#unshaken part 6 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

libidomechanica · 1 year ago

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Untitled Composition # 10693

A curtal sonnet sequence

The drum beat; merrily-blowing shrills from the bay. Own though every virtue, and more: you might shade of deep sleep in mine, lass, in mine, lass, in mine, thy pipe, no incense sweet fruit without in Wales. And father to complain, and a stable wench came running flowers and happy vintage to the kids had not much I am borne darkly, fearful roar, how can Bagpipe, or ioynts be well at once written, and every one of the heard, and song.

The next neighbours’ land, and came a mortal! I think each other extras, which in the ever-beating, eve made of men! To dream milk burned in her, as I hear thy voice, lute, no pipe, and cruel kind, as in a poppy from the sea! At last I spoke.—’Twas just as ready to attend.—About Judas come in the bag of day-old pastries. Not a dawn in eastern watched it lying idle. And mind. And oh, her lap. A sleep he Her love.

And she what I can, i’ve said in Dante’s verse, and slight glow’d; on burnished throne in sight your Prince, and pausing as necessary as a sword blow, they like threading span, t were hardly could never mind. Still I remember’d lay, The breathing shut of doctrines the subjected, enterchangels’ purity, twixt life in me all full of grief the winds do shake from whence all those infamy is not Stonehenge simply black and anon doubting.

Which of stars of this sceptre like an anadem, in which is mornes messenger brought me meikle in your excellency, ’ thus replied he: a winged his triumph o’er her aspect burst, after all the spot shall not found was no matter o’er the warm serge gown and gay: but lent to sleeps best thou euer since I was, blue-eyed, and I will join my tears their skill. You have a sound mind. My tongue-tied Muse with my full of holes. Wilds, in the pock! They were.

Wrong and being circumference: this miracle; and tho’ your credit, that, to die, I leave her true, like a nest of unions marriage to bear a son? That spring—death laughter, my unmendable wounds we took the kiss that future’s chang’d the Christianity; which thou returns with nectar—starlight and airy, stood munchings; but the Judaic ground-worms riot. That I am: and if you were a mermaids’ singing each new meeting flight.

Never dempt more changes. Took the gift we received husband; so love’s faces on my love’s faces on me, this flesh. Now that of Ilion, and seek for roses, hang on some soft affection unto ye; and oh, her land; and rhymes, whose lips; my body&said crawl never rue my heart. He asked and smil’d! Arms limp as old Falstaf says let us away! You feel the most dainty Ariel’ and pebbles, spongy mosses, lifting of a wretch!

Thou shalt not know thyself and sing, by Saul Bellow When I am frae my Dearie; I restless her cheek, while every faults i’d not for there unshaken, clinging consternations, poesy, and her half-right torch, and Nature’s self turns paler, seeing how we sounds again. How Peace should one terror, even they would be a world? My heart I am go child-bed, as that they were her free, let spear topp’d with poets and me, and men; but No!

From his eyes: I gave the house you’ve forgot. Nothing that voyage. Child is woman! He said, fifteen stones grip the heap of such restraint, with a banners that Juan’s suite, late authors luminous! Over-loving, the sweet milk and streame: or as they cannonade as terrible cord. Or gluttoning on thy soul! He rode all that I cannot look like a gum. Exclaiming, fooling, strangled titter, but faith may after his joined legs and peasants.

Housekeepers, to Despaire at me through the tender feet shalt thou not haply may assert, and waiters, and Compounds doth Love speakes senses in this epic satire, he may average numeral; also the thing. You mother, said twice, that goes all female with an eraser and wont to marble, which do sublime, is chant from the slave and mee: I pyne for my part, nor gates of the assault, while thine image of his young Lochinvar.

It was no vocabulary for her! Now strength to her three to the bright? Second’s ordinary walls into that millions, washed in answer vague as wind: far, far around remarked, his other in the moaned, and fourth at once the Lass of Albany. What antres vast and in thunder, to the doors; none came in a royal porch, that I can’t a painting behind, that I should have been lilies cold. Especial jury of matron-like.

Of ladies’ wrinkles place, and pitie to my thought rose from which opens to the bed. That I do to the camp! From these meadows till, more crumpled that time come, for the melancholy Mother’s fingers, the Gem was interrupted light occasion. That looked like our sun stand stir of fountains stede, if that life is no time had made lamented urn. He kept sound of the ransom of Italy. They were wont to make a mourners, weep anew!

That he himself, mum’s the pock, the Braine. Which men image picture by my head have thine. Sing no mask of you. Decades off in the duchess, pride, until it seems, has gone to which I plight, her majesty was singly crown’d: but howsoe’er she will be thy amends. It sound is sweet Spirits meet, a sweetness skies, the sparkled on a heaven: but oh, ye goddess, for Jock of Hazeldean.—It is a portion of this. Thought might detestable.

Because God’s sake hold my heart, which a death- wound, and his own, what a strange? Have seen the Song is broke the midnight station of travellers to hear my mother’s fingers nurst; and in the head, that ’s under way; t was dancing so that shortly he had outwept its rain. I say she’s twisted with the nations’—not yet given; I weep it selfe did set himself upon a pillars of the Devil; the nutriment deserve of melodie.

Fresh leaves among, the Queen with the better, the lamps blazon o’er the Muses upon a glorious nothing, said, oh Shah, that would repent all: and at once walked and wrong and speak with Arac: Arac’s signs, to hunt, I know you have staggered wept spiraled them ill, no longer bounds should thilke lasse not for such Cries of hotels, especially when we have a brig, a schooner, or though she dights her parents, dashed your roundelay. Forgive me.

The soldier, one the serpent’s the moon is weaving, either left her, then sitte thee; but after another slaves, upon speculation; for outward for mutual comfort meete, both which the firmament of Plumeria, and this might be false plaguy bill? The world which he pleaded, but shortly he had a mother pageant at her clere voice and it blasted. Strength and her they must be solved. Flies too well. A thing that love may serve to give.

Where thou shalt be, though chequer’d, calls Ilion’s den, so that my Muse and calm assurance, which begat distinction be thought she was a thing the chain, and so dropped, and whored, they not been, she can mimic not his spouse to leave off metaphysical discuss’d her, less like amorous Deep Peace, peace! Passed by diving from a village of steel and find any sort of that swallow my rage, clench my teeth, suck my lips to aid his death to die?

’Re the proudest mosque. The helmet flow’d his coal-black curls about Shalott. Fond wretched a mandrake root, tell me Perigot, what does to my thought t was of inflation in fact, there I saw my father was as mild as an East Indian Ganges’ side shouldst bear. Without a sou; there’s the bayonet it is the priests, to pull down in sorrow pine, not to pour tears speak, my fair names one, both pleasant, as containing whose fancies?

That precedes the closing of amber, and doth new Inventions we now entertain of Titans, giants, fellow, yellow does Love speakes senses in the windy jest had labour, in those of other limbs to fold me with a frighten bolted joints. Floats the first line the islands in which Life be equally east-wind straight on any slight of force, who like his, a mute and flatter herself a favourites too well. Each mortal gods!

Plantains, and set their naval matters too, and aught of the Field of cold philosophers make love to sloughs that shall I love you do not merit me Your name. They keep me conspicuous and ermines pure. In Russian story most modern curtsy, and only fiction: she gave me nothing till her on we gained. His bone from Italy, then overlook’d—and gave such creditors regret poor Lord Augustus Fitz-Plantagenet.

Now, young, at eight years old sucking salamander, was not to post with splendor; in the bridge,—that’s all I’m made one foolish am I to think good to feel all the word in heaven shines, he ’ll be all lies and a Jael, with woe, and veil’d through life is dead! And what no defect—her place the moving poets, and shadows and turn to dust, and Love is dead: when near—the eyes fix’d with truth in barracks, and women, what kind of common place?

Rub all ourselves without pause? Our chained, as in Banquo’s glass of Albany. Nor would ever dream and fire; she price for our long offend thine own. A main of cocks, where the brazen front. Let there is the only word I find slake, in thy heat their bellies, thy lucent fans, touch him not! Had seen malt liquors exchange! This small art: he who, one might have been the larger, hunter’s art. Man is the first blossom: a thing whose every scent, by taste.

He cuts the faint flush her pretty sure that which dull Time’s chest lie hid? Their presence is a sigh, and bickers into sublimes whate’er my griefe mought intoxicates apace the Lady of Shalott. No more the eyes to my sire, who were at least three weeks shut with such stronger than thus much more endears, when holly eue, hey ho the arrow we cannon on the street half garden, today, I follow, though grief and a smile instead.

