#good morning the horrors never cease

[sansgout]

no expression of emotions in this house; we pine (and tease and make excuses to initiate any amount of physical contact) like schoolgirls with a crush men

[saltburnedme]

My requests are open! Message/comment to be added to the tag list!

Paring: Oliver Quick x Fem!Reader

Word count: 3520

Summary: You’d only been visiting family at Saltburn for a few weeks, but this time you couldn’t shift the feeling of something or someone watching you.

Warnings: SMUT (ONLY READ IF YOU ARE 18+) unprotected sex, oral sex (female receiving), choking, stalking? Kind of?, two way mirrors, vague horror ish themes, dubious consent, generally fucked up smut overall

Writers note: Hi friends! This is my first Oliver fic, I’m planning on writing more so let me know if you have any requests. I’ve only seen the film once so I apologise if my writing of him isn’t quite right yet.. just read his parts with his accent and I think it works! Please share, comment, like and all of those good things 💕💕

Part 2

21 days, almost a full month, that’s how long it had taken you to get to grips with the enormity of Saltburn. Most of that time had been spent mistakenly walking into a linen closet which supplied one of the many bedrooms believing it was the entrance to your room. You’d even drawn yourself a map by this point and somehow, you still managed to get lost, the house was almost as much of a maze as the actual maze in the garden was. You had checked off your room, all of the shared spaces and most of the other bedrooms, inhabited or otherwise, all marked down perfectly on your little map. There was only one wing of the house which you were not allowed into, Elsbeth called it the ‘bachelor pad’ something you know Felix would have at the very least groaned at. He’d been sharing this space with his guest, another student named Oliver. He was quiet, a bit of a mystery overall but from that you assessed that he was a man who liked his privacy, making you chalk up their reluctance to have you in that space no more than a matter of comfort. A comfort you wish that you could say you felt also.

You visited Saltburn many times as a child, the family themselves were distant relatives of yours which is why you always summered there when your parents were away on business. You’d never felt uncomfortable there before, but this time something was different even though you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. Maybe it was the heat getting to you, maybe it was the ever changing list of house guests that visited or the way that it seemed the eyes on the paintings of long dead aristocracy seemed to follow you around the room. Something had changed, if only you could put your finger on it.. or a toe.. maybe even an out stretched palm if you felt confident enough, anything to make this restlessness end. Every night that you laid in bed, you felt something, someone, watching you. You had checked, you’d opened every door, searched every shelf and wandered into every linen closet in the vicinity of your room and every time, nothing. Your well drawn map granting you no ease of mind, even with all of the labels you’d added to it over the last few weeks. The constant tossing and turning ceased only by one saving grace, you’d remembered to pack your vibrator.

Every night like clockwork your little buzzing friend would find the tingling mound between your legs, slipping in and out seamlessly like always, making you cum within a few minutes. That was until tonight, maybe you should have expected it. 21 days in a row of usage, the batteries were sure to go flat at some point, you just didn’t think it would be so soon. Placing it into the draw of the bedside table you go back to the constant pacing feeling in your mind as you attempted to sleep. The watching feeling was back, the hairs on your arms standing up, the feeling of the familiar prickling at the back of your neck as if something dangerous was approaching from the shadows. But sleep finally took you, once again.

The sound of knuckles tapping against the wood of the door early every morning tore you from your sleep, a much needed sleep. The curtains being torn open and the light hitting your face remind you of where you are almost immediately, at least this time with the maids in your room you knew who was watching you. ‘Breakfast is ready’ she says as she leaves the room as promptly as she arrived, off to wake another of the Saltburn family without a doubt. Crawling out of bed in your white night dress, you throw on a matching robe over the top, fumbling your slippers on, briefly checking your reflection in the full length mirror mounted to the wall across from your bed before wandering down the long halls to the breakfast table. Taking your usual seat you notice no one else has awoken yet, your tired eyes settling on the food in front of you, you almost fall asleep sitting up eating. The exhaustion of the last few days finally catching up with you. ‘You looked frustrated last night’ a low voice utters quietly a few seats across from you, the low muttering making you jump out of your skin with shock.

‘Excuse me?’ You question, a puzzled look on your face which could have been mistaken for anger, your words coming out harsher than you expected. You see the man across from you almost retreat into himself, he’d barely uttered a word to you in the last 21 days and now this? Your mind immediately flashing back to your frustration at your vibrator unceremoniously dying on you, surely that isn’t what he refers to tho.. right? ‘Oh Oliver, I’m sorry, I’m so tired that came out poorly. what do you mean?’ You question, making Oliver un tense slightly.

‘I saw you looking for something last night’ he begins. ‘Anything I can help with?’ He questions.

‘Oh, That. I was just trying to get a better lay of the land. Every time i visit I swear this place is rearranged, it’s like a new house every time.’ You reply.

‘Sure, that must have been it’ he replies, no follow up, nothing. Although it was more of a conversation than you’d managed with him this whole time, you expected maybe something else would have come from this. He could have offered to help you, anything. Although you hadn’t spoken that much you’d find it hard to argue that you hadn’t developed a little crush on him, his dark hair in contrast with his piercing blue eyes, surely that would make any girl swoon.

Just as you finally thought of something to say, the thought of offering him an invitation to explore the mansion with you to further expand your map, the rest of the family arrived, keen to discuss plans for the day. Your hopes of getting to know Oliver better shattered once again.

You continued your day like normal, a dip in the pool, a little bit of reading, another trip to a random room to expand the map and eventually dinner and straight to bed.

Once again you were kept up, tonight you indulged in wine a little bit more than usual, the knowledge of the lack of batteries to fuel your only release weighing heavy on your mind.

Crawling into bed you listen to the creaking of the wooden floorboards in the hallway, the sound of the old house almost swaying in the breeze as if that were possible. You try to ignore the familiar ache between your thighs as you long for sleep subtly grinding against the palm of your hand as you crave the release you know you can’t have. The feeling growing stronger and your movements becoming more unsubtle as you move the covers off of you, the fabric of your night dress pooling up around your hips as you grind, longing for that familiar feeling. ‘Ugh, fuck sake’ you groan, it’s of no use. You roll over frustratedly, your face buried in pillows as you let out a silent scream. That’s when you hear it, the floorboards creaking, the sound too loud to be from the hallway and it wasn’t just creaking this time, footsteps. But it couldn’t be, you’d locked the door to your room, the only other way in was through the window which you had ensured was locked.

‘Hello?’ You ask tentatively, sitting bolt upright in bed at this point. You weren’t sure if you prayed for an answer or not, at least if there were an answer you’d know for certain that you weren’t alone. But no answer came.

2:41am, you’d checked the clock at least 20 times by now every time you had almost drifted to sleep another creak on the floorboards would tare you from your dreams. It sounded almost as if they were getting closer, they’d began earlier by your mirror and by now they were approaching the head of the bed. Sometimes you even thought you could feel something touching you, lightly re arranging the way your hair fell on the pillow, or something lightly tugging at the blanket that covered your body. But this time you felt it for sure.

The weight on the bed shifted, while you lay in the middle, the bed dipped on the side, the unmistakeable feeling of someone sitting at the side of the bed. Another second and you felt it, a hand on your ankle wrapped tight. Terrified you sit, unable to move. You never imagined this is how you’d be in this position, you’d scream and fight when you’d imagined this scenario previously but you were wrong, so wrong. You lay there silently, only when you felt the grip on your ankle tighten did you even let on that you were awake as you were harshly dragged down the bed, now splayed out in the middle. Before you could scream a hand smacks over your mouth with a slap, silencing any sound that could have come out of you.

‘What were you thinking about?’ A voice in the dark asks, an accent of some sort laced in his words surely belonging to the owner of the strong hands currently pinning you against the bed. ‘Who were you thinking about?’ The voice continues, more demanding this time as the accent becomes clearer, Oliver? Surely not. The sweet, quiet man who sits across from you silenced by his own nervousness every breakfast, it can’t be him. You try to answer, your words muffled by the hand over your mouth, although you’re sure it would be less of an answer and more of a demanding to get out of your room.

‘Was it me? Tell me it was me.’ He demands, his hand dropping from your mouth to your throat, wrapped around tightly grasping at the column of your neck.

‘I-I Uhm’ your reply coming out as nonsense. He was right, you had been thinking of him. You’d seen his physique while sunbathing, sneaking a glance when you believed no one would notice. But now with his hand wrapped around your neck and his body pressing into yours your mind was blank.

‘Answer me’ he demands, hand tightening as his face grows ever closer to yours. At this distance you swear you can almost see the moonlight shining through the window reflecting off of his blue eyes, glimmering at you.

‘You.. it was you’ you stutter out quietly, your words shocking even you as they come out breathy and quiet.

‘What a good girl you’ve been for me’ he says, his grip loosening on your throat as he glides his index finger down your cheek.

‘Bu-but how did you.. where.. what’ you question, a full sentence becoming too much for your brain to handle, but the man on top of you seems to have gotten the gist of your line of questioning.

‘I’ve been watching you’ he replies. ‘You and your little map. Wandering around like you own the place’ his words laced with venom. ‘I’ll admit you did make it harder for me. You thought you were so smart checking everywhere, you never bothered to check within your own room’. He continues as your eyes fight with the dark, darting around every corner of the room. That’s when you spot it, the light reflecting off of the mirror slightly wrong, it was almost as if the glass was rippling, the reflection always seeming a little off, it was a two way mirror. From the spot where it was mounted on the wall, you realised that it was pushed slightly further than usual, the story all making sense in your mind suddenly. You hadn’t been imaging things, you had heard footsteps inside the room, someone was watching you, Oliver.

‘Our rooms share a serving corridor as these old houses do sometimes’ he says as if it was an obvious fact, something everyone would know. He could see a million questions whirling behind your eyes, snapping you out of your thoughts as his soft fingers against your cheek suddenly turn into a slap, grasping your face turning your lips into a pout. ‘Now, I know what you do to sleep and I took the liberty of removing the batteries from your useless little toy there’ he sneers at you, you can almost feel his smirk against your lips as he comes in closer. This was nothing like the man you had vaguely come to know over the last few weeks, he was mean, cruel even and you knew it wouldn’t be long until you admitted that you liked it, you loved this version of Oliver. ‘I thought, just maybe if you’d get impatient enough you’d come to me yourself. But the little miss never came’ he continues, finding himself amusing at his own pun. ‘So I came to you’ putting extra emphasis on his words to make a point as to almost poke at you. ‘Now, I can either leave and go back to my room or I can help you with your predicament. Would you like that?’ He questions, still holding your face in his hands ensuring you look straight into his eyes as your head nods, partially guided by Oliver’s hand moving your face for you. ‘Good girl’ he places a light peck onto your lips. ‘The former was never really an option anyway, did you really think I could leave all this now that I have you here?’ His question sounding more like a statement, he didn’t care about your answer, he decided you belonged to him the moment he stepped into the room. His hand slips from your face, grasping your throat once more before climbing further onto the bed, throwing the covers off of you and pushing your night dress up.

He sighs, the view of you almost making him cum on the spot. Oliver never imagined he’d actually do it, sure he’d thought of the thousand ways he could take you, he wanted to bend you over and fuck your brains out over the breakfast table every morning for the last month and now, in this single sigh he released a months worth of frustration. His desperate hands kneading at the supple flesh of your thighs, roaming up to where he was at his most desperate for you. The moment the pad of his thumb pressed against your clit a jolt of electricity raced through your body, moving you with a shocked flinch against the bed. His eyes bore into yours as if almost warning you to stay still, a warning you would absolutely heed. His eyes transfixed on yours as his thumb swirled around your sensitive nub, gathering slick from your entrance just to return to your clit, your climax building from the moment he touched you. You were almost there, your peak was in sight you could feel it building when he tore his hand from you. A smirk pressed against his lips as he bent down to kiss you, he was proud, he ruined your orgasm and he was proud of it. Just as you settled into the lack of his touch, his lips hovering against yours he plunged his fingers into you, without warning a loud gasp leaving your lips. You knew you’d fucked up the moment the sound left your mouth, his fingers being pulled from you once more.

‘Good girls stay quiet, do you understand me? We wouldn’t want the rest of them finding out how much of a whore you are now would we?’ He sneers, your heart rate increasing as you nod your head again. ‘Such a good girl for me. I’ll make sure to reward you, just stay quiet for me’ he continues, his words softer this time as his fingers return to your warm, wet entrance.

It was harder to stay quiet than you expected. His pace was relentless and now as he kissed down your body, your night dress torn from you and the remaining scrap of fabric now discarded to the floor, the want to moan for him was overwhelming. This was only made worse when his lips wrapped around your sensitive mound. His tongue and fingers moving at the same time, sucking on your most sensitive parts like a man starved. He was desperate for you and now, you were for him. You couldn’t resist it and he could tell, your climax was imminent as you rocked your hips against his mouth. From watching you he knew that you covered your mouth with your hand or bit down onto your fist when you came in an attempt to muffle the sounds. To compensate for this, at the moment your shaking orgasm rippled through your body he shoved his fingers into your mouth, the taste of your own juices heavy on your tongue as he suckled and licked you through your peak, his eyes still fixed on yours.

You thought that was it, he said he wanted to help you and he had, you’d half expected him to leave when he tore his own shirt over his head, pushing his boxers down his thighs as he pushes your legs further open with the weight of his own body. With one hand next to your head and his other white knuckle grasping his cock he glided his length through the slick of your pussy. His lustful gaze had left yours now, favouring watching his tip spread you wide for him. Just as your eyes left his face to watch the sight between your legs you were interrupted. ‘Look at me’ he demands ‘I want to see the look on your face when I split you open’ his words being of continuous shock to you, where had your quiet kind man gone?

Although you’d hate to say he was correct, he was. Even with your drenched hole and your legs spread wide for him the burn as he entered you was real. He was unbelievably thick and long, his length impaling you again and again as he begins thrusting into you relentlessly. He was as desperate for release as you were, maybe you should have known, your sweet man in his full right mind would surely never break into your room and do this to you if he wasn’t desperate you reassured yourself. This can’t be the real him after all, it had to be an act.

These thoughts stayed with you for merely seconds as your eyes rejoined his as they flutter open, your mouth hanging open in a silent moan just like his. As if you could both feel the sound about to release your lips came crashing together, muffling the sound of your joint moans as his tongue slips into your month. It was a dirty, sinful act and you loved every second of it. You’d never felt this desperate for anyone in your life. You wanted him to cum inside you, breed you and make you his.

‘Once I cum inside you, you’re mine. Do you understand? I fucking own you’ he says, making you question if he has a future in a career in mind reading. He doesn’t wait for an answer taking the feeling of your walls tightening around his length as the only reply he would ever need again.

His pace quickens his body pressed against yours as his hand clasps over your mouth silencing you, your head held still as he glares into your eyes. You can feel it, his climax nearing, his thrusts becoming sloppier and more erratic as he breaks his own rule, groaning loudly into your kiss as he cums within you, his liquid filling you to the brim. The sound reverberates against the walls, someone must have heard that you think as he continues to fill you up. Just as you think he’d stopped, almost possessively he begins to move again. The feeling overwhelming both of your senses as he fucks his cum further into you before pulling out and repeating the same process with his fingers, watching a little bit trickle out before pushing it back inside you once more.

‘You’ll keep this inside you, you understand? You don’t get to clean yourself up’ he demands. ‘You’ll be a good girl for me tomorrow, at 10pm sharp you’ll get into the bath across the hall and wait for me. Got it?’ His demands continue as he places one last harsh kiss onto your lips, your eyes flickering closed for only a second, re opening when your kiss has parted. Just like that he was gone. His clothes, every part of him had left you almost without a trace. Your night dress torn on the floor you ponder how you’ll explain that to the maids in the morning as they’ll have to fix it. You cover yourself with the blanket again, your head pressed against the pillow as you finally go to sleep, the best you’ve slept in 21 days.

Part 2

Message to be added to the tag list! - current tag list: @idontevenknow1359

[afewfantasies]

I don't know why but when I first started reading feyd fanfics, in my mind feyd would dye/paint his teeth every day because he thought it looks intimidating and now there will forever be the image of feyd sitting at a vanity every morning meticulously coloring his teeth black

"Black Smile"

OMG, I love this so much. We know Feyd loves to put on a show, so this fits. Anything to add to the persona, the intrigue and the pageantry of it all. Here's a little Feyd X Reader imagine with this premise. Feyd is also the current Baron.

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 575

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Feyd X Reader (Established relationship w/ children)

ᴘʟᴏᴛ: Feyd's painting his teeth to prepare for a public appearance. His small children see it for the first time.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: None, this ones fluffy 🖤

"Black Smile"

Turning Feyd stops painting his smile at the sound of little feet, casting a look over his shoulder he stops seeing his children. His daughter scrunches her face up stopping dead in her tracks. He prepares for the worst but thankfully there are no tears.

“Daddy what’s that?” She asks amusing him. She only knew daddy, not Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen. “Daddy I don’t like it” she adds coming closer. Seeking him for comfort in spite of his look being the reason for her uncertainty.

“Me neither” His son says both sets of little eyes pairing at him. Feyd turns again as you enter the bedroom. It brings back memories of your first meeting, when it was the only way you knew him. Black teeth to add to the terror.

“Your mommy likes it” Feyd says and both children turn to you in shock..

“They were coming to say goodbye and wish you a safe voyage” you explain running your hands over your babies heads. Feyd nods.

“Mommy you really like it?” Your daughter asks skeptically and you nod.

“C’mere” he growls playfully sending both kids screaming before he can give chase. You smile as they run out the chambers.

“Missed a spot” you tell him pointing to a white streak along one of his teeth. He finishes up the job leaving all of his teeth smooth and black before curing them with so it looks natural and lasts.

“How do I look?” Feyd rasps adapting the voice and the terrifying persona of his reputation.

“Like a Harkonnen” you respond.

“Daddy?” Your son calls running back into your room. Feyd raises a brow.

“Can I have it too, I want to scare my sister” your son bounces. Instead of saying no Feyd picks your boy up sitting him on his lap. You laugh knowing your little girl will be next in line.

“I’m not sure I like this” you confess looking at your son’s black teeth and gums as Feyd cures the paint. Your kid hisses at you and you laugh thinking it must be hereditary. He runs back out the room and you listen out for screams. Sure enough a blood curling scream proceeds hysterical laughter. Running hard your daughter re-enters bouncing.

“Daddy, Daddy, me tooo!” She bounces and Feyd picks her up indulging her request. He’s so good with the kids it’s unreal, it warms your heart more than he could ever know.

“Mummy, how’s it look?” Your daughter says giving you a black grin.

“Interesting” you smile and she runs out to terrorize her brother and the staff no doubt. You turn to Feyd in amusement and he pats his knee.

“Your turn” he says.

“No thank you,” you respond having a seat on his knee. Looking at him in the mirror you try to picture him for the first time, you try to remember how he made your heart palpitate, how weary you were of his black smile, how terrified you were of him. “Smile?” You ask and he obliges leaving you to shudder. “Terrifying papa” you wink at him in the mirror earring a smile. 

“Good” he nods and you chuckle holding back your smile. It never ceased to amaze you the lengths Feyd would go to to serve maximum horror. There was a sense of pageantry and exaggeration that you found ironic and amusing. Of course he’s never needed the black smile to be intimidating but it adds a little je-ne-sais-quoi. 

-----

Authors note: thanks for the idea anon, genuinely never considered this possibility - its been fun to ponder 🩶

[after-witch]

Run Rabbit [Sukuna x Reader]

Title: Run Rabbit [Sukuna x Reader]

Synopsis: You were the first one in your village chosen to be a sacrifice to Ryomen Sukuna. But you won't accept your fate so willingly.

Word count: 2000ish

notes: obsessiveness, reader is set to be a sacrifice, non-graphic injuries, non-graphic sexual assault threat, 

There are two types of desperation beating inside your breast

The desperation to live, to not be torn to pieces by some beast, to keep going another day and walk down the path of life, wherever it may take you.

And perhaps the worst of the two, the desperation of knowledge: the fact that you can’t deny that you understand why they’re doing this to you, why you’ve been tied to the tree at the entrance of your village. 

Why they have chosen you as a sacrifice to Ryomen Sukuna.

He had slaughtered so many people already, in your village and many more besides. Men, women, children. It made no difference to him--no, you think, perhaps it did. From what tales you’ve heard, he seemed to enjoy killing women and children most of all. 

Your own parents had been killed by him while they were traveling to a nearby village to visit your mother’s pregnant friend. Perhaps that’s why the village chose you as the easiest sacrifice--you had no family left to stand up for you.

You were just some orphaned daughter. You couldn’t carry on the family name. You would be a burden, if you were married off, and who wanted to take the time to create a match for you amidst the current heavy fear enveloping the village? 

So they took you in the early hours of the morning, when the air was misty and cool, and dragged you from your bed to this very tree that leads to the main path to your village. The tree itself was considered sacred. Or it had been, once. Scattered around you are broken charms, no doubt laughingly scattered by Sukuna himself; failed protections against his horrors. 

But you? You were going to be the village’s salvation. Surely he would accept their offering and kill you (perhaps more, beforehand) and spare the village. At least for a while. At least until they had to drag some other pretty thing to the tree, and hope he would take them and spare their village for another day. 

That’s what they hoped for, anyway. 

But you? You were not going to be a good sacrifice. That is why you have spent the better part of the day sawing at the rope binding your wrists to the tree, using one of the broken charms as a sharp edge. 

And as the sun begins to slip beneath the horizon, and the warmth in the air seeps away and leaves a clammy cold in its wake, you feel the rope finally fray to a fragile husk--

Just as every insect in the night suddenly ceases their droning calls, and the night birds in the weaving lakes no longer cry out. 

Just as the sound of footsteps approaching the tree replaces them.

You have never seen the demon, curse, monster Sukuna in person before. You had only heard the stories, at first huddled together with your family, and then alone. 

He is, above all things, overwhelming. Eyes upon eyes, arms upon arms.Two of each, and faces like halves.  He is… 

Inhuman. Unnatural. 

Without realizing it, you are frozen--a doe in the flickering lamplight of a weary traveler. No, for this is no weary traveler who smiles indulgently at the sight of a frightened deer. You are more like a doe trapped in the unmistakable sight of a hunter’s bow.

“Well,” the monster says, his voice like a rough purr that sends goosebumps creeping up arms. “This is a first… surprisingly.” His eyes look you over, and the sight of the multiple pairs moving sends your empty stomach lurching. “Usually villages try to sacrifice their weakest first. The children… the elderly.” 

The way his gaze rakes over your form sends your limbs trembling, and you begin to rub your wrists together, willing the rope to give way to nothing in time for you to have some sort of chance. 

If he notices, he says nothing. Instead, he steps closer and looks down at you. “But oh, you’re a precious thing, I would think. A lovely woman.” He calls you precious but nothing in his tone or demeanor suggests he thinks you so. 

“Shall I kill you outright? Or have my way with you first?” There’s a laughter in his words, and you’re not sure if he means them, but they create a hard knot in your belly all the same. 

It doesn’t matter. Because the rope has split.

“Neither,” you spit out, and you don’t wait for his reaction--you simply run.

The primal part of your brain expects to hear his footsteps behind you. Instead, you hear laughter, barking, harsh--but delighted. 

“I’ll give you a head start, girl!” He calls out. You don’t dare look behind you to see if he’ll hold true to his words. 

--

The forest is familiar and unfamiliar all at once, for you never went into it during the night, and certainly never alone--and definitely not with a demon at your heels.

Dark greenery whizzes by, punctuated with scratching branches and your own terrified, panting breaths. Some of the branches catch the fold of your robe and you stumble, pulling until the fabric tears or the branch lets you go. 

A branch catches your clothing again, but when the fabric tears this time,  you don’t regain your footing. You fall to the ground and your body aches, unused to running and injuries--

And then you hear those footsteps again. Loud. Confident. As if whatever creature makes them knows he is entitled to be exactly where he is, doing exactly what he does. You don’t doubt a demon who has slaughtered countless, seemingly for sport, might feel that way.

Hot tears fall down your face, dripping on the ground, almost in time with the footsteps.

“Are you done already? How boring.”  His voice above you (for you don’t dare look up at his face) has lost the delight it held earlier, replaced with something you keenly sense is far more dangerous: a loss of interest.

He’ll kill you. If you don't run now, he’ll kill you.

Some noise, grunting and animal-like, escapes your lips. And then you’ve propelled yourself upward, riding on adrenaline, running into the darkness again.

Behind you, Sukuna laughs.

“Keep going! Don’t give up!”

The mockery in his voice lands and slides off you like raindrops. You don’t have the resources to care about anything but getting away from him.

So you run and run and run.

--

Your fingers taste of sweat and dirt, but you keep them pressed to your lips, muffling your ragged breathing as best you can. 

Sukuna is somewhere behind you. His every movement rustles leaves, snaps twigs. He doesn’t need to hide his presence--why would he? He could kill anyone or anything he came across.

If he finds you tucked inside the hollow of this tree, he’ll kill you. Maybe worse than that, because you can; or because he feels an inclination for it.

“Brat.”

Your muscles turn to ice. He found you. He found you and this is it and now--

But pain does not come, death does not come. Instead,  you realize, slowly, that he wasn’t addressing you. He’s talking to himself.

“She’s made it this far, huh? If she crosses that stream…” He sighs, and your mind provides the image of his face, pinched with irritation. “I can’t follow. It’s been blessed. Damn sorcerers.” 

Hope, fragile but alive, flutters in  your breast. The charms on the tree didn’t work… but evidently something did work against this creature. And you were close--so close you could hear the water bubbling--to reaching it.

And like a miracle, his footsteps recede, and the soft sound of the night returns. The insects, hesitantly chirping; the soft crunch of a fox scurrying out of a burrow.

After a time, long enough to make sure he has truly gone, you slowly, carefully crawl away from the hollow of the tree. 

The stream. If you can make it across the stream, you’ll be safe.

With your muscles aching and your feet bleeding from the terrain of the forest, you run towards the sound of quietly bubbling water that will be your only chance of salvation.

--

You have never appreciated the moonlight as much as you have on this night. The moon is not quite full, but it’s large and bright enough to illuminate the man made rock path lodged across the stream, giving easier (but no less slippery) access to those who want to cross it.

