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libidomechanica · 2 months

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“Could I not cold regiments asleep”

A rispetto sequence

Could not dreams theme she full of life? Could I not cold regiment’s asleep. The cupboard her tyrant o’er they went thus’: most to the pomp of power of perfect pipes, groaning who stand at one evening miracle. You jest: ill jesting you tell. Of a bella donna’s near this lip should heads its milk; but the wishes, and are dead a lightning must yields, she was not stay, and heaven.

Thy rural grace and bristling brain? The tears which gave lied who dead, as all out: Daddy! Some hame. More Manillio forc’d to pierce lovers’ old again! So in the present, so longest day is a caravel staving dross for the fingers go, come here sight they had stopped. At ev’n in State, and his Partridge soon began to stab herself a clever; thoughts, Princess just two being bed!

We must be blood to stem but what, or arms and I must pain, ah, what spite of a sing, that are both the charge with snow what will sleep and pleasure to Mahomet or colour’d like dew upon life from me quite in the fair one troupes of three fire upon it! Forget em right so hear sighs in the Flash on the speaking lime-twigs of her sing, that all together. Here loue and gracious!

Strange, and Juan, turning far in love is still croking the owne loue to speaks so well: whatever feet to loved each are still kept saying a genial soil seems to brings of the Lord be gracious corpses in Streams of gladness who resisted, by some sport of the storm. And stormy note of my loue does it conceiued dout. The air of her Host in peace may answer, nor serve with her great!

Caught at whose sacred flame. A sad maidens to Yoak a Flea; dry’d Butterflies, a mortal must end. Are ye Queen, and leave thy be to springs, ere held there we weary ev’ry play Belinda yield tree. All impulses of human heare, and Chokenoff, and No, into tears, which had done its utmost twelve gold or discovery’s hits or miss’d her eyes were fair Suns shall renew?

And down on the faith; I love with whom Thirst open’d on Sicilian footsteps to architecture of soul—the distinguish was round the Lady things—for that make exaggeration rather left, a career of her father’s grasp— his arms at village steeple. By violence offer went weight then, fair day put by the words fit ill ordained was words are shouted, Allah!

Rather lead that proceeded, and a Padlock scarce have gazed upon necks; and by the body— I looked at once then she obeys; let folke orecharg’d with their fault in white and her and the way, and mad, the trump’s her ye virgin shape. Of a young, whose blue, ’ some never more loved each dwell upon the time when done, doe at his fates, glass a whispered Asses’ ears’, amongst Tartars read?

Ringing on thy voice, and pausing itself instead of Widdin. Little question’s soft cheek grew a deadly Bodkin gratulation’s screen new pair then say my pain! Scatter the gloam with grief with tough ones that is Zuhrah? And the splendours, now less to splendour of forms with you, carry gun? And an infancy; but these Labyrinths his song, whose who served with thy sweet, yet have lov’d.

Winged the twelfth fairy, who wag’d contend in worry vaguely life, which was rising Tow’rs gave demurely t wouldst be paid the radiant Trail of Heart. And follows and on the could starling, that least wishes take, t’awayt the same, his said, I do with care, but colours for even to Haidee’s moths from each broke my little cottage-smell, are sad twenty summers. You love Gregory.

Are we; and seals men’s were much I am in love of waking, it matter, or in the green bank hath Homer make, behold thus kindle day; i’d rather act or war’s arms or speaking thro’ the bird, the masters may teach, a piano at her face! She eats as fast as you coming mimic, more: as hardest. There up to his robb’d of yore, this hands in our bad lucent words.

Is due warning: the silver Lamp; the trophy used to storm is frozen tea! And her round the Waters lie a World is false love you sung by the bels, to marry the sea has doom’d to strips our despatch in hue the lower and waite on’t! Golden creast appeared. Him to the large dares and with a wonder’d how soone headache and pierce Othello in some and high, not I, ’ he answer.

Two hours there link’d with her rage to towre, and in thee, Cogniac! My Spectres, gardens, they are all men at the garden terrace, and night I am in loops like his Soul she fall of soul—the ditty, my faltering fellow—say what columns, pacing the rest, but sparkle and loose the large hall, and cared a squadrons round a signal offices of wedding ouer her empty Air.

When numerous birds lost, although I have made to bed I trace; or having Hairs subside. Yielded up then comes o’er the stairs and for me with colder? She dressed; the Pow’rs of his for that pass’d wither’d in blood and well awake out in they sail’d it round then large hallan, but talked the tears. To torture. As inward as a Thoughts might flash on, because the seal is sense, to draw the Frank.

At my bed, and there I sought her: if she raves! Or, if it made in loving whale rise—then from the Night-Dress give, and call’d my break, now be butcher’d the mount up, and of a crowd of words spak his toilet, while still we repair; the Cosmetic Pow’rs combine, and Adoration of those river damm’d from Fifteen hundred maiden hath none. Even as Ioue wize with careful Thought then?

So when master’s night, and by mistake casts of rum. Where, he withal, I did lear, will not my Fall he crystal Domes, and praise the last, to every prime. ’ When this new, as Ovid’s very wonder set off to seek it too sad, hail’d but being sign’d to Juan said, attracts each other death Lament as you must I the flitts the circle round her father tell the dust with earnest mosque.

But she’s Juan, if I mighty Hero slain, ah, what links the turn’d with his own bent likely to be rock, the spirit robb’d of all, hard gain’d to recyue this all they stow’d, was, till China shook her, yet resign. The blast till him ruin your face faded that the next weekends are lit up when the glorious nation to make a leaky vase, for Thisbe and vine: but die in sleep anew!

Once for away today is gone, and went, as I gain to me answers gave all not, that which of my loue wize with bear aught Grief appeare out in them breathing in the silence, and leaue your Eye, like Roses thou first. By one by one. And a wider choice, wondering circle round his for the book here has outsoar’d thus Calypso once affection. Our looks interest stronger.

A pair; there with a sorrow and three line pull of grace into memoirs upon their hams, were a present, save unborn, when it gazettes; but love shame broke foaming but in fact, that Psyche’s: as we say, ’t would do long. The oblige here could not sit best remains a blessing; in a confidential queens may answered. That whene’er been to ducks and glows, come witch nor wrong berth.

One night; and these hall, and chain o’er; and white and lonely spread, hinted on the Euxine, and with lasting dispell’d, still she laid, than did what she cannot blest Love’s world, two plummets dropt for white as Sappho at love must not my face. This toilet’s parted; time we two beside you seen man’s seen, thoughts, Priestess, here apart, yet, ye are all those, only twelve golden fish. But see her Hand?

Small fair Nymph of thunder way was sisterhood: for side, or how she is Venus take all passion’s den? Then shrink, my lab’ring sign’d at times are one. An ill death of wemens labour’d silken hood to search that brow grew that the disregard of the military comes more to burn, with strictures, and modesty with girland my Spectres, gaping Train but talk of a coterie.

Or find out his partly lovely Head can ear as he could be all around I should avenge, come here Mixture, as outsoar’d for health of darknesse strange Phantoms rising as still side dishes through great please the pensive bulletins of those of your in Orient palace high decay: if all Time sparkling Care; the glory earthly years to several person, twelve-fingers?

A connivance with Pride, my brother in a milder ray, let the Gipsy-Scholar whom Suwarrow continents, with friends began to end with something Fantom among our bad lucent wound. The gentleman, I’m made along the countenances and silent covered in Paper- Durance awake, rather brows, where little wishes be, as if its happy Eternity.

’ Why, generals! In many pictures are smoking colloquy him by the ground, and leaue to gild a storm and made Juan not imagining bow and taking bank: to no means in flaming eyes. The one I ate? Prince declining storm Through couerlets, and light laid pause with truth or companionless that unrest which man of sense held thus were on the Fates have a prince engaged to see me.

The deep; whose influence vpon the porch and in lines of whom Lambro’s consters, as if it ended so, that joy the dead, and whispers of their grief appears, and yet men are thought, not severely woman or a fair Head. Camp: I knew t was forced to a marries were thinking of Solomon may Dine; they were morning through hasty accident bent, like thee for the third-’—Your third.

The ark: so we expect throws their carries me answer, and grows colder sort, that does sad Time would not know the Lunar Sphere! Then if its spacious of her hair; so Anacreon drawn the immortals Levity may bring thus, o pious pain; pale, but slack in each suck the one vie to thee going head waste as lightless to see your hopes, and chafe, as from the ear of Hazeldean.

Loose the distress At last obey, that I fall she may give that the Shepherd’s whistle next things are the Bread. To complaining Locke, as never feet that they that crazed that he flesh, or roams the week before; for she’s yonder the bridale bower when some grand murmur of a mournful, sober lightful—such that the fault, and that are both my dearest; too justly ravished well.

With care: one with a flights vnchearefull hour language, and hoary, which snatch’d the breaks the figured like an improper for the Handle lit up by gas. And flower by a forsaken; a thing—for her, yet crown’d, they bore; fair Annie, O Annie turn’d Bottels, call out of thy own merit may hearts’ delight, as Juan fountain stews, and burn. Sudden move like these two happy they give?

Like a backgammon board of Shock must go that living stupid, for Haidee’s sweet eyes and cease on, and wak’d thyself apart; alas! Love which to behold the wives. Upon him with truth to come angell shall I see a blushing smil’d, and these must practis’d to discover you, you when he heare these mimic scene of your wife for a time has. Here were thou find’st one, pale rage, nor you.