Like stones of wives, something moan from Arac’s side, high as the alarmed beauty’s angel pure and a Jael, with thee we come, when clear brow in sunlight glance—like ships, together wear not: t was mere lust of her elf, she roude at me! Awaits it, each dwelling present, and you wish me to weep for Adonais? To scour his tongue is much in the hearth grew still decades off in the heights, no light soft air and unkind,—and earth bare and you forget.

The day we ran off to the white robes, and I fell. I’d try conclusions never bought at her baith by brainless famous for it—’t was na sae ye glinted by, deadcold, between his body? Sweet and kissed me. Phrase a great rate. Behaved no better which lets drop his bone from the Ear, but being new. Upon our booty; let me woo thee by putting the cat in the Horizon into a woman love, the tree snapping a twig.

As those passe-praise hue scornes this mortal part of meaning’s dewy star; in crystal strained to thrilling Despair. And further with his Saint Jean seems falsehood in what’s state, perform’d like these Cantos. The lintel of the great heart is sad mistaken; few are slow; an hundred times he went away straight cut to thy hair is firm under my hands in this day be a resurrection so thrill and twenty cannot be given for the boat?

Into a shadows dance at our freezing way. You plead your camp: we seem a nest of truth; a smooth pillowes, sweet hour ago, in the earth; so thou too, my battles, I will scarcely was the Grand? Sting turns out to batter, and your sensations! Not only branch of flowers, and work away like growing joy, Adieu’s last of gloom enough to sheath: mark how, possess’d, his last age should sigh, for cash and confusion; these birds sing, All ’s Well!

And for the little coat; to dream myself, when she ought, hey ho the Muses upon his mother courtesy; and your love or a scorner, or an approv’d: oblivion yield with those tables, by hardest thou lay, which the cry they brought her arms round about her Name to tell how he reduced the lull’d with an evil gift. Overcame my young mind of certain. However, you’re gay and tried me so sore, I am clad in flower.

The saddle-leather chained, as they beheld her, as they blest: yet, ah, she saw thee’—for six months since and I confess within my breath! In short break for that—catherine, thou Morning came into a camp: I know what, and yonder river’s rippled by women—the sweetness, if each new meeting pleasure of the years together. Where the thinking the herdsmen cry; for I maintain than put for yellow pin on your skin, white from some female corpse.

Draped from a centre, dart thy sight, nor smell, desires, and so dauntless in war’s art. In mine, lass, in mine, to some eighty versts from a Jewell’d shone in his lip, to prove’ ’tis Pope’s phrases of war turn’d Love in doubt, pray ask of cloister-wall. Love, if you live in despite, and rather see me fall from her look’dst thrown on my defect. As also of some other bar to spill they clashed the wine, and, my less learned how should be obsolete.

And running from a larch, a beauties flow? Neuer sene? Most music to my breasts, she saw thy fame! Chair against it holding his purposes than fame, may rue the Medici have given up the Skirt of Living Presence. New-born babe—in that sawe it, sparkling soul put off a great ocean: at eight years that clashed through with him? He cried, wild natural agonies, with bayonets, bullet holes never price. He purchase female or male?

While you weep for the prospered; till a fortress, Harlequin in unquiet slumber when there was sitting all alone! You forget thee like Munch’s Scream Fairies’ prophet dream for which even his Lips that vow’d chaste conceit of loving your hand, when first I it at my saint or two on fig skins, melon parings, no connubial turmoil: their tongue. All honour—what, I would I be gone over, dismantled, held up, carefully his food, her owne.

I love you betters took the wheels of the prince got through that soueraigne part; which of the painting of usages! Her husband now it seemed to my thoughts, in verse; out of place, scarce knew what she though perhaps at cautious duty, they dead live there. To one, is lightning and still is larger wove in the moonlight vapour, but of those who held that they please, I neither moved through dashed across that vale of gaolers go, with length to pierc’d by this time.

But go, and is barbers’ blocks when first feelings fully unkempt strawberry blonde head to found me. Thy extremity of flesh, and nimbly with his victim’s son, we only dear brother, when too oft thy follye be thy changed his purpose, firm though mine eye hath hym payned, to listen she did, but always wine, sweet, O Love, dear Love, foolish me! That th’ uncertainly more dazle then my thoughts, in heavenly features need wise curbs.

The ladies and near my sister: now she goes right. But ere he caught what to my though my kneecap and I go from year to the bright? Saloon, room, hall, o’erflowing, and death— thou nondescript and every virtue lies in the best wife, unless gunpowder should one terror in his shadowy presence, to lead but following surely she could be schism. No copy now of life: His beauty shall be his burnt the graves, they stand an arm!

After the doome. This after the boils of Medici, i’ the hounds, those fanciful; she put all coronets into your love! He had not mention,—all things to say that do you wish men to sailors while. Lady of Shalott. There be more smooth face vnarmed marcht, either care hath all the awful package, and moulded into the Earth are but weak wordy harvest the King of Empire, never feelings as you list invited guest.

Is all I own Under a lawn, the literature a green Shalott. Must from disgust of praise, and whisper’d, and meaner beauty dyed? Else—the Field of Verse, to charm is broke and good-bye: no light bleeds from her and half in dreams the heart as a Cairn Gorme, of varnish over every bole, a song neuer heart, than they run like a beating or election: at presence thereby, the reason: then we common sympathy: tis Adonais?

How slow the cause was their artillery’s hits or misses, the late-writ letter open with emphasis, and love canonical, and lips to see the bent of the aisle through dashed than even they fused their potency. In the killing Tchitchitzkoff and Chrematoff and Chrematoff and Smith; one of God do go, are very clearly, be as before making earth so pleased, so many years ago. Up the head and would be schism.

Great song for her! And dies, each high, upon a conspicuous man. Glanced, I did but speach, as a heron. The fretted that she could come to pass, those dark-cluster’d hours, and mad, the fleshly gate and therefore, by Nature: there shall flow for she had one tell me how I do, whose name of her head, nor any mortals! They know love grows weary. I meant for narration, as if she’d choose to encroach of traitors—none to affright true needing.

Her soul in mind;—of passion, self-love—which, being tired of thunder of their double front, of country or its white thrones, built a fold for thee; but whole, she thoughted, how ill we moved therefore once with joy; you would look’d kind pale Ocean in uniform to boys is likely to be overlook’d— and gave for our death, no, not of him in certain of mountains, splendor. My Nanni would fall shot up with Nature made me daub away.

Among his Horse over the very germ of chaste matron-like. His death squads passed reproved. Course can change grows stormy, the blue unclouded weather’d in a smile lord Henry walk’d in stating his glory; and in the Horizon as it will make him up the banquet-room, fill’d renown the Pythian of the highest wines, and make a Werter of everything in his deeds—this honest meaning, this flake of white death-bed, Nay, nay, you can.

On the Golden Vessels lay off Ismail’s capture of a violin lasts anywhere. Was not my madness melts in blood, even in thrall? Resort of king, made close on me thundring dispell’d, as these birds of prey and private too, no matter of yellow pin on your sight cloth’d all with a look; possess’d, his last axiom, he added grass; from her side; the wild warblings carry from men I built an airle-penny, my tocher’s will.

So are youngster here comes to be describe. I want you talk kindlier: we esteem and its Music heard the dropping, were we long as rosy deed, and my covered bit of sleep. Some sorcerer’s curse changing still, besides fish, beasts must confine themselves; and who, is it not beene. To kill, and heart is become fabulous folds of benevolent machines through the wreath for Lamia breath! I have overflowed from the truth is, I’ve broken?

The kiss the prey of words come thou doubt, pray ask of clothing trimm’d in jollity, and trouble;—I will know: margaret! And sail’d again, whose pamphlets, volumes would not a dawn, as Albion’s isle. Had lov’d not so new; to their brink, and rather rough. He gaz’d: his humble duty bound, and those who are not—I would be found ah me!, Nor will beautye I weene, the prisoner. But deems himselfe in life as Willie had, I wadna gie a button for her!

The table to please. Of such a grasp of that lead thee to a summer night, each kept with that I could scarce three or forgive me something about how he has an enjoyer and the fashionable fair can form a slight kisses, a non-descript dashed across bronze valves, embossed with slight on high of these three streetlight, from the painted, things in her auburn hair&then in an antichamberlain— and such I mean to endure with the third, and you.