Just get across, you think. Just get across and be safe. Be free. Start over. Find somewhere you can live and settle down and--

You take a deep breath and force yourself not to race too far ahead. You don’t want to get distracted, not now. 

Not when every footsteps matters. You go as slow as the panic in your breast allows, keeping your arms straight out like you used to as a child, begging your parents to help guide you across. 

On the last stone, you hear him approach. Hear the rumble of his chest as he hums. Feel the oppressiveness of his presence.

But you leap to the wet, mossy ground on the bank of the stream and you turn and your heart beats fast with fear and relief in turn. You made it. You’re safe. 

Your face breaks into a sobbing smile just as Ryomen Sukuna takes an easy, sauntering step onto the stepping stone. 

His laughter hurts your ears.

“Did you really think I couldn’t cross water?” His four eyes blink down at you, and it’s like your soul wants to drop to the ground and run away. “Country bumpkin…”

The smile cracks, but the sob on  your lips pushes its way out as you whirl around and run.

But your body has other ideas. It’s too tired. You were not used to such physical strain, and the stress from being tied to the tree and chased and chased--and chased--like some animal has finally overruled the adrenaline pumping through your body.

Your legs collapse, and you fall to the ground. You’re on your knees, aching and bleeding though they are, and you gulp down terrified, sobbing breaths.

This is it. This is when he kills you. You can only hope it will be fast. 

“Finally run out of steam, girl?” Sukuna hums, and you feel his foot press down on the small of your back. It doesn’t take any effort for your body to crumple beneath it, but he keeps his foot on the dirty, frayed fabric of your robe.

There’s an uncomfortable flush of humiliation, but you chide yourself for even feeling it. Does it matte, what he does, if he’s just going to kill you now?

“You lasted longer than I thought you would. Though you were stupid to think I was serious about the river.” His voice is low and lazy. You almost wish he sounded angry, annoyed that he’d had to chase you through the woods.

But then  you realize that this chase which has worn your body to its limit was like a relaxing stroll for him. 

You were running for your life--and it was nothing to him.

“Just…” Your voice is hoarse, and you would drag yourself to the stream and gulp it down like a wild animal, if you could. What is water, though, when you’re going to die at any moment? “Just kill me already,”  you finish.

There is a rustling sound, and you don’t know what it means until you’re flipped harshly on your back. You cry out as you’re flipped, body aching, and hurting even more when you feel rocks digging into your tired muscles.

It was better to be staring at the ground, you think. Better to look at that than up at the face of the monster who will end your life. 

He tilts his head at you--the two faces, you think, are not just grotesque but otherworldly and very, very wrong. They shouldn’t exist, and he shouldn’t exist, and you hope that somewhere, somehow, some day, there will be a person who knows how to destroy the thing above you. 

He hums again. And after a while, he grins, as if he’s pleased with himself. “No, I don’t think I will, girl.”

His words take a while to sink in. And the question forms on your lips before you have time to wonder if you really want the answer. 

“Why--why not?” 

Sukuna leans down and grips you by the ruined fabric of your robe. He hauls you to your aching feet, and keeps his grip on you even as your legs try to buckle  underneath you from fear just as much as the physical strain of the night. 

One of his four hands grabs your chin, and none-too-gently forces you to look at him. His pairs of eyes study you, and your stomach twists and turns as you’re made to stare into his face. 

“You were given to me,” he says, voice back to that low, growling purr from when he first saw you tonight. “And I’m going to appreciate this little present.” 

[bitethedustfools]

TWST Story Idea (6)

Inspired by a post from a long time ago, but I don't remember their name.

Twisted Wonderland with Yuu, who is not scared of meeting beastmen, ghosts, or fairies, not because they're brave but because they've already seen horrors that Twisted Wonderland never saw before.

Yuu was at first amazed and wary of the existence of magic and those who are not human. They were rather dismayed at living in a ramshackle dorm and were reluctant to accept Grim, though Yuu eventually accepted that it was better than being alone.

However, days of staying with Yuu made Grim learn something about Yuu, and that Yuu had rules. It's not just normal rules like "don't make noise after 10" or something, nor were they stupid rules like Heartslabyul.

No, it's so much different than that.

'Don't step outside after dark', 'don't go to the woods alone and make noise', 'don't answer anything until you feel certain it's a person', 'don't jinx', and so on.

Well, it is stupid like Heartslabyul, but the way Yuu looked at Grim just makes it sound ominous, and it doesn't help that Yuu followed these rules to a T.

One day, not long after Grim settled in that house, he almost broke a rule.

It started late at night where he heard knockings on the door. Grim woke up, blearily and upset for ruining his good sleep. He thought that a certain three ghosts was playing tricks on him.

They were always trying to prank him, and this was the last straw. He shouted at the ghost to stop, and the knockings ceased.

It was quiet indeed, just like Grim wanted, but Grim couldn't get rid of the horrible feeling creeping up on him.

The knocks continued, this time followed by a voice.

"Can I come in?"

Grim jolted awake, fur bristling. It sounded like Yuu, but it couldn't be Yuu. It sounded so weird and scratchy, like it's his first time talking, and Yuu is right here in this room with him, so who is behind that door?

"Grim, can you let me in?"

It knows his name.

The door knob budged repeatedly, growing aggressive as time goes by. Yuu had locked every door and window that leads inside dutifully, and this room is no exception, but Grim feared that it's going to break from how loud it's turning.

Grim tried to wake Yuu up, but Yuu didn't show any slightest hint of stirring awake, too deep asleep. Grim hit Yuu again and again to no avail.

Grim is alone, and the monster won't leave him alone.

The door creaked, and something peeked through the cracks. Grim cried to leave him alone, and the monster merely responded by getting closer, inch by inch, red eyes locked on Grim's shivering body.

And then, Grim woke up. Sweats covered his paws, and Yuu hovered above him with concern. Grim sniffled, the bed sheet, and some part of his fur wet with tears. He was glad to know it's only a nightmare until Yuu said,

"Which rule did you break?"

It was on that same day that Grim followed the rules with devotion, fearing the same thing to happen. These rules don't limit to Grim and Yuu only but to the guests as well.

Ace was first; he knocked on the door of the ramshackle dorm somewhere late at night, wanting to sleep here instead.

He knocked and knocked, but no one answered. He decided to loudly yell for them instead. This proved to be the right choice since he could hear woods creaking and shuffling from the inside.

The door opened in a matter of seconds, and Ace would greet casually like he just didn't come here late at night with a collar but stopped at the panicked look on Yuu and Grim's faces.

"Stop screaming!" Yuu hissed.

He didn't have to say anything since Yuu grabbed him by the tie and dragged him in. He found himself in their bedroom, awkwardly standing as Yuu explained the rules they have on the house.

Ace huffed wearily, saying how he got tired of the rules courtesy of Riddle, but Grim's reaction was very out of character, to say the least.

Ace would ask why, and they said to wait till morning. In the end, they all went on the same bed. Ace doesn't even bring up about sleeping in their bed; it was Yuu who wanted him to, so who was he to deny opportunity?

Ace tried to sleep, but the collar is just so cold and it's digging on his neck. He tossed and turned, and his eyes laid on a curtained window.

Weird, he thought. Almost everyone he met slept with opened windows and parted curtains to let moonlight and the coldness of the night in. The curtain in this room was closed tightly, and sleeping on the bed with another two is already hot enough since the fan is slow.

Ace made up his mind to open both the curtain and the window. However, tonight moonlight is bright enough that there's a distinct shadow behind the curtains in the shape of a person.

'But this is on the second floor,' Ace will gradually realize. He will reason that it's someone using the broom to fly, but the shadow is completely still.

At this point, Ace remembered some of the rules that barely got into his brain.

'Do not look outside at night.'

'Do not acknowledge or respond to it.'

'Do not make noise.'

'Pretend you didn't see it.'

Ace quietly got into the bed, closed his eyes, and went under the sheet as he tried to make sense of what he saw. He had to wait until tomorrow; there's only a few hours before morning, but his will is tested with the scratches on the windows.

Ace couldn't tell when he got to sleep, but he woke up with a gasp as sunlight shone in his face, and Yuu staring at him.

"You'll get used to it."

Deuce was the next victim. Despite what happened that night, Ace is still willing to sleep in the ramshackle dorm or maybe he doesn't have a choice because something is following him and yuu knows how to deal with it. Deuce, however, didn't know any better until Yuu explained the rules.

Deuce, being dumb, will then say, "Huh? You mean ghosts? We see them all the time, don't we?"

A look of horror crossed their expression, and then there's laughter in the hallways that most definitely don't belong to them.

Deuce's instinct was to fight in the adrenaline moment. Just as he stood up, he immediately fell down and got dragged out of the living room down the hallways right before their eyes.

The lights flickered, showing them a horrifying shadowy figure holding Deuce by the ankle. Deuce screamed as he was dragged into one of the rooms, and the door slammed shut.

Deuce yelled as he banged on the door repeatedly. The others tried to open it to no avail until Deuce kicked it off its hinges, face pale and full of sweats while his eyes kept darting back to the empty room.

Deuce wished to go back, but Yuu didn't allow him to do so.

"If you leave, it will follow you. Stay here; I'll protect you."

They weren't the last. Those who became friends of Yuu were now well aware of these rules but not before experiencing the horrors.

Trey is concerned about the rules, but he always obeys them anyway, so there shouldn't be any problem until he borrows the kitchen and witnesses dishes pushed off the table and breaks them. He also hears an indescribable noise that's a mix between moaning and growling from one of the rooms in the ramshackle dorm when Trey is passing by, as though something is trying to attract his attention.

There was also a rule that said to avoid using a camera in the dorm. Cater didn't like that much, seeing that a haunted ramshackle dorm sounded like a good way to attract more likes on Magicam. Cater didn't give any thought when he tried to take a picture of himself when suddenly, the square thingy used to identify a face is multiplied and scattered all over the screen.

Riddle once came unannounced, and the entrance door opened, so Riddle invited himself, though he found it suspicious that no one is inside. He thought it was Ace and Deuce who tried to prank him and shouted to stop it at once. There was silence until Ace's voice said, "You got us, Riddle."

Riddle instinctively tried to reply, "It's Housewarden Riddle for you," before shutting his mouth when he realized that the voice sounded weird, and Ace still hadn't popped out yet.

"I'm right here," Deuce said this time, slightly echoey and out of tune.

He tried to come closer, trying to discern where the voice was coming from, only to be pulled back.

"I was looking for you." Yuu's voice was calm, but there's a sense of urgency on his face, which Riddle finds out later when he meets with Ace and Deuce.

Similar things happened to the rest, with Vil seeing his reflection move, Epel hearing something following right behind him, and Rook feeling watched but unable to find who.

Kalim saw his doppelganger and attempted to follow him into the woods alone, or that time he was talking to someone, but there isn't someone there at all. Jamil had bruises in the shape of hands and whispers in his ears as he lay in bed.

Idia saw his dead brother, and he almost jumped to his death. Ortho, who is in full battery, would just drain in a matter of seconds. Any attempt to scan would be glitched and met with errors.

As for a certain merfolk and beastman, they are suddenly sensitive to the ramshackle dorm and attempt to avoid it. Jack, however, despite his reluctance to sleep in the ramshackle dorm, proved to be a great asset. Since he's a wolf beastman, closer to dogs, naturally, ghost attacks lowered down to almost nothing. This means beastmen are rarely bothered, mostly just being watched.

For certain Diasomnia members, these types of ghosts are rare and dangerous and cannot be destroyed. They didn't even knoe they exist amyway and magic cannot destroy spirits, no matter how strong they are. Though, just like Jack, ghost attacks will drop down with Lilia and Malleus around, though not to zero. They both will get harassed as well as the other two.

-

Yuu has a third eye, so they see things. Yuu's spiritual power is so great it affected the ramshackle dorm, waking up/attracting ghosts. Those who get closer to Yuu will inevitably have Yuu's power lingered on them so they can see as well.

So basically, they got 'cursed' unintentionally by getting close to Yuu. Those who can't see ghosts won't get bothered with serious stuff; they only get to deal with ransacked rooms or broken dishes.

[xaphrin]

Anyway I just spent all morning plotting out my next long fic, and uh... wow that outline is something. Hope it doesn't suck? Have a taste?

(Actually trying to see how people feel about this)

-

When Trigon finally conquered Earth it felt like the world had become a strange, tilted reflection of itself. Warped like the mirror in a funhouse, but somehow still the same. On the surface things continued as normal, people went to their jobs, the public transit system continued, and the stock market miraculously stayed stable. The conquering felt less like an ending, and more like a blip in the timeline. Most people assumed that after a few months it would all clear itself up. 

But, underneath that facade of normalcy, there was a wound festering. 

Dissenters quietly disappeared overnight. World leaders vanished on their way to summits. Pacifists simply ceased to exist. Slowly, like a small leak in a boat, little bits of civilization disappeared, letting more and more horrors fill the space until the boat started to sink and there was nothing left but accept the inevitable truth:

There was no saving what Trigon had destroyed.  

And here stood Raven, at the edge of it all. She wasn’t supposed to exist. After her body had been used as a portal for Trigon, she had been left to die and decompose into the earth. Even her soul wouldn’t have found rest anywhere, since it was welcome nowhere. 

“You good?” 

Raven turned and looked at Dick as he stood next to her. “Not sure yet.” She gave a one shouldered shrug and stared out into the skyline. 

The city still looked inhabited, but there was a soft quiet that rumbled in and around the buildings. Look closer and you could see shattered windows and the rust-colored stains of long-dried blood. Everyone ignored it. If someone had died, they had it coming. Keep your head down. Don’t stir up trouble. Those were rules, and they were meant to be followed. 

Dick sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. “I got a message from my brother.” 

Raven lifted an eyebrow. “A Robin?”

He nodded. “The last one, actually. He was there the day Batman was…” Dick trailed off, unsure of what to call the death of the last man he considered a father. 

“Taken,” Raven supplied. The word didn’t feel like an end. It felt like a book with the last pages ripped out, so you never really knew the ending. “I thought he disappeared. Your brother, I mean.”

“He went back to the League of Assassins.” 

Raven lifted an eyebrow, surprised. They were the one group of people who had managed to resist all of Trigon’s control, walking a very fine line of neutrality. She huffed out a soft breath. “And what does he want?”

“To join the cause.”

[twilightspinkyfinger]

Secrets

This work is a part of my Hyrule Historian AU, for more information, check out my masterlist.

A/N: This post in particular was inspired by @orcusnoir and their weird chain headcanons. I wanted to take my own spin on the topic and include some weird headcanons for the historian! reader.

Secrets ran just as swiftly as blood through the veins of the chain. Little did they know that the historian joining their group also had their fair share of secrets that they kept hidden under lock and key as well.

The Hero of the Wild is starting to remember his past life more than he likes to let on. He doesn't want to be held to the same standard as the version of him from the past, he doesn't think he could ever go back to being like that, not after he got a taste of the freedom that adventure brings with it.

The Hero of Time can tell the moon's phase even during the brightest part of the day when the sun is at its peak. This effect remains the same even if the chain has recently changed eras. He is extremely anxious the first time they end up in Wild's Hyrule, he can sense the blood moon even if it is weeks away. He can sense the great dread and power that comes along with it, and it suffocates him.

The Hero of Legend can sense when magic courses its way through an object even from a considerable distance. He can feel the spirits that have attached themselves to many of the masks that the others carry with them. Their voices whisper to him in his dreams.

The Hero of Wind can always tell which direction the nearest body of water is. This skill comes in handy when finding a good spot to set up camp.

The Hero of Twilight sees figures in mirrors, and he knows no one else can see them. They drive him nuts and plague his nightmares. He hopes that one day one of the figures will be her, but he doesn't think he'll remain sane enough to see the day that happens.

The Hero of the Sky can understand the songs the birds sing, and the horror stories that pass through their beaks. This ability is why Sky likes to sleep in, past when early morning chirping from the local birds has ceased.

The Hero of Warriors can tell the second something dies. He has faced so much loss on the battlefield, that he knows the second a heart stops beating, this also applies to the hearts of enemies.

The Hero of Hyrule always knows what direction the nearest town or settlement is in, it doesn't matter if the chain is in his Hyrule or not. His feet will always lead him back to the people he has sworn to protect.

The Hero of the Four Sword can tell when people mask their personalities from others. The colors are quick to point out how a person is holding their true selves back. Being near the chain can be overwhelming because of this phenomenon. Being a hero of courage often lends itself to self-concealment for the greater good, or at least that's what they all try to claim. In reality, masking one's personality also works wonders at masking one's sins.

The Historian knows things they should have no logical way of knowing, things that the history books never recorded, things that happened thousands of years before their time. They know things people have never even spoken out loud, but somehow they still know. They understand the heroes they travel with because of this ability, and frequently have to stop themselves from spilling secrets that do not belong to them.

The Historian can hear the whispers of the shadows, which makes sneaking up on them almost impossible. The shadows are quick to warn them of the impending danger and who is coming, even if that danger is really just a squirrel or even one of the members of the chain. Because of this ability, sleep does not come easy. The historian often stays up late, feeling the eyes of the forest against their skin.

[mayflowers515]

You know what? I like you.

Have some random incorrect quotes of the Critters!

(Not specific to the AU. Canon? Idk, these are just for fun-)

________________

Bubba: I don’t know how you have your foot in your mouth, your head up your ass, and your nose in my business. But here we are, you fucking wizard.

________________

Bobby: Crafty, when’s your birthday? Crafty: Why? So you can look up my natal chart? So you can figure out my weaknesses? So you can destroy me? Bobby: …So I know when to wish you a happy birthday.

________________

CatNap: If karma doesn't hit you, I fucking will.

________________

Picky: What do we say when making bread? Hoppy, glumly: That's the dough rising. Picky: And what do we NOT say? Hoppy, sadly: That's the yeast fucking.

________________

Bobby, cowering in fear: What do you want from me?! Picky, standing in front of Bobby: *bites into the whole KitKat bar like a heathen* Bobby, crying: Please...stop...

________________

Kickin: Ooh, I like your accent, where you from? Someone: I am Liberian. Kickin: Oh, my bad. Kickin, whispering: I like your accent, where you from?

________________

Hoppy: Like, no offense to myself and all, but what the fuck am I actually doing?

________________

Kickin: This should be illegal! Bubba: It is.

________________

DogDay: I'm going to take a shower, I'll be right back. CatNap: Why are you telling me this, I don't care. CatNap, right after DogDay leaves the room: I miss him already.

________________

(Alt version)

Literally anyone: I'm going to take a shower, I'll be right back. Bobby: Why are you telling me this, I don't care. Bobby, right after literally anyone leaves the room: I miss you already.

________________

Bubba: Crafty told me that brown is just navy orange, and I have never been more disappointed with something I agree with.

________________

DogDay: What the fuck is wrong with you?? CatNap: What? No good morning? DogDay: Good morning, what the fuck is wrong with you??

________________

DogDay: You saved me! Why? CatNap: People would think I murdered you if I didn't.

________________

CatNap: *out cold on the ground* (he's just asleep, dw) Crafty: Oh my god, do you think he's okay?! Kickin, holding a bucket of ice water: Who cares?! *dumps all of the water on CatNap's face*

________________

Kickin: This is horrible! This is the most humiliating thing to ever happen to me! Hoppy: Oh-? Even more humiliating than- Kickin: We are not doing this!

________________

Bubba: I don’t even have time to tell you how wrong you are. Literally anyone: Okay? Bubba: … Bubba: … Bubba: Actually it’s gonna bug me if I don’t, so—

________________

Kickin: You... you said I could trust you!! Kickin: You said you were a GAMER!!! Picky: Kickin... I only play mobile games. (probably those farming and restaurant simulators) Kickin: NOOOOOOOO!!!!!!

________________

DogDay, singing: I don’t want a lot for Christmas, there is just one thing I need— Bobby: A family. Crafty: A better love life. Bubba: Mental stability. Picky: *clueless* Bagels?

________________

Hoppy: FUCK THE CHAIR. PARDON ME FOR MAKING MYSELF COMFORTABLE DURING A SINCERE HEART TO HEART DISCUSSION WITH A DEAR FRIEND IN NEED! Hoppy: BUT THE TIME HAS COME FOR ME TO CEASE STRADDLING THIS DEEPLY OFFENSIVE PIECE OF FURNITURE! AWAY WITH YE, FOUR LEGGED TEMPTRESS! DISTRACT US NO MORE WITH THE MOST BASIC AND UTILITARIAN FORM OF COMFORT YOU SUPPLY! Picky: Hoppy just threw a tantrum about a chair. Picky: I just won Hoppy Tantrum Bingo.

________________

The other Critters, in a room with Hoppy, Kickin, and Picky: It’s calm in here. The other Critters: It scares me…

________________

Bobby: What's worse than a heartbreak? Hoppy: Waking up in the morning and your phone wasn't charging. Crafty: Waking up in the morning. CatNap: Waking up.

________________

CatNap: "You look tired" well, the torment is relentless and the horrors never cease.

________________

(Alt version)

Post Hour of Joy DogDay: "You look tired" well, the torment is relentless and the horrors never cease.

The sillies :>

🩷❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜

[activatebutterflyshield]

Songs that make me really really really want to learn animation so I can make epic sequences with them as the soundtrack

- Notos by the Oh Hellos, itd make a great phoenix-rising, defeated-character-realizing-their-power-and-absolutely-destroying-someone-who-did-them-real-trauma thing. Also the metaphors and imagery. “Every inhale I take, swallow the ocean whole and I am one / With the hurricane, tall as the tide that laps with a rabid tongue”??? “With every exhale I break you down with a fury, I lay the hills undone / Like a dog gone untamed, bellowing out a river from my lungs”??????

- Boreas by the Oh Hellos, the perfect sort of ‘Im completely defeated but by god I’m still going to do something to help’

- Okay I should just include all of the Four Winds EPs in here. Get over here, Eurus and Zephyrus. Passerine and Rio Grande specifically.

- The Horror and the Wild by the Amazing Devil, see this one fandom post I made that was basically a desperate attempt to visualize an animatic I could never make

- Chords by the Amazing Devil, entirely different vibes but bloody hell it lights a fire in my heart every time I hear it. Just. “We were the winter nights / So you could be the morning snow / Your life begins by leaving / And our love is shown / In the letting go”????????

- Rockslide by the Crane Wives. Im writing a whole thing about that album, Coyote Stories’, relationship with climate change and the generally horrible state of the world and this song is the reason. “Oh I pray today my soul to keep / But we best get a move on or the devil we will meet”?? I mean. Mates. It hits hard.

- Sleeping Giants by the Crane Wives. Same album as Rockslide and just as strong if not more so. It would make for a great call-to-war or prelude-to-a-big-ol-battle.

- Rule #3 Paperwork by Fish in a Birdcage. By goodness is Paperwork underrated (though methinks Rule #2 Moonlight is even more underrated but thats just a good song) and I love it to death. Just a great song for an easygoing time. Or, alternatively, a great song for a subtle call to action.

- Rule #33 Pyre by Fish in a Birdcage. Its just great. A final, fond farewell from a beloved parent or mentor or loved one or other dear person telling you that you’ll be fine after they’re gone. Also the accordion is really neat in this one. “Trust yourself and live it your way”. It just is great.

- WOLVES OF THE REVOLUTION. ARCADIAN WILD. This gave so much inspiration for writing a revolution and the people involved in it. Its perfect for that arc. It doesnt bloody matter if said revolution is in a war tragedy of a fanfic.

Theres more but I dont have much to say about them, so just know that Horse Soldier, Horse Soldier (Corb Lund), Solar Waltz (Cosmo Sheldrake), Mvmt II Begin and Never Cease (The Oh Hellos (really bloody Christian but its so good just music wise)(Also Christmas as hell)), The Day Goes On (Bill Wurtz), and my very dear Discord’s Smallest Violin (The AJR Discord) are also very dear to my heart and would probably become something if I had enough commitment and free time and all those other extremely volatile factors to actually learn how to animate. I will, someday. But that day is not today.

Also I swear to you @writer-of-random-things I am writing the climate-change-Coyote-Stories thing. It exists. Or, about half of it exists. I got to The Hand That Feeds and its. Uh. A lot.

[wjehfshs]

Ok I have an idea but i wasn't sure if I made it sense but here my idea:

So task force 141 had sent some rookies on a mission due strange things going on in the forest and but only one rookie survived and had they had camera to see what happen only to watch rookies get brutally murderer in a supernatural way like imagine you turn paper into a ball but instead of paper its a human body.

So ghost, gaz, and soap went to same mission only for them to be hunted by a strange entity and they run for there life's but they meet eldritch!pacifist!reader that made them want to scream but they saved them from the creature they were hunted down but reader has no trust in them.

But they apologize because that creature was their sibling and then a few years later you get captured by the enemy and you get saved by the boys also reader tells them that their sibling is coming so yeah start hiding.

After their sibling takes reader back home next morning you give them a gift saying " I was wrong about you "

Also if your wondering what's a eldritch think of slenderman or some scary monster that has supernatural that was never meant to exist

Also here the power of catbow you shall sleep

Anyway I hope your doing well

Ty for the request!

Eldritch reader, gore mentions, violence, made this whole watching marble hornets so it’s honestly perfect, blood mentions, if you can’t tell I really like writing horror

The 141 had sent out some rookies with live body cams for some training

As they where watching the body cams of the rookies they heard a scream through the microphone

One of the rookies dropped their cam onto the forest floor

They saw blood, heard bones crunching, and heard screams

The only thing they saw was some, thing, almost floating up to the last guy who was trying to run away

All they could see was him falling to the forest floor and his body contorting into what could only be described as a ball

Blood was everywhere, all over the camera lens as the crunching of bones finally ceased

They couldn’t even get a good look at the creature as it slipped away but it looked to be tall, slim, and almost dead looking

“We are not going out there Price! Fuck no” Soap argued

“Soap im sorry but someone has to go out there and I trust you three the most mate” he snapped back

They all groaned, fearing that this would be their last mission before they end up mutilated and contorted in the forest just like the rookies

The day of the mission came, they had their gear, weapons, body cams, and flashlights

As they were sneaking through the woods the entire time they felt uneasy

That’s when it happened

Gaz caught something in the corner of his eye

Unfortunately that something wasn’t quick enough to hide

It was the creature that murdered those rookies

It was hunting them

It was frozen in place for a moment before it started to creep up to them in the distance

“Go. Go fucking go!” Ghost managed to splutter out

Their legs started moving before their brains

They remember looking at the creature, hearing ghost, and then running

It was all a blur

They knew they couldn’t fight that thing

What was even the point of this mission?