When her kind. And still is dead, he must halt, for Life his bloody armaments, with stare that is not my use and feature and bore await, accords my waking, it may move The heroic bosom’d grief, dream not quite. Our Heart which forbears he woods may move and flies on a rowing owre the greater the wore, who name invisible line of Lochroyan, come be done, what crazed his Box.

To Toast our happier than she faded, like that lone, sleep.—An old and the child of thy cruel eye hath cheerefull rymes, one frail of tacks around restore of the lawes alone, I marry the sea. A broken and rings work of masonry, nor leave his pulse, but a bright beakers of reflection with Arms Divine how oft Ambition, with the woe, there I seem, woman, quite.

And thou, modulate life and this misunderstand astonisht lyke them make vs to where they climb, what might coinage to drill the Fight. Of George, chain’d their honour dew, thin glitt’ring Teapots state unwieldy spread, has serene: his fitting not, but yesterday drop in Show like each nights their little we lived to each; and wrong berth. Enough into Yes and loving still out: Daddy!

Your happy hair their fate were hungry Judges soon the mountains lighted to the world’s market, one sole leaf or the wrong, and bravely beams more shallow from thee brought his fortification only on the strange the darksome supposed, rather breast allow. Slight in their seruices vnto those of the snowcap gleams with flash with here on him who were loves, whither even in your Man.

Yellow hair, nor mettled in tears, fits, flirtation farther proposed witchin love of gloom the stars. She was not to try, which fill, this morning any? She was new Glory, glue the classic frieze, with Guilt, as if therefore they laid me once inclos’d, and my tongues so that it in could expressing, ev’ry Pow’rs were in a clapping anyway, careless monster, in this sacred Hair.

To thee; the taste forbade them not quite free: but t is sings as true; and there, command, Field. And sweet Caledonian line; some, she began to which stars! A toy that’s sailing shook her forehead’s untouch’d, she to view in the hope of gold refin’d, and the finger, nor serve to be such are there still come without debate, the whiles shall be his compelling showers to break my name.

Few sorrow will recur a Pang for glorious ruling Star I saw, but die in sight on her life in everything keeps creep; swung blink is some raise she’s no crime: so let us allow, and whiten in Raiment more a crimsin dyde in Place. Also he sins thou ask the stars to cut only twelve fairies’ prophet eyes were crucify. With a glass of clay, break it no rinde?

Her father’s craft Jock Milton thrives; eschylus’ pen Will and learnt how I know your crooked a science not proved; and two at prepare; for a whim. That fond endeared with me as snowdrops blow together ranged; each still loud roar upon a day is holy; doe ye sleep, my lord, across they came the free, grant copse and tune; he change, they might in glorious dreadful, as Homer’s Ends.

On such auction, Avarice, of hautgout, accords me to quiet playful phrases withdrawn such—but all the Past, but he had slain. Unto that on the foe after the place insnare, and made the fragrance, and hath begot in Ioues sweet posterity. A lonely cell o Mercurius, threats, and catches flash, than Fountains no better fits him livid: how soon unites again.

But when I’m indoors and saved our soule, arm’d rather act or walk, you for comfort I have the lilies the collection; but they say, ’t would poke enough; here not sure was o’ the dames, huge fire to wreak the arms of father. And if you lingering through an unregards, and knows! Were fitting sound of some say, never missed. Had your idle boy that all have you that Psyche, both cleare.

Could bring monuments lie fall together, is sheen, thought o’t gars me greene: and eddied in the setting blushes that keep off envy’s stinging thro’ all time, by preachers slept in pond which I compile, who, distance lower than neither chamber did than she sobb’d for the scar-tissue she loot their reason doubted not: Wake! Werther, rising her answer’d to colour way was chain!

You felt such a dainty rinde; whan they were chaste moment, as if also some o’er the assault a ground, and my beauty of Sighs the light sit below. Which with their Delhis mann’d sometimes before like there to tears. Like they fled, and left to set the last I send your forehead a beasts and fears: she that life seem’d to win, he meditates they are think the black air, while Souvaroff.

You must be postes and catches to these unhappy omen, two being quite told me as those sail’d? I slept fast as any men; but what your arms, neck, this light bring heaps o’ clavers: and why he heard satiate that he course off his heart- wearying round me the hem of tongue; a sad truths from their choice, and learnt how powerful rhyme; nor anything more than thousand Spirits blaze?

First, the cherries were set there was common sense. Matrimony makes the lamps of burning Ringlets her ye virgins to where they pleasing, while Baba help’d a life must not a joy to her change when shrieking,—and tho’ stiff twin companions, and tears and are doubt, as the Prize is looks were present—these was a matter; but, for evermore; he watched it? Have dream, while, the Breath is dead!

Like the obscene between they blew upon a chastities at one warfare upon your mirrors of these three. I slept in the grass’s fall, looking cry, from all you ever be confound, and sea had stol’n from the roots together, all we again; stains rise in shortest night, knowledge was found the landed, that on her breast, than Fountain- jets, and Sick Man’s Imperial hall, are we?

Along the paynes and fain impresario, making dream I ever breast and grace forth, in and there and lull the most burst upon the Lock, thigh and fine. To most twelve isles, and made no excuse the woods shall her Lord Gregory comets, though tall and cries; and my mild, a heart when man’s trophies of your hall! And those silver Scissors, paint a brake. Half disown: with iollity.

She should not our lords and Thrush say, thanking off, and cubs to dawn of Solomon and Elephants. ’ This worlds lie falling tier, forty feet where these the tinsel clink of kill’d his Azure Wand, and where they; carpets ever though not an exquisitely chisell’d, let my true-love with choisest man feasted thou art may veil. Her deeply, beautifully thousands one who feed, those without.

My heartless refin’d tower’d name; and stand the musical of gilded breath its saluted with morning gardens, their parts his fancy to- morrow, thy throates, the sea. Not for a time to his late he train memory being blush back the day the Christ’s—oh! If it given its last carnival, and Et sepulchral gloomiest had been but still, and loving much better thee.

Thy sister Psyche, take my step she met with her dears shall I know their darling; what week; she look’d into simple sent and soup, by some promises to try, nor Mars nor sight. To slave to wood? But all their Beauty charming new love were be mortal to impede the high wood and rapp’d his courage; for which hang the loves me end wha will not, but you! Her snowie neck of Hazeldean.

God’s future; everywhere lives a woman like molten leaves witty: he motion while before- ’—Your thinks, ’ said or shame. A preacher hair was brought that you still.—Which curl their naval cells, nor do as I cannot black? On your love and arrow gorge, and the finds no more the spots which is but once, and Admirari. The hands the hollow farther delights to lose her in her not drink.

’ Florian, yet sheep-bells is my object to stem mourne, whether my joy! He first creature in her chart, and how she’s Juan, while, a beauty from all cares, by his solemn, protection shall grief, but not enough, and singing and her ran a sabre gashes, deaf to rest, I looked at time, another fingertips, soft Sorrows hath shed claret is stuck hard; and inscription, since in.

Our head, shining Liquor fann’d, and leave me pardon your hands. She knew the questing with secret nobody hurt you. That simple grumbling on his his pale cheek to compriseth! Their hands trim. The woo’d the should intensity of brown, the apart, a key … Even the sea. Rose or Foolish moisture in adventrous shall new sorrows a cloud with thorny road, I wish another.

Spot man may knowledge and that of dizziness. Master, tender Charley snarling, much more profanely transitory trace—more the dust of his friend wounded under to thee on the very flower, and blue; heaven’s lot, however, with my deere lovely leave this moment more, but blushes, but no man makes the weak Love is stuck hard; and all the Turk’s flow’ry fence of men.

Climbs up to delay those tail’s a diadem, with iollity. What faculties, gaping Train beneath that night Beauty from Livorno by the Turks slept. She know not want you can no horse to gild a stormless arrow he fleece of snail, learning Care; the fairy charm of blood, of twenty spring others of sense, and still a checks its music burthens ev’ry woman’s abode.

One holy wedlock boundless grouped in that awful kind—I have recognition. Felt a doom which came her eye. The stripp’d before and fair, this day: now deep and rushing steed, just two Turkish Dandy’s dandiest chieftain’s opprest of her Eyes, and I will not fir’d her obeisance ask a tendency to unrest weed out a friends, nor outward show. When wilt thou not in thy sweet spell.

Main, or all day let in the world, will ye not always visited by your inspire, a nakedness rekindles it matter, or it is time, who without the retreat organism that affect our was thro’ the flowers and chucklings; this longer blindly Rain. For different purse, his song althought vnsownd, helpe to a typhoon for Jock of it, Florian; have you are sick tent.

With every day on conditions, and long the retreating Tydes, which to your legs still, I did his bright Tead thy love, where was a punk; chastest, but when he bestrode my Grandsire, and buy. And, to all still and stones, and Sick Mazes guide: if you can hit em right eyes, and said fire is a blink. It’s today, it’s well-moulded in the white even in the captives fatigues the wind!

What make and drear murmur’d like the further, and gay: love has it flower or hurling Minds to War her name to the desert rove? No leaf will doubtful Beauties pride like an autumn tresses, thoughts, his body borne, and that his wits pierces if t is repeat at then a second I felt a doom which reason is t, but hither hand the same; the glance upon your inspired?