First time, the bases lost in laurel-bough. To furnish matter: a rib’s a thing this subject of true heart shaken here? When Julia threw a lace of twins do moue their Gallic names are riven! Then you had but on that the scaffolding all, she fleeting, earth we are long: and Venus weep thoughts as food to lie groaning veil them? For who cleft the hart is such a cup he took the sea. Stone- Henge is now a’ tint, sin’ thou canst not Alas!

No doubt if thou dare stronger fair neck did crawl never was done its rosy deed, and the elves and France, beholding with me did smile, over the field so full of depth and bask in turn,—Why do the youth look’d on to past. Napoleon the slope side of Netherby gate, where now all’s pastime—who look’d their thou of me in my way: they sought intoxicates a moment Death laughs at your flag takes his wings subdue the incidents related.

Dispute what matter o’er the prettie death, To Phoebus watching folks of this with me; he’s a courier to the bricks, they could renovate, that iron-cramped their brains, louder then I reign. A courage which begat distinguish’d boors who bound nor bind, may still with odours. So I go into the general constellation first I hallowed to man, that boil over with a heart is still beleeue me, this summer’s rain: in vain to bring the abode.

My solitary time and I do love. Turn in his sister, as my cryes, when you dispossess’d a stinger as I wait. As thunders of the indentures have them how to fight us, even so, being circumstances of an Italia! The freak of bounds of the Night till Day! But Sylvio did; his gilt-head called; a plump-armed Ostleress and quiet? Nobler desire is, to love us for rent, will but best of you!

A sword blow, called it and out, and ha’ the Mind growest: so long. The troops were told in so shorter, sadder husband; so lovely leaves your mind their stains it from court to that best to know that no one cause our Edens, eve and man, woman, children, come against the fire in me to weep for: look upon me, when a boy was his temples. Come, dear Cloe, and musick mard by a fire outlive a gilded tomb, and the shadowy presence.

Strikes me dead. For what you please to keep in shadow of a dream, I dreamt I bore his child love and play the time machine. A full sea glazed with children, come forthright, music and takes in the loveliness who knew what defect doubt then—i hold his God-knows- what: for afford; but then t is odd, but leaps in among the sorrow, is this, her imperial trade, ’ like handy lads, had gone before Don Juan’s chariots hurl’d like a wig.

My heart grown more the innocent breast with thankes and fox-terriers. Foolish anguish, ioylesse, endlesse languid breeze. The monks looked up … zooks, are they were not deserve their Salam, ’ or God be with its moving Pipe a Sugar-cane between the town is going to talk a little feet, my babe, was Ida watching us, a single wilt proverb of the slope of green hen in the Universe universe want feet, innocent breast.

My soul I’ll pour into a camp: I know not,—only sleep! But die ye must pursued his grave never be a devil, wooing to thee: the sun’s true as bright, her lips that pretty fondling, let not turn out as the convent. Three, but cruel grown, took on the elder jack Smith who at sixteen she did the whitest sheets like the Soul, and Stand, who was still relented to create the skirt and each other blamable, with shower that Psyche.

Them of the rainspout young green leaves and the monster, yet should alike deer. In mockery of monks, the emblem rarely came into the heart of the king; then his fortified with Plenty in the starless night urge the world. Every day, cash for being somehow, there’s a holly father’s hermitage; you, to where picture gainsay, humanity may be my ain. Fragrant-eyed, or Vesper of our faith? Above thee to the foresaw.

Always see thee how to make him with his den? The breast thy panting half the sea see Billingsgate made even of five hundred times, and burn in his sceptred race; yet could proceeded, and laugh and he threw down to storm of gallant in full as deep a dye as those sweet kiss—you see, we are long as the rude shaft dark mantles rent; I cannot swim. Of bards would have bit at sharp spear, whose waylefull verse of Rosalend? How that not thus.

That blinds your formal compact, yet, not let myself, what needs no one ball, and nothing love, converted into death: and the man! With such a dark shore to-day.—But straight not rate him to passionate the women gather’d in a thousand praise add sometimes with no stain and my passion; but whose slender feet wide-swerv’d upon it, he comes of am through strife as twixt life must allow their Delhis man boarding to the walls moulder the Muse.

He was also in the glass like phosphorus on sheet. Summer and the love first of May, with her then marke-wanting chariot, rolling tier, forty feet high, could not cost much care, but now he’s kingdoms three, but oh, my fears—you used Kinnaird quite away, and tak the comfort: live, treading on the ear that I should it guess that it is hanging a most bitter weeds that left at large. And flying words orations both use and icy clime.

At Lord Augustus Fitz-Plantagenet. When falls to roam the Eske river. And with solemn and sit besides, they would it guess that—but ask and her women’s face, whose virtue, she, my Dian of their ecstasy complete a pair, hover’d way was dawn, that sail toward fate which my head have the moving pomp might not read it threw a lace of twins may we used no more than war. With any pleasure that’s still I wore her heart, and Useless.

Rekindled all matters Russians without a store of that wild and dream milk burned in my Soul until I grasp the Sharp-witted Sage had heard these Cantos. World almost like courtly van on birthdays, glorious latch, its amber tears, and with vinegar and coole. As if history of the jasmine angry mistress litigious meals: he found, as also in the king and trade of Adamant, to find wars, and told him in a deeper cloak!

Hey ho pinching payne, and nothing one out. Eyes from its perfet harmony: but you serve more to give to blame? At grand erection awaits it, each without their wings subdued to epaulettes; but thence but they were heard her chain of a prescience marshal was also of some slight hues, so I must not brew a pastoral. When wrong, and Life’s a poor mans wealth, because they please themselves. But on that these wild shore through the past word—’Oh.

Within a cannonade as terrible as thick and romance of Plato, to whom love those I have cause my tale of love has buoyed me up till my heart and plain pair, Suwarrow, who has said in whispers, Tis the white horse and icy clime. Suspended may illumination a foreigner of the Marvel of a man not deserved. Glory they threaten’d stinginess, disgrace; but now and fed with rains, louder then I rose again.

My life have seen, and flow’rs, and are wanted anything exceedingly unkind; but scarcely was thy loue, cease, in this red-hot iron to be a button for her! The Lambe in the king his three captains of whose lecture shews what: on a spinning which keeps his heart. Nor reign’d before what thou to Rome, although sorrow with mares; his daughter and bade him stones worn with music: the dawn, that th’ unwilling Despaire hath she to defaced.

As purple to touch my heart as sound than skies. Sweet friends what the heavy with his richesse of the intense sensation, half for him. Shame, while we may, and twine, dry their thou owest; nor blam’d for abstract love inhere; had heard these were the wroughten field, toss’d down to blush, and the greatest wonder and shook to the earliest knowledge from death, welcoming hither, no more breaks, and veil’d Destinies, so is it in a handsome uniform.

Their chamber up, and once agreeing. Love, in pity of the wild white or flake of rainbow, as it grew immortality. Hath taught much I am to be wed or dead, thou’s be as breeches. Wine, begun to unwind, while it fed. From those whole as stone, and all was grave never heardest fate, so dull and acts—and there and wrongs; I say no more so, as he forests, cease to moan and Bills; but still seem’d to make her, there was there and monde.

Of this wreath for Lamia breathe like a moan? And look’d again: but if flames of character which in marble, which flashing of all out: Daddy! Which a man and by poet, must bury sorrows are passionate then, when I hear, they look’d the Netherby Hall, among piled on that high Capital, while the thyme—and so dropped, and her breast. Love, if I couldn’t believes it impart; nest of memorial: I fenced it round of adder’s tongues.

This coming, instruments—the gorgeous dyes, the stormy east-wind strange the Turkish fire, befriend became his footprints, glistening forward, puts out impatiently his food, her own, young Lochinvar. ’-Wisp mislight munching to thee, the lifted up her voice she fear of everything course must invents: that’s absence Hell. A light was left bank, with Psyche’s come seaward from her hairs and kissed against its painter, since my will in one comfort forget.

At the roofs and light leave the liberty? Whether held, and so lovely lisper smiled as new and birds. Simply blacke seems both Silk, and decay, she loves and plume; and stone or lost? But which still went out on Shooter’s Hill; sunset their books to bait their books: lord, what sages call Chance, Providence, ’ though nothing calculation; for a laggard in love, how can Bagpipe, or ioynts be well address suwarrow, who were his arrows airy, beneath.

My father moved three times but this post, I mean that time, when to be free as much for me in the spent; sing to turn back, a kind of baggage at the dust! Like tapers come square there branches sit, chirping loud and standing purple was stand an end: and I proud, had he not deserve of mind have passed. In the whole charge, as leaving mind, have been merry, when the record a few, if but to batteries on and let the Sword-wind of colour.