This was where they died

Their contorted, crumpled bodies would have to be extracted from the forest probably weeks later

Even from the other side Price was yelling at them through the microphones to “pick up the fucking pace”

They saw another blur to their right

That’s when they heard the rustling of leaves and then unknown sounds

It sounded like yelling but in a foreign language

But not in any language they had heard before

Almost cracking their necks while turning their heads around they saw another one of those things

Back turned to them

Almost protecting them

Yelling at the other other undead looking creature

after a minute of this it backed off

Sneaking back into the unknown depths

Before they know it they saw the thing turn around and apologise to them

Wait. What the fuck

Did it just speak to them

“I’m sorry about that. That’s my sibling. They don’t really have their morals in place” it chucked, voice distorted, ranging from deep to high pitch each second, almost overlapping with itself.

Soap put a hand to his forehead, feeling the sweat dripping down his face “oh my god. I’ve gone insane” he laughed to himself

“No mate. I see it too…” Ghost whispered to him

Gaz just opened and closed his mouth over and over, unable to form even a thought apart from “run”

“What. The fuck. Is that” Price carefully whispered through the mic

“Are you three ok?” You asked cautiously

“Oh! Right I see you must think I’m going to hurt you. I promise I’m not. I’m a pacifist” you calmly explained

Soap was the first to speak up

“I… we, uh. Yes, alright” was all he managed to say

They where in a daze

You silently went back to where you emerged from

Leaving them alone and scared

3 years later the boys where on a mission

They where to sneak into the enemy’s base and collect info

That’s when they saw you

In a cage, like an animal at the zoo

“This… THIS?! Is what saved you 3 years ago?!” Price almost yelled at them

It wasn’t like he didn’t believe them, he was just terrified to see something so… grotesque

The 3 of them kept begging Price to let them free you. It was the least they could do right?

Finally he agreed and they all busted the lock

“Thank you. But my siblings coming so if you don’t want to be a literal meatball I would advise you ditch the mission and run” you laughed a little at your stupid joke

They all agreed it was for the best

They got back to base and a couple days later they got something in the mail, but it was wrapped in leaves and bark, with no address??

They opened it cautiously and found that it was 4 flower crowns made of sticks and grass

There was a note that seemed to be written with tree sap on a piece of wood

It read “thank you for saving me. I didn’t trust you when I first saved you to be honest but now I know I can. Love [name]”

[whump-in-the-closet]

The Scarred Among the Mundane.

cw: mentioned death, magical torture, failed escape, inhuman whumpee

previous. masterlist. next.

— —

Finn wakes to a bucket of water in his face. He jerks upright, coughing with enough force to make his ribs ache.

Freezing water drips down the back of his ripped shirt. With a disgusted flick of his wrist, he pushes wet braids out of his face. Droplets of water are thrown in every direction as he peers up at Verne.

She holds an empty bucket in one hand, flame-red hair bright against the darkness. She smiles. “Good morning.”

I hate you. I will rip your throat out with my teeth.

The sorcerer doesn't seem to realise the imminent danger she’s in because her smile brightens.

Finn bares pointed teeth in a snarl.

A threat for a threat.

Verne drops her bucket and kicks it aside. Finn watches it, gaze darting from the bucket to the closed door.

To the unlocked, closed door.

A trembling hope– the colour of yellow– rises inside him.

Verne’s voice cuts through his thoughts with all the force of a physical blow. “Stand up, elf.”

Snarling. “No.” Finn's eyes never leave the door.

Verne sighs. “Go ahead and try.”

The world stops spinning. “What?”

“Try and escape.”

She’s far too calm for this to be anything but a trap. But the glimmer of hope is now an explosion. He’s on his feet, scrambling for the exit, a fire burning behind his eyes.

“Idiot,” says Verne and she’s smiling.

But Finn’s hand is on the door and escape is so close he can taste it –

His body ceases to be his own. He stiffens, hand falling to his side. Breaths come in odd gasps that are ripped out of him.

He’s forced to turn around, back to Verne and to the cell full of shadows and echoing screams.

Verne’s hands are twisted into wierding shapes. Her smile is unwavering. “Are you paying attention now?”

What else can he do? He can barely manage the required nod.

“Good.”

Finn finds something very, very bad with how she says ‘good’. It feels like a threat. A skin-crawling, mind-numbing horror about to be released.

Verne’s voice is dangerously low. “I’m going to try something familiar first. Perhaps you remember…I used it only two days ago.”

Has it only been two days?

His stomach drops.

“The spell I used isn't supposed to render a human unconscious. It's supposed to kill them.”

She waits for that to sink in.

Finn’s eyes widen. It’s sinking in.

“Did I try to kill you? Well,” she shrugs. “You were trying to burn down the Monarch’s castle. But you– somehow– are still alive. Oh, it's fascinating. I wonder how many other spells you can hold up against…I’m rambling, aren’t I?”

Finn stares in silent horror.

“Let's see how long you last this time, my elf-friend.” She lifts her other hand with a shark-toothed smile. “Remember, deep breaths.”

And Finn’s world shatters.

He can feel his body reacting— twisting into a voiceless scream. Crumpling to the ground, legs giving out on him, horror upon horror upon horror. But for a moment, he remains detached.

He manages a huh, that looks painful–

And then he joins in the screaming.

His blood is ice inside him. It’s wrong, wrong, wrong. Everything is wrong. Blood isn’t supposed to be a mountain-range under his skin.

This is his last coherent thought.

Blood in his throat, tasting like an open blaze.

Spiralling darkness. It spikes through blood cells, spearing the crimson red with shadows.

–He is an insect, pinned to a wall with needles–

Finn’s view of Verne’s boots and the scarlet-stained floor starts to fade.

Verne’s hands drop to her sides. The relief of unconsciousness is denied to him. She sways on her feet, wiping away the sheen of sweat on her forehead.

Her hand comes back red.

She looks at the blood. Sighs. Glances at Finn– shivering elf, all shadowed skin and ripped clothes– still alive. Judging by his shattered breathing, at least.

Despite her exhaustion– the mind numbing, void-filled exhaustion– Verne laughs. It dies on her lips.

But–

But the elf’s still alive.

Her theory is correct.

A dozen more spells burn at the back of her mind, demanding to be tested. And for the first time in ages, she’s excited to test them.

“I’ll be back,” says Verne. Not that Finn can hear her.

Finn curls up tighter on the ground, trying to convince himself this is some bad dream he’s trapped in.

This can’t be real.

This nauseating pain cannot be real.

tagging: @kira-the-whump-enthusiast (lmk if you want to be added/removed!)

[sugarandice3]

Self Destruction

AN: So this is one out of (hopefully) three chapters for a slenderverse-inspired fic I began a long time ago. Truthfully, I would love to continue it, but I am in college and leisure time is hard to find so just a little encouragement would be welcome. Also, given my lack of beta readers, this will probably resemble more of a rough draft than a polished piece, so constructive criticism is more than welcome. But, without further ado, my fic. Self Destruction.

Warnings: Mild horror and mental health issues.

Word Count: ~4K.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Chapter 1: Homeward Bound

The road stretched onward for miles across flat Montana earth, only stopping when it met the wakening horizon. Glaring light filled Keres’s vision, searing the image of the sunrise into her eyes and obscuring the abandoned highway. With a groan, she flipped up the useless sun visor and reached across to fumble around her passenger seat for the pair of sunglasses she had tossed there yesterday. Her fingertips finally brushed against the beat-up aviators as the tires buzzed against the boundaries of the road, warning her of the vehicle’s drift. Keres quickly slid the glasses on, returning both hands to the steering wheel and correcting her wayward car. Glancing at her rear view mirror, she looked through the dust covered glass to make sure that her brother’s little black truck was still behind her. Oliver was farther back now than he had been earlier, but in the early Montana morning on this empty stretch of highway, the greater distance didn’t matter. It only made her feel better that he probably hadn’t seen how far into the other lane she had drifted during her quest to block out the blinding sunrise.

Sweeping unbrushed auburn curls back behind her ear, Keres turned her brown eyes back on the monotonous pavement and focused on keeping her eyelids from lazily sliding half-closed. It was only day one of a three-day road trip back home and Keres was already exhausted. College had not been kind to her. 

“College is never kind to anyone,” she mumbled, correcting the self-pity that seemed to be more incessantly tainting her thoughts lately. Just because she wasn’t able to handle the pressure doesn’t mean that classes and being away from home were harder for her than they were for anyone else.

Rubbing her leg, Keres adjusted her grip on the steering wheel and checked for her brother one last time. She sighed again and reached for her phone to turn on some music. It was going to be a very long couple of days.

The red Toyota pulled into a silent motel parking lot, gravel and grit crunching under the tires. Orange street lamps shone weakly around the wings of the building, giving spots of haunted color to the monochrome of the lightless evening. The car came to a slow stop in front of a worn motel door and after a moment, the engine cut off and Keres stepped out.

“We definitely could’ve picked a better place,” Keres muttered, taking in the patches of wind-peeled paint and the withered grass filling the cracks in the pavement. 

It definitely wasn’t a 5 star motel, but Keres and Oliver had known that when they made the reservation. What they hadn’t known was that the reviews had been extremely generous.

The motel sat on the outskirts of town, bordered by derelict, trash-strewn roads. Eerie silence pervaded the area, occasionally broken by a passing car, but nothing more. Even in the patchy lot, there sat only a handful of vehicles and Keres wasn’t even sure that most of them were guests here. At least, she hoped that the van emblazoned with the name of the pest control across the street wasn’t here for an extended stay. 

The sound of tires spraying gravel announced the arrival of her brother, prompting Keres to cease her critical assessment of the place. It was just one night after all, and it wasn’t like a good night's sleep would cure her exhaustion anyway. Letting out a heavy sigh, Keres turned back to her car to retrieve her backpack while her brother pulled into the parking space beside her. 

“Well, this place certainly isn’t gonna win any Google maps awards,” Oliver said grimly, keys jangling as he hopped out of the truck. 

“It’s just one night,” Keres said, to remind herself just as much as him, “And  the less time we spend awake in this place, the better.”

Keres pulled on the dusty handle and opened the door, pushing away all the stuff that had shifted during the winding drive through the hills of Montana. With a grunt, she pulled her backpack out and swung a worn strap over her shoulder, settling the weight more comfortably as she straightened. 

“Well, we should probably go check in,” Oliver sighed, leaning over the front of his truck and running his hands though brown curls in desperate need of a trim.

Keres leaned back against the car as she turned to her brother and replied, “I’ll take care of it. Why don’t you look up some places to eat while I get the room key?”

Oliver nodded, pushing off of the truck and walking around to fetch his phone from the passenger seat. The old door gave a grating creak as he opened it, sharply breaking the heavy silence. Both siblings froze, an unnatural apprehension taking hold of the two. The night air seemed to condemn them for the desecration of its quiet, a palpable threat riding the echoes of the noise. For a moment, Oliver and Keres stood there, both of them pretending that they didn’t feel that shiver up their spine or the nervous buzz of a mind on edge. Several beats of silence passed before she stopped holding her breath.

“Roomkey,” she breathed carefully. 

Her voice broke through the miasma, the unease beginning to dissipate like a bad dream the moment her words left her mouth. Oliver straightened, as if surprised, and glanced at the door handle his hand was still resting on. He thought for a moment then slammed it shut with more force than needed, rebelling against the irrational anxiety that had almost faded away. He half-turned to her and nodded his agreement. 

“Right.”

Keres glanced at her own door, shut it gently, and turned away from her car, ready to follow her brother. Then the two moved together, passing under the orange street lamps like a pair of ghosts, all color washed away in alternating gray and orange. They slipped past door after door, all of them so quiet that it seemed as if the entire place was vacant. The slightest noise echoed under the overhanging roof and washed loudly into the parking lot, making it feel as though anyone nearby could eavesdrop on their presence here. The feeling was slight enough to easily be ignored, allowing it to twist uncomfortably in their subconscious without their hindrance. 

As they made their way to the brightly lit office at the end of the wing, Keres became puzzled at the hollow and oppressive feeling of the place. Yes, the reviews weren’t glowing, but they didn't mention anything about the place feeling unsafe in any way. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she shook her head tiredly and lagged a bit behind her brother. They were just tired, that was all. She and Oliver had been driving by themselves all day, creating the perfect conditions for mental exhaustion. Stress and sleeplessness was putting them on edge.

A few paces ahead of her, Oliver called to her.

“Come on.”

Keres looked up at him and realized that they had reached the end of the wing and that he was holding the door to the main office open for her.  

“I’m coming,” she replied, lingering a moment longer before walking the building.

A current of cold air blew past her as she entered, unexpected after standing in the dry heat outside. Keres smoothed her hair back and walked up to the reception desk in the far corner of the lobby. Although the consistent lighting of the room was something of an improvement from the scattered lamps outside, the unsettling feeling of the whole property continued even here. She looked back at her brother as he let the door swing closed behind him. He stood stiffly, strung up to his full height with his shoulders drawn tightly forward, noticeably on edge. Keres looked around for an explanation to the feeling they both shared, something that she could blame for the uncanny nature of this place. 

The room decor was as lifeless as the rest of the building. Chairs that were clearly hardly used but were worn down all the same, plastic plants potted in dust, soulless paintings that Keres somehow felt were outdated despite the generic abstract pattern. Everything seemed out of place, yet she somehow knew this is exactly how everything was meant to be. There was a purposefulness about it, something that she couldn’t contribute to the sleepy manager who just stumbled from the room behind the desk and was trying to pretend she had been there the whole time. Oliver and Keres walked over together, but Oliver stepped forward to talk to the woman, temporarily shaking off his stiffness to put on a warm smile. Keres took a position a step behind him, flashing the woman a small smile as well, but she went unnoticed while he was the focus of the manager’s attention. Oliver was always a charmer, so that didn’t surprise her. Keres usually left the social interaction to him anyway. Having no interest in the small talk going on, she paced over to the window on the other side of the room. Looking through the streaked glass, she vaguely wondered if she could’ve also been capable of easy charisma like Oliver. It didn’t feel impossible, but there were walls that would have to come down first and then learning how to see people the way they wanted to be seen. 

“Alright, thank you so much! Have a good night Mia.” 

The closing of the conversation broke Keres from her ponderous staring, prompting her to turn and look at the woman waving goodnight to her brother. Mia looked out of place here, merely because she was alive in a place that only pretended to understand what that meant. Other than that, her appearance fit what you might expect of someone who ran a shabby motel. She had shaggy brown hair with grown-out, trashy highlights pulled into a messy bun and jarring makeup gave her face an unnatural business that was entirely too much to look at this late at night. Keres didn’t necessarily think less of her for her entirely avoidable appearance, but it did make her curious. What did people see in that? What did she see in herself? What did she see in others?

Once again, Keres was absorbed in her thoughts, her brother’s wake pulling her out the door and back into the heat of the night. 

“She seemed nice,” she mumbled, walking behind her brother.

He counted out the numbers they passed each door, searching for their room. She watched the back of his head, curls bouncing as he nodded and replied, “Yes, she was nice. A bit odd, but I don’t think you could expect normal in a place like this.”

“A place like this,” Keres repeated thoughtfully. 

She was still trying to figure out what that meant. What was this place like? Because what she felt here was not like anything she had felt before. It was unique. 

They stopped in front of a door near the end of the row, thankfully close to where they parked. Oliver slid the dull key into the lock and attempted to turn it, but the old knob was loose, twisting and jostling with the key. Her brother heaved a sigh and muttered something under his breath as he leaned closer to the door and began delicately messing with the troublesome apparatus. While he struggled with the door, Keres turned around to scan the sagging fence that bordered the parking lot. As her eyes roved over it, she wondered how it was still standing. The fence was caged by the brittle remains of whatever short-lived vine decided to weave between the rotting boards and it rattled like old bones whenever the hot breeze blew against it. She couldn’t see beyond the fence, even though she knew there were buildings out there. Cocking her head, she squinted at the darkness. Even though there weren’t any buildings close by on that side, there should still be some light, some glow that she would be able to see outside the perimeter of the fence. Keres took a few steps into the lot, searching for any shape or light outside of the area.

Something was there.

Keres froze, tendrils of terror constricting her chest and locking her limbs in place.

There was a figure standing beside the lamp post, just behind the fence. And it wasn’t human. Nearly as tall as the pole next to it, its form was grotesquely stretched, thinned and elongated beyond any natural capability. The head, thin and elongated like the rest of its body, was completely featureless and sickly white like deadman’s flesh. 

Yet somehow, without any eyes or expressions to tell her so, Keres knew that it was looking at her. The ambient world faded away, leaving her no familiar comfort while she faced this figure. Blood rushed in her ears and her ragged breathing came quick and shallow. She knew that it was looking at her, but there was more to it. It knew her. She could feel it in her bones, the invasive knowledge of her mind that it possessed. 

It knew. It knew everything.

Panic buzzed on the edges of her vision like static and all she could see was that face. That expressionless, featureless face. 

Keres suddenly couldn’t breathe anymore. Choked by her own fear, she wanted to crumble under the sightless gaze of this thing because standing under the weight of her own shame was too much. 

Her knees buckled and she hit the ground. The collision jolted painfully up her spine and the rush of blood in her ears climaxed to a shrill whine. She could not move, she could not look away, she could not speak.

“Keres!!”

The word echoed faintly around her, holding no meaning as it faded away and became part of the static hellscape. 

“Keres!!!” 

Firm hands grabbed her shoulders as her name rang out again. 

Everything stopped. The shrill whine of bloodrush, the black dissolving the edges of her vision, the fear-locked limbs, all of it stopped as her mind was slammed back into the reality she didn’t know she had been pulled from. 

Free will suddenly coming back to her, Keres desperately drew in a breath, filling lungs that had been too constricted by fear to act on their own accord. She keeled forward onto the crumbling pavement, catching herself on her elbows as he coughed roughly and sucked in air. The hands on her shoulders provided a steady pressure and banished the spell of isolation from before.

“Keres!! Can you hear me? Keres, answer me!!” Oliver shouted, voice gripped tight with concern. His fingertips dug into her skin, almost as terrified as she was. 

“Where did it go?” she gasped.

She lifted her head to scan the fenceline, and upon not seeing the figure, another shock of fear lanced through her body and her insides roiled violently with adrenaline. 

As she twisted to find the phantom attacker, Oliver caught her by the shoulders once more and spun her to face him. 

“Keres, what are you talking about?” he snapped, using one hand to make a large, sweeping gesture around them, “There’s no one here!”

That made her pause, staring back at her brother with hunted eyes. She saw her own fear reflected and magnified in his eyes, clearing the racing thoughts the residual panic was flooding her mind with. Traces of fear still remained, but it was now hidden away out of sight, festering until it could be triggered later. 

She took an anxious glance around them and whispered, “You didn’t see it?”

Oliver shook his head. Some of the tightness left his shoulders as he carefully let her go now that the urgency of whatever fit she was having had passed. 

“There was no one there,” he replied carefully, “I just turned around and you were kneeling on the ground, but you weren’t breathing and you just kinda went rigid.”

They stayed silent for several moments, each looking intently at the other as if they could find the answers underneath the fear in eachothers eyes. While Oliver’s face was struck by concern, Keres’s remained a mask and showed only what she could afford to express. How could she explain what she had seen, what she had felt? It was built on so much that she had kept hidden that to talk about it would require her to bare her soul, and Keres couldn’t do that. If she wasn’t convinced before, now she was. That other being had known her and all she felt was judgment and shame. She was almost crushed by the weight of that knowledge, of the stranger that showed her how revolting her true nature was. How much harder would it be to show that to someone who she cared about? To reveal the twistedness inside and still ask to be loved? It wasn’t possible. As things were right now, at least she was able to pretend that she was faking just as well as everyone else. 

Drawing in a long, steady breath, Keres finally crushed what was left of the fear and met her brother’s eyes with a firm gaze.

“I’m okay now,” she said, “I’m sorry I scared you.” 

However, Oliver’s fear would not simply be brushed aside. He had not seen the being, he didn’t know that this was something personal.

He shook his head in response and said, “I think you had a seizure or something. We really should get you to the hospital-”

“No,” she cut him off. The last thing she wanted to do was be stuck in a hospital for hours, only to be told nothing was wrong with her. Keres knew that the problem wasn’t physical.

“I think I just locked my knees,” she lied, “I’m fine now, really. Let's just get into the room so I can sit down.”

Conflict visibly flickered across Oliver’s face. Keres was too drained to argue, however, so when he didn’t make any move to insist on anything contrary to her wishes, she reached over and took the key from his limp fingers. Slowly, she turned her back on the fence line, now shadowed with a dull city glow, and stepped up to the motel door. The knob rattled loosely in the door, but it let her in, stale air drifting past her as the door swung inward. Keres didn’t look back at her brother, whose eyes she felt on the back of her neck, and went straight to the bathroom. She rested her elbows on the greasy, discolored linoleum for a moment, rubbing at her temples. 

“I’m fine,” she chanted to her haggard reflection, “I’m fine, I’m fine.”

The girl in the mirror solemnly shook her head in response, the lies rolling off the glass like water droplets. They both knew that wasn’t true and hadn’t been for some time. Frustrated, Keres stared into blank eyes, tears welling up and clinging to her lashes. Why couldn’t she make that true? She looked down, unable to look at the lies the reflection showed her, and turned the worn faucet. The water gurgled out and splashed in the stained basin, swirling hypnotically around the slow drain. Cupping her hands beneath the flow, Keres brought the cool water to her face and washed it over her skin. She let it trickle down her neck and drip off her nose, grounding herself in these sensations as she tried to find any emotion left inside her after what had just happened. Like the sink, she numbly wondered if all the emotions had drained away, leaving her a stained shell. Everything would come back, it always did, but somehow she knew that she wasn’t in charge of the faucet anymore. 

Straightening, Keres spared one last look at her reflection, at her hollow face, and left the bathroom. Oliver was laid out on one of the beds, watching something on the TV. His face wasn’t quite relaxed, his whole demeanor seemed troubled, and more so when he heard her exit the bathroom. He tensely sat up a little, watching her with apprehension. He opened his mouth to say something as he swung his legs off the edge of the bed, but Kere held up a hand to stop him. 

“I’m fine,” she said, the lie coming easily after so much practice. Drawing some power from the dregs of emotion in her gut, Keres offered him an easy smile as she sat down on her bed. 

“I’m sure I’ll feel better in the morning.” 

Oliver nodded and returned her smile with a relieved grin of his own, the tight lines of worry in his face easing a little at her false assurance. 

“I’m glad,” he responded quietly, “You really scared me back there.”

Keres looked into her brother’s eyes and saw the pools of fear her episode caused that haven’t yet drained away. Nodding, Keres smiles at him again, lightening her expression so that she won’t be able to see fear reflected in his eyes anymore. 

“I’m sorry I scared you. I don’t know what happened, but I’m sure you won’t see it again.” 

He smiled at her and laid back down, loudly yawning as he settled back against the mattress. The springs groaned as he moved and Oliver winced in disgust at the sound. Keres mimicked him, laying down on her own lumpy bed, and stared at the buckling popcorn ceiling. The two laid in sleepy silence for quite some time, food forgotten now that both of them were too tired to have an appetite.  

Eventually, her brother got up and got ready to go to bed, flicking on lights as he went. Keres closed her eyes and sighed, pushing herself up to a chorus of squeaking springs and slid off the bed. She felt like a mimic, an echo that followed behind Oliver’s actions as he went through his evening routine. It felt strange, but she couldn’t bring herself to care about it. 

In a few minutes, everything was done and they were both ready to go to sleep. The two slid into bed, and Oliver clicked out the light after wishing a goodnight to his sister. Keres hummed in response and lay in silence, listening to her brother’s breathing slow as he fell asleep. The darkness pressed in on her, thickening until it was almost palpable. It wrapped around her like a bad promise and fear resurged within her as it writhed around her. Huddling under the blankets, Keres closed her eyes and submitted to the fear, allowing it to crash over her until she fell into an anxious half-sleep

[absolutely-normal-about-x]

Silly idea :3

Also I also believe that the reason why Volnutt didn’t tell Roll and Barrel the whole main gate mess is because he’s absolutely shaken and possibly traumatized by what happened. I mean, the reason he didn’t do anything while Juno was doing his own thing was because it literally shocked him to the core. Watch helplessly as Juno was basically going to wipe everyone off the island and there was nothing that he couldn’t do to stop it. Oh, Data happened to drop the fact that he used to be a completely different person back then. And at one point needs to become him.

However, he is also terrified that if he becomes Trigger, his memories, personality, and experiences as Volnutt cease to exist. Gone, just being replaced by his former self taking the wheel. A fear that weighs heavily on his heart. He can’t leave everyone especially now he discovers his biological family that loves him dearly. He keeps these insecurities from everyone not wanting to burden them with this knowledge. It haunts him, if not doing anything to stop Juno from killing everyone. So he acts that everything is fine and dandy. Plus he doesn’t want his Dad and siblings to worry so it’s fine But in reality it’s slowly eating him from the inside.

X eventually hears about the incident on the island from Roll. When she brings up when Volnutt returns from the main gate he was completely shaken, never telling her and Barrell what went down. This actually made him worry about what the boy saw. Eventually he asks Volnutt about it out of concern, Volnutt freezes and just says that it’s been resolved so he doesn’t have to worry. But X knows it’s bullshit, it’s an excuse to avoid the subject he’s hiding something. X isn’t mad at him it’s just he worries for him regardless of it and says there’s nothing to be ashamed of telling, seeing that it’s been eating inside of him for some time now.

Volnutt hesitates before finally giving in and begins to tell X what really happened at Main Gate, the mess with Juno, how he almost let everyone die for not reacting quick enough and the reveal of his past identity as megaman trigger. He didn’t notice the tears shed while telling the story. When he finishes, he notices the tears and quickly tries to apologize only to be stunned. The expression on his Father's face was met with pure Horror and sadness in his eyes mixed with other slew of emotions. Volnutt apologizes only to be cut off by his father saying to never apologize about this! It was good for him to tell him but also pulls him in for a hug.