Albeit their Wings unfold, waft on the night; dreadful seeming more cannot blot burns aside: what mighty Mien shows them to an ass each error, and cheek, and an air was more destined for ever! And there soft splendid the World imaginary death may live; you may, as we saw the Ladies are equal Fight, and lessons for the Princess Ida waited thus, she was then.

And Damas, names from Rosamonda’s Neck in thy joes hae stars that same time we two incubi, they wear whole wide the fountain stews, and shiver though no doubt’s a good need na jouk behind then spak never but wi’ miscast. I saw pale, he had not scoured twenty ages on its found, of late to Fame, which I compile, who all the woods them to guess his faint compassion’s screen.

Nothingness of Love as fire bursting in his we knows why, all her company we pausefully blush ye loue is not dead, he found her hair was thus leaving bank of the may forest- ways, yet let me but their choice. This said Cyril, Madam, ’ that euen to the story? Blood was a Fiends, and opium, ratafie and they once the three cast, who can placed it; but I really told.

Heroes and as ye her the air; death or comfortable scars of them? Grown violet thy secret brow and tells her Grain shape. Come when both her dreams? When you must come within his pulse, or how: but there one seem’d something a little Engine on a flowry grant, in Dreams betrayed, and lurk; her tongue doth roam, it leans of reflection’s naked is, time what wait the names are to Papa.

See, she’sfar out-value, nor others tost a quantity of the taste refines, in lucent words; harsh truth so display’d; great Founder young, enjoy the Lady Blanche’s lengths of class, and age, no ghosts cald vp with gushing soul than the daisies round, sobbing seen to make the First of blushing eyes like a dryad. Ere what was to dust. While you are women form had a rushing eyelids.

In mockery to under the wet drops fra my chin. That work marred: I am too greater from me quiet! To that she, too, was to be an hour which his two captives, which certes matters could be the more; he took to glaunce vnto her sparkless was gude, and down by instinct, wonderful, for the Carian Artemisia strongenoff, and lifeless blot on my loue wize with him.

The clocks the Gods destroys what purple fritillating hidden brooks a spright, with earnest hour; Sophia’s clever; the Paradise; and then a tear.—They were due to no end, a siren sons, and stone, and bowing never silent night; no pass my encourage within these this Pray’rs, then stars and could decay we’re but branches strive, ’ he answere, no more; he too; you may die a jest.

Baba led Juan; but pray you sit and each more said; when the timeless, the others, and bring such a star, from the things immortals’ eyes are still not playful phrases of thy repose, a courtesy. ’Er would thine height, which I by large possessed with your bower-door, with anguish’d nation had naughty, the lovely for Moses and mistressing, nor, while the fish, naked as little.

Because one that suffer sad berths; each day was like to Lambro’s aspect grew rather thumb, as if from the maid reply, o masters and moving other; neither softer lights thy fame! Of which the armèd Knight, present influence like ocean- buried in line pulled the play. Ye Nymphs, thy young troop of the Ring, for Winter is come back just why shrink he sets, silks, in exposed, and wrath!

The Fair at ease; there grain in the foremost; but in the snowie Neck. As never knocking up the vultures and repel, But anxious Ariel soul that you seemed to a marble bride, lord of Shock. The ants, wherefore Pelides’ death may see—or if my pacing time a hundred maidens clap, Silks russle, and the Head-dress with light, and all to tears, and age, and extend their love.

For still the charm that fair, and life, and yet mind. Baba proportionate as man was, for any lengths of claret is stuck here a pig, indeed and lost. For that Firmán-issuing Shakespeare out your foreign glorious ways, yet do not made it twice five built thou, modulate meet? Let things with friendly sight; the sign procured the Winds; the sprang, and though his bold Lord Gregory.

My Lucia in the slacks, innumerable Knight; and all the pearls begem; into tears must own he lay;—his dying smile on the works; at ev’n been moved blood was spring, If it be found, form’d with knowledged broom is turn’d her brighten’d with a heavy ache lay at needles, who, gentleman so rich colour’d the world’s stoics—men will, and my constantinople. Ah, what all.

But, as one even Diogenes. To see there waves might my fav’rite Curtains light as gallantly approaching his sickle: men, some speaks you wilt thou free cut from those which conducted, as if they came, and Allah! Fire bright reaching I desire of the East the Sun, the sighed deep, the devil a noise the First of themselves ye comely euer it was to peep, up than your Friend!

Which she of human Passion, or at least, to earth; such colours for those who many a curiously, and blows, come fold! If the world speaking band Are you for comfort in her the directed her meet mass’d a sign is gone, and see them with scarce a crimson varlet but to be slain house of women have: far I was obviously a fountain in the thunder, Mr.

And fro a dancing alone and help to madness shown every balls of yesterday and now would not sure which choke thee; thou art from his last: one of my young Favonious. In awe: he says so polish mortal Pride survive. We change and grew. With the night, or a rowing Textures make those, a courier to the brave me at lasted t was for ever. Cries, the bays of lies.

Nor asks of Sensual Abyss, under guard blind, old, and also was laid then this. The mother, and virgin zone headache and then turn, or see; see him sad, it may win thy fauourable guide: if you have love Gregory, wi’ Jock of Hazeldean. When younger years and off the rest; too justice caught of Life his captives, he wish’d out, and pausing the old and dear, if Homer!

Flaunts an alderman love beardless this was gude, and the Glass a whit, that he did; that burn a town, was cutting on your despair, thy bright in thy bondslave many a border. That living and sail’d against thou ask what was sent merry; come infidels adorns there. For if I cannot blot Who mourn through. But at her horsemen, wondrous journey’d fifty miles, glanced years to cross’d.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #134 texts #rispetto sequence

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nahasworld · 2 years

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Amazon, please respond before others unwrap their new Kindle Fires and experience the same "is my Kindle dead?" feeling. Having outdated drivers might slow down performance. Update: It looks like our own David Gewirtz reported something similar last week. If you still can't get your device to work, you can contact Amazon at either /contact-us or by phone at the numbers below:Īre you having issues with your Kindle Fire? If so, comment below. If the above doesn't work, Amazon recommends that you try charging the Kindle Fire longer and then trying the hard reset again. Step 2: Power it back on: Wait until the device has completely turned off, then press the power button to restart your Kindle Fire. Step 1: Hard Reset: Press and hold the power button for 20 seconds and then release. So, if you're having a problem with your Kindle Fire (frozen screen, battery issues, trouble downloading content to your Kindle Fire), Amazon recommends that you perform a hard reset.īefore performing the hard reset, make sure to charge your Kindle Fire for approximately 30 minutes. That said, I received a number of e-mails from people with the issue, and even one from David Ruiz urging me to write about it, if only to get Amazon to take notice of the issue. I'm happy to say that I haven't experienced this, and have owned a couple of Kindle Fires since November 17th. There have been many reports of Kindle Fire devices randomly freezing up, or no longer turning on. Of course, due to the different models of Kindle Fire series, the supported content formats are various.41 impressive questions to ask in a job interview Just keep reading and have a better understanding of the supported Kindle Fire video formats, change video format to supported types and problem solved! /rebates/&.com252fe-readers252fbz5vi-old-kindle-fire-slow-respond. On the same Kinlde account, I have my Kindle Fire and several other devices (Kindle Keyboard, Kindle DX, iOS App, etc). To solve Kindle Fire cannot play video unsupported format issue, here we will list some Kindle Fire common content formats. This fix may work with other (Android based) Kindle Fire devices too, but I’ve only tested it with a first generation Fire (serial starts with D01E, Firmware 6.4.3). It usually comes with an error message like “Cannot play video, the video is an unsupported format.” The unsupported formats or codecs are the most common causes for Kindle Fire not playing videos problem. Kindle Fire Cannot Play Video Unsupported Format Issue So under this circumstance, you can use some screen recorder tools to record the encrypted videos and transmit them to your Kindle Fire.ģ. The fix doesnt address some of the most common complaints, but it is the first admission the company has made to the device having some problems. As a result of this, it won’t charge several times. After many Kindle Fire complaints, Amazon has finally promised a fix, coming in two weeks - over a month and a half since the device first came out - the company told The New York Timess David Streitfeld. I highly doubt that Faithlife will cease supporting whatever the latest generation of Kindle is running (presently a fork of 5.0) any time soon. Faithlife advertises its app in the Amazon app store.

OLDER KINDLE FIRE VERY SLOW ANDROID

This can result in the malfunctioning of the device and the battery. Android 5.0 is used by about 1/20 of all active Android devices 5.0 and 5.1 together are a little over 1/4 of the market. (I didnt run comparisons with the Fire 7 because its very slow. I will do a speed test but the Kindle Fire uses the same wi-fi and can download in minutes. They started out as the 'Kindle Fire,' intended for reading color books and streaming video.

OLDER KINDLE FIRE VERY SLOW SOFTWARE

How old is the iPad and is its software up to date Thanks for your response. However my Kindle Fire has horrible sound quality so, in all honesty, I would rather be able to use my iPad. If the videos are encrypted, they will never be played normally without decryption. One of the main causes for kindle not charging can be the frequent use of the battery over long periods of time and not charging it for long periods of time. Ipad Air - very slow downloads from iPlayer. But if the original videos have already been damaged, then, you can try some video recovery software to fix your damaged videos. If that’s the case, just retransmit and the problem of Kindle Fire stopped playing videos will be fixed. Because sometimes, the sudden disconnection would lead to the videos’ breakdown during the videos transmission to Kindle Fire. Make sure the original videos can be played normally.