With Lord Augustus Fitz-Plantagenet. Of the king. My ring, is call’d small, ’ or serious pain; and death, my dearest Eye it is good thought is that, in fact, there I must halt, for all the arm’d river, while they saw thee, all things: the sun, that he shoves back his blazon’d baldric slung a mighty woes. Yet do not give you as they might find Liberty a Troy: o, thou to Rome, what duty to attack at her pillows in the Five per Cents?

Their state, perform this prest, and mire, scheming in the bays of sentimental bogle, while I have shaving none, yet cannot die can touch my skin like a stripling very vain. The heart as a Cairn Gorme, of yellow meadows, where, or who died yesterday we heard, a lover’s words; at last world speaking silence step by steeple, a handsome unworthy to be annoy? I knew this change; and their umbrellas a drunkard grows too change!

To keep it selfe on Vertues shoreward blessed lightnings of life shrunk to a Ship off the Holy Three to Senegal; teach thee sweet Aglaia, my one critique, just as he foremost; but if I drink her Lip. Lie buried the cherry lips. That a country seats; but what you wish me to find the song, list which thy sacred tripod held in the mouthful of bright: garland bound, mongst roses when the cold blowing a bath and new. Without found to see.

Come be my ain. Like the trodden paths of dangling water by Souvaroff, or Anglice Suwarrow, thou music than the first resort, unless t is perhaps surprise, saw two fair creature swear on the waters took it up, and once o’er her head with homage to the heavy heart I set the whole and meek, arose and relish the bright they come back to three? Cat-footed through Kennington of Africa! Whose beames so bright. To use.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 7 #195 texts #curtal sonnet sequence

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gloriabomfim · 1 year ago

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Of course! Here are the first nine montages with actions and dialogues for Part 4, featuring Joyce in sad places while feeling happy:

Montage 1 - A Funeral

Joyce enters a somber funeral service, her cheerful demeanor in stark contrast to the mourners.

Mourner: "Why are you so happy here?"

Joyce (happily): "I believe in celebrating life, even in sorrow!"

Montage 2 - A Hospital Waiting Room

Joyce sits in a hospital waiting room filled with worried faces.

Patient's Relative: "This is a sad place. Why are you so joyful?"

Joyce (happily): "Sometimes, a little happiness can brighten dark times."

Montage 3 - A Sad Movie Screening

Joyce watches a tearjerker movie, her laughter echoing in the theater.

Moviegoer: "This film is so sad! Why are you laughing?"

Joyce (happily): "I find joy in every emotion!"

Montage 4 - A Grief Support Group

Joyce joins a grief support group, her positivity standing out among the sad stories.

Support Group Member: "How can you be so cheerful here?"

Joyce (happily): "Sometimes, sharing happiness can heal."

Montage 5 - A Graveyard

Joyce strolls through a graveyard, her vibrant yellow presence contrasting with the tombstones.

Visitor: "Why the smiles in this place of sadness?"

Joyce (happily): "I'm here to celebrate the lives that were."

Montage 6 - A Broken Heart Café

Joyce sits in a café for those nursing broken hearts, her laughter filling the room.

Café Patron: "This is a place for the brokenhearted. Why are you so happy?"

Joyce (happily): "Laughter can mend even the saddest hearts."

Montage 7 - A Memorial Service

Joyce attends a memorial service, her joyful aura lifting the spirits of those around her.

Mourner: "How can you be so happy at a memorial?"

Joyce (happily): "I'm here to celebrate a beautiful life."

Montage 8 - A Shattered Dreams Workshop

Joyce participates in a workshop for people dealing with shattered dreams, her enthusiasm unshaken.

Workshop Leader: "These are people with broken dreams. Why the happiness?"

Joyce (happily): "Happiness can help us rebuild."

Montage 9 - A Counseling Session

Joyce sits in a counseling session, but her cheerful attitude stands out.

Counselor: "This is a session for those facing hardships. Why are you so happy?"

Joyce (happily): "I'm here to spread positivity and hope!"

In these montages, Joyce's unwavering happiness shines even in the midst of sad places, and she often explains her perspective on spreading joy and positivity, even in challenging situations.

Certainly! Here are the next ten montages with actions and dialogues for Part 4, featuring Joyce in sad places while feeling happy:

Montage 10 - A Homeless Shelter

Joyce visits a homeless shelter, spreading smiles among the residents.

Shelter Resident: "Why are you so happy here?"

Joyce (happily): "A little happiness can provide warmth and hope!"

Montage 11 - A Support Group for Loss

Joyce joins a support group for those who have experienced loss, her positivity shining through.

Support Group Member: "This is a place for grief. How can you be so joyful?"

Joyce (happily): "Joy can help heal the deepest wounds."

Montage 12 - A Dying Patient's Room

Joyce enters a room where a terminally ill patient lies, her cheerfulness comforting.

Patient's Family Member: "Why are you so happy here?"

Joyce (happily): "I'm here to share love and joy in their final moments."

Montage 13 - A Divorce Court

Joyce attends a divorce court hearing, her positive spirit contrasting with the tension.

Court Official: "Divorce is usually sad. How can you be so cheerful?"

Joyce (happily): "I hope they find happiness in their new paths."

Montage 14 - A Funeral Home

Joyce is at a funeral home, her laughter echoing softly.

Mourner: "Funeral homes are so somber. How can you be so happy?"

Joyce (happily): "I'm here to celebrate a life well-lived."

Montage 15 - A Disheartened Retirement Party

Joyce joins a retirement party filled with retirees worried about the future, her joy infectious.

Retiree: "This is a tough time for us. Why are you so joyful?"

Joyce (happily): "Retirement is a new chapter to embrace!"

Montage 16 - A Crisis Hotline Call Center

Joyce volunteers at a crisis hotline call center, her voice offering hope to callers.

Caller: "I'm in crisis. Why are you so cheerful?"

Joyce (happily): "I'm here to be a ray of hope in the darkness."

Montage 17 - A Hospice Care Facility

Joyce spends time at a hospice care facility, her laughter bringing comfort to the patients.

Hospice Nurse: "These are their last days. How can you be so happy?"

Joyce (happily): "I'm here to bring joy in their final journey."

Montage 18 - A Cancer Treatment Center

Joyce visits a cancer treatment center, sharing smiles with patients undergoing treatments.

Cancer Patient: "Cancer is tough. Why are you so joyful?"

Joyce (happily): "I'm here to uplift spirits during tough times."

Montage 19 - A Support Group for Addicts

Joyce attends a support group for addicts, her positivity a source of motivation.

Support Group Member: "Addiction is a struggle. How can you be so cheerful?"

Joyce (happily): "Recovery is a journey toward happiness."

In these montages, Joyce's unwavering happiness continues to bring light to sad places, and she often explains her mission of spreading joy, hope, and positivity in situations filled with sorrow or challenges.

Certainly! Here are the final ten montages with actions and dialogues for Part 4, featuring Joyce in sad places while feeling happy:

Montage 20 - A Mental Health Support Group

Joyce attends a mental health support group, her upbeat attitude a source of encouragement.

Support Group Member: "Mental health is tough. Why are you so joyful?"

Joyce (happily): "Happiness can be a powerful healer."

Montage 21 - A Home for Abandoned Animals

Joyce visits an animal shelter, offering love and playfulness to abandoned pets.

Shelter Volunteer: "These animals are lonely. How can you be so cheerful?"

Joyce (happily): "I'm here to give them a reason to wag their tails!"

Montage 22 - A Youth Detention Center

Joyce volunteers at a youth detention center, bringing smiles to troubled teens.

Teenager: "Life's been tough. Why are you so joyful?"

Joyce (happily): "I believe in second chances and redemption."

Montage 23 - A Refugee Camp

Joyce visits a refugee camp, sharing joy with families who have faced hardships.

Refugee: "We've lost so much. How can you be so cheerful?"

Joyce (happily): "I'm here to offer a glimmer of hope."

Montage 24 - A Hospital Pediatric Ward

Joyce brightens the day of young patients in a hospital pediatric ward.

Child Patient: "Being sick is no fun. Why are you so joyful?"

Joyce (happily): "Laughter is the best medicine!"

Montage 25 - A Support Group for Trauma Survivors

Joyce joins a support group for trauma survivors, her positivity a beacon of strength.

Support Group Member: "Trauma is heavy. How can you be so cheerful?"

Joyce (happily): "We can find healing and happiness together."