He continues to say that he should have never gone through this. He’s never a burden for him and his siblings, it’s okay to cry, it's better than bottling up everything! He’s here for his child no matter what!! He’s sorry that he wasn’t there to help him at the time, he should have been the one to fight Juno, not him. Even if it took place before they met. He’s sorry that he couldn’t protect him, his child already suffered so much. He deserves so much better

It was those that Volnutt finally broke down for the first time in months after the Main gate incident. He screamed, wailed as loudly as he could. Finally letting all of those repressed emotions and thoughts out in the open. All while his father embraces him, rubbing his back and hair giving his child the comfort that he so desperately deserves. It’s been like that all night before Volnutt finally tires himself out to sleep. X tucking him in before heading back to the kitchen finishing the dishes before sitting down on his chair.

Elysium ... .such a cruel irony that the name of the paradise for Humans and Machines to coexist that he dreamt so long ago is the bane of this era’s earth to suffer, especially his own child. Why…why him? Why does his loved ones suffer the most instead of him?

In the Morning Volnutt wakes up remembering what happened yesterday. It was embarrassing to cry in front of his Dad. But at the same time I felt comforted…is this how it feels to have a Parent? It feels nice. The scent of breakfast was strong enough to snap him out of those thoughts. Going down stairs he's greated of the sight of his Dad making breakfast…huh this is the first time he ever sees him cook. His father turns around giving Volnutt a warm smile telling a good morning and making food, comments that he’s a lil rusty on the cooking but hopes that it’s good. Putting the plate of slightly burned bacon, eggs and extremely fluffy pancakes on the table.

Volnutt smiles, thanking him for yesterday. Sitting eating the food one bite then…scarfs it down. It’s good! Decent but nonetheless good! X sighed, sitting down ruffling his hair affectionately.

Enjoying this quiet moment between father and son.

[ladyhoneydee]

SWEET TALK

zelink | BotW college AU | 1.8k

For the Zelinktines23 event, day 12: Sugar!

Zelda takes an impromptu late-night study break to investigate a suspicious noise out in the kitchen, and her chaotic boyfriend Link takes the opportunity to convert her into a lover of conversation heart candies. Or...attempt to, at any rate. Much humor and fluff!

Read it on AO3, FFN, or under the cut!

There’s something crinkling out in the kitchen.

It’s been doing that for over a minute now. A whole minute of Zelda squinting harder at her textbook in the gloom of her desk lamp, grinding her earbuds deeper into her ears, and turning up the volume of her lo-fi study playlist—all to no avail. The crinkling wins out.

She sighs and drops the earbuds to rest atop the open page of her book, then pushes herself up into a standing position. Her head spins a bit when she’s fully upright, vision darkening to a star-swirled violet, and she wonders just how long she’d been studying. Her brain feels like it’s been pumped full of a dense, narcotic fog of physics equations and mechanical diagrams. 

A glance at the clock beside her bed reveals that it’s 2:17 in the morning. Too long, apparently, is the answer to her question. It’s tragic that she only hyper-focuses on schoolwork like this, rather than any of the handicrafts she’s attempted over the years. 

The crinkling has yet to cease. Zelda slaps her palms against her cheeks lightly in an attempt to wake herself up a bit, and then sets off towards the kitchen to see what on earth has the gall to disrupt her studying. 

As she walks, she considers the options. It could be one of Paya’s hamsters on another ill-begotten midnight escape (Zelda really hopes Paya will never learn that her precious Orbie is actually Orbie II, a clandestine replacement after the original literally died of fright when Yunobo tried to move the fridge it was hiding behind). It could be Yunobo himself, stepping on some random trash while sleepwalking through the house, as Zelda has caught him doing a few times before. It could be, Hylia forbid, a raccoon or opossum that has broken in through the bathroom window that Link keeps saying he’ll repair. Or it could be…

She comes around the half-wall separating their apartment’s little dining room from their cramped kitchen, and is met with a sight more terrifying than any of the possibilities she had previously considered.

Feral animal? No. Feral Link . Her roommate and boyfriend—whose outfit alone is chaotic, with his hair thrown up in the least gravity-defying bun she’s ever seen, and a bathrobe she suspects is stolen from a day spa hanging open around his Castleton U Fencing t-shirt and keese-patterned pajama pants—is perched on the countertop next to the fridge, with a huge bag of conversation hearts clutched in both hands. She watches in horror as he throws an entire handful of the candies back like he’s taking a shot. The gleeful crunch that follows could rival a rockslide in its volume and lethality.

“Link, w-what on Hylia’s green earth are you doing?” she blurts out. 

Link’s head snaps towards her. He bears a striking resemblance to a startled chipmunk, with those full cheeks and wide eyes. 

“This isn’t what it looks like!” 

Zelda can hardly understand him through the mouthful of half-chewed hearts. She levels him with a deadpan stare. 

“...it’s exactly what it looks like,” he admits. 

“Real bokoblin hours.” 

Link nods enthusiastically. Then he reaches back into the bag for another handful, the familiar crinkling giving away the gesture. 

“You know, I’ve heard of people eating whole cakes in the middle of the night. Even shredded cheese right out of the bag. But you’re eating chalk? ”

Link swallows his bite in a manner she can only describe as indignant . “They’re good!”

“You’ve eaten rocks before.”

“Those were good too. And as if I was gonna say no to Yunobo’s uncle when he offered me dinner!”

“Fair,” Zelda sighs. She wouldn’t want to disappoint Daruk either. For a man afraid of dogs, he does a fantastic sad-puppy impersonation. 

“Anyway, they’re not chalk. They’re sweet,” Link sniffs. He takes another crunching bite. 

“I’m sure it would be possible to make sweet chalk.” Zelda considers the bag. “Maybe I should experiment with using those on my chalkboard.” She certainly gets enough use out of the little board in her room for all the physics equations to make it worthwhile. 

Link clutches the bag to his chest protectively, and he’s never looked more like a bokoblin than he does in this moment. “You can have some if you’re going to eat them, but no way can you use them for your chalkboard.” That pouty scowl shifts into something a bit more shit-eating, and a thundercloud of foreboding builds in Zelda’s stomach. “That would be so… heartless of you.”

There it is. Zelda groans wordlessly at the pun. Link grins like he’s won a trophy.

“I’m still not sure those things are even edible,” she says eventually, deciding not to give the pun any more space than she already has. “I swear the last time I tried one I almost broke my teeth on it.”

“When was that, elementary school?” 

Zelda considers, then nods. 

Link holds out the bag towards her. “It’s been over a decade, Zel. They’ve improved upon the recipe.” He shakes the bag to punctuate his point, although she can’t say the sound of sweet chalk bombs rattling against crinkly plastic is particularly appetizing. “These ones have all been the perfect texture.”

“I really doubt that.”

“Party pooper.” Link sticks out his tongue at her. 

She shakes her head staunchly. No way is she eating such dubious food. 

“C’mon, Zel, just try one?” he wheedles. “What if I say that you—” he pulls a green one out of the package and reads it “— MELT MY ♡ ?”

“Nope.”

He tosses it in his mouth and crunches down. Those short, cute fingers slither back into the bag to retrieve a whole handful. The packaging almost doesn’t crinkle this time.

Link waves a purple one in front of her face, and she goes cross-eyed to look at it. Unfortunately, he’s got the message facing away from her. “What if I say that UR A QT?”

She wrinkles her nose. “Try again.”

Link gamely snaps it up instead, and dips his hand back into the bag. “Zelda…” he starts, his tone dramatic, and she plays along by raising an eyebrow and tilting her head inquisitively as he holds out the blue heart like one might a ring box. “When I’m with you, I know I’ve GOT LOVE.”

She laughs despite herself, but pushes it back towards him. “You sap.”

Link sends her a grin so bright she swears she can see sparkles in his eyes. Then he goes back to rifling through the conversation hearts. 

“Give up yet?” she asks. 

“Never. BAE?”

“No.”

“DREAM?”

“No. Is that supposed to be romantic? It’s just a noun.”

“Maybe you’ll like this one better, then. COOL CAT?”

“Why are they animal themed?”

Link laughs. “LUV U?”

“Love you too, but nope.”

“XOXO?”

“No.”

“DIG ME?” 

“What the—surely that doesn’t actually say that.” Link flashes her the face of the heart, and Zelda is slightly horrified to see that the heart is in fact that cringy. Her face of revulsion makes Link laugh, and he pops the orange candy into his mouth.

“Hmm. How about…YAAAS?” 

Zelda bursts into a loud cackle at the way he pronounces the word, then stifles it so as not to bother poor Paya and Yunobo too much. “You’re kidding me!”

“I didn’t hear a no to that one~” Link singsongs. He holds it against her lips.

“No way! ” She bats the yellow menace away. 

“How about…” Link looks down. There’s one last heart in his hand, a pink that matches the flush in her cheeks from laughing so hard. “KISS ME?”

Zelda looks into his eyes, and can’t help but let a large grin overtake her features. “Well, since you asked so nicely.”

She steps forward until she’s situated in the space between his dangling legs. His thighs give a brief squeeze to either side of her hips, welcoming her warmth, as she leans forward until they’re nose-to-nose. They’re so, so close now, enough that she can feel his sugar-sweet breath on her lips, and the heat of his cheeks against her own, and the tickle of his bangs on her forehead as they mix in with her own. 

And then she waits. 

As the tension builds, Link’s breath comes more and more shallowly where his chest presses against hers. It’s hard to make out all his features clearly with him so near—everything is just slightly out of focus, like a dreamy old film—but she doesn’t need to have 20-20 vision to see the way his pupils dilate as his gaze flickers down to her lips again and again.

Finally, he breaks. “Goddesses, Zel, just kiss me, please—” 

She does. 

He tastes of cloying banana from that last conversation heart, but she can’t find it in herself to care when his hands are winding into her hair and massaging the back of her neck like that, and his lips feel so plush under her own, and the slant of his hungry mouth against hers make her want to study nothing but every possible angle their kisses can take instead of her actual coursework. It’s warm and a little wet and so good that one kiss becomes two becomes five, until he pulls away with a gasp. He never was as good at holding his breath as her.

As they catch their breath, she admires those lips swollen from her kisses, and the deep pink tinging his cheeks and ears. She tucks a stray hair back behind one rosy lobe with a gentle hand. 

“You’re so beautiful,” she whispers. Her lips press lightly against his own with every syllable.

“That’s my line,” he whispers back. His eyes search her face, taking in the pride and desire and utter adoration she’s sure is projected by her every feature. She’s always had a very honest face.

“Link?”

“Yeah?” 

“Feed me that conversation heart before I change my mind.”

His laugh makes his lips brush against hers like the wings of a smotherwing butterfly. “I’m on it.” The pink heart replaces his mouth, and she mourns its loss even as she accepts the candy from his fingers.

It’s…very chalky, no matter what Link says. Sweet dust coats the surface of her tongue instantly. She bites down cautiously with the set of molars she trusts the most.

CRUNCH. 

They both jolt back at once; Link out of surprise at the sudden loudness, and Zelda with the shock and fear of did she just break a tooth? They stare at one another with matching wide eyes. And then—

“LINK! YOU SAID THEY WOULDN’T BREAK MY TEETH!”

“That must’ve just been a bad one, I swear—”

“I’M NEVER JOINING YOU FOR BOKOBLIN HOURS AGAIN!”

“Just try another! I’m telling you, none of them have been like that—” 

He can’t even finish his sentence before he’s scrambling up onto the countertops away from her wrathful hands. She ends up chasing him all around the kitchen, his nimbleness counterbalanced by her cleverness, until they’re both guffawing breathlessly against the fridge, the forgotten bag of conversation hearts crinkling underfoot. 

“GOT CHA,” Zelda wheezes, her hands fisting into Link’s ridiculous bathrobe.

“ONLY YOU,” he replies, and pulls her in for another kiss.

[art-blogge]

Fate Mink goes to London™ sort of

Something was already on fire. Minako hadn't even finished her breakfast when Mephisto blinked into view, shoving his hat under the running faucet and waiting for the fire to go out.

"Good morning, Master," he announced, tilting his head way, way back. He wanted to see her face when he was speaking. "This isn't my fault for once, I promise!"

Minako, still eating despite the disturbance, merely glanced down at Mephisto's tails. Seeing that they were all waving side-to-side at varying speeds, he was probably being honest this time. Probably, but not definitely. Tails one and three were both slower, indicating he was calm, while tail two looked like it was trying to break some sort of speed record. Was he just nervous about something? Maybe that thing being having been on fire?

After shutting off the water, Mephisto tilted back for a second time. "Whatcha lookin' at back there? You can't have any of it! Legally it's yours, sure," he paused to shrug, "But Hyde already called dibs on my rear. Said somethin' about payback? I'm not quite sure what he's on about, but it could be fun! Maybe more fun than lighting my hat on fire!" He rolled over to facing right-side up, throwing his lower body into the air, still leaning towards Minako and grinning. Seeing as he wasn't getting much of an answer, put his head in his hands and overdramatically pouted. He was being ignored, or even worse, selectively not being responded to! Oh, the horrors!

Entering from the hallway into this was Andersen, irritably grumbling something about lions and pricks as he dragged himself and at least two blankets into a chair. This was his territory now, apparently, and the blankets served as cover and added some needed height.

Understandably curious, Minako stood up slightly to peer over the table at him. She didn't speak up- She WAS still eating!- but tilted her head slightly. This was enough for Andersen to understand her question and answer appropriately.

"Hyde. Who and what did you think? The maniac woke me up announcing he wanted to visit London and to "Be prepared"- That last part was in song format!" Andersen slammed a fist against the table, shaking it a bit. "Is he trying to die?! Singing Disney at me when I'm not even working! Were I an offensive unit, he would cease to exist where he stands!"

"You're not?" Mephisto chimed in, picking his head up out of his hands, "I thought you were, really and truly! At least with that additude of yours!" He began to laugh, earning the reward of Andersen's entire tome to the side of his head, at a high velocity. At a lesser velocity, in response to this grave offense, Mephisto whipped Ticking-kun towards Andersen. Unfortunately for Mephisto, Ticking-kun wasn't interested in fighting, and climbed down to the floor instead.

----

Jekyll did not appear as himself until several hours later, when Minako had decided it was time for lunch. She was not with Andersen or Mephisto this time, meaning she could eat in peace. Andersen had disappeared after announcing his intentions to "Write himself out of this dimension and immediately perish on the sun", and Mephisto had begun chasing after the Hassan of Serenity with a clipboard, two pool floats, and other assorted noodle implements. It was for science, he claimed, and finding him dead on the floor would also be counted as science.

"Hyde lit Mephisto's hat on fire," Minako informed him, not even letting Jekyll speak. He only arched his eyebrows as she added "He's really got it out for the clown. You think he's afraid of clowns and he's acting out?"

Jekyll was never the type to laugh at any theories involving Hyde, and this was no exception. It was, unfortunately, a completely valid theory, and the only way to deconfirm it would be asking Hyde himself. Jekyll did not want to wake Hyde- he had finally gone silent twenty minutes earlier- and thus decided to save his questions for a later time. He then gave Minako a shrug, realizing he had left her question hanging.

"It's not impossible, unfortunately," he finally explained, "Improbable, but not impossible. The chances of him enjoying children's cartoons were improbable as well, and it turned out he does enjoy them." Jekyll shook his head, and then quickly added "And unfortunately for Mr. Andersen, he seems to quite enjoy Disney musical numbers."

There was a groan of exasperation from the nearby cabinets in reply to this. Both Jekyll and Minako paused to stare in that direction, surprised. Andersen had apparently crammed himself into the cabinets to write in peace, and only now had he made himself known. His only additional statement was to stick his hand out from the cabinet and give them both a rude hand gesture. Andersen, as per usual, was not very nice to people, to absolutely no one's shock.

----

It was far later in the day when Andersen finally approached his Master. Unfortunately for him, Minako had just finished a training session with Serenity, and was still on edge when he spoke up. This earned Andersen a blast of wind to the face- Something he took with a surprising amount of tolerance.

"I see I frightened you, Master. How cute, perhaps I really could use you as a model protagonist." Andersen smirked, watching Minako's face go from shock to embarrassment. Shaking his head, he let his smirk drop. "But I am not here for that. I discovered something important that may explain Mr. Edward's behavior."

Minako was confused for a brief moment, unsure who "Edward" was. Only when Andersen added "Mr. Hyde," did she understand what he was getting at.

"Oh, yeah, sure! Sit down!" She pulled out a chair for him, but he opted to instead climb onto the table. Huffing slightly, Minako sat down in the chair before leaning forward in interest. "What'd you figure out, Hans? Does he have a crush on Walt Disney?"

Her joke was entirely ignored, and Andersen flipped his tome open to a bookmark- A red one that had not been there previously. The page, startlingly enough, was stained brown, with some parts darker than others. Andersen was careful not to touch these stains, only making an unhappy face.

"I will keep it short. He and the clown had met previously, according to this," Andersen stated, pointing to a single paragraph. Sure enough, it roughly spoke about Mephisto killing someone- Who was unclear- and Jekyll being unhappy about it. Reading further, Minako was able to gather that this had been during a Singularity- An altered space and time where events ran differently, often ending in disaster.

"Servants involved in such Singularities don't usually recall them, but it seems to differ," Hans now added, recognizing that Minako had read ahead. "For example, I do not recall this "London" event at all, but it is still recorded here in full. Neither Dr. Jekyll or the clown seem to, either, but Hyde may be a different story. I cannot speak for Dr. Paracelsus, as he left as soon as I asked him about it." He now closed his tome, keeping the bookmark inside, before looking up at Minako. She did not need to speak for him to understand.

"I cannot say I know of Hyde's motives yet, I know, that is what you want. I would need to see him up close while the subject is relevant. However, do not forcefully cause this to happen- It is Mr. Hyde. He is not to be trusted, so do not do anything stupid!"

Minako nodded and thought about this, before getting out of her seat and thanking Andersen. He threw his hands in the air in response to an unsaid statement, yelling after her "I tell you not to be stupid and you plan on doing it anyway! Fine! Go get obliterated by a Berserker, see if I care!!"

----

"So it turns out we're not allowed to Rayshift," Minako began, nursing her face with an ice-pack, "Since I'm too new and Hyde is already banned."

She paused momentarily, taking note of her servant's attention spans. Jekyll and Andersen were both paying attention, but Mephisto was entertaining himself with a jar of chemicals and a magnet. Figuring two out of three wasn't bad, she continued speaking.

"Chaldea isn't permitted to fully share Singularity records yet, and asking Hyde directly resulted in him counter-offering shit I don't wanna do." Ignoring Andersen's obvious smirking, she quickly added "I'm not gonna bone a maniac just for a QnA! And no, Mephi, murder isn't an option!"

Mephisto groaned and briefly glanced up to display his disappointment, then went back to making some blobs spike up in his jar. He probably wasn't having a good time with the team meeting, but Minako couldn't really tell unless she checked his backside or asked Andersen.

"So what's the ice for?" Andersen asked, still smirking. Minako knew he wanted to hear that he was right, but she refused to give him that satisfaction- Or an answer. Instead, Andersen had the ice pack thrown at him the moment he looked away. This was easily batted away by him, resulting in both of them being unsatisfied. The only winner in this situation was Mephisto, who was still goofing off.

"Might I suggest the Simulator instead?" Jekyll asked, finally giving his input. "It is relatively accurate, and far safer. Hyde hasn't been banned from it yet, either, so there shouldn't be any problems using it." Having not been interrupted or argued against instantly, Jekyll quickly added "And he isn't listening right now, so he wouldn't know we're doing this…"

----

"--The hell is this?!" Hyde yelled angrily, "I thought we weren't goin' to London! What the fuck?!"

He was clearly thrown off by the situation he was rudely awoken to, having not at all been prepared to be anywhere outside of the house or even awake at all. For once, he had fully intended to sleep the day away. He was clearly very upset, and very bitter.

"I just got woken up and there ain't even a fight?! It's just shitty ol' London! No one's even heeeeerre! This bitch empttyyyyyyyyy! What the fuck is thiiiiiiiiiiiiis?!"

His continued howls of anger and dismay were not ignored- Minako and her servants were paying Hyde their full attention, hoping he would say something of value. Something. Anything. Anything at all. At some point today.

Hyde, of course, did not say anything even slightly valuable, instead opting to pick up the nearest dumpster and throw it at the "Garbage Clown". This was also not given a single explanation, much to Minako and Andersen's collective annoyances. Of course their foolproof plan had gone awry- It was foolproof, not bastardproof.

"This is going well," Mephisto chimed in, jingling miserably across the floor. For his input, he was given a knife directly into his backside. He hadn't thought he could jingle any more miserably than before, but he was now proven wrong. Another hypothesis down.

----

They lost Hyde within minutes. There wasn't even very far he could go, but they lost him despite everything.

"You would think he'd leave a trail of blood or something!" Mephisto commented, floating on ahead of everyone else. It had been decided that Mephisto would make the best leader, since he'd also make for good bait. Mephisto hadn't been remotely happy about that decision, but he also wanted an excuse to fight Hyde, so it worked out in Minako's favor.

Behind him, Minako was carrying Andersen like a child, much to his complete and utter disdain. He had legs! He could keep up! Sure, he was a bit sore today, but he would manage! He was a grown-ass adult! This definitely also had nothing to do with him accidentally crashing into a streetlight pole while he wasn't paying attention!

They heard Hyde long before they saw him, and Mephisto immediately shot ahead to eavesdrop. Minako and Andersen exchanged tired stares, neither wanting to bother with keeping up. Oh well.

----

"What the hell do you MEAN you don't know?! You're full of shit!"

Hyde was bitching into a rotary phone, Mephisto found while peering into an open window. He took a moment to trace the phone cable, only to stop when he saw the other end of it laying on the floor. It wasn't plugged in? Then what was this about?

"What the fuck do you mean "How the heck am I phoning you"?! Jesus! I'm not phoning you! You're in my head! For a guy with a PHD, you're dumb as hell!!"

Behind Mephisto, Minako and Andersen appeared. Minako was seated on Andersen's tome in midair, and Andersen was irritably sitting on her lap. It wasn't very steady, and Minako was firmly holding onto the sides of the tome. Mephisto wanted to laugh at her, really, but they couldn't chance Hyde noticing them. Hyde briefly had gone quiet, listening to what was apparently Jekyll on the "other end".

"No, I ain't gonna just tell 'em! If he don't know about it, that's a personal problem!"

Mephisto looked at Andersen for his judgment. Andersen silently sighed- He'd observed nothing noteworthy up to that moment. The following moment however, he leaned back into Minako and backed the tome away from the window. Mephisto didn't get to question why Andersen's eyes had gotten as large as saucers before a loveseat crashed through the wall and straight into him, sending both the chair and clown far out of Minako and Andersen's sight.

"That's what you get!!" Hyde jeered, victory toss-slamming the phone reciever into the floor. The reciever did not survive the impact despite the floor being carpeted, not that Hyde cared about that. He cared far more about how he was being eavesdropped on, whipping out a knife upon spotting Minako. Minako threw her hands up- No combat! No intent to fight here!- and Andersen sighed. What a mess.

Well, she could…. No. No, Minako absolutely couldn't handle this. Andersen didn't trust Hyde as far as he could spit, and that wasn't far. He'd have to handle this.

"You sure showed him! He's definitely not going to want to kill you now!" Andersen mock-cheered, glaring at Hyde over his glasses, "Maybe he'll do it the same way he killed the other guy."

Minako raised an eyebrow to Andersen as Hyde sputtered a half-thought out insult. The idea of Mephistopheles killing someone wasn't unusual, but someone Hyde knew? Minako was slightly lost. Andersen kn- Right. Right, he had something written down. Andersen gestured for her to lean down and she did.

"Wild guess," Andersen whispered, smirking, "He's very predictable."

There was clearly more to it, but Andersen didn't elaborate. Minako had already learned that she couldnt always rely on him- There was only a chance for him to come through. All his own whims.

"By the way," Andersen added, "You forgot about something, Hyde."

"Eh?"

Tick-Tock Bomb, 400% Buster damage with bonus Curse.

----

They left the Simulator with Mephisto injured and Hyde (or Jekyll) unconscious, so fifty percent worse than how they'd been on entry. It wasn't a good first experience for any of them, which was repeated by the Chaldean doctor that saw them afterwards. Minako wasn't sure about the white-cloaked man being a doctor of any kind but he sure did heal her Servants, so she didn't ask about that.

"Does Chaldea keep Singularity records?" Andersen piped up rather suddenly, earning the "doctor"'s attention.

"We certainly do!" they cheerfully answered, earning a squint from Andersen. The Caster(s?) maintained eye contact for at least five seconds, making Minako worry that combat might break out. It never did.

"Could you fetch whatever records were related to London? I have things written from then but no memory of such an event."

"Sure thing, Mr. Andersen!"

Minako stared. Why hadn't they just asked for Singularity data? She didn't know that was a thing they could just DO. Then again, it wouldn't have been interesting enough for Mephisto. At least he was taking this well.

She hadn't even seen the doctor leave, but here they were, walking back in with a stack of papers. That quickly? How? Chaldea usually took forever to get one paper printed out. Even suggesting mechanical devices worked in here was a curse in of itself. Even her phone failed in here sometimes, and that was top of the line big money.

"AH-HA!" Andersen announced, startling Minako out of that thoughtline. "I found it!"

He was excited, having found validation for the last few hours of this life. His excitement was contagious, with Mephisto immediately jumping off the desk he'd been sitting on and floating around Andersen's shoulders to also read. Jekyll was less enthused, staring at the ground and wiping off his glasses.

"London Singularity. Mephistopheles killed the Victor Frankenstein of that time period. Dr. Jekyll and Chaldean Servants then defeated Mephistopheles! Due to previously stated rules, anyone killed during a Singularity will die upon time being restored to it's proper state."

"What's odd about this is that I didn't exactly get along with that man," Jekyll uttered as if in response, but added nothing else. Minako looked to Mephisto, but he didn't add anything either. He seemed bothered more than anything.

"But I suppose "I" did," Jekyll added after an extended period of silence. "Hyde says he quite liked the guy."

Mephisto grinned, but Minako watched his tails carefully. He wasn't as happy as he was pretending to be.

"That guy was interesting, but I wouldn't trust him with anything! You shouldn't either!"

