#elve has lost their marbles

[elvearryn]

IS LITERALLY NO ONE ELSE FREAKING OUT ABOIT THE NEW BSD ART?

#fyolai #fyolai REAL #bungou gay dogs #bsd #bungo stray dogs manga #elve has lost their marbles #fuck fuck fuck #bungou stray dogs fyodor #bsd nikolai

[mynahx3]

For Her, His Heart Yearns

Hello everyone!  This is Part 1 out of 2 of my Knight! Nanami x Queen!Female! Reader at 4.2k words (0-0) This is done in collaboration with @kentopedia collab, Love Through the Ages Hope you like Part 1, Part 2 will be done shortly! I haven’t written in a bit so any feedback is welcomed. Enjoy lovelies <;3 Will have mature themes such as violence and death. Lowkey a slowburn x mutual pining. Different ruling structure cause it's fantasy lol. Reader is aged around 25-30 Nanami is aged around 30-35

Chapter 1

In your life, duty was something you had to always uphold. Sacrifice anything and everything for it. This is what you were taught; the very essence of it is ingrained in your brain. Things were the way they were for hundreds of years, with the women in your position always completing what needed to be done. As the queen, you made it your purpose to be a person worthy of the throne. Nothing less than perfection was expected of you by your family and peers. The entire kingdom praises the very ground you stood upon. A heavy weight was on your shoulders, one you carried with dignity and grace. 

In spite of your attempts to delay it, it was time for marriage. One to build political relationships and strengthen the kingdom. Known across the land as a beauty, kind yet stern when needed, blessed with a brilliant mind along with your looks. It was no surprise you had many courting options, suitors from far and wide came to court you. You knew that your choice would have far-reaching consequences. The future of the kingdom rested on your decision and you were determined to choose wisely. Even so, every suitor had been rejected, much to the dismay of your father. From the elves to the dwarves, no one was deemed worthy, for your eye has already been caught by someone. 

Sitting on your throne next to your father, you frowned, looking at yet another asking for your hand. This one is old enough to be your grandfather. An expression of boredom is clear on your face; your eyes are looking over the court in front of you. Nobles looked upon the royal family with gleaming eyes, each interested in your decision. The grand halls of the throne room are littered with marble, gold, and paintings that line the walls. Paintings that depicted the history of your kingdom. 

Tales of the dragons who hoarded treasures and of knights saving the land. The most known tale of the white robed mage and first king at the center, the very start of your kingdom. The two had found the legendary Stone of Laztierite, a stone of which not much is known other than its ability to give powerful magic abilities. That was when humanity gained an upper hand over the evil magical beings that reigned over them. Together, with the mage’s magic and the king’s mighty army, they used the stone to effectively seal the evil beings into the dark world. This resulted in the stone disappearing to be found once more, as the rumor goes.

After the war, the white robed mage and first king married, founding the Aitrerus Kingdom, which has reigned over the land for centuries, unifying humanity and magical beings together. At times, the evil still escaped, but it was rare. When it did, it corrupted the minds of anyone it touched. The most affected were dragons and their worshippers, who still ruled over some lands. Lands to which no one ventured due to their heinous actions and beliefs. They were forsaken, no other kingdom interacted with them. Centuries later, humans and magical beings lived in peace, now only fighting over land and politics. The stone lost to time; not one soul knew of its whereabouts now.

Twirling a strand of your hair around your finger, a sigh came from your lips at your thoughts. Those tales were surely false, no magic pebble saved the day you thought with a yawn. Today was yet another day of failed proposals, and your father was equally frustrated. You couldn’t wait to end the day; your back was sore from sitting for so long. The plush, comfortable bed and sheets are calling to you, eager to be done with the uncomfortable corset digging into your ribs. While you no doubt looked exquisite, as your handmaidens always made sure you do, you yearned to be in your simple nightgown with your hair cleaned. Now you were dressed in the finest of silks, a deep blue dress with white lacing, and jewels around your neck and ears. An armored chest plate over your dress, dipped in silver and encrusted with more gems, is a good combination of fashion and protection. You couldn't wait to remove your heavy armor and relax in the comfort of your own room

As the suitors continued to plead their cases, you couldn't help but wonder if you would ever find someone who truly understood you. The weight of your father's expectations and the pressure of finding a suitable match weighed heavily on your shoulders. You couldn't shake the feeling that maybe true love was just a fairy tale. Getting lost in thought, you didn’t realize your father dismissed everyone early, seeing the exhaustion in you. Your father turns to you from his seat next to the throne, a sulk on his usually joyful face, footsteps sounding off as everyone left. 