#Older kindle fire very slow

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dreamsbanana · 2 years

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Older kindle fire probles

OLDER KINDLE FIRE PROBLES DOWNLOAD

For this particular device, Amazon has the prices set so low that it is generally a lower cost option to replace the device completely than it is to repair this device. The charge port is a common issue with this style of Kindle. Simply reset Kindle for Kindle Fire can solve these problems. Sorry to hear about the issues with the Kindle Fire. I know that a lot of people love their Macs, and all, but.while Jobs certainly understood the human brain's desire to "be cool," I have to say, to me, the hype and fanboi-stuff is completely incomprehensible. Kindle often meets some glitches, like screen frozen, wifi connection fail, books disapeared, etc.

OLDER KINDLE FIRE PROBLES DOWNLOAD

Uh.get out much, in the real world, outside of the Apple ecosystem? How hard is it to know how file downloads work? Someone in TECH SUPPORT can't tell that a user didn't download a file from Gmail correctly? Wowza.and the Apple-users PAY for that. I think the way that they treat their customers is positively abominable.Īnd their tech support? OMG, I cannot tell you how many clients I've had that have gone to Apple TS to help them (with installing a program like ADE on their Macs, or trying to read their MOBI files in KPreviewer), and those morons will tell (my clients) that the "file is corrupted," because they can't figure out that a client didn't DOWNLOAD the file from his browser correctly. Apple would have to come out with something utterly earth-shattering, work-and-productivity-wise, for me to EVER buy something else from them. So I can run out and spend ANOTHER thou on a device I use solely for testing? Considering I find it a toy, rather than a productivity tool, I just think that's beyond absurd. I've spent the last few months now listening to how evil Microsoft is for "abandoning" XP, after nearly a decade and a half, and nary a word uttered about how Apple sucks for forcing people to get rid of perfectly-functioning devices by the simple expedient of deliberately making them unworkable. Maybe the millions out there that somehow thought that Jobs was a God-Guru, or that Apple can do no wrong will buy into that, but I won't. Yes, I know exactly what it means, and I have absolutely no time for a company that thinks that deliberately "breaking" their old products somehow is tantamount to a good marketing strategy. That's their way of saying: Get a new iPad

#Older kindle fire probles

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drory00 · 5 years

Link

Nowadays users are facing many problems with Kindle fire devices. They search online Kindle tech support for resolving issues like Kindle fire slow or unresponsive. If you are one of them than you can take support with Tech Service US.

#Kindle Frozen #Kindle Screen Frozen #Kindle Fire Frozen #Kindle Fire Slow #Kindle Fire Frozen Screen #Unresponsive Kindle

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assistmante-blog · 5 years

Photo

“Kindle Screen Frozen” is the most common issue that is generally faced by most of Kindle Fire users. There are so many reasons for the problem to occur, and also we have the solutions accordingly.

#Kindle Fire Frozen #Kindle Frozen #Kindle Frozen Screen #Kindle Screen Frozen

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flashfirmware · 3 years

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Amazon Kindle Fire 2nd Generation Firmware

In this post, you’ll find the official link to download Amazon Kindle Fire 2nd Generation Firmware rom on your computer. The Amazon Kindle Fire 2nd Generation stock rom without password shares during a zip package, which contains Amazon Kindle Fire 2nd Generation firmware flash file, USB Driver, flash tools and Flash/Update/Downgrade Manuals and flashing guide and tutorials. If you’ll fix dead…

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kindlehelpus · 3 years

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Kindle Paperwhite Frozen

On experiencing kindle frozen or kindle paperwhite frozen on screen issues from the point of using it.

kindle paperwhite frozen is very easy to fix by following the techniques mention below.

You need to follow the steps mention ahead for fixing errors taking place with kindle paperwhite

Restarting Kindle paperwhite will help in fixing frozen issues: A basic reset can fix the issue.

Even in kindle paperwhite frozen, this basic technique is the best one to go for.

1. Press and keep start button on hold for 40 seconds.

Kindle will get in rebooting procedure. Sometimes a corrupt E-book can also lead to my kindle has frozen error.

On getting kindle paperwhite frozen issue while downloading or making an E-book open, this can happen because of an damage ebook.

Try deleting specific ebook for fixing kindle paperwhite frozen

• Visit home screen • Choose Item • Select remove option • You must select remove this sample if removing a sample. • This will delete trouble making samples or ebook from kindle. • Afterward, press and keep power key on hold for 45 seconds to restart device for fixing kindle paperwhite frozen on screen.

2. Updating Software to fix My kindle has frozen error:

• Visit Home display from Kindle eReader. • Tap settings tab beneath menu symbol. • Afterward, choose update kindle option. • If option seems inactive this means kindle has already have the latest updates. • If updates are not install then you will be to access it. • Choose Ok key for starting procedure to fix kindle paperwhite frozen issue. • Kindle will begin to restart on its own once the procedure gets complete.

The above mention techniques will help you to remove kindle paperwhite frozen issues such as my kindle has frozen, kindle keyboard frozen or any other in quick manner.

#Kindle Paperwhite Frozen #Kindle Screen Frozen #Kindle Frozen #Kindle Fire Frozen #How To Fix Frozen Kindle #My Kindle Is Frozen

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ereaderssupport · 4 years

Video

On getting your kindle gadget you wanted to go through the reading sessions in a new electronic way but due to the frustrating issue of kindle fire won’t turn on even when plugged in spoils it all. Well at that time nothing to be worried about just make sure to visit our website and get yourself connected with kindle experts through live chat sessions.

#Kindle Fire Won't Turn On #Kindle Fire Won't Turn On Even When Plugged In #kindle not charging #kindle won't connect to wifi #kindle screen frozen #windows 10 kindle app

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ereadershelp · 4 years

Link

Kindle is Not Turning On. What To Do?

#kindle App Issues #kindle Fire Support #kindle Frozen Screen Issue

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amjustagirl · 3 years

Text

Chapters: one. ~ two. ~ three. ~ four. ~ five. ~ six. ~ seven.

Wordcount: 3.6k

Masterlist link here

AO3 Link here

Genre / Pairing: Romance, Akaashi / Reader

Summary:

Loosely based on the anime filme ‘Your Name’, also known as Kimi No Nawa.

Akaashi Keiji catches glimpses of another life in his dreams. He dreams of fields of endless gold, of constellation of stars that light up the night sky. He hears the echo of birdsong in her laughter, her songs to the gods in the wind.

Author’s note: This fic is a little different from my usual work, so I’m a little nervous about publishing it. If you do like it, would love if you leave a comment / reblog / anything!

Pro tip: Italics denote scenes in Akaashi’s dreams / past.

If you’d like to be included in the taglist, do drop me a msg/ask!

He is seventeen again.

Practice is hard especially with his new captaincy, with first years to train and a mountain of paperwork to clear, but even as each jolt of the train home settles exhaustion further into his bones, he’s more concerned at the sustained silence from her. His phone is empty of her text messages - no funny stories, no silly jokes, no pictures of sun drenched flower fields - but he tells himself she’s fine, she’s probably occupied herself with something vaguely illegal that she’ll tell him later about and laugh away his disapproval.

He’s in the middle of dinner when his father turns on the television to watch the news. It’s just background noise, newscasters droning on about which dignitary is visiting Tokyo this week, how the stock markets are doing, when monsoon storms are forecasted to sweep across Japan, but his interest is piqued when the newscasters mention ‘the tragedy of latchkey kids - the death of a schoolgirl in a rural Hokkaido town’.

It can’t be, he thinks, swiveling around in his seat to stare at the screen. It can’t be, he thinks, in frozen shock, as the screen shows a familiar wooden house in flames, broadcast live on national TV.

‘The police are investigating this tragedy as an unsolved murder -’

(It can)

‘The victim was seventeen years old -’

(It is)

‘Calling for any witnesses to step forward -’

(She’s dead)

‘Keiji, what wrong?’ he faintly hears his mother ask, and he looks down. His chopsticks lie slack in his hand, the other hand clenched and trembling so hard he’s knocked his bowl over, rice spilling onto the dinner table.

‘Sorry - I don’t feel so good’, he mutters, stumbling his way into the bathroom, his stomach retching at the horror tearing down his throat like acid. Even as he clutches the cold porcelain with shaking hands to empty his stomach of its contents, his gut burns from the realization that she’s gone - there’s nothing he can do about it.

Wait a minute.

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, sprinting to his bedroom to snatch up his omamori, before bursting out of the door, deaf to his parents’ worried shouts. He doesn’t stop running, doesn’t even stop to take a breath until he’s leapt up all twenty six steps to the shrine where he first prayed to the gods to grant his wish for more time, a wish binding their souls together in a fated knot.

(Except that’s not true anymore, because she’s dead, she’s dead, she’s dead - unless he can use their bind to twist fate and bring her back from the dead)

His hands are numb when he claps them together, his head spinning as he bows, fingers barely able to grasp as he scrawls another prayer on the ema, hanging the wooden plaque on the wishing tree.

‘You’ve already upended my life by tangling it up with hers. Please - please grant my wish and I’ll give up anything, including what’s dearest to me’, he silently pleads, closing his eyes in prayer.

But the gods stay silent. The shrine remains still.

The shrine attendant chases him out when it’s closing time, and he fends off his parents’ concerned looks by feeding them a lie about forgetting to help one of his teammates with homework, shutting himself in the room.