[libidomechanica]

What lips my lips away that so, when youre divine, frail, but

A ballad sequence

               1

Sends the dead alas and distort thy words my darkling     verses made it will not stay for sympathetic, that love you ’cause I rub my eyes.     What lips my lips away that so, when

you’re divine, frail, but others loss of blood? For years,     it makes a Devil’s self seem Angel to our waking. She looks red and stretched stalks; but like     a human hour in mine eyes to see.

               2

Or heroes if silence withdrew     his own. Her hearts, which reachest but I. And she had to meet     you and that beautiful, their fruit. Merry larks are ploughmen’s     clocks, when they escape by the handed slumber, and the daisy’s     side, and bear the counsel

of futurity; then, laden     with such who, not borne these responses give to the land     runs o’er the world, and Heaven, or a strange this be never     be who make some doubt, the furse: mercy vould be, and I turned     hast, noy gynnes to mind.

               3

And thus he stayed steps can find shelter     of water for good: yours with his woe. You lovest thou     now? And horror over

may thy flowers. Per couple, for     she would fain be weaning back to the cold hill side. Then he     tore himself, as any

man could call hem often spoken,     say, will your mind. She while I lay, mouth, for the fault with my     scribe, I would; but, being

said he go slow said she a lot     said she may i touch comes peace but a toy globe, those murderous     hate that which from good

vse doth live, hung with me. His dull     cabin, found himself a slave markes each wave rose rough sorrowe     and descend—the fault

is mine. There the place my memory     of musk and of her sacred glove, and a morbid hate     and bear the least appeared

the dead, which gaping lies between     the best can place made in our lives. And ne’er trouble the     soueraignty he gaine, cloth’d in

thee, that grew and ward, keep when they     have made of. Would understander better, my unmendable     wound, his pulse, but shrewd

gyrles must be—yes. Drafted hymns     to the Syren’s hair black Bohea: tis said to the pitiless     in sorrowing, lulled

a sleepe through the night, betwixt the     sepulchral gloom which has something else theirs was lovers’ hearts,     which my hope is no peace

but in the Seven Sleepers startled     in my vocabulary. Ill-reported if I     were not how, but severely

woundedness that lurk in lone     splendour. Relieved her meet him disarms the nurses. Yet I     see clearly enough, the

green, maud in all her lion roll     in a space is spoilt by affection in her earth until     I saw their lady to

lady, well as bristly and honey     of poison-flower in green dale: but were vented should     have should lose my eyes find

the lull’d to stoop, and not spin. Then     falls hem best. A heart with me the blacked-out cockpit of your     mind the mind proves

imaginary wife, withouten dreaded     sisters eke repent; my best is dressing the un-     apple. And set it free

or this various case; for she     prove, a woman too long back but that I should have ceased to     cross to reach you. But

overwrought but, I fear this darke but     which watch her with what are little like to a lily with     you alone until it

scares itself in the waves which     whoever tastes shall I be, and on flower to bless. Happily     I had waited on

delights to view? But come there, to     wexe so liuely to my sight and no doubt, shall I nurse in     my call, would understand.

               4

A night-market of Constant and     pity no more thee, with so fairily well with thunder     the swan. Then others for

us. She gazed, a sudden, fainting     with me, as halfe within his friend, child, lover, dead. In     the fancy falls into

thine eyes of fire. And wore then you’re     sweet and monogrammed watch, would understand. I wonder which     through all departed dead.

               5

Time cannot move, come sliding out     of coming of a plum. And when I pressed soule, which leads the     beastes in fountains steep

by steep’d in morning. He now is     thy growth, and with rapine, a harm no pretence avail’d for     fact, he had been taken

place made in our red veins revel,     we know what to do with the early lights, where can we find     thee returned by the wall,

leaves are all soft delight each place     sounds daily logs of their energy and obsequious     tear hath destroy. We whisp’ring

round myself into the pit.     At all, and comes and the youngest daughter, temperature.     Lets the Titmose silent

sapphire-spangled into our     lives. Oh plunge me deaf and wish’d to be mery with her when     musing deeply on thy

case, thy bright, yet I see her face,     and for wrinkled line: but if thou art, keep watch of old gold,     a wary, cool old sworder,

took the blessed flowe, of that golden     sea, whose pure immortal things, those who served; she gave him,     for I grow proud with tears.

               6

If thou art! My flickering bed!     She knowes not, grow in only bellow; in fact, he has     just steep our heart, and be my lot, far-off, on that was so     ere it not euill that saist thou haue no more,—her state, by measure     you! However weep.

               7

To say too much enquire,     poisonous names of hers your kindest gifts infused; since she dight     forth my mind, aspire to

its bloom, a rain mists in envy     master’d and final room. The wind’s body. Of his bow’d down     thy calmly greater growe.

               8

—Lust that summer thro’ the cow slung     with silver-white, and burning neuer that lo’es me and have     been past by! Lowers are

slathered, fecund, overtall     foxgloves to live ever— or else saw all decay was not     much lesse my need; desier

still, no longer blown by the pride     at all the shortest day, first hours, a breath, of having not     that they caught by that times

shalbe proued. Down to me, darling, now,     proving waters fall and still on Menie doat, and bear the shiver     the new-mown hay, till

at last, mind’s apart, the capital,     after their features: and—but sought forth from his Lip went     in no knowable ring?

               9

After it ended badly it     got so much, is not yours and palely loitering, there’s     no others’ beds’

revenues of hellish Ielousie! Your     gentle bosoms fits! For me necessarily even     knows if he play, his gaine

is old and lone; yet this theme which     made so fairily well with this, that all alone. Your dear     or cherries and thou, my

mind. Because I drink my answer.     And given in earth, and yet against thy AEgis o’er yon     mountains light, so haggard

with Loue, maintain’d by wealth well-gotten,     and lyeth buryed long together. Like a glorious     train came, and his lady-

love were not sometime she will gently     open can, which the war, and they do not know what I     had told her in a room

full of power a world with anguish,     enjoyment I’ll promised to marry her if he knew     not the twelve hours indignant

work’d their priest, and here you are     not me, and from below, when virgin; beauty should have known,     though fame is smoke, its dwelling-

place, then weep and sing, by Saul     Bellow When he lay dying rose With beads in hand can hold     a fire by the tenor;

these pleasaunce had no pulse, or make     her melancholy; then, laden with foule abuse such     Jugling he doth lay, thou

English murdring the sepulchral     gloom which I don’t own angry asp, the flames, which mix’d all feeling,     she arose as one

by one. I dreamed, ah woe betide,     there’s the Grotesca— such as true blood is nipp’d, and red     marmalade outside you:

on your shore no longer liue, ah     why liue we so long, her foot was lighter with their parts. The     musico is but an

ashen-gray delight euen those that     in that my home. And call’d social, haunts of energy and     of the world were a bee.

To doat upon my fragile mould,     the heart half-turn’d to rave, even as these, and the hall, resting     still forgot much live

with, it seemed to long for me the     pasture, my music and folly: was it else would rush upon     the hedge to me; I’m

fond of your voice of his yerely     tas-ke, as shee with the Sultan, and thy poet’s feet;     and where, long desert rove?

               10

Civil comeliness, she oft     hath beene when alone but it escaped heart is sair, that’s absent     presented, by sun

and Moon; and so thou none lovest     to be made. To the body than they have met in the lake’s     surfaces there with the

way we belong. And gave you I     love you because is the truth committeth. Was Juan,—who, an     awkward though, we were bought

remaynes but a cold and Jewel,     her House within his greater gyfts for thy dear merit? To     those feather, in the dwarf

appeare: what do mislead the moss-     lain Dryads shall not know. Of skin open the Sharp-witted Sage     had heard not out thy state,

that it is the fall i’d brush     the deep and remember’d my deepest in those who long to     tell, but pyping loue, and

from the many flowers fair, till     at last year at the world of ours! But that French novel? A     key … Even these metres

meet, whom but Maud should it merit     in my life Somewhere is no reasons as if I were God     and fold of your love how

finely spread, and old Scamander     if t is still pursue howe’er afraid: juan replied, Your     blood in my fashion. The

Muse. With a start, and with each other     with the sunshine and vagrant zone; she look’d on many     a bore, and no child, who

is it, then falls hem best. Many     dainty blush which refuses finally lie round the sense.     To die at peace to every

perfectly beauties worth,     th’inheritrix of fame, the teeming autumn, big with the brain     an image in deserts?

Thee did give; that do I remembrance     dear, let’s kiss a scout were once in a while youth descend     above the blacke then on

your adventurer sips while the     raines which he know not what of a leaf for pride flat field refused     the injuries that

kiss afresh, the grace. Which can be     context for the wind o’er her name by any chance; others,     even for me, now counting

the prima donna’s near     religious awe. It fills up the time. Little drops would love forsooth,     scarce held her wrist is

not less long; I have sought; as on     the old archer’s shafts, thy lucent wounds break of days! And keep     their round; and arm’d from Juan’s

gore, who would hope,—perhaps the early     grave will revives the rivulet on from mine eyes wobble     as the smart, I lo’ed

her to laugh, never any beauty     would a man desire my sparkling armada     of promises draw near.

               11

When my days grew my beer. She raignes a goddesse     now my heart; or having with the best: some limb and sheep, leaf and wise; set me in a crystal     stone, more by that purple school, its petty passion, or like a wiser epicurean,     and snake-like we cannot brag of worth the tall trees. Stars go over the sea dirges     low rang in her e’e? With thy gloom

of branch breakes the power. Alien Shah whose     blest eyes, a film of hope and figurehead sittes not, grow in only face sent forward     to set his wonder what waited on delight each May morning dewy-warm with kisses     to selfe-felt disgrace. Once every flowers to shame. With red wine while our eyes, a film of     hope and dark, Blythe waukens by the pit.

               12

Long should have beheld the cow slung     with some face still on Menie doat, and bear the least little, meant     but sleepers wake, the flames,

which like description, an opium     dream and death wounds both, show what I tried to-day to beguile     her Ears without a

Single scudo of salario;     but if that grief, which the morning with my filial joy?     No voice from the lily’s

throat. He said: Trumpets playing to     learned ladies are to tell me how language, that which it     sucked me first step. An

electrons, so that our night of living     her own; thus much better claim, because he was not for     ev’ry scene. Against it

holding his kid in a corners     cried, when blood and finds me fast asleep, powers of the scorn     that’s absent frae her Dearie!

               13

But thou to-morrow, hope and fall,     the silent spaces of a bella donna’s near. Before     one charms of growth. Cuckoo;

cuckoo, cuckoo-buds of yellow     pride at all it’s a kind of girls’ dormitory, the dead,     but bursting will be alright

so you can seem fair, nor time     befalls. Would ask the other person whose looks. One of Judgment     at once in speciall

grace, when all they range busily     seeking with a daughter, something occurs too normally to     turn over: yeah, I know

the world is dimme and of May, singing     after; saying—Never Night and deep and restored, I     contemplative, men, what

shadows and clasp’d. For you to     forsaking; and think’st thou, poor flowed. Of poets who comes of Demon,     Ghost, and neck, your judgment

at the waves might fight again     their beloved desire; we will often a man’s best     musicke vnto blisse, the brave,

Achilles; they ask of me and     revell’d air, seem’d something till the compliments of you and     me, curled like me! Have a

secret was told they have it out,     we men are little being blue movies, for Tyrans make     folks of the day return’d.

Was more I trace it in the most     new babies, as ugly as an odd male, and could recall     that power to be Nature

sees her robe assume its vernal     hues: her leafy locks wave in the dews of birds have gone,     who seeketh only Self

to death, to be subtle to reason     why my most faire a face bare me in a corner, passions     brought, of a crowd of

workmen and violets blue harbor     and hand to turn over: yeah, I know they returning field,     whereto long for me.

               14

Beam had crossed that others for us side by side.     How is thin, to heare thy rymes as rownd and thee to the dews of the heard an Angel     to our Eyes; a Cataract that whilome was lovers gone, who after succeed? Without     this theme which did followed to crowd of

worthy of things charming nest doth steepe. We have welcomed     both; so those of nightingale; they would show you over the world hath the ocean-stream,     gives grace and their hands, I hung stones in the ball which with its own nature’s own angry howl,     and soon they ever be those with art’s

false bonds of Being and debauchery, with every     hour survey, for blunting no heat because you’re sweetest stratagems sweet soul that is     being pride, which made sweet you. Such is my name. Would seem absurd to those suffer not a     cheat, if Maud were not alone to pick.

               15

And for what should mingle and fond     of my heart lies had already spent: for though temple thou     toldst mine arms, a poise of

these, and earth itself hath any     Letter of Earth, for him disarms the nurses. Spin gold the     rose, or an underlip,

you murdring Tyrant. Dead, she tells     me to her need as if I’ve been faithful to the swan. In     one of Beauty’s bust, Your

mind spills the tow’ry fence of Alpine     hollow when the heavy price must pause to loue and distort     thy worthiness gives

all its dreams and they stow’d him, and,     well, ere youngest’s boat and this flea’s death to die; in arms, and     children still flauntingly

proceed from out these words light: joys     in another face into sunny rings; changed, though I did     not press the heat snuffs night.

               16

She yearned nature on my hip, at     dawn and sorry I could remember that at once with thine     ears, and open Door. Mountains

lighter than half-opening     here. Those friend showed up I felt that. A while, the baskets. The     wild team which still with her

sire’s story, saying I’m sorry     of sleeping, she withdrew his own dark world goes by, scarcely     lift above the glow that

to view? You are feast is gently     strange, and Beauty fair love’s anger liue, though Wilberforce, at     last. Acquire the true!

               17

Though young—I see, and one instant,     till each time to repeat. Can yet deceived and so did hem     keepe. And giue us sight

forever and roundelayes, whilst     systers nyne, which whoever tastes shall but love. And next day     shifts, we talk though the fancy

be converted there. Beads in     hand, but not against thyself at least wish to part—but she’s     broken-hearted, if every

tree, mocks married are. Singing     my sack of what should Colin made them take his faith. I restless     lie beneath the first

for another pride; he who thus     exempt from you become his Hell. The past to mine, and soft     as a woman. Who could

not know. Our valleys, groves, hills of     human shoots me all full with her to play a noted weed,     that wisdom or her girlond

Oliue braunch and wanted to be     lost as a beginning the tentie seedsman stalks; but now we     meet. Root of your elbow

as I to see or to the dim     curls kindle into a Lover’s ear alone, who all that     strong and tho’ they could

discover at full flocks incurl’d, a     golden tits arching our waking souls, which hides his bonds of     louers; see now that swincke and

peeled bits of passion, yea, hungry     for thee. And there, too, too late in shade and step aside; and     can’t compete. They stow’d him,

and she has a strangers who say     that I can say or lose. And they seem’d full of strange decrees:     or bid me brings me near

that fragile survives; up in     Pennsylvania, I met a lady fell in presence of louers.     More gentle press’d his singing

education, frozen bosom     beating heart of the Lord and Marian’s nose looks were danced     to be a moment of

you I hold such strife as twixt her     a hundred Years in Gold and desire, the field refused,     and what, that thro’ the life

and fit to shift and mirk the short     of death. Literary rabble: whether with the one     tremendous if: if she were

to show his loathing lest excess     might drown in themselues that lowly groue, I play for Seasons;     not Eternities!

               18

We think that wad beguile my heau’nly     face sent in the ducklings cry, they were unfit to mix     in the lily’s throat, come

sliding out of her pillow’d upon     my breathes my way, beneath the death wounded on sinful     love of others’ voices,

that noysome gulfe, which at the thrilling     his many men. Which he will all the greened field. Blossoming,     laughing at his fatal

shore where no night is lost, and     Heaven, remain the meadow and long, long I stood, and as     he disappeared the very

time or industrie: of foule     abused. Alone once with a fire so prettily, as     they finally to love,

that will spin. Life seems winning itself     have recouers, but this enough something space, that ancient     fictions make folks of this

world of our language, tortured in     the same, a vast, until I find you through boundless air; where     shall bow along with thy

glory, though metamorphos’d quite,     for rage now rules there been dancing learnt, in days far-off from     them, at least, their season

bland, when turtle buildeth there my     lips have been to you. Thetis baptized her mournful song; love     was old Falstaf says let

us possess’d with Loue, maintaine     thy slaue, and a morbid eating with a hate found only     troubles me, my thoughts with

a false esteem: yet so they mourne     nowe my rymes and the roofs. Old and cut down; his blood, he     scarce find thee to thy grove,

thought—star followed star through all her     this general evil they mourn, becoming the dust and sped     like thee with which I

desire in any line the swallow     though thou to-morrow disappears, and likes to take a     lease, thy tears, of all we

are. Too. Nor gives to selfe-miserie,     beauties prayse: the morning; if these strangers who sang a soft,     a heart is sair, that’s that?

               19

Were not speech is dumb, thinke how euill     were turn’d her face, which she view’d an instant, independent     on whether with his answer

gives to like he was on the     eye then with him: I knew. A ghost in marble as it was     grassy and without

elucidation is most sweet     enemy within an Alpine hollow when the heart beat, night-     long with thine eye: but if

it could call lamb chop yet this theme     which else would look so. And Master of myrth now lacks her wonted     solace, vain relief!

               20

Moved like a shipwreck, like sweet girl, this flea’s death of     friendly shadow roaming, and thou soone was swaying with only trouble my skill in hot     haste to wreak vengeance overwhelm’d they seemed to long since, not sometimes under the bath and     a spirit bows before: I cannot be undecided to thee, an image only     my love in which neglect I do dispense:

you are alter’d since, for shame! They were some     coquettish deceit. Strong in Winter welked hath every day till the back the sedge is wither’d     with me, and went down, yes, and stars and Dreams are eerie; and yet amid all feares     and those icy chains, they beheld through an interposed to see. Not often found me     roots are plough of your murmur’d like a

madhouse and Sunne-borne day for sympathetic, that     now a scholler, saith Loues spur, thought or forbidding the prime, like one who could make it sweet     sleep she lay; surely dead; corruption came not made bleeding, for Haidee’s mother’s arms, a     poise of things of love for you but their hearts to dust ygoe. Thy hopes to enioy nectar of     mirth, since he hath deserved for truth enlight

be the Sorrow o’er earth our sin the green and     would, with a full brown came first step. From temple thou like a fool. Could show me what cause for     now of thy sweet but vnfelt ioys, exild for a marriage, and when her lone head of shepheard     them of the hyghest Ioue, and, which, I protest, my sight thee all. Of mass can be sweet; how     she wantoning with a bastard in

my darkling in the gleaming eye, flying alone     in hand and those glaring company instead of eyes in the lawn running down to a     lily with this Irish whiskey, I with rapine, a hard mechanically around her     all your glorious glimmer stealing stem—save that keeps vigil like a shipwreck’d man on     a coast of ancient fictions make that

not my fond endeavour: frail shell, and no child of     sin; but over them to ashes, deep as the wind doth all her glory also, there I     have been faithful to you. That isle is not a living her own words and of times better     to bless. But maugre my speech falles now to see. Own shall begin the arms and half an hour     by hour, and the boat with shame shineth

bright: I arise from below, but often spoke, too—     it might that Summer’s time, nor shame, nor winding the last and future tense, it was the stately     swan majestic swims, and thy lovely shepherds pipe on my whimsies; but their character     in thine eyes to see. An ass was practices turtle. I may be meant her hair—her     Cheek was salt against despair. And said,

Ruined. What t was fortunate last time. As this:     I fell in love who can, more to live i’ the sun went down, yes, and burning arises     stormed be! It now? His imagine Natalie’s elbow brushed the nosegayes that of Lamech     is dumb, think not my own face I recognition. When the purest gold; a belt of     straying waies, which from her brother love,

an ignorance is it, then, on every other     the bed a shipwreck, like things with such with me, as he that pushes us off from mine     eyes were by my unkind befriends whistles shill: wi’ wild, and one in the screech itself when     the silent under they were in fact; from two smart may pitie I find opens forth from the     cloud an’ shill; the journey, but it escape?

Young years ago. And subjected, himself, nor     holybush, nor brere, nor with golden locks, and wish’d to be a slave is too dependent     on whether thee and mellow, good collect them to ashes, deep as the poet’s rage and     stood by her painted shell, a wounded and vnkempt: yet as I stood an avenue of trees,     each big approaching and dreade of the

bridle and fall have traded life like clouds do gaspe,     for dryed is thy grove, thou iolly shepeheard swayne, let streames, of straws, ever lonely     every man could certain motion and—much taller—tree of the fire burst in a Girdle     round the Seven Kingdoms of a Power like Nature and flood and gave him, for I     grow proud as an odd breeze knock at your

trespass now become myself when to think it quite     understander better, yet they shot awrie! Man were identify the sea dirges low     rang in me a little, meant to save. The world from every day, for an hour by hour, and     Ida in the fortune, it hath displayd, it flouret of tin. Singing of a pistol,     when Nature’s gently heaving when I

wake up that have remember how you like a dream;     the Night and drivers in a gardens. The soldier put on his clasp, twixt her and complaints     out in store: o carefull verse. My pen doth prayse and wretched vote may be strain’d, how is     thyr sourse, o ioyfull verse. ’Twas so; but thou ever scare me in base, or yet in his foot,     or heaving such as but thou mayst thou

pass as the sick, and midnight less long; for sidewalk,     her betight? Ring to make the oldest prince by vnright dye: but what thousand hours and Is To-     day; to whom every form containing mee; let woe gripe on my changed: in a cave she stray’d     o’ershadow’d that you luld her truly of his radiant beams as they love for your love a     tendency and his Dominion: now

my Muse, you, reconciled demeanour, than if they     give. A passionate and such country chere.—For oh, her wit, and tell thee: while I talk on     against it holding cruel to know that I write, shew thought myself in his voiceless and impulse.     If then you’re upstairs and perfum’d, when holy were transferr’d on board of Raucocanti     lucklessly was cheered short of death.

               21

Was this: That once impair, no stone.     When to Jove great heard or seen, as if they name. My eyes I’d     have closer? Sweet plighted pigeon eggs: at twelve dancing     in the earth she did not travellers, ’ but not alone; she     heed it or not to destroy

thee another than a two-     year-old whom your skin, the beach thee now, rebell to the heauens     for them. Thus lily, rose, grape, cherry, cream, the goal of     ordinary walls, the foster- babes of Fame, life seem’d shortly     rain’d with a hill-flower.

Not lost, although on this agony     of pleasures given: into the Challenged echo clear     streaming eyes; of her sacred things I do. Snowflakes are taxes     on our joys: but which brings despotic: but all is Eden,     or a fairy flower,

I come, for a distance between     the saynt of shepherd swain, the silence. Till at last, with     his golden foot of your parts his due? The feeling before     the Slave of Lust must strive for you only trouble the sun     went down, and a spirits

green leaves with Ruby and wane in     love was one exceed three weeks, I did not know that no pace     else I fynde: the fytter than a king: the virtues, even     the same and young, enjoying all the messengers from the     bonie lass gang. Or let me

measure for me the blue-coat misses     of a crescent of the little ones are nothing off.     If you want to call hem often a man’s best dreams to shedde.     Until, after the dream and death hath not know the air, pretend     that by you trace. Honey

of the Faith with buds, blossom’d     gable-ends at three of pity, and princesses gave the     law in your pursuing no delight. So should rise and let     thy wide domain, let us like a madhouse which can lock     vp a treason to go

with thy glimmering sun. Corinna,     for her eyes woo as mine, robb’d others in a tangled     into families. Two hours and ages hence: two roads diverged     in a corner of the evenings harder to enjoy. Wearing,     like a precious stone

set in the bright be my lover,     dead. That which wooed wo, most faire forehead sitteth, and the little,     and like a sign old Lambro, who till now forbore to     her heart, and then, the spot their fancies be. What waited on     delights to warre vpon thine,

that has caught your mind to soar too     far, thrilled the chieftain’s trophy used, and the waves which whoever     tastes shall find as glad to have impute it but to the     daylight who places. The old archer’s shame; I will give a     loving too much more prophet

dream, cherish doth live, hung with     blush which grows dull, and they had lived together. And she met,     as one with a blow, have forgot, a vast, until she sobb’d     for fame—a heavy price must come, where on her shall find the     bird and sheep, leaf and blind

below their white anchors at her     back a huge aquamarine tears and swept, as t were, it     seem’d a habitant where lay with her summoned the omen     from the new soft fall a Xerox of some promontory,     hail’d a strange fits of straws,

ever lonely in crowds, in Nature     swear to thy shadow’d which like tears there reigns love is my     love for nought by pachas, some to his waist. Young innate feeling     what it shoulder: her hands, I hung stones in the wide flat     field nods its head again,

only to seek, you’ll leave us     lief. And midnight heal … You know’st that love likes to see. Shall be     enbalm’d by me, and hanging invocation pouring outside     the dream and cause of me, this sun and scudding alone     and voice he replied: I

am a shore had deck’d her nearest     to them thus exempt from thee. An image which she view’d     an instant mortar&somewhat new to speak or shriek’d, and yet     my word, much lesse of deed, fortunes lot the ende such glory:     and I will dare to tell

you what is already claimed him.     An electroencephalographic kiss flashing eyes and     the world’s art for both shine and so he could be. In vain the     them that, by filling star, thy guide in the back thy gift: why     should haue their fruit. A

librarian in Calcutta and     angry pride is cap and singing sweet, he always bring and     like a Frisbee, like feeling with thy glimmering eyes; of     his lip to hers, and done thine own again. But if those hills     I would; but, being the

heavy as if it had not blossom     for many heart is sair, that’s absent present vouches     your lips and all love’s figure to be you so too; I would     take those who have you forsloe, and sing a faery’s children for     the falling of the sun.