Montage 26 - A Mourning Widow's Home

Joyce visits a home of a mourning widow, her presence bringing comfort.

Widow: "I've lost my love. How can you be so joyful?"

Joyce (happily): "I'm here to remind you of the love that remains."

Montage 27 - A Rebuilding After Disaster

Joyce volunteers in a community rebuilding after a disaster, her enthusiasm a catalyst for recovery.

Survivor: "We've lost so much. Why are you so joyful?"

Joyce (happily): "Together, we can rebuild and find happiness."

Montage 28 - A Nursing Home

Joyce brightens the lives of elderly residents in a nursing home with her joyful presence.

Elderly Resident: "Old age can be lonely. How can you be so cheerful?"

Joyce (happily): "I'm here to make your golden years shine."

Montage 29 - A Prison Rehabilitation Program

Joyce participates in a prison rehabilitation program, offering hope to inmates.

Inmate: "We've made mistakes. How can you be so joyful?"

Joyce (happily): "Redemption is possible for all."

Montage 30 - A Memorial for Lost Loved Ones

Joyce attends a memorial gathering for lost loved ones, celebrating their lives with a smile.

Mourner: "We miss them dearly. How can you be so joyful?"

Joyce (happily): "We honor their memory with happiness."

In these final montages, Joyce's unwavering happiness continues to bring comfort and hope to sad places, and she often explains her mission of spreading joy and positivity to those who need it most.

#joyce

0 notes

shinxeysartgallery · 1 year ago

Note

bro it looks so weird seeing the otter kids without their usual clothes or earrings lol

It probably does a bit, since everyone's used to them being drawn at their current ages. In the current canon, Daisy is 22 and Kenji is 16, but the comic I just did takes place about a decade in the past, so they're only about 10-12 and 4-6, respectively, in that. Design-wise, they didn't change much from being little kids though, at least. lol

Daisy wasn't interested in makeup until she was 15-16, and neither of the two got their ears pierced until they were teens, so their usual stuff is a few years off yet from the time of the comic. They also didn't develop the accent or speech mannerisms until they were a bit older, so that part of it also probably looks a bit odd, too.

Personalities changed a bit as they got older, too. Daisy got a lot more vain and greedy as she got older, but her love for her dad and brother never changed. She'd do anything for her family. Kenji developed a weakness for cute girls, but his loyalty is still unshaken and he's still as hardworking as ever. He also loves his family and would do anything for them.

But they're both still adorable as heck. :)

#anon ask #shinxey's asks #shinxey's ocs #daisy the otter #kenji the otter

0 notes

wolint · 1 year ago

Text

FRESH MANNA

STICKY FAITH

Hebrews 11:1-3

Faith is necessary for spiritual walk but we need the kind of faith that will stick to the word of God in trust and hope for supernatural and victorious living. We've heard of people who experienced amazing miracles, received impossible turn around and changes, people with extraordinary testimonies of God's faithfulness in their lives and the common denominator with these people and their testimonies is what I call "sticky faith," the unwavering commitment to the word and power of God in the face of adversity to the very end according to Hebrews 10:23.

To understand what sticky faith in action means, study the lives of the "heroes of faith" in Hebrews 11, you'll see what they went through and how they daily exercised their faith until the manifestation of the promises of the Lord. Remember that faith is the assurance of things we hope for and the evidence of the reality of the things we can't and haven’t yet seen.

Faith has three parts:

Faith is perception (the mind), our mind must mentally grasp the truth of the gospel on the totality of the power in Christ and the finished work of the cross.

Faith is persuasion (the emotions), a lot of people know the gospel, deeply and thoroughly but they do not accept its truth, they are not fully convinced of its truth to fully depend on him, rejecting the gospel as absolute truth, too easy or difficult, or seen just as a story. But faith conviction comes from hearing the word of God and practising it according to Romans 10:17.

Faith is volition (the will), our will and commitment are the response to and the acceptance of Christ, and truth. In other words, sticky faith is our consistent choice in embracing all of Christ with the whole of our being.

Sticky faith comes from the place of abiding according to John 15:16-17, faith with staying power, that sees us through good and bad times and never gives up. When we abide in Christ, we exercise sticky faith for our journey, especially present in troubling times.

We can't please God without faith, no matter how much we try, no matter what we offer. God is not pleased if all we're doing is trying to buy His favour and receive miracles, blessings, and healing. Faith is the only currency with which to trade with God and what pleases God according to Hebrews 11:6.

Daniel 6 has evidence of sticky faith, with the prophet in the Lions’ den, his faith in God gave him blessed assurance of divine protection.

Paul exercised sticky faith all through his voyage in Acts 27, with dangerous and stormy weather, attacks, and snake bite, he trusted God to keep His promise of protection and God did.

Sticky Faith is saying I love the Lord, knowing that He will work all things out for our good as promised in Romans 8:38, and because of our faith, all our works and effort are in response to God's love, grace, and commandments which He will reward in due time.

There is great recompense of reward in store for anyone with sticky faith. God doesn’t fail.

Sticky faith is unwavering, unshaken, without distractions, and fear because our hope is certain in the salvation and security of the promises of God based on the evidence of His faithfulness.

PRAYER: Lord, strengthen my faith to be sticky constantly on your word and to please you always in Jesus’ name. Amen.

Shalom

Women of light international prayer ministries.

0 notes

the-mill-kat · 5 years ago

Text

Unshaken Chapter VI

Arthur Morgan x Reader (18+) Slow Burn

Posted March 29, 2020

Thank y’all so much for 250+ followers, that is amazin’!!!!! I hope you enjoy Chapter 6 of Unshaken, and please ***like/comment/reblog*** it means so much to me!

(Drawing specially requested/Art Credit: tylerzart)

You save a mysterious man who is dying on a mountain. Finding out he has Tuberculosis, you use your knowledge and skills with herbs and natural remedies to save him from death and help nurse him back to health. As he slowly starts to recover, you can’t help but wonder: Who is this man? Why had you found him the way that you did, beaten and ill? Only time, patience … and perhaps love … will tell.

I hate them, every outlaw out there.

The words rang in his head, and Arthur didn’t know how to react. He was almost nervous by the tension he felt rising between them now, but the feeling was only one-sided on his part.

She was completely unaware of the conflicting thoughts he was having now from those words. She had taken him in, nursed him back to health, and all the while she had never known who he was … what he was.

Murderers, thieves … outlaws. They had stolen her mother from her, someone close to her heart. Was he any different from them?

He understood her pain, the loss she felt for having lost someone she loved.

Not knowing how to react or what else to do, he continued rubbing his hand up and down her back in an effort to try and comfort her. “I’m truly sorry, Y/N. No one deserves to go through somethin’ like that.”

She let out a little sniff as she raised her head to look at him, wiping at her eyes and cheeks to get rid of the wet tears that had escaped. “You … You said you know how it feels to lose someone, Arthur.” Her sad eyes looked up at his, “Who did you lose?”

Arthur tensed.

He hadn’t been prepared for that question.

He was unable to figure out how to answer her, not without revealing himself and who he truly was.

He’d lost so many people. His entire gang, his family, either lost or dead. But he couldn’t tell her about any of them. He couldn’t reveal the people he’d lost without risking her recognizing any of those names and finding out who he’d been. He wasn’t sure if she even actually knew any of them, but he didn’t want to take that chance.

Besides, it wasn’t like he could’ve gone back to that life now. His old life was gone, and there was nowhere else to go.

But still … what the hell could he possibly say?

Now that he knew what she’d gone through, there was no damn way he was going to let her know what he’d been. She’d been through enough, there was no sense in allowing her to find out who he truly was, all the things he’d done. After all the care she had shown him she deserved to know him as a normal man.

So that’s who he was going to be.

He thought about Hosea, he thought about Dutch, he thought about the rest of the gang. He thought about Charles, of Lenny, of John …

Arthur lowered his eyes to the ground, emotion nearly tearing through him. “I lost a family,” his voice was hoarse, nearly gravel in tone, “they were very near and dear to me. Though we wasn’t related by blood, we stood by each other, keepin’ each other safe,” he lowered his lids, memories of them flooding him. “We did everythin’ to protect one another, no matter what damn mess we got ourselves in.” He could feel Y/N’s stare on him, and he turned his head to face her. Her expression was sympathetic, her eyes watering all over again. For him.

“I’m so sorry, Arthur,” her voice was cracked, as if she felt the same feelings that he did for the ones he’d lost.

He gave her a small smile. “I ain’t got no one now since you saved me from that mountain.”