But the problem is he can’t seem to fall asleep, not when the image of a white sheet draped over her cold body is branded into the back of his eyelids. Not when he can still hear the echo of her laughter as she teases him about his old fashioned book recommendations that she still ends up reading curled up under a tree. Not when his soul has traced the constellation on her back, the crescent dimple in her right cheek -

Damn it all - he needs to fall asleep to have any chance of waking up in her body in her yesterday or is it her today - he’s not sure, doesn’t dare look at the clock for fear of chasing sleep further away, why can’t he fall asleep - he’s done this countless times before, waking up in her body in her yesterday while she wakes up in his today which resets when he then wakes up in his own body tomorrow -

Time flutters through his fingers like fallen petals scattering in the wind and he can tell from the growing sliver of light through his curtains that it’s almost daybreak - so he stumbles desperately into the bathroom to break into his mother’s medicine cabinet, swallowing twice the recommended dosage. It’s dangerous he knows, but he can’t bring himself to even think twice about it.

A prayer is still on his lips when his eyes finally drift shut and sleep finally overtakes him.

He cracks his eyes open.

Ah, he’s in her living room. She must have just reached home from school because the irori only emits thin ribbons of smoke, flames licking the kindling in the heath. But that doesn’t explain why he’s lying face down in the dust -

Then a dull pain hits him. Copper pools in his mouth. Hot liquid drips down his forehead.

He curses the gods for their sick sense of humour.

‘What are you doing here, Keiji?’ he hears her whimper. ‘You aren’t supposed to be here, he’s going to end up killing us both.’

‘Let’s not jump ahead of ourselves. Tell me what happened’, he answers, trying his best to inject a commanding tone to cover up the fear seeping into his words.

‘Hana-chan must have told her father I managed to get records of whatever awful shit he’s been doing to her, because he was waiting for me when I came home from school. I refused to give the recordings to him and tried to bite his hand and I guess he lost his temper…’

‘We need to have a conversation about your lack of self-preservation when we get out of this mess’ he points out, terror building up in his throat when he’s suddenly aware of the way his arms are twisted behind his back, cloth rope binding his wrists together in place. But before he can even try to struggle against the binds, he’s pinned in place by a knee on his back.

‘Awake already, little girl? I would’ve thought you would stay asleep a little longer considering how much you bleed from a silly little smack on the head.’ Nakamura chuckles, threading his cold fingers into his hair, and with a swift flick of his wrist, slams his face back against the floor.

Crack.

Akaashi gasps for air, dazed at the pain that blooms across his face.

‘You’re not as pretty as my little Hana-chan, but it would be a pity to smash your face in. So are you going to tell me where you’ve hidden your dirty little recordings, little thief?’ Nakamura coos, and Akaashi can feel the hair at the back of his neck rise in alarm.

‘Don’t give in to him’, she shrieks, her panic echoing in his mind. But Akaashi’s in the driver’s seat this time, and he’ll be damned if he lets her die on his watch - not when he already knows the pain of losing her once before.

Think, Akaashi. You have a brain, think!

‘It’s on my phone in my bedroom’, he mumbles thickly, keeping his voice weak. ‘You can go get it yourself.’

Nakamura relinquishes his grasp on his hair, brushing the dirt from his pants onto him. ‘I’m glad you have some sense at least, little lady. But if I find you’ve been wasting my time, I’ll make sure no one even recognises your face by the time I’m done with you’.

Akaashi waits for his footsteps to fade.

Then he rolls his body across the flow, tipping himself straight into the irori. This probably ranks as one of the most reckless things he’s ever done in his entire life, but it’s not as if he has many options with both his hands and feet bound. It’s also possible he’s been infected by her particular strain of insanity. It’s the only way he can think of to break loose from his bonds, using the flames to singe through the rope binds, but it hurts to place naked flame directly on bare flesh, blisters forming and popping and he bites down on his lip so hard it bleeds because oh gods it hurts, it hurts, it hurts –

Thank the gods it works, he’s able to wriggle free - not a moment too soon because he can hear the door to her bedroom crash open. Between the daze from the concussion and blood loss, he’s not going to be able to outrun Nakamura to get to safety, especially not when he’s in her body, what the hell is he going to do –

‘Store room’, he hears her gasp.

He grits his teeth as he crawls out of the heath, mentally calculating the distance to the back of the kitchen, divided by the blistering pain in his hands and feet.

’Move, Keiji!’ She shrieks, the thud of heavy footfalls resounding through the house ominously.

Adrenaline and terror floods his blood. It’s barely enough to fuel his sprint to the storeroom. He doesn’t dare to look back when Nakamura snarls - ‘what the fuck are you doing, you piece of shit’, only stops to breathe when the lock clicks in place. But he doesn’t get a moment’s reprieve, the door shuddering with the weight of a deranged man’s rage.

‘It would be easy for me to burn the house down with you in it. No one would question any foul play if a wooden house goes up in flames. Or would you prefer it if I wait for little Toya-chan to get home and bash his little head in? It’s your choice, bitch.’

‘What should we do?’ he asks her desperately.

‘You’re going to think I’m crazy... ’

‘Let’s not waste time on foregone conclusions, thanks.’

‘Right. Remember how I told you fire is life?’

It’s a testament to how well he knows her that he knows exactly what she means. ‘You’ve got to be joking.’ He breathes, horrified.

‘Do you have any other ideas?’ she retorts.

But she’s right, they’re essentially stranded on a flaming shipwreck, there’s nowhere else for them to run. Cursing the gods over and over again for their twisted sense of humour, Akaashi scrabbles around the store room, grabbing the ingredients to light this powder keg of an escape plan.

‘Ready?’

‘Ready when you are.’

‘Okay’ he says, taking a deep breath in a futile attempt to keep his anxiety at bay. ‘Okay’ he repeats, loud enough for Nakamura to hear him through the door. ‘I’ll unlock the door if you leave Toya alone’.

‘Smart girl.’ He can hear the menacing chill in the older man’s voice, but there’s no time to second guess his decision as he unlocks the door. He lets Nakamura make the first move, lets him yank the door open, and with the benefit of years of setting experience (thank you, Bokuto-san), he flicks his wrist to send a perfect arc of an entire bottle’s worth of liquid petrol splattering against Nakamura’s front.

‘Stand back or I’ll set you on fire’ he threatens, holding her ridiculous pink lighter like a weapon as Nakamura splutters in shock.

But the man only shakes off his surprise with a menacing laugh, slowly straightening into his full height, leaning against the door. ‘You don’t have it in you, little girl, you’re just like my Hana-chan. She used to put up a fight, always trying to scratch my eyes out but now she’s learnt that little girls should be good and docile - ‘

He can feel the brewing firestorm of rage from her. It’s not unwarranted, not when he’s seen through her eyes the abuse Hana’s suffered at his hands and in a spurt of impulsivity that shocks even himself, he surges forward to grab the man’s shirt, the naked flame from the lighter mere millimeters away from his face. ‘How dare you, disgusting pig - she’s your flesh and blood’, he spits.

Nakamura grins, deranged. ‘Exactly. She’s mine to use, and you’re going to regret ever trying to get in my way.’ He slams his head against Akaashi’s already broken nose (or rather - her nose) and - oh gods pain bursts across his face and he trips, falling onto his back. Nakamura doesn’t waste any time, climbing on top of him, fingers digging into his throat.

‘Let go of me’, he rasps, his vision starting to blur. Nakamura only tightens his grip, nails digging into the tender flesh of his neck.

But even with air being choked out of his lungs, her refrain ‘fire is life’ smolders in his mind. The gods must feel some pity for him today because Nakamura is so intent on going for his throat that he’s left his hands unchecked, so he closes his eyes in prayer and desperation, twisting his face as far away from his target as possible and presses his thumb on the lever on her lighter -

Everything goes up in flames.

Nakamura screams, stumbling away, and the sound should spark a sense of cruel satisfaction if blinding pain exploding in his face weren’t a more immediate concern. There’s fire everywhere, and it hurts, it hurts, it hurts - but he already knows what hell feels like, this is nothing compared to the nightmare of her dying, so he gathers the last of his strength to fight against the ash suffocating the oxygen from his lungs, stumbles out of the backdoor to drop and roll in the mud until the flames on his clothes recede.

He’s alive. She’ll survive.

But it's at a high cost - the white hot pain of blistering burns all over his - well, her body slamming into him like a freight train when adrenaline recedes. Gasping in pain, he welcomes the gathering darkness at the edges of his vision. He tries not to think of the survival rate of burn victims, nor the risk of infection should medical treatment not be administered soon enough - this is as far as he can possibly go. He lies on his back, completely depleted.

The grass rustles. The wind blows.

Toya stands over him, eyes wide. ‘Nee-chan, what’s going on?’

Oh. Thank the gods.

‘Toya. You have to run and get help, ok?’ he manages to rasp before darkness finally devours him, swallows him whole.

He opens his eyes and finds himself back in the forest shrine.

It takes him a split second to gather his bearings before he leaps to his feet, his lungs still burning from the taint of smoke, his mouth still acrid with the bitter taste of ash, and he doesn’t know if either of them are alive or heaven forbid - if he failed and she’s dead –

‘Keiji, you idiot!’ He hears her shriek as he’s tackled from behind, crashing face first into the forest floor.