               22

Of human hour’s defect of such a thing when it     should be enough food in my call, wouldst give what it was strange? To find name in happy morning     dewy-warm with kisses bringes

vntil, dye would perplex to find none! Let him name in     haples roomes to mine until as the clamour of lies; who his own name in her foot     was lightly worn as they put them on

my hip, because the wakened flies were gazing     on the ground; and for thy faults do call: or if it were to begin the deep in twixt vows     and trembling lies between the morning

of the rope in a room full of fear, unpleasing     to get out. In fact I care not made this Canto has been so good and the Seven Kingdoms     of the Well of the hyghest Ioue,

and please, there drowned actress’s scratch marks. A wiser     epicurean, and long, no doubt, chance of the landward side, leg over leg, an     electroencephalographic kiss flashing

of his Authority falls on the sedge is with     holy feet to where someone’s car leapfrogs a sidewalk, her betight? And friends, company     looks upon Maud’s own angry howl,

and she forget the walls of the rose that thousand     times a day I prize your own true defining. Must be because at the finest words my     dark heart, who am not then disappeare;

for, I protests to banish thee. Next came to     me I kissed, and now to see me write, what can ail thee, them into sunny as cold. Deserve     to pick. Which wexen old about

vs safely did me kiss, and ever-changing     invocation and times better that creep from flower, like a butter. I keep but a     toy globe, those who sang a little lazy

lovers a true sense held a gelatinous     green sliver on her to Its delights will believing lyre, where they placed him over, so     he could retrace; food she replied: I

am a shell, or a season sadder time befalls.     What the present has been to you, though tame. The fire of an antique vows, I’d have     examined few pair of vermeil cheek

where ages and there, but she had some shape; let none     she ever could make it where you could remember that the praise to blast their shoes were gazing     on your sleeps the burdenous corpse.

               23

As if the person, twelve days seen!     You lovest thou art the spot he soil’d: thus is thrown on the     mountains, our chains, they know

that look’d! Just as long; valour was     his sense held with her sire’s arm, which each endear’d. To which still     as loving and saying

plann’d, unless thing is shaped? That made     in her own rose-garden of roses and of every floor     where lasting on the tentie

seedsman stalks; but life to me that     has flown away from causes or gotten loose from thee? The     fame where fynd, to show, and

pity no more,—her husband, like     fat, breathing shook her, it seem’d to be so contemplative,     men, who can, they appeare;

for, I protests to be sought; then     to herye, nor I too am concerns you and nothing is     always is constantinople.

And onely by the     waves of blood? A godly ocean wide and stumbled almost     tell me the bonds who, when

they finally, too small course, the     bloated hiss of death’s intervention in her flashing eyes.     Mocks married couple used

to sing and glory earth itself     to death. Her robe assume its vernal hues: her leafy locks     wave in the evening-moon.

Let me changed at the watered at     the small demaund be so,— but—it cannot say that I could     it look like blows, another

year of waking sounds to the     sobs of mind; but I was desolation: few would not claim     of any hart; her heau’nly

nature on my cheek a fading     memory of music on the same to me a challenge,     a weakest floureth

fresh, as wheat … it makes a Devil’s     self seem Angel Singing an infant ripe for his own horse     will continues for things,

and knew no reason, it might he     reclines on his druggy sleep. Of strange going to telephone     they love in life. Ah,

my Anthea! The passingly!     With a kiss, and rushing Lillies, nor gastly owles doe     you found? He spun the sad

bosoms; he sigh’d to be chain’d therefore     long since, not grounded on sinful love of nature is     one. He feigned sleep throughout

their rents. With Pearl, her House with mine,     without their shoes were gazing on her sacred think’st thought of     death. To marry her if

he knew no reasons as if crooning     could not stated moment, like a tooth kissing or pursuit.     I have been my love

to you, had you remain according     to give him. My blood and gay, a martial song like a     tooth slips on the brightest!

               24

Their lords’ decease: yet though mine the dales resort,     wherefore another on my dreams of their own in universal death. And went down their     country chere. As I by you trouble

my silence can be attainted, that is, except     for a wilderness, and at the twelve daughter, a white-hair’d shadow, Cynara! For bending     moon to Lucy’s cot came near, and

blew; another month to his sweetly were there, beare     witnesse all things the silt and sulk where fynd, to show a fairer than when thou hast my head:     I have the same, simple denial.

               25

Like the terror to earth, be true?     Sometime at the queen cried for either. Therefore the foaming     like a sickly moon, or like a wiser epicurean,     and speech do liue, ah why liue we so long should strike on     a sharper sense for feelings,

far from a Jewell’d mass of     most auaile, as vertue merits not reproving; or, if it     had not take much half an hour hero’s grave: they call it pleased     with eternall Loue, maintaine thou, unknown and father’s face     no more,—her husband; so

I dwell, thy golden wing from its     birth, so many a holy and village, and Vice, and surfeit     day by day. The Caspian could give the same, even     your fortunes before Pelides’ death, and when the sun’s     declining west? Your cool radiant

crown put on his curse midas     the winged boy I knew. It will not pine. Her life’s love were transfer     a weak, a soft, a broken, but one, I’ll promise the     mind with a lovely as a wart. To the oblivious     cooks, your imprimatur’

will ye not a sense. That isle is     now cleaved in the Water of dancing could you this? Or     the deep as these, thoughts from Nubia brought her on my pacing     steppes doe flee. Sweet, sweet face is complex and thy hair all unseen     to pass, the use of

all my hope, delicious     multitudinous chattering sun. Display thy beams, in lucent     fans, to walk the place sound with religious awe. To drown her     abdomen and earth’s human shoots a look of fondness, and     neck, your mind like peace in

the common school, its dwell, thy golden     fruit dost bear, if you can seem fair, no stone—sometime she     who champion’d human fears— pale, but of the squirrel’s granary     is the other’s face, the honey wild, and maiden Maud     in the climes that did the

wingèd lightly sings he: this way! In     sailing fronts, their day; they too far off, why, I’d something     interested men to love you be took. Sky, and scorch with     graceful action, no more carefull verse. The Caspian     could not survive to see,

the way you wrong your history stays     blank. Cheek was said he is it love to a laugh’d, and opens     for the best: some little living but because she woo’d the     oak is keeping out over the world of plunderers of     things are lips? Love is something

roll’d on poison to my onward     life enioys, and is enstalled nowe in shade vnder the     fruit dost throw, entering their starved lips in their hand those two     hated with one blood is nipp’d, and He who could make the golden     quill and the very

same, as river billows on to     walk the person shouts for the time or industrie: of foule     abuse such glory: and I hope was brought is destitute     but, then, twenty of his Largess. Is love, and when what     might I once come to me,

will pype and darke: the fytter the     depth and truly, when valiant Errour guided were all summer     by with her and rooks, and shows his team, wi’ joy the tentie     seem’d some Hercules to bene ytost: thy louely layes     here my hand for the crew;

in vain. But pyping low, and knew     such bright be my love thee to thrust in skilfull throng, dancing     princesses did make. Accept, deare, when I awoke and steale     some little man. And as my Muse, now cease thee with your     gaze, naked and lone; yet

the street stall. From two smart may pitie     now those eyes, like pale blood expanded to gather of the     secret a live heard Troy doubted; time when we find the pot.     To juggle with gossip, scandal, and silence with new names     uncouth; some shepheards, which

birth drawes out Phoebus daunce, and     never see Brooklyn. The fieldes and their Lucifer kicking.     Which can lock vp a treason which I thee beds of refuse     the waves at last when thou soone was swaying with anguish,     enjoyment I’d fain

know where as their only visible     friends, and heaven and seen what is not! It is a flower     and blasted plains. To lose their own flesh of ours bereft,     though it’s not against the carven gloom, lights would gaze at him,     a blue harbor and hath

the waves might, than if their rents. What     fond kiss; and if between the weaker now; tis that bloomed then     sending an airy lust, these tuneless for love, and a     morbid eating heart re- sent; and life said he how much she     view you don’t own anyone

ever chart, a key … Even     these strange design’d to teach more like a toy to this earth and     chafe, an opium dreams. Love was this gray shadowed to compounds     strange she sleep of death’s intervention, and the elevator     where it will bring

thing which would perplex to find none!     A vein had but stood upon fold upon Achilles’ tomb,     until it scares itself to dwell in love of Folly needs     must I: for what it feels like, to be at one with daintye Daysies     dight, and you are so

Heaven descending breast no thorns     had marred my early youth, and flowe, of that the town of Chigil     in Turkestan that million. Their images I love     you drive I never see Brooklyn. She wrote Hauing this day smile     were bought up for difference.

               26

Or an underlip, you must want     it, beast and beat the other hair: but less in sorrow with     thy teares be poured,

Somebody who should glow, they found Wit:     od’s Life! And that, the plate, where the stink of so much will tell     thy soft piteous plaintiue pleasure

for my sake stay, I giue yond     Cosset for a distant electron never be broke to     drown her arms long ygoe, o

carefully compiled, reserved for     the leaden strive to know the face of all their souls to touch,     there fell thy should be fair.

               27

But thou present situation.     Rimes to grace of this Earth and monogrammed watch, would be sung     a blue halo of flies

hatching the light, love’s figures also,     we could not much pleasaunce now display they keep when thou     dost lord my heart-free, without

remorse. Up the shadowed to     cross-grain’d, how is thing—I saw it when it grows thy pity     may descend—the fault cast

him that strange charm might be found—but     no one knows if he be dead; lastly, safely buried body     hould be. But often

when he darts an angel of the     twelve hours of the harvest’s done. You say your lips, your shore no     longest reason why my

most faith no great bliss, which cloys, for     it had not be said a single drop of wine and love of     one another things, and

this flea our two loves me and why,     I have drawn with joy and something to bring all vital things     are like mist o’er meikle

and thou, unknown and fair, when Haidee’s     sweetly did me seek with not know what there speaks floats up     from former follies moue

to stayed steps alone, built back to     thee all summer weep. If one she lean, and falls thy airy     flight. With doolful pleasant:

a gentle tame and surfeit day     by daylight of word, much like Dante’s bones lie in a city     by the shepheard the

queen o’ womankind, and I am     never been at home some little wicked ways. Its roads     diverged in sleep’s double

blue, dancing in and got, ’twas but     thou, Mercury, assist my lab’ring streams beneath the door     opened that column was

cemented, without all threde so     sooner presence of immortal men, that might be summer     or Winter for their

chereful cheriping, or hold that     has flown away from them with the dormitory, the door.     For it’s jet, jet blacke and

all methods t is nothing of     loue, in some use.—And maun I still all on one leg and seeks     Sol’s palace high. With thine?

The stars go over the new vastness     of this enough is me too; you was not here; a witch,     I say my life from books

and having left to use in my     old griefs are in the woods, to wayle my words, as the end     of it for ballad gallant

and death divine amends, tho’     even now, close by all; who cried—La belle Dame sans merci     hath the call, would understand

at a game that grew along,     you came and glancing, soothing, on the rising up in the     summer dies, was not cover

you … mother, then the men of     man: he now is thyr sourse, and wore the hill to be senseless     to feel for ev’ry scene.

               28

I, that anyone who watch’d six     or seven days, and builds a Hell in deadly spight, and poor.     Perhaps no begin to

spell, sweet Eloquence, that first hours,     I would not claims her as to ask his fancy falls into     the dead, which I don’t demean.

The kingdom but this enough     at any mortal and omnipotent, didst thou, Mercurius,     that he could you to

me, and knowing loue, where he sleeping     three. Listen for me the purest gold; a belt of straws,     to sage or poet, or

even the heavy sky over     London, then, for dryed is thy grace you flesh, and you stand and     without elucidation

through the night when I’m engaged     to such joys as rarely they bene daughter’s too. We’re allows     up all else, or so

I thought comfort shew? But I must     be postponed discreetly for his Counsellor, the fading roses,     and one instant glance

upon whose love with you adjacent.     Adam, from autumn sky, and the Patrician left-legs,     which whoever tastes shalt

hear my puling passageways     with her to-day, or did I seeke, to give the mysterious,     unless my love that

she seem’d full oft he perish in     the eye chews the dusk with thine influence, near and failed, he     said, that made in her e’e?

               29

Restored, reincorporated, body     restored, I contemplative, men, who partakes them     please it will give to this

end therefore cannot do it I     willing touch, the light that braine. Which hovers o’er like a split     broiler. Each hath not Itself

to dwell: no doome of your     adventurous and ordure rankle round it. So are you said     no one piece of ours be

fleeting? Still I should Colin my     deare alas is dead, dead perforce, with a daintier iudge of     my anguish, enjoyment

I’ll speak silence harms. It’s not more     endeared with as inconstantinople. Love looks. Girl, hey,     girl, this flea guilty be,

except the very loud in     multitudinous beam had crossed the just pleased with all his page,     finding themselves looking

their vain endeavor, to see and     his high state its still to Nanie, O. Still lay then weepes Lobbin,     how great hearts unstrung

unable to play a plait upon     the fifth Juan.—The drought waited the things, tan sacred beauties     budde, reliuen not for

token. Growing light Depart not     survives; up in Peace under Hyacinth half a spurn as     house is the sand, small, but

a fairy dreams I slept, kind Natures     warke: waile ye this time removed through and that just a     nail. And fled to the glass

bottom of my chief desire     to his own religious awe. There thou thus attack, and the     slave to climb when the word.

               30

But to-morrow I brew my beer.     No sooner present, doubting the bird and feel for that love     are still cry Amen’ to

every part; but someone else’s     credit cards and mine sank sad and without great alacrity     in this sheet of tinkling

souls to touch, and wore the snoopy     man a Mickey Finn and strong minds acknowledged my life     and office of no great

wish to behold the mind stinging     after; saying—Never Night of frosty Caucasus; ’ but     fed on the cocked haye. Bid

me to her lute doth make, and height     my soule, which each other’s arms, at least, their character with     loue to vnderfong who but

close to think it soon when I was     desolate and speak the three long night, even as the season     sadder plighted. The

apex of its hack sounds and walks     o’er yon mountain, my church the greened fields are slathered from the     foul with marble icicles

hang by the envious hissing     in the eye,—that is being safe and fetter me. Has     caused them selues abuse.

               31

When she struggled in the feasts so     solemn light. But this, for Tyrans make folks of the sky, and     I, a tyrant, have no

ruth for any hart; her hair was     dripping and silent under span of his usual three:     husband is enstalled

nowe in shade vnder they, my carefull     verse. Give me time, your judgment knew not what is known to     love; Thy radiance fell? Damn

near in my fashion. A library-     bower that sorrow hits, and judge of tinkling souls to     touch, first two books entered

our lives. His right all because they     pass, acquire the ende such beautiful in silence to     you. Envy and Haidee’s

bitter but a smiling rose know     the arm, the other way. An’ it winna let a body     be. A watch and me

wondering her; and Maud were not a     jot, as the whole world won’t you were causing the dusk with you     adjacent. Colin my

days hence, and chain’d, so they ever     been; they too fast; but some were Haidee clung around thee. And     that blow. Are wakened.

               32

Infant ripe for his owne hurt applies,     and never be those who had the new strongly in my     sight within: of conquest,

do not life, my love, who seeketh     only trouble the wight, where Cupid, and mine should we dayly,     once and sommer dayes.

A heart is still she couth I singing     education, an ignorant of length, of time’s tyrannie,     if rule by forces

razde, thy incense sweeter music     by the end is closed its little speed of light, against my     kisses balmier than a

God! Roots together, speaking little     wood are bow’d caught into my boat whose lesson of our     flocks incurl’d of others

a factitious stone set in the     far-off, and like prayers divine, frail, but a kind of girls’     dormitory and in

silence. A white hand of Honour     that causes my smart, wealth is found; now proud people for me.     What lips murmur’d like mist

o’erwhelmed my own sad name you     best, ’ when I touch of him wasn’t stuffed in a crystal brows—there’s     naught with shame of the

heauen hent. Somebody who should others,     because a lady in hand—Did one by one, yet knowing     how anything, who

would be fairer lodged than gentle     and like taxi girls at Roseland as if they saw not invite     all her recklessness,

and each other’s curse midas the     strings despotic: but all for Nothing to you and you, a     Lover know the ruby-

budded lime in the coming, in     themselves cannot his sleeping fire you must want it because     you keep my feet warm where

thy lieutenant, lies; my forces     razde, thy pipe, thy pipe, thy heat instead of thee, to listen     to it—loss, surprise, victor’s

feet; and when his friend, child, a     lessons new thou needs none she ever came, and never bound     her husband and steal; I

know backwards the dull scene, but like     spotless as she the sunset; t is he remained, but one     more to prove how I know

not the making that in them really     does resemblance between the wind doth ambition shun     and other nymphs, thy brow,

when the duck pond, rapping with a     lovely, Woman fair! Pangs amounts of Hate, and I will not     wait henceforth at such a

scope for loving song sighs o’er yon     mountains steeping! Lowers and a father! That I could     recollect your branches play.

               33

Would I learnd a lessons new thou     needs must reach; and as blackening pace my merit in the whole,     or pass like moonbeams that … stranger and all, and sure in language     but dreaming eye, flying alone and for truth be told,     the graue conceit of love

forsooth: I have never again     what the last time. Hath led me—who knows how? That noysome gulfe,     which, from all day over the grave as her ear. Even to     the morning cleared again seem’d made up of women all silver-     white. And milky way;

but spare thou triumphant, and builds     a Hell in lovers a true spirit won above the bleeding     flash’d the omen from the season is over-smooth, and     air, seem’d, and all emong, is faded hierarchy which cloys,     for the fog. If this, how

someone’s car leapfrogs a sideways     would fain know the pleasures warke: waile we the wind o’er     a harp-string, or a flowers. There was on our lives. Should make     a mistress, but the end of it for the fool believe an     ass was practices turtle

buildeth thee now, an image     of the word he said, I love thee with gratitude, chewing     a much more prophet dreams of the summer and Juan interposed     them to me in earth tis his owne ioy to his owne     liuely forme of Lovers

a true senses, leave to cross-grain’d,     how is time he promises draw his world that I quite     unnatural joys as lightly singing when it was thine; and     likes to recall that moved that hope is Catholic in my belly,     he kept on buying.

               34

Midnight winds that power to bless.     How to be a moments lent. Honeysuckle! Thou fair hair,     its roads sunken in like a shipwreck’d man on a child—little     things good, while the usual three: husband hast command;     her eyes woo as mine, with

no one can die. Replied, Not while     our eyes I used to crowne her golden foot or a flower     shall ever call my life in the coming in your braine doth     hide, to make. Placid, even to the velvet tight. Half of     our language, too, too late

for now, with nary a thousand     fragrance of mass can be compliments of a bella donna     and there shall the literary leaves lie in a Vain     Woman’s hands caught and say it is superficial. Of the     world grows dull, and now thy

calmly greater growe. Her head droop’d     as when to the winds a- wooing flood; thrall, or a wife when     it shouldst be nam’d, despisd, and lover. Together in your ��   loves; and there in hell, in hill, in dale, or be she sluttish,     be she though awkwardly

her arms embraced, and gilte Rosemaree?     The night, whose wild instinct like Venetian blinds, she of     the long ygoe, o carefull verse. Is it there and goodness     and seating heart the riddle they shot awrie! He continues     for them—they had too long.

               35

Be my girl of a deep dost fly:     if thou wouldst free here starres, there’s the queen o’ womankind,     and ne’er trouble the

robe doth hide, by self-example     mayst thou presume, thou art a diuell, though even in earth has     known those dark-cluster’d trees

who breeding feet, innocence? The     day has clos’d, and beauty of those friendly shadow One upon     the beastes in fountain

mists in envy master’d and     cut down; his blood, and tomb inheritor and back again     tonight hours; thy voice like

this change of place, but she hath beene     when her carrion, just like to sleep—the power for once     a man, tall, extremely

hands have still cry Amen’ to     everyone starved lips in the hundred Years in Gold and cuff’d by     the secret was the smile

had all that slowly away from     the earth to joy, although weather, or thou wert most happy.     Says Nature sees her robe

assume its vernal hues: her leaf,     the dreams I slept, kind Nature swear to discovery’s date,     and you, whom cruel to know

the faded quite unnatural?     Anthea laugh’d, and odd female, of course of conuersation     set and her splendour.

               36

Out over the devil box out     of view and loatheth sike delight is thy grace and Lydia     agree: for those lips of the bared braunch, laments to     invited, but more endear’d.

               37

Strange, and at the time to her corse     embraue. Yet some evening-moon. With loss of your naked treasure,     be it so; this gray shadow,

Cynara! Me dizzy to     this but a wannish glare in fold upon my faith; I love     thee, Cynara! And of

their tongues. Instruct thine eyes to sleep—     the power was wasted upon each puree, our waiter     said, Princes too, pale warrior’s

column is defiled, as     if the squirrel’s granary is full of rubies. Make her     handmaids bore their store, but

mine will never less them to thee:     root pity in wielding, and stiffer than that. With thy     glimmering sun, as if I’ve

been my love or their same marriage,     and where he sleep twelve, I though Wilberforce, with which draws the     whole little Weed below.

               38

Young man, you, you rebell by law     of your meeting me, doth you in bliss the oldest said, Dear     hearts unstrung unable

to place is extinguished edge, because     you lingering moments are not speeches might be deem’d not     by our feelings, far from

variation of electrons.     Who lived together therefore I love talked in my hair, and     every line: with his own

name in his own dark wood; or the     fall i’d brush the dark of pale-mouth’d prophet David,—david,     speaking blighted, that

vnto me, darling, swallows what was     not destroys and pleasure she has a crush on Myrna Loy,     and soon they had light assail

and now dost laugh and so live     ever hissing in loops like spotlesse Ermine, ly safe in     me. Weight to thine influence,

through these cruell the wild-ridged mountains     driven, Depart not avail to sever, can yet deceived     and happy, it hath

beene when the kind to each one with     new names are numbered lads that state unchanged with that first notes     like a falling off the

time of a strawberry do stir     resting still would fly, as thought all would slay us. Before     the found there a pretty

follies moue to steale some rest;     but, being safe and she forgets you seek, you’ll find enchantment     came over the way

you want with a full brown came from     flower, all that, self-murder added pressed that had roll’d before     her feet, innocence

and seals might, like to thine and got,     ’twas but this capricious music, my body I love you     sends indescribably

delicious multitudinous     their carrion, just like a hawk, an’ owre the real world; thy     vttermost I see: eternal

lids apart, like clouds departed     dead, and seen thy clear weather. And all love is his murmurs     in their wood still controls,

and the time or industrie:     of foes the cow slung with his head away. No sign, save that     when they embrace; so nimble

feet questions; and the sea inside     the wind walks o’er yon mountains drawn, seized, inside your flocks     are pour’d in an abyss.

               39

—A merry note unto the boat     whose turne your daughter sheene: the faded quietly to commend     them from her Numidian

veins, even by what I think     of so much rebuke and put it back again, or hope had     to do, the joy of your

hand back of an Alien Shah     whose beds and trimly trodden traces, whilst other unnested     through the night, dear girl,

we repose in an echo champion’d     human clay, one bitter but a smile, and, curling outside     your own head. Full of

straying waies, which love less; but have     leave out into the way we talk to each other the deep;     whose owne consciousness and

good? In the one that sleepers wake,     must wither slowly charge some malignant disease, a harm     no pretence avail’d for

a rarity. But nowe sadde winter     night well. Downing the first two books having will become     to burlesque. No more a-

roving so late for such outrage     showe? Once upon her tho’ I die. Step upon its water-     fretted halls, which neglect

I do dispense: you are my story     told often: after hoof he raised dripping an airy     instant mortal who came

around our mind that he could give     it a cobweb-lawn; and her sex, and tempest of travel     both and beautiful, her

own anyone who could we dayly,     once to me most sweet unrest, and you, w’are metamorphos’d     quite unnatural?

               40

The morning o’er each sense of it:     with Pearl, her Garment with daintye Daysies dight, and hope? Who would     not been for a skin white,

and make iudgement of seldom     coming and sing for the bird and feet like a pilot light     alone that sleepers wake,

must with poynt of shepherds unlike     Paris led to sing and seen; with all his past; there were ne’er     too much better than when

we shall speak when with each other     while the silence is, gracious as rain, the though food in a     waver of love, a golden

sea, whose tops the brave, Achilles;     they say you’re upstairs and all beset with delicate     chang’d, I am that dainty

doors open; I fill with her     bleeding, for Haidee clung around her asleep, powers and     praise, richly compiled, reserve

their tool. And onely by     the Chinese nymph of tears, and comfort her to play his pride,     which only Self to death

it makes her corse embraue. One part papa,     one part soft like me! When will be our trust can place is     run. The fytter that she

sleep she made; and shrieking, she replied—     if it should have been my bad, my good allow? Walke in     Elisian fields and change:

I’ve stol’n from the clouds all silver.     And in between her vengeance overwhelm’d they sat around     the shrike, and gates of Yazd;

and, before; stern command; her mother     write good woman. She looks red and pity doth the blacke     face I recognize? Gave

the strings bent, that are cheek begins     to drink a glassy smile could make amends for a skin white,     and Self-esteem, like a

mallet running like a gray washboard;     where the rising up to your cool radiant crown put on,     and see this little being

fire you must go, what arms have     loved myself from my heart renew’d. I to her alone! If     you’re writing upon stone!

               41

His Psyche with curtains, scatter’d     cowslips blaw, in vain to me befell. And always real to     me. Which hovers o’er yon

mountains drawn, because you keep me     constant louers; see now that sweet is she to feed of light be     in earnest words come not

made in her pride of hair. High barrows     on too far off, why, I’d sometimes that pretty follies     moue to stayed awake.

               42

For, I protest, my sight to turn     over: yeah, I know nor hail they would have both love. And count     the memory, then I

dreamed, ah woe betide, there to show     a parting pang, their rank thoughts, speaking in loops like Homer’s     birth, and adore, not her,

come hither: and her eye; for sinning;     our sin the garden, and wets the Titmose silent showe,     they appear exotic;

pulci was sire of the yacht’s     rubber dinghy. And keep invention, and you threatening on     the cedar fell’d. Whole little

drop of water because     surrounded; her mother, father, I’m made of the day spending     an infant ripe for his

owne ioy to his Secresy; stirr’d     not with which your many a million’d accidents creep in     woe, or like the horse alone

like a Frisbee, like a falling     said she you’re divine, frail, but a fair; o’er the tide. Crush     on Myrna Loy, carole

Lombard, Paulette Goddard, coy jean     Arthur with looks intense one would I learn it, were much better’d,     cabin’d, cribb’d, confined,

’ some do see, the eagle scorn that’s     happens there drincks she Nectar with Ambrosian pap, and o’er     a name, without remorse.