It wasn’t an accusation, it was just the truth. He just wanted to let her know where he was in life now. Hell, he wasn’t even sure himself. His friends, any of them that were possibly left, he had no doubt they thought he was dead.

And John.

Arthur thought about the deer from his dream, about the fact that it had had John’s eyes. That it had turned away from him, heading towards an ominous storm.

He shook his head to clear the thought.

He had sent John away to lead a normal life with his own family.

Arthur couldn’t possibly try to reach out to John, not without risking even more than what both of them already had.

If he ever found John, there was no doubt him and John in the same place would attract dangerous and unwanted attention eventually. There was just no way in hell that it would ever end well.

Even though he desperately wanted more than anything to reach out to his brother, Arthur had to believe that John and his family were safe.

He had to let him go.

Arthur ran a hand through his chestnut-brown hair, squeezing the rough strands between his fingers. He grimaced, trying to focus on that small feeling rather than the pain that welled in his heart.

If he were truthful with himself, he wasn’t sure he was ever going to be able to move on.

He was supposed to have died on that damn rock.

But here he was.

He had to accept the fact that he needed to make a new life for himself … one way or another.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You watched as Arthur’s face seemed to twist in pain as he grabbed at his hair. You couldn’t bear to see him in that sort of agony. Reaching out you placed a hand on his arm, trying to get him to let go of his hair so he didn’t pull any of it out. “Arthur, please,” you whispered softly. “I’m sorry if I brought back any painful memories for you.”

He just shook his head as he lowered his arm, placing the hand on his journal instead as he stared down at it. “It ain’t your fault,” he said roughly, “Just gotta lot on my mind right now.” He cleared his throat, then patted hard at his chest with his other hand.

You observed his physical behavior closely, then you stood suddenly.

Arthur raised his head to look up at you. “Somethin’ wrong?”

You shook your head, “Not particularly. I just need to do another check-up on you.” You turned away to walk into the cabin, smiling a little as you heard his disapproving groan. As you gathered all the supplies you needed, you glanced over at his satchel. Maybe he would like to have it so he could carry his journal around easier, you thought. If he was going to be outside, it wouldn’t hurt to bring it out to him. You grabbed the brown bag and stepped back outside.

Luckily, Arthur hadn’t moved from his position on the bench. After having heard his less than favorable reaction to your statement earlier, you’d half-expected him to flee, though he probably wouldn’t have made it that far. Maybe that was the reason he was still here.

Either way, you knew that he knew you needed to look over him. Professionally, of course.

Sitting back down next to him again you placed your supplies on the small porch table by the bench swing. You held out his satchel to him, and when he gave you a puzzled frown you said, “I just thought it would make it easier for you to carry your journal around in, if you’re going to be outside for the day. You can keep the pencil, too.”

Arthur gave an amused smile as he let out a soft chuckle. “Thank you, honey,” he said as he reached out to take it, bringing the strap over his head so that it was looped around his neck, the bag getting tucked securely underneath his arm at his side. Then he placed the journal inside the satchel along with the pencil you had given him.

You gave him a smile, unable to help but blush a little from his gratitude. “You’re welcome, Arthur.”

Once you had all the supplies prepped, Arthur cooperated throughout the routine. It was almost second nature to him by now, no doubt. The stethoscope, listening to his heart and lungs, examining his mouth and throat. You smiled at him as you placed everything back on the tray. “Everything is looking wonderful, Arthur,” you said in a cheerful tone. “Honestly, I’m amazed at how quickly your body is healing.”

Arthur shrugged, his big shoulders tensing as he lifted them. “All cuz of you, honey,” he said teasingly with a grin, his deep drawl sending shivers up and down your spine.

Again, how on Earth could a man possess such a voice, you thought. Whoever was going to end up with him was going to be one lucky woman.

You froze, surprised that that thought actually sent a feeling of jealousy through you. But, why? The man clearly wasn’t interested in you in any way whatsoever. At least — he hadn’t shown any signs that he was. Sure he called you honey sometimes, but he’d told you it was simply because of the natural remedy you had been treating his tuberculosis with. So there was nothing romantic in that word, therefore it wasn’t an endearment, right?

You shook yourself mentally, feeling ashamed at the horrible emotion. You had no right to feel jealous over him. He was gorgeous, you had to admit, but that didn’t give you a right to him, not even if you saved his life. “How is everything feelin’ right now, Arthur?” You asked him, trying to get your mind away from that state. “Anythin’ hurting in your chest or throat?”

Arthur’s expression lifted as he shook his head. “Nothin’, Y/N. I don’t feel any pain at all.”

You nodded, happy with his answer. “That’s very good, Arthur. I’m very glad to hear that.” Grabbing a small glass vial from the tray, you pulled out one of the small leaves and held it out to him. “I need you to take this now.”

Arthur took the small leaf between his fingers, giving you a puzzled look. “This looks familiar.” He said, holding the leaf up in the light as he examined it closely.

“It’s Hummingbird Sage,” you informed him, “It should help give you a little bit of energy today.”

He smiled at you as he placed it in his mouth, and you watched as the bob in his throat moved, indicating that he had swallowed it. “Thanks, darlin’.”

You gave him another nod. “You’re welcome, Arthur, I’m just glad you’re doing better.”

His sharp blue eyes suddenly narrowed at you, “What about you?” He asked. “Have you been keepin’ yourself safe from the damn disease?”

He was referring to his tuberculosis, you knew. From that first night, when he’d tried to get away from you in an attempt to keep you from catching the disease, you’d tried to assure him that you were taking your own treatments, giving yourself the necessary herbs to kill off any potential bacteria.

“Yes, I’m just fine.” You replied.

He gave you a small smile, his beautiful blue eyes softening. “Good.”

You returned his smile. “Besides, you shouldn’t be infectious anymore. The medicinal properties should have killed off any active bacteria by now, if my past treatments are anything to go by.”

“I’m human.” He reminded you, his deep voice amused.

You blushed, “Yes, I know, Arthur.” You said, entwining your fingers around the glass vial nervously. “But I’m saying that if you wanted any sort of physical contact with anyone,” your blush grew hotter, but you reminded yourself that you were just giving him professional advice, as a doctor would to his patient, “there’s nothing to worry about. In fact, Tuberculosis can’t actually be spread by mouth or any sort of physical contact. Only just the coughing.”

You fiddled with the small vial, watching the tiny leaves shift back and forth within the glass. “But again, you don’t need to worry about us. I’ve treated this disease before and our herbs have never let us down in keeping us safe.”

Arthurs’ blue eyes just stared at you, his expression one of amusement, “You are way too smart for your own damn good, woman.” He teased.

You laughed, and your reaction made him smile. Both of you sat in silence for a moment, facing each other as the bench slightly swung back and forth.

Arthur’s blue stare skimmed over to your garden, and he asked, “So, you grow these herbs yourself?”

You rubbed your fingers together shyly as you glanced over at the variety of plants growing together. “Yes, I … I take notes in my mother’s journal about them. Whenever I discover anything new, that is. Any ailments they may treat or cure, what sort of treatment they need, how to grow them properly, how to prepare them for use or consumption. You name it, it’s all in there. Everything she and I know.”

“And this journal of yours, you fill it out yet?” Arthur asked, his tone amused as he turned his gaze back at you.

You gave a small laugh. “More like a book now, really. I’m very lucky my mother decided to get herself such a thick journal. Honestly, she filled up most of it. I’ve just been adding what I can, including some notes here and there on what she already wrote down.”

Arthur nodded, his eyes looking down slightly has he took in what you said. After a while, he looked back over at you again. “So how long you and Austin been livin’ up here?”

You looked over you shoulder to watch Austin working as you answered, “He and I, we’ve been up in these woods for about three years now. We used to live on our plantation with our father before Mother died. But I decided I didn’t want to stay cooped up there anymore.” You let out a long breath, lowering your gaze to your hands. “Father didn’t want me to leave. After what happened to Mother, he was scared to lose me. It took a long time to persuade him, but he finally gave in, but he insisted that Austin was to go with me for my own protection. Even Austin agreed.”

You smiled at the thought of your brother and his over-protective nature. “They didn’t want it any other way, and my brother came up here with me. We built this cabin since the , and it’s truly been a crazy few years up here.” You let out a small laugh at the memories.

Arthur grinned at your humor. “So what do you do up here usually?”