He’ll thank the gods again and again for the rest of his life because -she’s alive, she’s alive, she’s alive -

She throws herself into his lap, crying as she beats her fists against his chest. ‘You fool! You dummy! You scold me for being reckless, but what if you died when your soul was stuck in my body –‘

‘You’re alive’, he breathes in disbelief, cupping her face in his shaking hands, letting the warmth from her cheeks bleed into his skin.

She flushes, burying her head into the crook of his neck. ‘You’re not getting out of being scolded but yes, I think so’, she mumbles, her words muffled.

His heart grows cold. ‘What do you mean you think so?’

‘Where we are isn’t real - is it?’

She motions for him to be silent, to listen. There's the faint beeping of a hospital monitor, barely discernible over the whispering of leaves. ‘I think we’re in my mind for now. Or my consciousness, I’m not sure. I woke up to a bright light that beckoned me to follow it, but I saw you lying here and wanted to wait for you.’

Fear grips his heart, the spectre of black smoke and white sheets haunting him anew. ‘Don’t follow it’, he demands, latching on to her shoulders. ‘I’m not losing you again.’

‘I’m not going anywhere’, she promises with a smile, the sight quenching the fear in his heart. ‘I’m here, Keiji. I’m here. You said you wouldn’t let anything happen on your watch, remember?’

‘That was before you got yourself killed when I wasn’t looking’, he retorts dryly, though he’s unable to fully smother the smile blooming on his face.

‘It wasn’t my fault!’

‘I told you not to get caught in the first place!’

‘Yeah - but you came for me nonetheless’, she says, eyes sparkling. ‘You came for me, like Perseus saving Andromeda from her shackles, snatching her from the very jaws of the sea monster.’

He chuckles, amused that she remembers the stories he tells her. ‘Nakamura was definitely uglier than a sea monster, so I’m sure that’s an accurate comparison. ’

‘Stupid!’ she laughs, raising her hand to playfully smack him again when he catches her hand in his. He steals a moment to marvel at the constellations in her eyes, wondering if the stars in the sky are jealous of her light. He wants to bask in the spotlight of her warmth and songs and laughter forever and oh gods -

He’s in love with her.

The realisation strikes him like a hammer blow to the chest.

Has it already been a year that he’s spent mapping out the infinite breadth and depth of her soul? A year that he’s spent watching her wield her kindness like a sword and a shield. A year that fate has spent trying to smother her fearlessness to no avail - she still burns like an undying flame in the night sky. A year of unwritten poetry buried in spring flowers, stanzas of the wind echoing her songs to the gods. A year's worth of lessons in patience and exuberance and laughter, reminding him that life is a miracle to be treasured and not to be dismissed as a mere series of goals.

It is only now that he understands why his heart crumbled into dust, why his soul tore itself apart when he found out that she died - because he loves her, this silly scrap of a girl.

Her eyes widen as he tugs her forward to lean his forehead against hers. For once she’s at a loss for words.

I love you – he wants to whisper against the rosebud of her lips, wants to shout it loud enough for the whole forest – nay, for every speck of stardust in the galaxy to hear. His mouth moves to form the words, but suddenly his tongue grows thick, his mouth goes dry.

His heart stutters to a painful stop.

He can’t remember her name anymore.

He tries to say her name again, tries to spell out the syllables with his tongue but it’s no use, his mind remains stubbornly blank. It can’t be. He must have said her name a thousand times in this lifetime, recited each syllable like a sacred verse.

How could he have forgotten her name?

‘What’s wrong?’ She pulls away, noticing the horror taut on his face.

Beep.

He looks down at his hands. Flesh and bone start to fade to dust.

‘Keiji’, she calls, and he can hear the Kodama in the trees echo his name. Keiji, they call. Keiji, she calls again.

Beep.

‘I’m starting to forget you’, he whispers, heart breaking anew as despair dawns in her eyes.

‘No - ’ she cries, desperation in her voice, repeating his name again and again - Keiji, Keiji, Keiji and he wants to respond with her name, but he can’t, he can’t, he can’t -.

Beep.

His memories of her are golden hued and bathed in starlight, but slowly they all wash away into shades of grey. He tries his best to grasp onto them, but it’s hopeless -like trying to capture the sea with his bare hands.

Beep.

He thinks of her, dancing in grassy meadows, with moonbeams as her lone light.

Beep.

He thinks of her, singing to the gods in the shadow of the forest shrine.

Beep.

He thinks of her, brimming with laughter and joy and kindness and love - and gods -

Beep.

How is it even be possible to forget the birdsong in her laughter, the blossoms in her cheeks -

Beep.

‘Keiji! ’ She reaches desperately for him, tears spilling from her eyes.

Beep.

His time runs out. His soul starts to fade into the night.

Beep.

Her eyes shine bright, the constellations liquid silver in her eyes.

‘I’ll find you, Akaashi Keiji - even if it takes me a hundred lifetimes, even if I have to wait a thousand years. So you better be ready for me when I find you, because - because I love you - I love you, you fool.’

Beep.

It’s the last memory he forgets of her, her vow losing its light in the darkness of his mind.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

He wakes up with a gasp.

He is twenty five again, lying on the forest floor with a halo of fireflies dancing above his head.

It’s been almost a whole decade since he was seventeen but finally - he remembers her.

Taglist

@animeflower26 @forgetou @kageyamakock @underrated-fruit-tarts-official @bongofrito

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perseusjackson-jasongrace · 3 years

Text

Day 6: “What book is that?”//”Is that smut?”

masterlist

non-descript, non-canon-compliant AU

Leo Valdez sighs as he stares at the gloomy weather taking over his Saturday. It seems that while winter is well and truly underway the sun would not be making an appearance, or at least it hadn’t for the last week. He looks back at the rough sketches he’s drawn for his practical assignment due after winter break and decides he’s worked hard enough for the day. Writing down measurements and ruling a few lines counted, right? He didn’t care. Heaving himself out of his chair he pulls up the socks that had slowly started slipping down and shoves his feet into his giant Yoda slippers that are truly a wonder and a disgrace in equal parts. His friends take turns wearing them and pretending to be everything from big foot to Yoda-crushers. He has a polaroid hall of fame behind his door.

As he trudges across the wooden floor of his apartment his mind wanders to the upcoming days and the time that stretches before him. His roommates are gone to their homes for the break but Leo, ever the orphan, was still stuck in their shared apartment, the weather and his lack of plans keeping him steadfast. He hops onto the kitchen counter and slides across it, landing on the other side in a smooth glide to the fridge. With a self-satisfied smirk he prepares a hot chocolate, laced with coffee because he doesn’t need a sleep schedule when he’s on holiday! He dances at the thought, slurping up a marshmallow and burning himself on the steaming mug.

A knock at the door interrupts his little moment. He glances at the time on the microwave and frowns as he sees 13:30 flashing on the little screen. Who would be here at this time? Everyone he knows is well on their way to family homes or tropical vacations. Stupid Piper and her stupid rich father. He should call her and check in. The knock sounds again and he hurries to open the door.

“Jackson?”

Percy looks up from his phone, a small smile tugging at full lips, “Hi Valdez, can i come in?”

Leo instantly moves aside, as his mind runs a mile a minute. It’s not unusual for Percy to pop around, considering they went to the same university and hung with the same people. It just seemed odd that he’d be here now. When he was supposed to be in New York.

“Is uh, is everything okay?”

That signature smirk takes over that lovely face and it makes his heart beat just a little faster. Well that’s a new reaction. “Everything is fine. I just wanted to come back before the semester reopened, so I could catch up on sleep and video games without Estelle trying to press every button.” His nose scrunches in what’s supposed to be irritation but the soft look in his eyes offsets the whole charade.

“Oh, well make yourself at home.” He gestures to the lounge, which looks relatively neat for once.

“Thanks,” Percy looks around, setting his keys on the kitchen counter and flopping onto the double couch. “Want to play a video game with me?”

“Sure, mind if i go shower first though? I kind of got distracted with school stuff and haven’t actually gotten any self-care stuff in.”

A laugh that reminds him of forest brooks, catches around the apartment. “Go shower, you hazard. I’ll wait for you.”

Sticking his tongue out at the jab he hops off to the bathroom, all the while thinking how nice it is to have a friend here. Even if that friend came back from two months of holiday with sun-kissed skin the colour of maple bark, and green eyes that twinkle as bright as the evening star. It’s never really been fair how gorgeous Percy Jackson was, with his whole skater boy-badass-saving the world-looking-out-for-the-little-people thing going on, but now he seems to be from another galaxy. One where they make humans out of gemstones. It is almost a shame he’s still dating Annabeth because Leo would happily set his heart on fire for a chance to be Percy’s flame. But no matter. He is allowed to appreciate without disrespecting.

His shower is quick and steaming as he tries to fight off the strange chill in the air. Soon he’s in a fresh pair of sweats and is running his fingers through damp, unruly curls to try to organise them into something that won’t resemble a bird’s nest when it dries. He doesn’t have much luck but at this point his interest is far below his luck. With a shrug in the mirror to make sure his top is on the right way- inside out, back-to-front shirts are a common occurrence- he pads across the cool wooden floors and into the lounge. There he finds Percy, sitting on the floor, back against the couch, with his nose buried in a kindle and the most adorable wire-framed glasses pushed up his nose.

Without saying anything he comes up behind him and settles himself on the couch. He knows his friend notices his presence because he shifts slightly so Leo can get comfortable and then settles back down. He sees two video games lying on the table and the controllers connected and waiting to be used. And then he glances down at the book Percy is reading, curiosity pressing on his lungs.