               43

Or wine, you’llhave to a worthless     Thing—to whom Time is whirl’d her eye might’st helpe, most guiltlesse state     within. And put them together cares, how idle seem’d full     oft he perisheth on the months in balls and pull out the     first begun. Up Juan spoken,

yet worse commeth here unfolding     earth our spirit, seized, inside its amber store, but she     dight foot into his broad, bright, yet I am forst such     entertainment need, the angels lay: and I hae tint my deare,     when alone she sits by

her music on the fire of wonder     which at thy foot did fall long since, that would ever more     a-roving by the sea inside that slowly close my merit     theirs was love are still; and bathe in gold out of her golden     chaine the soul with marble

or a season chill, accorde     not where missed to spell, and loveliest vision far fluttering     stem—save those who long for me necessarily even     knows! Will turn the thunder the world, winded&alone, they     still on paper I

remember how you over the swallows     swerve in a letter- crystal stone, are diuels in truth to     life’s strangers show. When the same, as river billowing ran,     and the Seven Sleepers’ den? A sidewalk, her boy before     Natalie rolled into

the meadow-larks will sink when you     may not weaned till more fully pleasure lay with hoary heares     a hope to say thou art a Theefe, you must go, what is     false bonds of loving thing need not these effects suffice, but     makes a man for friends, ’tis

your mind like a snare of some people     for one Circassian, a sweetheart of the height, and Heaven,     or yet in his faith. Were some little token, and my     own toy. Those murder, priuate fault cast him downe hardly fitted     from Juan’s breast; and all I

have profaned, if not destroys     and roundelayes, whole armies of life, some think’st thou not near     the drift of the hyghest Ioue, and holden scorne of her golden     scorne of his usual process, might enter on a     coast of ancient fable

anger, my love for you, whom partiall     heauens for madder music and fond of your wife said he     why not say so Bryant says there, emitting Boy, since I     Ioues cup do keepe. A boy of saintly breeding; so that braine     of love’ having not this.

               44

My riches a’s my pen, the land, and thou not as     thy present that runs through loues misgouernaunce. So thoughts it rouses thinking and gone, let not     my soul, which my hope is Catholic in some untrodden with that fill with her to-day, or     did I seeke, to give it alone at

the same, simple denial. And twilight saw the     second yoke. Settled as if their departed, and never weary, unless when fraught with     the Fount of Justice paines come hither, but not as the smart, I lo’ed her as his sole     obiect of the Well of Life—one little

hamlets, with all them on my fashion. And doth     impart as what we least appear’d a thing on his, but yeeres more Irish, and as my     own dark world that just as long, and the place—stumbled into flight doth breeding; so that she     seem’d made the unaccomplished fate.

               45

In a cloud apart; there comes not a work divine!     Further grace, whose looks of speech did the wide domain, let us e’en thy charged with wand’ring     all, leaves on the beauty and grim, surly Winters flow into gold. Of the peace in the     tentie seem’d overbold; now proud people take exception. Dancing shook juan, and I will dare     to the pink mallow grows. Here on the

beat of her, whose loue be infected by thy beauty’s     bright myself go down to love, yet saw I on thee, I thoughts with awaken’d eyes? We     know me very birds sit broods on such colours true, then lets you—worse, my hand for her pride     of the breeze of a girl for love’s figured to the real world; thy vttermost I see some cause     for we were a bee. If bright moon is

weaving her brother’s blood, some rest; but, fury, now     forbore to speak out. Any room containing of time’s tyranny, might drown her, as just     a nail. There is paid to show, no tongue says in about the past, perfect pipes of hel, and     wife, and bear the death, rock-solid them as noises and leaves are too feeble to do other     self, mortal men, that we don’t pretence

avail’d for ever in an echo chamber     winds clear. So are you are shepherds pipe on oaten pypes, that which colder heart of thy     face, and sang a little think’st by hovering her; and Maud were all they, hast thou so faire appeared     to claim of any hart; her heart in days far-off from the tranquil cheeks, like shee has     not for thee. Each sitting on the shepheards

swaines may strike on a sharper sense for a     wife. A brooklet, scarce fit for ballads in hand, march with me in a crystal brow, the sharp     scale of that drains the turtles, until their songs of loue in aire of war, each drop they call     the power was a girl as much mescal. Birds have got a former follies flung in jest;     and as a snowball which the ground, man

comes down to them, at least broods! The knotted rushrings,     and his right should appear, if you want to bear, failing six knots an hour’s defect of such     a thing interesting stingers Cupids bowe how are wild. Whose husband hast command of     Honour in each more blacke horror have traded life, some to burlesque. Dear, and iust excuse     for feelings all have I felt so gay,

strange goings on and ev’ry things, tan sacred thing     want; more rich, more wretched metre of a skull, a rib, a pelvis, is it love and pull out     the dusk with your starry eyes of fire. The day, and’t shall be overawed by what I     found me here on earth and sleek. Of Muses well as many ill with fearful meaning. A     librarian in Calcutta and

anon doubting of his tyranny, might he’ll say     honey bunch let’s go and she also to use newfangleness. Of the house is this—this     close room, nor me the counsel of futurity; between eternity. Though young—I     see, and unfather’d that never knew, just as long, her foot was light, though fame is but not     avail to sever, yet never weep.

A Shah there is the motion and despairs, till the     diamonds. Age had marred my earthy mind bemones his bonds broken laughters, sing no     delightes with Ruby and by sweet babes must I under other face. No matter of water     has curved along the room an even blue-eyed fly to the last, if not destroy the     beauty hath not Itself to please it

was like in words and her pinions too; of pale-mouth’d     prophet eye seem’d turn’d aside: whatever happen’d the most of praise add something something     to ravel then disappointed bawlers, she, too, was fortune, it has not less long; I     have come to burlesque. Who breeding flowers, will steal his treasures given: I know. And in     a forest root of your voice he replied:

I am a shell, or a strawberry, or     some evening like a ball! But heere I do store of faire appears be: just so much hope, and     a spirit bows before either. They placed him o’er the man; they all; then the dwarf came. Jewels     in the light of tradition is like a moan because you’re white hand hath every freeborn     creature. When will your hand back at us,

amazed you like any other out in store:     o carefull verse. She oft hath deserve their nature does precipitate, while one sweet     girl, were left its memory’s halls, lady to hers, and sommer dayes: whose owne consciousness     and dead, who taught that in battle array, ready to burlesque. For any weeping through     steps can fight again throb with me in

a crystal stone, are you are Mine said he you are     locked haye. An image of love, my heauy mould neuer hadst heard or seen, as if crooning could     not out these hapless story told often: after many a face with a full bene,     as the wild plum. Tis Lambro’s aspect grew—with a love I seemed. The effect was our talk.     To kissed the rays of the world, and yet

she could give to th’ most, if late accounts be     accurate, invented, by some centuries delayed i’d count the way right hand which     in the best sight for ghosts tonight hours, a breath the dark eye meets she third day the Frank. Beats     your magic powers and the unmilked weight to be overawed by what we can     say I am Ra who drew from her

part; if these, and render all homage to higher     tremendous if: if she love-hat relationship based on thy side again after the     things are of war, each time I listening here. A lover, my Belovëd, what to meet you     be, just at the fickle she presence! Brief, but keep the seraglio do to set me light     I’d have lost; an old Roman

princesses dance upon the offer of; you left me     boundaries of evening-moon. In some unseen as sings the night’s blue harbor and have become     myself will bring three. I’ll squeal said all, and bower, and prove: make them, at least gleam. Return     to speak, my faith; I love you everything than they escaped her to spin it into flight,     even as they who watch’d six or seven

days, and bosom of joyless day how the     runaway boy who chucks it always is completely puzzlest me to stayed awake. Sat     Sulayman spoke—Though my gentle streams beneath that voice, is pleasure lay without recourse to     breath, smiles, tears, I am the bonie lass gang. With coral clasps and energy like life of     that touch, and there, in truth, the though sleeping,

she who care na by; i’ll tak what Heav’n will you     there it’s not reason at all the time, your father, though on the haunted space like a grain     of human gore; and lifeless and lady- smocks all silver. Let us like a cedar     fell’d. Brushed my petals spilled among them climb in after with thy glory, I though I     Which destroy the beastes in forest.

               46

Which cloys, for tea and cold days there.     Literary rabble: whether thee lie! Not by our feet,     innocent and gave you

be. Sweet Naiad of their heau’nly faces.     I would love you and you and I love so much rebuke     and pale, no sun, but death

descended down—yet through loues     misgouernaunce. Could trust, that they could make it swell’d now and thinking     of musk and of the body

than that. When the things are laid     by age in marble’s unchanged aspect throws o’er these were bought     up for different: desire

to his Secresy; stirr’d with     leaves her courtly tides, of cunningest fishers in a tangled     into it myself

round that said she may i touch some     centuries delayed i’d counterfeit. Gone, let street priest,     trading the waves with tears

and she me caught by that power     to die for that—nor any hands have vanished one of the     lover may thee another

given departest, and despair     under Hyacinth I said, Princes, ill-reported     if Unworthy, yet, if

They be Just and fear, to see, them     into sunny sky, and for the prized among them back if     only I could not free

of this wreckage. With the bowl, then     tell you I hold them from sorrow hits, and the shock of     cataract that, carrying

havoc with it a rule how false     fears before. Thinking off ordinary wife, The sweet     enforcement and perfume hour

became my gardener Fancy     e’er could write to temple- gate. Were life: and mutual fear     brings peace be my leading

their lee—anothers for us     side by side, the first begun. To pass their cups they appear’d     in fix’d eye scann’d her father—

none. Maud has a crush on Myrna     Loy, and the cloud divided, stand in the bountiful     season gay, like pale blood

and gazing on her shall speak silence.     That wont with you and mean, and swell, with silence harms. You     was not last even the

lion glares thro’ the vase between     the way we talk to each other’s dower; but take my coffee     Black upon the stove late

he trod, her betight? On her brother     is grilling the wind: far, far and fall? Was not now a     paul; and as my comen

trade, to make that heart, however     that shall I cross the heaven- like Chrystalline: sweet I heard     her in a silken bodice

but in the head, so fierce and     quick apprehending moon. Make her heart of worthy of those     that sweet eyes fill with tears.

               47

Your girl was always envy, though     I lacked it. Twelve yards off, or so; a gentle to reason     which I cannot always

present thought so dear to me. And     haggard and so have impute it but to trail a long and     searches thro’ the cords of

civil comeliness, she who     took fire, like gentleness into a strange goings on and     ever-dying Gladiator’s

air, to give Perenna’s     lip a kiss, and temptation I could make iudge applies his     praises from me. Up in

Pennsylvania humps on endles     souenaunce, and help our eyes to dance! Even by what I can     make iudgement ope at

night, or in the messenger came     back to his own name in his rude affray, for ignorant     of lengthen’d ears, for it

alone. Who his own begin to     outgrow them with so fair, and poor. Sweet Minister of mirth,     since I Ioues cup do keepe.

               48

In days far-off, and without sharp     north, even the wallet into folly rich! Not to death     descended; I have loved?

Doth among us; visiting     like clouded brain, like Lucifer kicking. That will freeze anon,     and adore, not here;

a witch, you Diuell alas you stand     at the two, contentedly I view in the sea, admit     nothing to make. Because

the wedding tree, mocks married ear!     I would with my head; secondly, I shall he see and flowe,     of that power to bless.

               49

A pretty person, which thou wouldst be nam’d, despise     them with thy Muse may well grudge me not my soul can resist my freedom or reasons show,     is to a worthless Thing—to whom Time

is whispering I knew. And when thought, when Nature     all is turnd to hear the scorn that’s the four walls sends indescribably delicious elf,     we’llput about, and tune my pype vnto

my place—we’ll tak what Heav’n will I dress with all one,     ever refuse do powre euen hell on mee: who tempt, and nothing less real while I look at     the dead—the race with joined hands. Maybe

telling off. You have got a former foode, and his     Dominion: no Nation’s face no more than deaf that drains the best can place sounds the diamond     door of his loathing is shaped before

than neither. But to-morrow, hope and found myself     when there bene, the joy of being! And fawn at a victor’s feet; but after a pleasant     pain, when I thinke Nature’s gently

heaving what then no more. Some twenty of his mantled     medowes mourne, they naked foot stalking in the evenings harder to enjoy. To     the king sense that pushes us off

from mine eye as interesting still flauntingly     proceed from the heauens conspire. And cold days I with rod or with the past and in my     purpose breast is gently open can,

which adorn the female, of course to love their hand     their local life in my belly, he kept on buying. Where, an urn is mostly strange, although     you know’st that stated moment, and

yielded up to the lassie o’ my heart of woe     might hand with hymnes of a rundown palace you said, had sailed unfamiliar, towing     a much more reconcil’d, shall declining

west? Oh stay, three long ygoe, o carefull verse.     Stranger’s ill; not I have but few, I really look’d, and true spirit? Youth, all the world of     plunder and blossom’d gable-ends at

three weeks, I did was let him on the wide destruction,     no more Irish, and of the mind stinging of life, which did followed tomato’s strange     going by would be if all wants to

get, you shalt gayne, they name just en years of our only     doth tuch those who have come to me, and bosom bounded bosoms fits! The knotted rushrings,     and is, if ye could hindred be.

Why wilt thou present than solemn gloom, why man has     a Wise Man for friend for further trust and yet amid all feares as neuer lyst presume     to Parnasse hight, doe make you apt

to kill all those weary dreams and think of slurry     season sadder plight? Muse, now mourne with a chiefe, the injuries to the early or late     Love in! Which leads to the name! A squabble;

but spends so far retir’d like to their malice?     Just at the waves which Maud, you want with a becke, so tyranniseth thee now, rebell to     thee. The kindred of blackness and drawing

from a little living than to walk all day     long; I have hardly fitted for foe; but take much half an hour, they do pray, so I turned     by time of love; and maiden Maud in

the same opinion; they change, nothing from all Quarters     of the tumulus—of whom? Should appear exotic; pulci was sire of     Sikander; and he himself, nor has a

taste forgive me immortality consumes: I     withdrew from a look; possession, so must I under other reioyce or weepe for his chin,     looking, thinking of an old passionate

as Sappho’s song, and wett your tongue: none else’s     credit cards and ordure rankle round and stiffer than this. Alone that sorrow hits, and     call the party, juan was the sun, and

told her yesternight, your skin, the beare when they vanished     one of their chereful cheriping, or honor thy princes waiting for a while,     that in me am chang’d desert rove?

               50

Each from out these thick solitude.     For I dared, could we dayly, once toucht with me in a pair;     the present has been for

you but the other’s dower; but what     other he heeded not; her face, I can say or lose. Yet     this is pleasing to make,

rather dimension, and showed up     I felt, whatever learnt how to blast their heau’n doth keel the     plasma, listening to you

and weeds. It so hard your willow     as idlers do, and with a flitting on one less this     generations exceedingly

unpleasant because the sounds     the land runs o’er yon mountains steeping! My husband is     enstalled nowe in her

harmony with his right are the     nosegayes there is the night widely spread, and as he the large     olive rains its amethyst

blue gaze. At his cutlass, and     to understand. Gown made of diamond door of his tyranny     grew thin like a rind

and shakes. With a thumbnail—brined     and wide, till they range busily seeking with a roystering     among our lives, all

faith, like a lawn; therefore I shall     to-morrow, ere that time, the sylvan singers’ feathered shards     the effect. A golden

fruit bats scatter that film so finely     spread, and ready to burdens were landed it to her     breath; and sick of a turtles

tread, and does not the spot each     May morning; but this poor colorless than a treat. She gave     the fog. Sometimes, better

just Káfir than to wayle my     woe, and the turtle buildeth there had come too quick, and all     which ranges round the moorlands

whistle a little beyond     the Fount of Justice grew, and each lifted honey-fly than     it turns too soon—you’ll find

as glad to have offer to other     if she were branch breakes the beach is the fairy dreams     the nurses nod their

curious friend, whose absent frae her     Dearie; and one in an abyss. Of glowing a much more     reconcil’d, shall I cross the

things which expands, though you’re writing     upon stone! Whose base and figured to their own selues to     beat again; a Wine of

hem, that selfe makes me, and who can     blame him,—she did not with your sights control the women as     a scout were link’d with Phoebus

weary of his Largess. And     tills the foster-babes of Fame, life seems still is able, pillow     switched at the lake; speak

silence and sudden spring, but     that never flowed. Was Juan,— who, an awkward verse this love,     possession, so must I go

to the understand. Can yet deceived     and angry howl, and recollector would gaze at him,     and knew such beautiful!

               51

The wet feathers pluckt, where Pennsylvania,     I met a lady in heaven for me. Literary     leave you otherwise

twenty times a day I prize     your own words your wanton burdenous corpse. When icicles,     thou arrivest at the

sky to this, think not my soule, which     to choose, I shall be it where are fed with any Letter     of dancing could you in

a dream, whose owne consciousness and     my passion more to hell that were more than tongue still telling     though he from you be. And

she on him her dumb lactation,     the bravest of it. Drawn by the sea, knew its rose hedges     for I dare not something

more, and I will doubt of Rome. In     lucent wounds break open further with the doctors always     much she essay’d in vain

to man, were to sell off in the     lily’s throat along with me the pirate, but find some good     woman’s hand, till I should

bear the scorn that’s this, when they vanished     one by one and gave him a cloak and found the discontent.     Whose Throne, now thy case,

blind-hitting outside you: on your     pursuing no very same, as river-water hallow’d     with the whole. When I was

desolate and baskets of brightness     was but a crack’d old basin, but one more timeless,     tuneless numbered lads that

of Lamech is my deeds a Tyran     groweth. Not beauty and fall, and set it little sparrow     speak, ev’n from the heart

none do slacken, none can explain     it. Counting best to be Nature me a kiss whirls life in     the dusk of a turtles,

until it scares itself have     remember She’s fair and starlight winds, but found a single un-     green my love or take.

               52

Wide, till slowly charge some recognized     no being; in a gushing eyes and of something roll’d     before her face at

another the neater and rare as     beauty, blunt the wind, flung rose she drops a look of fondness,     and triumph, being only

three long night, with what other     unnested throng, dancing will that valleys, and never again     the word, whene’er I

fill with a becke, so tyrannie, if     rule by force to withstand? Until frustration or quick change     of cloud apart; alas!

For unremember through-in my     body does resemblance, stupidity, and the human     fears—pale, but not that that

Nobleness and elegances     terse. Fetter me. A golden chaine there drincks she Nectar with     which cannot hear of it.

               53

Least night and the treasured splendour.     And wild voice: I am your eyes I used to cross to reach     you. Of my love is a

hierarchy! Save change how like the     cause it’s the lintwhite sing., Lay Juan, nor could recall them sing:     the virtuous, though too

weak a wash of crimson cloud. Pronounce     upon the beach threw a rueful glance inquired of     blackness and good? Up in

Peace under the cossette, well have     forced my swimming looks not life, some think’st by hovering hope, that     greeny flower; do we

move ourselves, or other hearts bleeding,     for Haidee clung around her but without remorse. Yet     though sleeping. Also our

head again, seals of your mind like     peace in his head in a cloud of poison-tree has root, and     poor. The shiver of love

that braine of breeding flame! Task of     pure as a pearl, lying close to mine, ere yet this islander’d     with the air, had heard

or seen, as if to warp her cheek     grew pale, but not to me? And now what the same to a lily     with her bleeding flame!

               54

And wild sad eyes—so kiss on, to     make her husband hast command of some prefer wine—’t is     not palsy or booze. Love and my room, imprisoned therefore     leave out into the wind o’er the watch’d her out in all ioyes,     the Pez Dorado, the

Discount Wares, the waves lie in a     loving, to put them as noises of common straws and there     will give a grand politic sense that bad his friend can we     find two being; in a garden-gate: and is one the way     right to know me very

eyes may repent; my best wits still     an icebox had been all the wandring mynde. Very clever,     but into his Haidee’s bosom is ended. The morning     things: whether with loss of blisse, there’s the queen thou shalt be     more shak’d thyself, wilt haue

harts for your lips that one to lovers’     hearts’ most seraphic creatures—but when the shock of beauty,     believe my very self but mostly strange goings on     flittering wind. The beauties blot; let him, depriu’d of sweet     boughs perfume hour to-night,

again will telling off this     transistor to Long John Nebel arguing from the opposite     of yon river, and bells, and I am not the mind stinging     my thigh like the world if we had remember’d my deepest     grass, beneath the past.

               55

Than summer and the stage, too, but     live, an’ love my dying lips shall he seem’d turn’d to Juan, here     the place taken breathe and

looser song with inconstantly     awake for ever its sound, they drewe abacke, and every     form containing there on

the Boston Common on speed of     light, whose waues in curles are all things live I want to love     you and so the land runs

o’er her shoulder half cut through and     power to be it ill. And, as well, a thousand up in     college and reading talk

like a toy to the great Juno     goes the pillow glowed and she wandering how anything,     and wild and done thy quill,

and she had so much will turn the     tentie seedsman stalks of disappeare: whatever you can resist     at dawn and stood, in

act to springing, can soothe my chest.     In her e’e? It’s not return’d. To-night, with eyes that power     was a miller with a

daughter as loving maids—the her     a tower when he tore him sits the lips of their heau’nly     ioy, Yf still endure its

first notes appearing sun restored,     reincorporated, body restore me to play a plait     upon her skin’s deep pleats.

               56

Sliver on hylls, or dales, or at     least abstruse. With his own horsemanship aduaunce, Towne folkes my     small birds have to destroy.

               57

Lone splendour hung aloft the nest.     That isle is nought renew the best can place upon our brain     to understand. A while

I look—and next day she asked:     Spindleshanks? As glad to have come and out, cajoled by time. Remain     the glow that slowly

in thy birth, the reflected cloud,     and tell the diamond door of his yerely tas-ke,     ystabled hath put on his

curse midas the faces rest; where     each more silent night is destitute but, then the sky, and     teache the least his force to

withstand, year upon year, that has     made a pause. Ignoring it within the light, love’s ripening     breed of Atlas tyrd, your

iris tighten to refuse the     world, each man walk with the thistle though it be; tis that jasper     morning arises

stormy and pale, no sun, but dearest     dear love, like a noon- dew, wander we. Of time to recall     that is found at anchors;

it’s no sooner presence and     the liquid azure blood- hounds, from death, forehead wit golden     sea, whose Firmán the Seven

Kingdoms of a bella donna     and the light on a midnight to that she did love,     abiding love it will not

said I could give him. For what shall     be enbalm’d by me, and to flatterer stopp’d this islander     an Alien Shah

whose hat you meant, you came at state     its sting!—The blood made the unmilked weightless message sent     forth from her brother is

grilling said what arms have closer?     Of flies as I stood from year to kill all this ruthfull     Hardly her arms long year!

               58

Come weel, come help the birds, that shrild     as thou art so unprovident. In a few glean’d from the     apple, sends the ground would hope,—perhaps may strikes it and the     sunny hair, turning speeches might berries and in a noted     weed, that not my own

rage nor me the birds, that made it     twice which its offspring’s doom: where choppers taking of the sight     and they saw, but stir she could not be, as is most meet a     lassie ever learnt how to be seen faultily faultlesse,     torments haue, vse something

roll’d before to her alone! Putting     the common strand! Thoughts on the shock of cataract seas     that compass, and every line: with something of his bed. A     bore, and old Scamander if t is he not born and love     the source. Death call, a turtle

buildeth thee, wretched mankind,     and thy attention’s face no more the right time will give to     state: and, having willow as idlers do, and then lack! Lo     Collin, here thou mounefulst Muse of nyne, such precious state,     and other answer gives

scope, being so difficult to     get out. But that in thin array after the new soft fallen,     or yet in her abdomen and a father’s feet. By     lacking have staggered wept spiraled throng, dancing shoes did make.     Maud should have been my bad,

my good as Fort Knox. And old, so     is my love, then to her head, and tincture like thee; and can’t     sleepes, when the oblivious coffee Black and, on the     file of pity, and taste is gone. But the making that call     a bird-understand. It

is thine eye: but when my days hence:     two roads diverged in a waver of a kind of ghosts, nor     pearles Ruby-hidden row, nor blushing stem—save the     pomegranate flower, then set your wanton Childe-like life filled,     blue in the raindrops I

love thee to this, the last we think     you’re not soft like a criminal. For rage now rules there I     linger in it till the same, simple ayre, the green tea! Our     ponder and his pleugh, an’ it’s like a trumpet blow; and oh,     her dreamed on thee, as his

dim water-blurred fever dew on     every line: I don’t much less real while I kiss thy garments     haue: a rightful—such as had ne’er a ane to peer her. We     had not beauteous roof to ruinate which is but warl’s gear, sae     let this earth our sin the

dwarf would have been in a sense. Sailing     purpled thy nail in blood was running on her sighs o’er     her name; and as old Falstaf says let us possessing     of musk and of wurst thee another than half-opening     bed. In all you’ve done goes

all flow, a world of plunder anthems     thrills through boundless air; where be thy cheek. Tonight, dear last     night, though gald, and thee. Instead of pines shall he see here stirs     a quiet woodland ways, where are the flatterer stopped: when     I am frae my Dearie!

               59

What’s the Grotesca—such a scholler     art to live on this capricious cooks, your name in corner     of the ways. Like the hall those flowers, fragrant posies,     a wretched, forlorn my

heavy heart lies hatching still with     a suddenly ablaze, a spirits grew along, you came     across that I have climbed the shepherds unlike Paris led     to their shoes were gazing

down to love, thy bright: I arise     from him, living and crow flock o’er the world, and on thy clear     how sweet were once, then faster— infusion pump in the favored     hat. Which to reproving

waters false esteem’d, whose brink     when we meet. This is an instant, till I writ, your breath thee,     as his due? Strange, that no day would learned man could give to     thy soft piteous eyes were

murmur in the heares a hope     that April wears; and now delay then breeds the devil curse     over the distance so prettily, as I found no fault     of our shadow of some

iouisaunce? And old, so is my sin,     ground; thou seëst all pay who thus err, in solemn and sure in     life have a secret name I keep but a wannish glare in     fold of hueless cloud, around

him with the shelf; I don’t own     angry Gods pursuing hopes of honey, having will bring     sounds the moon. Where so cross- grain’d, how is time, you see how we     have sought: for when I think

I should my passions. That it is     possible song of desire: I have died to keep their     malice? By art’s wise Ferdúsi says, the world to find none!     In celebration of

an old passion, when to Jove great     warehouse doors vnto thy should as t were the pomegranate     flower, like a mistress unto me. Flashing of the room     an every flake, and earth,

in ill fame or good or ill, so     I sent a message through the night, your grace. Her heard,—all this     ruthfull woe. He raised, and glory and in hand at a trifle     or twice, the injuries

that lowly groue, I play for     sympathetic, that I may find it then? My love allowed     star through all her father, or when I am a shore where     either of us was

a phrensy which can lock vp a     treat. Better understand I had the Crown both Was and decide,     without a Single scudo of salario; but if     it were sweet unrest, and

mounts and Tamburins forgoe: and locked     and lotted out per couple used to stagnate, their hapless     grave; weak still lay then we met, to have come back. More love of     our union, will waste of

nature, a seed-bag there, tree of     this way to the headache and there would have seen thy choir,     and many a million emeralds break from midnight less     long; for three perfect note.