"You need to start taking this seriously," he said sternly. "Your older brother is off in the gods'  know where, doing what he pleases. I won't be around forever to help make these decisions for you." The weight of his words settled in your chest, and you knew that the pressure to find a suitable match was only going to increase. He had only stepped down from the throne due to the sudden passing of your mother when you were fifthteen. It happened during the birth of their next daughter who was stillborn.  She was the love of his life, the grief of losing both at the same time caused him too much pain to continue ruling. 

"I understand, father." You replied, your voice meek, a far cry from the back talk you gave him constantly over the years. Reaching out, he lovingly rubs your hand, eyes just like yours but sadder, dimmer. His hands are slightly wrinkled now from his age, another reminder to you of the importance of your future marriage. 

"You are my only daughter, and I want to see you happy and successful," he said softly. "I will support you in finding the right partner, but ultimately, the decision is yours to make, my sweet flower." With a heavy heart, you nodded in agreement, knowing that the future of your family's legacy rested on your shoulders.

With that, he takes his leave, sending a warm smile to you. Alone in the vast room you lose yourself in your mind once more as you gaze off at nothing in particular. A light tap on your shoulder jolts you to attention. Looking to the side where it came from, you see your knight, Kento Nanami.

He is from a loyal noble family that guarded the royals for hundreds of years, sworn at your birth to protect you when he was only five years old. He stood broad and tall with blonde hair; it was styled neatly, framing his face with warm chocolate eyes, stern like always. It was a wonder he wasn't married yet. The stained glass windows behind him cast him in a soft, ethereal light, adding to his aura of strength and nobility.

"You're going to make your face stay like that, Sir Nanami." You smiled in a teasing tone at him, leaning up to poke his nose. The two of you are quite fond of each other.

He chuckled softly, a rare sight from the stoic knight. "I cannot help but be serious when it comes to your safety, my lady," he replied with a hint of warmth in his voice. The bond between you two was unbreakable, built on years of trust and companionship. 

Getting up, you pat your dress down, taming the wrinkles that have set into the fabric. Without a hitch, Nanami walks by your side, making your way to your room. Going through the many halls, the windows were open to let in the spring air. Smells of honeysuckle and jasmine were flowing with the light breeze. Your little cousins and other children of servants chasing each other with laughs of joy.

The castle was immaculate, with servants running around to maintain it. Each sent you a small smile as they ran by. Normally they would have to curtsey, but you didn’t care for the formalities all that much. Something you got from your father as he is a kind man—too kind at times. He always made sure the servants were treated with respect and fairness, setting an example for you to follow as you grew up. As you reached your room, Nanami waited at your door like normal. Rolling your eyes, you pull him by the collar of his chest plate and into your room. 

"Come have tea with me!" You demand, letting go of him, moving to sit at your table set on the balcony. The sunset casts a golden glow over your room, and the sky is painted in hues of blue, pink, and orange. “I had them bring your favorite tonight.”

Sitting across from you, he poured the drinks into the fine cups. The silence was enjoyed between the two of you with the calming tea. Your balcony gave a beautiful kingdom view from your room always gives you joy. Hills and valleys were filled with flowers that were blooming. The town within the walls is as lively as ever; sounds of laughter and happiness are normal occurrences. Your kingdom was a peaceful one for centuries. As the night grew darker, the sound of the crickets filled the air, creating a peaceful atmosphere. Nanami's presence always brought a sense of calm and comfort to your evenings.

“Your father was awfully restless today.” He broke the silence, looking over at you with soft eyes, recognizing the stress you had over today. 

“He wants grandbabies in his old age.” You laugh, finishing the tea, rubbing your temple. “He wants to go live off the coast, away from this drama, but it may be years before I find someone."