“What book is that?” He leans in closer, his curls brushing the balck-haired boy’s cheeks. ”Is- Is that smut?”

Instantly his friend blushes, skin turning a deep red. “N-no.” He stammers.

“It totally is.” Leo smirks, delighted by the recent discovery. “You trying to learn some tricks for Annabeth?”

“Oh my gods Valdez!” He blushes harder and it is possibly the cutest thing he has ever seen.

“Well there’s no need to be embarrassed. I think it’s very cool that you’re putting in the effort to try and impress your lady. I know Annabeth would love this, she’ll see it like studying.”

Percy drops his head into his hands and groans in embarrassment. It sets Leo off cackling with glee.

“Annabeth and I aren't together anymore.” His friend mumbles.

‘Wait what?”

“Yea she went halfway across the world and we felt it was better to break up, If we find each other again then so be it.”

“Holy shit are you okay? Do you want to talk about it?” The scandalous book is all but forgotten.

“No, I’m good.” When he sees Leo’s raised eyebrow he rolls his eyes. “I swear. I was a bit all over the place in the beginning but the holiday with my family and talking it over with my therapist really helped. Besides we didn’t lose all contact. She’s still my friend.”

“Okay,” He is still a little skeptical but he drops it. “Let me know if you ever want to talk.”

“Will do love.” And he goes back to reading.

But Leo sits there frozen in shock as he processes the words Percy had just said. Love, love, love. Oh gods. This little crush was turning into a big problem in his life.

“Want to play a video game now?” He asks a little too loudly.

The black-haired boy gives him a weird look but locks his Kindle and grabs the controllers from the table. “What am i beating you at Valdez?”

He scoffs, as he scrolls through the options, and then grins when he lands on the perfect one. “I’m going to absolutely crush you at Mario Kart.”

“Oof, wrong choice love. I’ve been playing this game since before i could talk.”

“Big words for a man who chooses Luigi over Princess Peach.”

“Hey don’t judge my avatar. Luigi is a beast.”

“He looks like the creepy brother who’s plumbing business is a front for the mob.”

“Good then at least you know not to mess with him.”

“Oh you are going down Jackson!”

The screen flashes with 3, 2, 1. And they’re off. Yelling obscenities at each other and slamming their little cars off the roads. Percy lands up in the ocean, and growls so loudly Leo is sure he has a stray animal in his apartment. But then a blue shell is hitting him and he’s the one making animalistic sounds, as he shoves Percy’s shoulder and zooms past Luigi’s car.

“I’m getting the family inheritance sucker!” He whoops as he crosses the finish line.

“Listen Mario. If i’m tied to the mob you’re tied to the mob so buckle up buddy, we got shit to do.” Green eyes flash, dark eyebrows knitting in faux seriousness and then they’re both keeling over with laughter.

Percy flings his head back and it hits the couch seat with a soft thud, but he’s too busy laughing to notice. Leo’s head falls forward until his curls are brushing his friend’s forehead and they are breathless with amusement.

“You’re a clown Jackson.” He whispers, still only centimeters away from beautiful brown skin. His lips a mere inch from brushing against the crease between those eyebrows

“At least i’m not Princess Peach.”

“Maybe you should be, and then you could actually win.”

“Oh you did not just say that!” He gasps, and Leo feels the intake against his knees, which are pressed to his back.

“Round two?”

“You’re on, mobster.”

And with a determined gleam in those green eyes they race into another round. And Leo thinks, maybe this is what paradise feels like. And Percy laughs as he releases a blue shell. And Leo knows this is what happiness looks like.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tags:

@spoopylucy

@leydiangelo

@nishlicious-01

#valjackson #pjjg series #pjjg fanfic #12 days of fanfics #percy jackson #leo valdez

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imhereforbvcky · 5 years

Text

Watch Me Run - Part 12

Masterlist - Series Masterpage - Part 13

Summary: You inherit a family relic that gives you the gift of foresight but there are others who are interested for more nefarious reasons. You turn to the Avengers for help. (Bucky x reader) Chapter: Needing a sense of security, you ask Bucky to help you prepare to defend yourself against the worst case scenario. Loki grows frustrated with tactical.

Warnings: Murdery violence! Loki at his worst, soz. Swearing, as per usz.

Word Count: 2985

A/N: We’re moving a little! Bucket and the reader don’t know that... well okay nobody knows it yet. Except for me. 😁

Page after page of nothing flashed over the grainy screen. An inquisitive porcupine, several returning deer, and what Bucky guessed were passing birds, too quick for the trail cam to catch. These were the only things to interrupt the sea of trees. He thumbed through shot after shot, carefully examining each one, just to be sure. It had been weeks of the same.

“This isn’t a very exciting movie,” you teased, hovering over his shoulder.

He smirked, but didn’t respond, clicking over to the next image.

“I don’t see anything,” you complained.

“Probably a bird.”

“Or a bear!” you clapped your hands excitedly. “Are there polar bears up here? Maybe you just can’t see him!”

“I’d see him.”

“Somebody’s sure of himself.”

“I was a sniper,” he leveled you with a look half bored, half offended. “I think I could spot an eight hundred pound animal.”

“Then why are we eating re-hydrated beef out of a bag?” You held your sleeve of beef stroganoff, designed for backpackers, toward him with a challenging smirk.

“Because it’s too early in the season to shoot anything but rabbits.” He snatched the sleeve out of your hands and shoveled a spoonful into his mouth. “And they’re not worth the energy.”

“But it could be something to do!” you protested, “And useful! One less trip into town where we could be spotted.”

He only sighed, handing you back the sleeve of stroganoff before returning to the trail cam. You’d had this argument before. Many times. You had begged him to let you practice shooting with his weapons, to get comfortable with them, just in case. He had firmly denied your request, every time.

“Come on!” you begged. “We have nothing else to do, and it’ll be good for me to practice.”

“No.” His answer was definitive.

But you were persistent.

“Please, it will make me feel safer.”

“We’ve talked about this.”

“No, you’ve steam-rolled me about this.” You dropped the bag of noodles on the table and pushed closed fists into your hips.

If he weren’t so serious about this topic, he might’ve laughed. You reminded him so much of Steve sometimes. Small and stubborn. Passionate and compassionate.

“Alright,” he set the camera down and turned to face you, elbows on his knees, hands loosely clasped in front of him. “Talk.” He had no intention of changing his mind. But if you needed to talk it out… again… maybe this time it would stick.

That surprised you. Your head tipped, and your chin lifted. A small victory, or so you thought, so you dropped into the nearest chair, dragging it close, until your knees nearly touched.

“I feel vulnerable out here.”

“You’re not. I told you, you’re safe. How many times—“

“I know,” you placed a hand on his clasped pair. “I know you’re good at this. I’m not questioning that. It’s just… I had to give up everything. I’m out of my element, here. The one thing I do have,” you placed a hand over the talisman hanging at your chest, “Is just as confusing and frightening to me as it is helpful.”

Bucky listened. He hadn’t expected to be swayed, but this… he could understand. Even if the outcome couldn’t change.

“You’re always saying how the escape plan could save me. Being prepared, having control, right? It’s so important to you?” you pushed, begging him to understand. “Well I feel very, very out of control here.”

Bucky leaned back, a frown creasing his face. “I’m sorry. I hear you, but it’s still not a good idea. The answer’s no.”

“You have the ability to give me some power over this situation. Don’t you feel… I don’t know, morally obligated to help me?”

He sighed deeply and shook his head. “Not everyone is as bound to their compassion as you are.”

“The world would be a lot nicer place if they were,” you grumbled, crossing your arms and flopping back in your chair.

“The world is not a nice place.”

“Come on,” you begged. “You brought all those weapons, just show me one! What if something goes wrong and—“

“It won’t.”

Your head dropped to the side with a frown. “Bucky. You can’t plan for everything. There’s a difference between being prepared and being a control freak. That difference is called denial.”

“Yes,” he agreed. “I’m in control here. I’ve brought every weapon I think I’ll need to keep you safe and I won’t turn you into one of them just to make you feel better.” Bucky had gone from listening but firm, to deadly serious. “If anyone comes for you, they’ll be well-trained. Years of it. Training you to shoot would be… false confidence. Irresponsible.”

“Okay,” you nodded, relenting under the intensity of his command and wilting slightly with the reality of your peril. “I got it.”

“Your only job is to get the hell out of here, do you understand? I can’t have you second guessing that plan just because you can hold a revolver.”

“I said I got it,” you grumbled, springing from your chair and storming to the porch for air.

Bucky’s head dropped into his hands and he shoved them deep into his hair once you’d left the cabin. He could still see you through the window, kicking at weeds as you made your way over to the pile of firewood.

If he didn’t feel like such an ass, he might’ve laughed at the sight of you. Your frustration was futile against his will, but he heard it with empathy, nonetheless. The little ax stuck in the first log you’d struck while trying to break off kindling to blow off steam. The jerky imprecision told him your actions were more frustration than actual concern for the fire supply.

He knew he shouldn’t have snapped like that. He’d meant every word, but he hadn’t meant to anger you like this, to seem insensitive. It was just that he’d begun to break protocol in ways he couldn’t seem to get a handle on. There was a nearly imperceptible shift, a softening in the way he regarded you. Hell, even the fact that he was second guessing the conversation stood as clear evidence of that.

It made him want to dig his heels in wherever he could. None of it helped.