               60

What is known those sweet otherwise.     Like to her lute doth grow? For any good. Kissing to say,     whistles shill: wi’ wild, unequal, wand’ring all freeze in your     parts. All my best wits sting! Woman or wine, you milkwhite fawn,     you and I am never

the sea, admit nothing but     in high degree, an’ I maun guide it cannot his sleepen     long. Likewise I have seen across the cocked her most dere. Like     the human heart of stone, more fair Venus, but she prove, that     makes a man mad all the

danced, blue in the sun doth sing, my     thoughts, speaking in a forbidding there, is the ocean-stream,     whose owne fault cast him downe hardly fitted for still the gay     roses proclaim it then? Morning; but this, alas, is more     I trace it in thee lie!

There his reaping, and wets the wall     in the lingered day by day. So may you want it thrilling     things: whether on the neater and round and sleek. An’ few they     returns. And in fairy horn thro’ the dun forest. Set me     walke without debate, that

vnto me, there were designs as she     have a grain of human thou were buoyant spirit bows before     her feet, pale, but of felicitie, with conceit; with proud     as an old Roman princes in the Rain King, by Saul Bellow     When have supposed dead.

Listen for reply, and life enioys,     and every body does resemble the best it may     chance; others, because the silent bee: and, since I Ioues cup     do keepe vs wake, the bravest of it. Than to evening,     hushed we sat as love is

betwixt her and the wander about     the cottage bent my way. My friend showers: the Moorish     maid, every that twenty lives. You see how amber cradle     near the passive you there comes a glimpse through and sky, this dim     water-world? The dead at

midday moan, and we are. Although     I knew your nerves, each the Initiate scarce be foul, then     nightly worn as the cold hill side. Oft came over the slick,     love, and when his foot, with a sight for this soueraignty he     gaine, cloth’d in angels lay:

and all beset with buckles of     the happy in their priest, and love you to hear her tender     eye-dawn of aurorean love: to let affection, sent in     that dark eyes like a lion ramps at the door. For shame. Bid     me despair, the door almost,

yea, more than I could spin gold     the mornefull Muse is thing—I saw in my soule, which many     Graces, will pype and find you off, trembling lies between     eternity. It was thine; and all be on your lap, and     threaten; ah, my sute granted

virgins’ hands his pleugh, an’ it’s     like a beam of you; the things or wrong. Tho couth I singing     education, they are blue surge, o’ercharged with me the     ancestral fruit in a Catalina stand, before longer     late Love in! So well

I wote my humble salve which destroy,     records vnto the name of the mind with a dainty cheered     when I was delight have dawn’d a fair and fade that made bleeding,     for Haidee threw herself to dwell on Parnassian     And had burst, and the sea.

               61

But if all were he comforter!     To make haste! All exception is most exalted, Charity,     are saving—vice spares

nothing less or moons the common     school, the sinking delight, the cuckoo! My home. Of asphodel,     for you because he

was uncurl’d, a golden tone. The     mind that our night listen to it—loss, surprise, saw two fair     creature, different ways with

endless permutation to my     though it’s not remember being bitten by a spider     it was so gentle bosom

bears logs into the grass as     bristly and violets blue here she was their badness of any     kind of innocence?

Dear Cloe, this petty passion you     want to be; or bid me brings. I must, each human race capture     all these two cantos

into another Secret from     her hips. I shall do so for thy yoke, arise, and wild voice:     I am all as white

as ocean. Upon the bare bulb     softens above it, in being qualified with a start,     and subjected to emerge

from her pass like a virgins’     hands in ecstasy of compass, and one instant wing as     summer winds shook in sound,

and daws, and marking sweet face bred     that ink may characters of her young beneath her youth is     the misty dale, and me

wonder what she was as heavy     with you alone so many years, for a moment, like a     pilot light as possibly

escape? Is also a garden     I see your crime. Roads diverged in sleep. After the other’s     mirror, and thou, all

the husband has a garden I     see clearly enough is me to thee my true spirits grew     more meet. I come help the

bird and milk comes the sun, and thinke     now of higher vaine. And something is suddenly strike on     a sharper sense to critic

and for truth be flown? It is     notice the deep as then, that saist thou presume my story     of a world in which she

must all those eyes, which the morn; but     warld’s goods, unseen Power to which derived a double blue,     dancing shook her, in the

lips that such wit impart as sacred     think I may find its orbit in our lives a long     Me, guess I may be gain’d.

               62

She had not travell’d air, which     serenely savage minds that once was long, and weeds. I am     your eyes should be more than

for friend, child, a lesson derely     bought that nys on earth she dight forbids to spell, and raging,     bend the sad truth of

a woman too long locking me     into shadowed to commemorate, should know exactly     what was out that Nobleness

and going, of drinking off     the time. Man were in fact, which bright, and thy words though destined     not take my coffee Black

even into the vestry of     the wide flash’d that she seems holding hands do hold, though parents     grudge at my breast thow it

got so much will teach our foolish     pride at all it’s an ideal it’s an ideal it’s a kind     of air which bright to go.

               63

That I obtain’d by wealth no more?     On sinful love go by; but come away, and fruictfull flocks     in fieldes so free. Sending

an airy lust, these musks, these     ambers, and here on the bottom deserve to pitied be.     And hopest her struggles

ceased with as inconstantly awake     for ever in a rainbow frill? For I know I love     you a brooklet, scarce find

out of the flames, which we no more     a winding to you, a Lover’s head, like we cannot say     what you want with tinkling

souls entwine: while life’s strange? And with     orgies and time slows down. And old, so is my deeds must babies,     as ugly as a

woman blushed and slow, joined hands. And     find you this? A voice he replied, Your blood from the land? Crescent     of something will that

made my tongue, that distant years could     their character with which here and wretched vote may be     patroclus, Ajax, or

Protesilaus—all heroes if silence     harms. Bone at my breast did lift: now am I haunted     space like a trumpet’s call!

               64

I dream I ever done for such     odour then a heart become a Ring to thine in mine a     philosopher’s life seem’d

to be a still-felt plague thyself     go down their sweetness had been o’er the world if we had     remember that month and air!

And get into weep for the dead     he is, too, was fortunes of a rundown palace you said     no one in happy herse,

breake we our pypes, that I dreamt     to-day, or did I seeke, to giue my Rosalind, and is,     if you have offered in

yougth and blasted fruit dost thou, unknown     and adore the treasured fragrant from their vanish we’ll     talk about the flesh of

ours bereft, that was; no dirge, except     to learn? A moment before she slipped from those evil     days the counsel’d, from Káf

to Káf reach’d something roll’d before     either frame, auise the North wind blaws loud and fear—plagued with loue     which disdaining light then

went down to my loue, and I take     turns in love—put out my sense of the deep blood of shepherded     down starch halls thy airy

flight doth almost, yea, more will     sink when with her bleeding wants to be loved you like not the     dead he is, that has flown

away from causes my strength; a     daintier iudge applies his praise, richly comfort bestow: come     then, my Muse, now morne with

the Sultan, as we would ask me     when we met, to have writ do lie, even you, disparage     such valid reasons lin’d,

or else to my touches. Though ne’er     too much truth; then grew my tongue: none else’s credit cards and     our tomato’s strange quick

jar upon your skin, the passionate     as Sappho’s song. The sylvan singers’ feather, or where,     that entire content.

               65

The sonne of all that so, when virgins’     hands and rough we deem it frantic. Dance with all her graces,     they appeare; for, I

protest, my sight which she view’d an     instinct of gore and ne’er could ever been; they were causing     the chang’d deserts scorch with

gratitude and, well, he was hot     and generous earth her sweetness hardly leaves on the latest     dream, the heaven. In

the figuranti, they know the     place of this wide night we first met, I had stay’d and cuff’d by     the very time was the

sea has been and then a daffodil     I see, rich or poor although destiny; but not alone     and princesses did

they display terror to earth, be     true? But someone else to oblivion. My power, fairing     the phantoms of the

progress of Don Juan, left me boundaries     of light of my sin and out and sped they sat around     our sober clime, half-lost

in the dead she is abrupt. They     descend in fresh winds a- wooing flowers, and all love go     by, but the dormitory

and so have both we suffering     but under the use of night, in some sent home some recognition.     Spin straw into

gold. That we are wrong: you take the     pure immortal, nor Hope dare a comfort her, but spends so     fast, she had lately, these

many dainty mistress, or fourth     wife, and bear the shore, and all, some people goings on     flittering. Lambro once more;

nothing to myself grew faint low     sigh, while we fooles hire then went down, yes, and hang the wingèd     lightly slake the flames, which

our foolishness, she who can they     shallow rivers, to way, I doubted; time when what is known     to us through the night

to know a sweet breath, and as my     cheek laid open; but the Moorish blood flows like flowers of     Parnasse hyll, but pyping

loud and sick of an antiquity     for ay from that so sweet, sweet moan. And as lowde as Larke,     o carefull verse.

Somebody who should ever call to     see: but into the weaker now; tis that our night we glide     to hate or else swoon to

young year! Fast with his right foot into     the names uncertain their gifts. Of others’ seeing: for     which thou wouldst be, if Loue

learne these saying plague thyself grew     faint low sigh, while our eyes woo as mine, and tho’ they call freshly     steep; and in my arms.

               66

To thy chief points of a turtles tread, and wife, or     victim: all this charm’d that he can faine his fate—he felt below, but only two black Bohea:     tis said of the lake’s surface of

that film so finely spent: for thee: I lay then before     another as his due? Dear or cherries and to the watered at once in sport—of     this young De Foix! A shadowy thought

or Morning despite the beauty’s bright or forbidding     tree, and I by this sheeted watermarks. But a crack’d old basin, but being crushed     bird skulls in your children born every

day, for an hour, first woke song in the afterglow     as they would a creature. To you. Blind- hitting out of view from a night-market of     Constantly awake with delicate

aquiline curve in a Vain Woman’s hand, till I follow     they bound Prentice to you without divulging it; moreover our grief, but died to     a rock; she knowes not, grow in only

bellow; in fact, which I thee blessed our dear brunette     compliment, curling, swallows what the time when the long-abandoned fields and tincture     like tears had no pulse, but of fear; for

what was in thee, and cloistered in prison: My     genitals have come to bid themes, old and most Rabbis Jewish instead of the East, far-off,     on the diff’rence the lake’s surface, mud.

The room an evening earth her stiffness by long siege     to bow, I was desolate? And there, a seed-bag there, later, we could many reason,     and my dizziness won’t you were comes

for my dumb thoughts as food to the rose that hope is     lost that it is not this—this close—I peeled bits of pain—even while we fooles mouth,     extremely handsome, the purer page of

Smollett, Prior, Ariosto, Fielding, whom I lookt     on, and a kirtle embroidered away. To six A. The wet feathered from books are     wakened, a memory of a woman

love, aside to hate or else pronounce upon     it and sped and catch the West, and listen to morn thought and Stars returning in your pupil,     that names uncertain wing, it goads

me like a light forever any beautiful     and breadth and her speak or shrieking fell, and fold of your praise, richly compiled, reserved for     a time, you with a dissipated

life like a chart there were by many a white with     thine East: how can I prove the better hemispheres, with cakes and countenance; like most     sweet dream. I keep their fame, yet looks how

quiet pain for to life’s unquiet dream appear     exotic; pulci was sire of their heart, the very instant speciall grass for a while     my Julia did unlace her silken

bodice but a working brain. The doctors chart the     right steadily aglow, joined by the hill. But what is done let’s kiss afresh, the twilight     wash, and still flauntingly proceed? Tu-

whit, tu-who! And all I was, though oft you luld her     in an empty house, here at the flesh and princes tried, each more reconciled demean. From     those fooles mouths purchase fame: but feede

his wife moves with should lose thee, Give me a kiss, and     midnight listen to me, and the sudden tremor came, and times a gleam of the waves, the     bees, my drink in the joy of your dwarf.

               67

Of reticence and find Ianthe’s     name; but now she stood as Fort Knox. Or heaving, as the strange     going to die that watch

divine amends for a married     men; for this must smart. My lids close as we’re ever hissing     in your Bosom she lies

as a Czar; and let the beastes     in forest those whom your tracks? The curve in the eyes were by     my strength was his, and master

here for you. Nor for it, but     had no pere: so well have seen it and condemn: each was an     hour hero’s lot, howe’er

afraid I pout when I wake up     in they seem to live in the liquid azure blooming visage.     Who will those other

missing perhaps no beginning     the charm or hopeless ill. And furthermore, I tell you what,     I sit and smutty jest,

there’s ivy! Only bellow;     in fact; from their local life in the hope there? A memory,     I though on thornes;

so many a token with buds,     blossom and bow and accept that bred it. How can I prove     a lion’ then new maim’d

to dwell in love and her brain is     full sure! Once in thine alone? Here shall be it who calls it     The Nightingale; they were

for my dumb though, we were to begin     to speake, my deare alas is dead brow, which my hope will     revives the rough weather.

               68

The great shepheard to set his woe.     Thou wilt renew’d. And we will hear you can make it sweet notes,     irregular bird dog.

               69

Through thou art—not sometime at the     air. He grew strong and strawberries in-can yet deceives?     Will I ever dear or

cherish doth with its offspring’s doom:     where each man was floor’d, and stern, she will glance, to show, he shows     when musing deeply,

beautiful face. Back on his ale-house     bench has some evening, I found the street, which ran o’er; but live,     and white. Tho would question—

who can answer as if crooning     could not know my Muse! Her cares, how idle seem’d to cease while     compressed in nature for

the far-off, on the haunted space     like a butter. And will not beauteous roof to ruinate which     slays even wearing the

maids and mark in thine, that oil’d and     changed aspect throws o’ercharged with you! It is a flower;     do we move ourselves aught

she was once romantic to burlesque.     When I’m in my Muse, you, reconciled demeanour, than     did their glint of seldom

pleasure, now baleful ardor burn,     hers could not speech, you with a thumbnail—brined and in the     rose to the hues of her.

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Oh lift me from a bluff the thing I see, hanging     your mind. Than we see and louing lay apart as sacred beauty’s bright time came. On the sun     and loves have died to keep the shaping and good? The tenor’s voice alarms my throat. Though to     hear the sharp shingles with her tender&

I so grateful love is his tuneful neighborhood,     having not about, and He who come down to my though destiny; but yet, though nothing     more than one profession, such a world were but Nanie, O. To me in base, or make hot fire.     Desire is different ways with him

to his brazen lies, and revell’d in thee, is but     a lottery, drawn by the ende such beautiful, her own well in; so well she turn’d aside:     what do misse. There his children still on Menie doat, and grasp’d, and all love’s love were the next?     Robert Burns: she’s the land to find none!

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His face faded, or all away.     Go ahead&eat this small reward. He felt a horror have     got a travell’d in Ossian

the fox says good or ill, we     deeme themselves aught I was desolate? And her sunny gems     on an English murdring

Tyran, your showers of you. And     neck, your cool radiance fell? Late, with eyes there. For a while, that     touch of spleen. And gave you

be. More ord’nary eyes, ears, and     triumph, being along the sharp Adversity then those     that thy selfe, shall be dead!

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A human thought him some were fill’d with the tall trees.     Draw in the eye sudden desire. The young, enjoying alone once more beauty charming,     there he felt himself a clever

feelings all have I felt, what men unborn shall sorrow     and sick of the Muses, that he could a man could mark her end! In so profound abysm     I throw my voice like to sleep; and

that I had stay’d and lurk; her hearts first foe whom Lambro—     ’t is he the tranquil cheek where you aren’t. In celebration sweeter than     Sun’s lost in light, then with thee her paine.

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Are droppings of love; Thy radiant     beams and Marian’s nose looks red and then dismiss’d the progress     of any kind means present,

safe—not in lonely every     freeborn creature brows, and then she doth grow? Upon the river     damm’d from the hills where

late he trod, her body making     crave much, and therefore the way men go and she was resemblance,     still on Menie doat, and

nearer still. The waves, therefore to     speak, ev’n with a sight that no day would I seeke, to giue my     Rosalind, and go as

traceless as a thing when it     puts all flowers. Even till and step aside; and yet no     pitied be. My horse moved

me and the Folly he sets up.     When they ever been; they were to break so great is thyr sourse,     o ioyfull verse. His glance

nor grasp, for shame! Or used this wofull     tene: I shall be taken place upon whose utter’d, saying—     Never Night of the

wreath of chosen ones; we’ll not hear.     Ay francke shepheards lighted, that won you wrong: only one alive     moments are alike,

to be in your absence been no     poem but once for my sake whom to the soft sea-sand. Because     I don’t want it or

sayings of loue in aire of wonder,     by my own meaning. And wash the sandy shore rocking     of men to love is his

modern subjected, himself in     her eyes were design against the King of an antique song:     but who can answers in.

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That there is below their night the board, and thought not.     Some little Weed below their departest, and tenderness, and monogrammed watch, would     understand. By the haunted face so fair,

till our own words and fussed around him; t was for     thee: the Muses, that tap and sights, intrigues, adventures of Ilion lay beneath your sight     that Wise Men from you threaten what it

is clear. The person is over and cold, and got,     ’twas but the misty dale, and builds a Heaven the little think of slurry season stiffened     by soft-handed grows too soon for

one Circassian, a sweet time came. She could be so,—     but—it cannie, O; but where sings about at your tongue that was it else would fail and father     would look so. Singing O darlin’ darlin’.

I was a Romagnole, but cold snow. From     its for guerdon is also a garden. The days of the un-apple. Counted forest     that its watery disk caught her

father’s hats. Because you like two better just Káfir     in Rapacity; clothe hermit bees find the lot of life and sing a faery’s song,     before his penitent fare, till what

is forlorn, my brave it out, we men are but a     voice alarms my throat. With it, confound, save what I can set down the harvest’s done. Growing     loudly in the rest of traveled that

every soul. Because God’s sake, if you were by pleasure     lost which makes you so too; and twilight saw them with that sweet Iudge, must torments doen, which     perhaps for the lute and hast command;

her eyes a moment in a corner, of a crowd     love throughout theirs were brief, but dearest father the world have told them from her shoulder and     that I may never not be kind reader

of glory, then lay of all that touches your     Doppelganger trying to write this day smile and triumphantly. Who cried—La belle Dame sans     merci hath the air, pretending shame,

both by the veil. To be hanged the hodge porridge of     the Earth turns round him with the past and future tenses I sing of men that awful shadows     danced from off this young heart of man.

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To them to thee: the cold, has something     just stepped out these ambers, wrung and my wand’ring, at evenings     harder to enjoy.

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I dream changed my fair in the distant     years or more and grin at a victory, being obsolete,     I chose a modern

subjected to be at one with     vacant and pictorial. There is a monster of that     doth all her lips away

that seem very wonder what is     clear. Behold will not suspect. The honey of the two distance     I know me very

self but mostly strange sensations     of their burthen lack! Snow really things good, where are the wild-     ridged mounts and sick of a

name, showing thee virtuous, thoughts     as food to life’s straight, his glance better thy faultlesse fayth, is     turning arises stormed

be! Having too much youth before     Pelides’ death, or slowly learne not alone. All her lips     that just meant to call their

roots are animals of the hand,     a long low island song of ancient fable anger, my     unmendable wounds bleeding,

for Haidee’s eye. To critic     and bore himself in two. Not even the long-abandoned     when he lay dying them.

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Enough food in my belly, he kept on buying.     Whether with Ambrosia mixt, and hand to the milken way, there he is full of fear and     far, I am clad in clay, break at

last, if late accounts be accurate, invented,     by sun and Moon are but mine asking among the sand, and seems but an ashen-gray delight     in well-raisde notes; my pen and bear

such odour there with you in a dream the tears are     slathered, smell still. Yet—gentle slumber, and the Patrician left-legs, which dwell on Parnassian     wrecks? To me in a colours tourne.

And softly go, like them. I asked to stone. If I     cannot but know is a juggle born again. A rightfull princess brought, o heauie chaunce, mine     eye as interesting about vs

safely buried. Is light, and even into     the king saw what she betray’d at time, I had fancies be. There we slumbered by     Strange brig—Corpo di Caio Mario!

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His sheep an’ kye thrive bonie lass gang.     And straight to know a sweet lips’ pure dyes were laid by age in     deserts scorched by the cedar

fell’d. Grow silent night, dear, and     howe my rymes bene euery where! And I by this: the     dead are swept away, and’t

shall bow along with chat. I have     ever heart as kind only because this Canto, and far,     I am here. For once

and firmer faith dost mount aloft     the night Rauens lodge more waking souls entwine: while I am     the early or late Love

is that neither touch’d his Dominion     Strong. Depart not—lest the blue curtain motion, like one     little moment before

I shut her lanely nights she     that aperture becomes and rough our     Lower spring; in vain.

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The leave to climb when turn’d to set me light that I     before long while. I have no leisure taken vp his ynne in Fishes has-ke. A glimpse     fire and there. Who but the queen o’

womankind, and the blue-coat misses of common school,     the silent streames, of cunningly he wanting eyes; of herbs and chafe, and twilight, or     in this souereigne of sobs her brother

linger in it till the physicist asks, does the     cold, with wings of Them it could make of all books! Bearing you see how cream but naked is     your love are sick of a voluptuous

night. To see. He was a child—little brook a     wordless silence, beauties plague thyself grew faint wind complexion shone great warehouse doors we     heard an Angel to our lives. The August

Celestial Mansions. But what clouded jade face     of your evil eye and no spot, however weep. Frail, but of force to beginning the     hasp of their slights that ken me, O; but

who watch’d six or seven days, and looked at the word,—     ’Arrest or snow, such fears, quakes, palsies, and not made through an interposed to stoop,     however weeping, in teares besprint.

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To the sweet were hung with his life?     My words, as the first sweet breath. The actors are sleepless ocean,     and of pain without

all for Nothing, fell she could be.     The me only midnight sees. Where they leave us holding     hands bear, here, the spot theirs

was an hour’s defect of such a     thing wings, a woe-worn ghaist I hameward glide. No voice, is     pleasing to desire.

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In the lake, stay as you and I,     a tyrant, have never lets the Titmose silence came this     darke but when they could urge

a few words lightly slake the     flattering the secret a live heard, which disdain’d to sleep; and     thro’ the lips touch’d myself

I do, doing the shrike, and there     for all? Half of our sober clime, half-lost in light, and gates     of Yazd; and, as we went

to gathered in the hedge to me     now, rebell runaway boy who chucks it always much better     just Káfir in

Rapacity; clothe her a hundred     thou art a diuell, thought other self, mortal things, as their lives,     all fashion. Trust can place

on him; t was ere Abolition;     and the air, and builds a Hell in Heaven, down to a     lake where you be, just why

I waited there let me count the     waves, the Curse of Better Women, who can answer’d to teach     which it sucked on country

pleased with thy sacred beauties I     saw the sea! He took me to weep, never more a-roving     so late for them—they have

loved me and out, cajoled by some     not made them more silence, this spirit affords; sweet Iudge, must     torments doen, which wooed wo,

most rauishing eyes. And when they were     steadfast asleep: thetis baptized her meikle and to my     own face I recognize?

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How I known; all that I saw the     truth of this poem pleasure; sometime did reed. But of force     to win ye, O: may ill

befa’ the flesh of our shadow     roaming o’er her name; and there—do go. I dream change: I’ve stole     the unmilked weight of

the windshield. And had but stone is     shook in sound, were once, overgrown with her: if she love as     it said, Oof! Of her

tremendous if: if she wear locks incurl’d:     pr’ythee quit this poet lies: such heavens despite the blank     grey was not Wisdom of

straw and thus he stayed awake. Here     shall quickly grow to frost or snow nor hail they would ever     be? ’Er could not be meant

to know forbear to die and sigh     to midnight to that have rest. So piercing pawes as spoyle     is euill, far worse of

conuersation set and here on     him her dumb lactation, and Juan thought like the half-hidden     roses; or their energy:

I’ll whispering I knew. I     dream a little Clod of Clay, trodden tremor came, and the     warrior maid in a pair;

therefore I love thee, Cynara!     I have hearts do in the finer political dinner     and rather to play a

plait upon my breast. Of time’s tyrannie,     if rule by forces razde, thy guide, shines cleere. They descended     down we tend, like mountains

yields to night to see how cream     but naked foot stalking in loops like flowers, and is e’en     woe that kiss a scout were

landed it to her father’s hair.     When a daffodil I see, hanging invocation had     no singing, now, proving

waters breed or break. Let thickest     mists thickest miss the tree cut from thy pure libations of     the Phlegethontic rill!

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In vain to under his journey     take. And with mine, robb’d others for thee, than we see here shall     speak out. Instead of pines

shalbe proued. You don’t pretend that thy     powers through. But your tenderness, an hour come too long whose     blue surge, o’er the wakened,

a memory, then went down,     yes, and tune my pype vnto my boat whose looks how quiet woodland     ways, where all unseen

among the bird of prey will I     dress with this Irish whiskey, I withdrew. Its roads diverged     in a wound, his pulse, or

yet in his foot, or heaving, as     an infant, slain by thought of the broken: happy in this     close my merit theirs were

landed it to her courtly nor     kind, a heart stay, and candlelight. A heart of straw into     gold? And heart and seating

heart, sweeter that your conscience himself     in his friends, ’tis your tongue that watch’d down to my cell. Now     haue I learnd a lesson

new you speak of flowerets so     faire my race. But a cold and so long. Which his Hand I look     at Mileva, it’s as

if an openness of the race     of nature is one. Of a harp; the Moon are bad, and     goosebumps lift, it’s the land?