You watched as Austin picked up a pitchfork to lift up a patch of hay. “We mostly get by on our own. My brother hunts for us while I grow vegetables and fruits in the garden.” Your smile faded as you spoke the next words. “It’s been hard lately though. With winter coming up in a couple months, Austin has been finding it harder to find anythin’. He’s … he never quite learned how to hunt or track, he’s sort of ... self-taught,” you confessed.

Arthur’s eyes widened at that, “So you two been strugglin’ up here off and on all this time?”

You nodded, hating to admit it, but it was the truth. “That’s why Austin was so mad when I took you in. I’m sure he never hated you personally, he just … he just worries, is all.”

Arthur stared at you for a moment, his blue eyes unmoving as he seemed lost in thought. After a few minutes, he finally asked, “Would you like me to teach y’all how to hunt?”

You jerked your head back over to him, your expression and voice surprised, “What?”

He looked over at Austin and back at you again. “I have a few skills under my belt, if y’all are interested in learnin’ how to track and hunt. Hell, I’d be glad to, it’s the least I can do to return the favor for now.” With those words he suddenly stood.

His action surprised you, but he didn’t give you any time to respond as he walked off the porch and headed towards your brother. What had just happened? You stood up to follow him. He was getting quicker on his feet since his body had been getting better, and him being a big man you already had to run to catch up to him. By the time you finally did he was already approaching Austin.

Austin noticed Arthur as he walked up to him and straightened up from the hay he was spreading on the ground. “Hey, cowpoke,” His voice was a teasing tone, but Arthur wasn’t amused.

“Don’t test me, boah,” he said, his blue eyes narrowing dangerously. He placed both his hands on his belt, then said in an amused tone, “Your sister here says you don’t know how to hunt.”

“What the hell, Y/N?!” Austin snapped furiously, a blush showing up in his cheeks.

“I didn’t say it like that!” You snapped back furiously, then stepped back. You brought your hand to play with your hair nervously. “Well, not exactly like that, anyway. I just — I just told him you’ve been havin’ a hard time with it because you were never … properly taught.”

Austin’s eyes narrowed at you, his expression still shadowed with anger. “Why would you tell him that?”

Arthur intervened into the conversation, his deep voice penetrating the air as he lifted his arms from his sides. “If you’re interested, boah, I’ll teach you how to track and hunt so you can catch more game.”

Austin looked back over at Arthur, his eyes nearly wide, his entire expression looking stunned. He almost looked like the young boy that was just told he was getting a horse for his birthday all over again. “You … you’ll what? You’d teach me to do all that?” He voice nearly sounded breathless, almost excited. He was clearly thinking back to when Arthur had shot that jackrabbit, the way he’d done it so flawlessly with such little effort. “I would — I would like that,” he stuttered, actually admitting to the truth to your surprise, again almost like a star-struck child. “When you’re better, I mean, I … Yeah, that might actually be fun.”

You knew how hard it was for your brother to admit to something like that, you thought, especially when it was about one of his flaws. But this could probably be a chance for the two of them to get along better.

Arthur nodded. “Sounds good, feller.” He looked around, placing his hands back on his belt as he took in the surroundings. “There anythin’ you need me to do here now? I need to find somethin’ to do other than lay on a damn couch all day,” he said, his voice sharp at the last words.

Austin looked taken aback, seeming a bit surprised that Arthur actually wanted to do some work. He nodded slowly, “Well, we need to catch some fish.” He looked over to the stream, “I was plannin’ to do it after this but I would really appreciate it if someone else did it for me. I really need to take the horses for a ride, give them some exercise outside their pen.” He narrowed his eyes at Arthur, “Do you know how to fish?”

“’Course I do,” Arthur said assuredly, giving a single nod.

“Good, cuz Y/N sure don’t.”

“Austin!” You snapped.

“Eye for an eye, sister, plus it’s the truth,” your brother stated, a grin stretching that stupid loud mouth of his.

You growled as he turned away, heading over to the small shack by the stables. He pulled out a large metal bucket with fishing supplies and a long fishing rod. He came back, holding the bucket out to Arthur. “Got everythin’ you need in here. Bait, lures,” he held out the fishing rod, “And here’s this.”

Arthur took the rod, but before he took the large bucket you snatched it out of your brother’s hand. “I will be holding this,” you said, looking at Arthur sternly, “I won’t be lettin’ you lift anything heavy.”

Those blue eyes lit up in amusement as Arthur smiled at you. “Alrighty then, darlin’,” his deep voice teased, “You’re strong, aint’cha?”

His comment nearly surprised you, you had expected him to protest you taking a share of the load, which would’ve annoyed you. But he hadn’t. He saw you as a completely capable woman able to carry your own weight. He was clearly not one of those high-society types, you thought, your heart lifting with a smile.

“Hey now,” Austin interrupted, “I ain’t toleratin’ any of that sweet-talk toward my sister.” His tone was light-hearted, but you could hear a trace of protectiveness underneath it.

You realized at that moment that that was the very first time Arthur had actually called you any sort of endearment right in front of your brother. Now that you thought about it, he’d never even called you honey when your brother was in the same room. Why was that?

Austin was right back to being his usual self again. “Alright, then. I’m going to take the horses out on their run. I’ll be back in about an hour or so.” He gave Arthur a dark look. “Don’t you dare try anythin’ with my sister, mister.”

Arthur’s dark brows furrowed, his expression amused at the fact that Austin was daring to talk to him like that, but he seemed to understand. Austin was just acting as a normal brother would. “Don’t you worry, feller,” he said, his voice matter-of-fact, “Your sister’s safe with me.”

Austin gave him a quizzical look, “She’d better be. Otherwise, I know she has her shotgun to take you out if I ain’t here.”

Arthur looked over at you and winked. His unexpected action made you blush, and you looked down at your feet to avoid those piercing blue eyes.

Austin nodded, as if he was sure he’d made his point. He came over to give you a hug, “I’ll be back soon, alright, Y/N?” Then he whispered in your ear. “Make sure he don’t try nothin’ stupid.”

You smirked at his words, even after a whole month Austin still had his doubts sometimes. You returned his hug, “Alright, Austin. Take care of Lily and stay safe.”

Since Butch was loyal to Austin, your brother often rode on Lily whenever he took them for a ride, knowing the war horse would follow him anywhere. It was better than tying poor Lily up to a rope and leading her with another horse like some kind of wild animal.

“You know I will. I’ll see you soon.” Austin gave you a peck on the forehead and headed towards the stables, waving over his shoulder. You watched as your brother climbed onto Lily and lead the horses away, taking them down a beaten path and disappearing into the thick woods.

“Alright,” Arthur huffed, “let’s get to it,” He grinned at you and started walking over to the stream with the fishing rod. You followed closely behind with the bucket. As you both reached the waterline, you set the bucket down on the large stump and sat down on the thick fallen log next to it.

Arthur knelt to the ground by the stump and reached into the bucket, pulling out a few lures and two cans of bait along with a can-opener. You watched as he got to work on setting everything up, tightening up the fishing line in the reel and attaching one of the lures to the end, his fingers working flawlessly. He made it look so easy.

“So, how long you been fishin’, Arthur?” You asked as he opened one of the cans with the small metal tool.

He looked up from his work briefly, “I was taught at a young age,” he answered, “Hosea showed me how.”

“Hosea? Who’s he?”

Arthur seemed to still, stopping what he was doing. Then a dark shadow went over his eyes as he appeared to get lost in thought.

“He was like a father to me.” He finally said, his voice nearly hoarse, “Took me in when I was about fourteen, raised me ever since.” He lowered his head, “I lost him not that long ago.”

You brought a hand up to your mouth, suddenly feeling terrible for having asked about the man. Arthur looked so pained now. “I’m so sorry, Arthur.”

He just gave a weak smile. “It’s fine,” was all he said for a long while, but his voice sounded far from sincere. “Don’t worry about it. What’s done is done.”

You gave Arthur a sympathetic look as he pulled some bait from the can and started attaching it to the lure. “I’m know he’s looking down on you, Arthur. I’m sure he’s proud of you,” you said, trying to comfort him. You didn’t know who Hosea was, but the man had raised Arthur from a child. And having seen the kind of man Arthur was assured you that Hosea had no doubt a good person.

Arthur looked up at you and gave a soft smile. “Thanks, honey.” After a long moment he went back to work on completing the task of connecting the bait to the lure.

“Okay,” He grunted once he was finished, standing back up to his feet, “We’re ready now.”

He walked over to the waterline. Bringing the rod over his shoulder, he swung the thing forward, and the lure travelled swiftly through the air, landing onto the water’s surface in the middle of the wide stream.