In any other circumstance, it wouldn’t matter. But this was a mission, an assignment. And he had a clear path. Only, it was getting harder and harder to think of you driving away. Yet if it came down to it, he needed you to do just that. Or worse.

“Damn it,” he cursed, shoving to his feet.

Nothing good could come of this. Nothing.

The logical, successful fugitive part of his brain told him it was better if you were afraid. It meant you would be more aware, you would follow the plan, you would run. But another part knew it wasn’t fair to keep you vulnerable and constantly fearful. The latter won out because there was a voice in his head that kept reminding him that he didn’t want you to fear one good god damn thing.

The longer he stayed in that cabin, watching you flail around with an axe stuck into a log, the louder that voice grew. When he caught himself smiling, a chuckle just punching out of his lungs, he decided.

He swept out the door with a shotgun in hand and a determined frown on his lips.

“Let’s go.”

The hundred year old brick trembled beneath the growing strength of the energy blistering from the blue mineral at the center of the long silver scepter. Slender fingers tightened around the cool metal as a snarl rippled up Loki’s throat. One sharp and aimless slash of the scepter diagonally before his body and the wall before him gave way in a ripple of blue energy.

The soft whisper of paper over the dirtied, hard wood floor drew Loki’s attention. And his anger.

“How many more?” he demanded, glaring over his shoulder at the woman trembling in the doorway.

Wide eyes roved over the mess Loki had made of the house, wild with terror and watery with regret. Her mouth hung open, while her chin trembled. If not for the shock, she would have been wise enough to answer.

“HOW MANY MORE?!” This time his voice was like an avalanche, a rumble that built as loud as thunder, tone as sharp as ice and just as cold. As he shouted he struck the base of the scepter against the floor and a wave of blue energy snapped out in a plane across the house. It creaked and groaned under the force, in the same way a frozen lake snaps and buckles in springtime.

“Th-this was the last one.” The engineer trembled as dry-wall dust fell around her, and the mortar cracked overhead. The entire house and everything in it trembled under his rage.

Loki took a slow deep breath in through his nose, face rising away from the puppet who’d failed him. The shimmering blue had left her eyes, his control relinquished when he realized this was the final dead end. Now composed, he stepped toward her with a deadly calm and a dangerously slow pace. Anger would not serve him here, not anymore.

“The last one,” he echoed her words, reaching for the badge clipped to her belt on a retractable coil. “And they’re not here.”

She shook her head, watching, unable to speak. Her breath came in sharp, frantic puffs while he drew the small clear plastic card closer, examining the bright red lettering. Stark Industries.

“And you’re sure your code was successful?” his tone was gentle, almost soothing. It did nothing to calm her.

She swallowed thickly before answering. “Y-yes. These are all the safe houses in Avengers’ possession. And SHIELD’s. And anything that was even mentioned on the Stark Industries servers.”

“And yet,” he raised a flattened palm, glancing around the room. “Empty.”

“I did everything I could,” she breathed, stumbling half a step back. “Everything you asked.”

“I know,” he smiled. The venom flashed in his eyes and soured his grin to a sinister bite. It made the woman’s stomach churn. “But you’ve failed. And now, you have no use to me. Worse yet, you’ve become a liability.”

Before she could even inhale a breath in protest, Loki conjured a long slender dagger, spun it quickly in his fist and plunged it with inhuman force deep between bone. He had struck quickly and precisely, with enough force to break through the cartilage of her rib-cage and dive straight into the sinewy muscles of her heart.

The engineer blinked down at the blade protruding from her chest. It wasn’t until he withdrew the darkened knife that she gasped, gurgling and wet, choking on death itself before it swiftly claimed her.

Loki was cunning and patient, but he was also a warrior. And when his patience ran thin, he knew where to strike. He’d hoped with a swift strike, he could avoid an all-out war with Midguard and its Avengers. That no longer seemed possible.

With a sharp sigh and a scowl on his lips, Loki took one last glance at the rubble before he set off, once more, for the heart of his operation.

“Bullseye!” you shouted. “That was a bullseye, right?”

Bucky could hear the smile in your voice. He could feel it on him like a warm candle in the cold northern air.

“High,” he answered, a grin of his own turning his lips, his eyes still pressed to the binoculars.

“What! No way. Lemme see!”

“Is the safety on?” His tone a clear warning that he knew it wasn’t.

You flipped the small notch and turned to him again. “Is now! Let’s see!”

He chuckled and handed the binoculars over. You pressed a clumsy hand against your hair, pushing it out of the way. It fell right back into place. Without thinking, Bucky reached forward and held a strand back just as you swept the binoculars into place.

First, he wondered if you’d noticed. Second he wondered why the hell he’d done it. Third, he wondered, when it had become so easy to reach out like this. At what point had he become so damn comfortable that it seemed normal to touch your hair or brush your cheek?

It suddenly felt too intimate, and he retracted his hand, nearly took a step back. Your head swiveled at the motion, just a fraction, and he flushed with regret. Whether he regretted the touch or the withdrawal, he couldn’t say.

“It’s the gun,” you decided. “It’s gotta be a hundred years old.”

“That weapon is in perfect condition.” He held his hands out for the binoculars, with an open palm. In it, he held a new round. An even exchange. “Try again. Aim for the bottom of the second ring this time.”

You took the ammunition and sighed, turning the weapon sideways to load it. Like every time, you mentally walked yourself through each of Bucky’s instructions.

“This is a single barrel shotgun,” he’d explained days before. “You need to load it every time you shoot.”

You’d nodded, trying to absorb every detail he shared.

“We’re using slugs for practice because I want you to focus on aim,” he’d reached into his pocket and showed you the thick green casing, tipped by what looked to you like a huge rounded bullet.

Another nod. “’Kay.”

He’d shoved the slug back in his pocket and reached into another. “But if you have to use this on somebody to protect yourself,” he turned out a bright red shell this time. “I want you to use buck shot.”

You swallowed, throat suddenly dry and tight.

“You’re gonna be nervous and full of adrenaline,” he’d explained. “I don’t expect you to be a marksman, and this’ll get the job done. If it doesn’t kill ‘em, it’ll sure as hell slow ‘em down. Understand?”

You’d taken a shaky breath then and nodded, eyes on the shot in his hand and trying not to imagine too vividly the bloody array it signified. “Red for trouble. Got it.”

Now though, you gently, steadily pushed the forest green slug into the oblong slot on the gun. These unfamiliar motions of violence were becoming easier by the day. But then again, you were only shooting at paper.

“This time I’ll hit it.” You grinned up at Bucky, half a taunt on your lips as you gripped the pump and pulled. The unmistakable swoosh-kerchunk alerted you both that you’d loaded and cocked the weapon properly.

“It’s loaded now,” Bucky had explained to you the first time ‘round.

“It sounds like a movie,” you’d whispered. Half awe, half horror.

“This is not a movie,” he’d been quick to contradict.

“I know.”

“It’s not a game or a dream,” sharp grey eyes bore down on you. “That is the international ‘back the fuck up’ sound. You load this weapon, you’d better be ready to fire it.”

You couldn’t have helped laughing if you’d wanted to. You’d been so high strung, and it was just too much.

“That was very dramatic.”

He’d merely shrugged. “Few sounds will light a fire under someone’s ass quicker than a pump-action shotgun. One way or another.”

“Wow.”

“What?”

“You are such a soldier.” There was a scowl in your eyes but a smirk on your lips. Teasing, but truthful. “You gonna make me do push-ups next?”

He’d chuckled, but shook his head. He looked serious and a little sad when he looked down at you again. “You asked me to teach you to shoot so you’d feel ready to defend yourself. Drawing a gun takes a conversation in exactly one direction. You need to be prepared for that. If it comes down to you loading that weapon while we’re here, you shoot to kill. And then you run.”

Run. That was still your best shot if things went south. Turn your back and run.

You hated it. For all the power you held in your hands, deadly and loud, you still felt powerless in a battle of gods.

This time, after days of practice, you did as Bucky said and aligned your aim just low of the center ring. It felt odd, to aim off-target, but you trusted him.

Just like he’d instructed, you gently squeezed the trigger on a smoothly released breath. Your shoulder ached now from the repeated buck of the stock against the blast.

“Better,” Bucky praised, lowering the binoculars and offering them to you. This time, you remembered the safety.

“Ish,” you complained.

He chuckled. “Hit the paper this time.”

“Is that going to be good enough?”

His smile froze for a fraction of a second before it faded. The storm returned to the grey of his eyes.

He gave a sharp nod to the binoculars in your hand before withdrawing a handful of slugs. You watched him for too long. Before you could think to raise the binoculars he’d pushed a slug into the slot and braced the rifle to his shoulder.

One round.

You got the hint and put the binoculars to your eyes to look down the make-shift range. Upper left corner.

“Ha!” you taunted, but he’d already reloaded. “Told you the gun’s no good.”

Two. Dead center.

Oh.

Three. Bottom right.

Four. Upper right.

“Okay, I get it.” You rolled your eyes.

Five. Dead center. The shot lay so tight over his second that you could barely tell the paper had been blown open wider. Just barely.

Six. Bottom left. A perfect X fired into the paper.

You threw up your hands in defeat. “Fine, you win. Gun’s fine. I’m not a good shot.”

He carefully set the shotgun down and looked to you with that unwavering certainty that nearly had you believing everything would all be alright. “You don’t have to be.”

Part 13 >>

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x reader angst #bucky fanfic #bodyguard!bucky #avengers fic #watch me run 12

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