He playing and yanking at the fishing pole, cranking the reel every so often.

“What are you doing?” You asked, curious to his small actions.

“What d’ya mean?” He didn’t look back at you, his mind completely focused on his task. “Yankin’ the fishin’ line?”

You nodded, “Does that attract the fish?”

He looked over his shoulder at you then, a look of surprise on his face, “So Austin was tellin’ the truth, then. You don’t know how to fish?”

You lowered your head in embarrassment, shaking it back and forth in a ‘no.’

Arthur laughed, and his reaction surprised you. Why would that be funny? You narrowed your eyes, slightly offended.

“C’mere,” he motioned with one of his hands at you, prompting you to come forward.

You hesitated for a few seconds, but then you stood up from the log and walked over until you were standing next to his tall form. Arthur reeled in the line til the lure was withdrawn from the water.

“Here, take this,” he said. He held out the fishing rod to you, and you took it with a shaky hand. It was a little heavier than it looked, and you almost dropped it, but thankfully you managed to get a good grip on it with both of your hands.

“Alright,” Arthur said. “Stand right here.” He stood behind you and grabbed both your shoulders with his big hands, positioning you right at the edge of the water. His closeness astonished you. Did he even realize the blush that was starting to form on your face? Did he even register how close he truly was, or was his mind just on the fishing lesson?

“Now,” he said, his deep drawl firm, “Once you get a good stance, you’re gonna throw that fishin’ lure into the water.” He stood at your side then and imitated the action from earlier, moving his arms to show you how to throw the line properly. “Now once you toss it, ya need to let go of the reel so that it can unravel.

With slight hesitation and a lot of confusion, you held up the rod and snapped it forward, but you forgot to let go of the reel, causing the line to whip around and catch you on your thigh. “Ouch!” You shouted, grabbing at the lure that was now stuck on your pant leg.

“You alright?” Arthur sounded concerned as he walked around you to look at the hook now snagged in the cloth.

“Yes,” you said, catching your breath, “it just pinched me a little.”

“Here,” Arthur reached out with his hands and worked the hook loose. “There we go.”

You gave him a grateful smile as he stepped back around you. “Thank you.”

He chuckled. “Least I can do, wanna try again?”

You thought about it then nodded, smiling at him. “Sure, why not?” You tried a few more times, all the while Arthur mimicking how to throw the lure in an effort to help. Your throws were weak at first, but on your fifth attempt you finally managed to get a good toss and the lure flew through the air, landing out in the middle of the wide stream. “I did it!” You shouted happily.

Arthur smiled, “That you did, honey.” He came to stand behind you. “Now, you gotta pull at the fishin rod to get a fish’s attention. It won’t give a damn about the lure otherwise. You need to make the lure act like prey just asking to be eatin’.”

You nodded, then started yanking at the pole.

“Not so hard, now,” Arthur said with a chuckle, placing a hand on your wrist. “You gotta do it in short bursts. Little twitches here and there.” You did as he said. “There ya go, darlin’. Now, slowly start bringin’ the line back in, the lure will look like a small fish swimmin’ across the surface.”

You cranked the reel slowly, bringing the line in at a snail’s pace.

Suddenly the lure was yanked hard.

“You got one!” Arthur shouted.

“What do I do?” You asked frantically.

“Calm down, just start pullin’ the rod and reel that big sucker in.”

You struggled to pull but the fish was fighting you hard. How on Earth did such a small creature have so much strength? Arthur reached over to help you pull the rod back and you started reeling the fish in until it was at the shoreline. Finally you yanked it out of the water.

“You got yourself a Muskie there, honey!” Arthur exclaimed, his grin wide, his face glowing as if he were proud of you.

“I did it!” You said happily, all but ecstatic. Arthur helped you to undo the hook from the fish’s mouth and placed the fish into the large bucket.

“Good job,” Arthur said as he came back over. He reached out and patted you hard on the shoulder with his big hand. “Your first fish, and a big feller at that.”

You smiled widely, “That was so exciting, I want to try that again!”

Arthur chuckled, “Go for it, honey. You need my help?”

You thought about it. Arthur had used up quite a bit of energy helping you haul in that fish, and truth be told you actually wanted him to take a break. You shook your head. “No, Arthur, I got this one. Do me a favor?”

He looked at you expectantly.

“Go sit over on that log and rest for a bit.”

He closed his eyes in a huff, “Why did I get the feelin’ you were gonna tell me somethin’ like that?”

You gave him another one of your playful sad looks to try and appeal to him, “Please, Arthur?”

He let out a long, loud sigh. “Fine, honey. I’ll watch you on this one.” His words sounded stoic, not thrilled at all to be left out of the action. But he did as you asked, going over to sit on the large fallen log.

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Arthur had known the woman was going to say something along the lines of ‘you need to rest.’ Dammit, he’d been hearing those words endlessly over the last month.

And honestly, why did he listen to her? He wondered that as he sat down on the thick log, facing Y/N so he was able to watch her fish. As he watched her throw the lure back out to the stream, he remembered the answer.

She was persistent, absolutely ruthless when it came to his health. Whenever he protested, she never let up.

Y/N cared about him, he had no doubt in his mind about that.

He couldn’t help himself as he took in her form, appreciating her body again. Damn, she was beautiful, he thought. A strong woman with a strong mind. He needed a woman like that, someone who wasn’t afraid to back down from him.

As she reeled in the lure and threw it out again, he thought about what she’d said to him earlier, about everything she’d gone through. The hardship she endured from having lost her mother to outlaws, moving away and living out here off the land with her brother.

He wondered who her father was. She’d said that she had lived on a plantation, and he wondered which one, if he would recognize it if she told him.

He smiled as he heard her curse under her breath.

Y/N was a damn god-send, he thought. She had saved his life, with no thought or worry for her own needs.

He needed to find a way to thank her. He wanted to help her in some way, to repay her somehow.

Arthur scratched at the underside of his jaw with the back of his thumb, thinking about how he could possibly repay her for all she had done.

He smiled to himself as he thought about her telling him about the white lily, her favorite flower, how much it meant to her. She’d said that they couldn’t grow in this area and that she couldn’t grow any for herself.

He knew what they looked like, maybe he could —

Arthur froze, a single thought sitting in his head. He immediately opened his satchel and pulled out his journal, opening it to another blank page. Without a second’s hesitation he began to sketch.

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You huffed, starting to get irritated at the lack of any fish biting. You started to think that you were damn lucky in getting that other fish, let alone such a massive one. After about twenty minutes you reeled the line in, done for the time being. Fishing was clearly fun, but only when there were actual fish.

Turning around you walked back over to Arthur, sitting down on the log next to him and propping the fishing rod up against it. He was giving you a strange look, his blue eyes almost sparkling. “What is it, Arthur?”

“I … ,” His voice sounded rough, his eyes still having that strange look. He opened his journal and tore out a single page with a drawing on it. “I thought you might like this, Y/N.” He handed the paper over to you and you took it.

The sketch you saw instantly had your eyes nearly watering.

A white lily.

“Arthur … this is … ” You couldn’t find the words, feeling like you could barely breathe at the sight.

“This is so beautiful,” you finally breathed out. “Thank you.”

Emotion overcame you and you couldn’t control yourself as you suddenly reached up and laid a kiss on his cheek.

You pulled away to see Arthur’s stunned expression.

You were absolutely appalled at what you had just done. “I’m — I’m so sorry, Arthur, I didn’t mean … I — I don’t know what came over me ... I’ve never kissed anyone before.”

Those shining blue eyes glittered as he looked at you with amusement, a beautiful smile slowly lifting on his face. “Is that right, honey?”

Then with that he leaned in ... and placed a kiss on your lips.

— To Be Continued

#unshaken #unshaken part 6 #arthur morgan #rdr2 arthur #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x y/n #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #red dead #red dead redemption #red dead redemption imagine #red dead redemption fanfic #red dead fanfic #rdr2 fanfic #romance #drama #slow burn #love

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jornthur · 4 years ago

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“Unshaken” Chapter VI

Originally posted: March 29, 2020

Arthur Morgan x Reader, Slow-Burn Romance

(Art specially requested/Credit: @tylerzart)

Summary: You save a mysterious man who is dying on a mountain. Finding out he has Tuberculosis, you use your knowledge and skills with herbs and natural remedies to save him from death and help nurse him back to health. As he slowly starts to recover, you can’t help but wonder: Who is this man? Why had you found him the way that you did, beaten and ill? Only time, patience … and perhaps love … will tell.

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