"You'll find someone you think is right when the time comes." He assured, leaning over to take your hand, squeezing it gently. Your smile growing at his kind action, squeezing his hand back; his soft moments were only for your eyes to see. “You deserve to find love, my lady. Be loved just as you give it . Everything you do is for your kingdom and loved ones. Is there a reason you think you do not deserve it?”

Your breath halts in your throat, and words stick as you try to speak. The look in his eyes clearly asks for more; it makes your stomach have butterflies. Looking at Nanami, you thought the moonlight made him look even more handsome. His chiseled jaw and cheekbones were accentuated. With a tint on your cheeks, you turn from his gaze. Taking your hand from his, you miss the way he winces a little. 

"Yes, yes. I'll surely find true love, just as my parents did." You laugh, dismissing his question with a wave of your hand, sarcasm dripping from your voice. Ignoring the pain in your own heart you felt at the action, the two of you knew there were feelings growing; neither of you felt it was right to confess. Teetering on the edge of something more each day but both of you were too scared to take the plunge into the unknown. Too scared to get hurt more than anything. 

“Your majesty. You are more than worthy; any man or woman would be lucky.” He tells you, taking his hand back, his eyes unwavering as he keeps eye contact. The tension between you two was palpable, the unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. It was clear that neither of you was ready to confront the truth of your feelings. You smile meekly, shaking your head to get up from your chair. 

“I appreciate your kind words, but I should head to bed. The hour is awfully late.” You dismiss, moving to ring the bell for your maids to help you change. 

“As you wish, please rest well tonight.” He gets up, taking your hand to kiss the back of it before he leaves. A twinkle in his dark eyes at your flushed face.

Now comfortable, you lay in your plush bed, free of the tight corset and suffocating layers. As tired as you were earlier, you couldn't help but stay awake, thoughts of him flooding your mind. The moonlight filtering through the curtains illuminated the room, casting a soft glow on your face. The weight of unspoken words lingered, creating a bittersweet ache in your chest. Sleep eventually comes to you as you drift off into dreams filled with his presence, a smile tugging at your lips. The night passes slowly, the memories of the evening replaying in your mind like a cherished melody.

Nanami retreats to his chambers after checking everything is in order, trying to stay busy while his mind races. Images of you run through his mind—how you admired the flowers in the gardens and when you sit upon the throne with your subjects. How you acted was like day and night at times: rigid with people you weren't fond of but then sweet to those you cherished. Your beauty glowed even when you didn't know someone was watching. He found it funny how you would puff your cheeks out in frustration when struggling with a new hobby or when your book turned sour. How kind and playful you were to your cousins and nephews, always playing with them when you could. Not caring when they dirtied your expensive dresses.

Changing for bed, he settled down, expressing a slight regret at his actions tonight with a sigh. His heart is torn between his duty to protect you and his own desires, unsure of how to navigate the complexities of his emotions. As he laid in bed, the soft glow of the moonlight illuminates his conflicted expression, a silent witness to the inner turmoil he grapples with.  

The peace of the night is broken by the sound of shrill screams that wakes you with a shock. The sound of fighting is going on outside your door. Sitting up in bed, you shake in fear, moving quickly for your sword displayed over your fireplace. You pause, listening intently for any clue as to what is happening outside. With a racing heart, you steel yourself for whatever danger may come your way. With your sword pointed at the door, you quickly slip on a pair of riding boots you happened to have out and prepare yourself for the fight to come. Breathe halted as the fighting died down and you heard footsteps approaching your door. 

With adrenaline coursing through your veins, you brace yourself for the unknown threat that awaits on the other side, your hands shaking as you hold the blade. While trained, you were rarely put in real danger thanks to Nanami at your side constantly. Taking a deep breath to calm your nerves, ready to strike down whoever it may be, raising it up just as they open the door. Relief filled your veins as you recognized the blonde head of hair entering your room. Blood was painted across his white dress shirt, dripping down his own sword. He wore casual clothes, black slacks, and a white shirt with a ruffled collar, having just woken up as well.

"Kento?" You called out in confusion, stepping closer to him and pointing your sword down. He didn't respond, making his way to you with haste, looking over your form for any wounds. Seeing him seemed to have broken down any walls you made, the stress of the situation coming down. You dropped your sword, wrapping your arms around him in relief, feeling the tension leave your body as he held you close. 

"I'm here." His voice was smooth and calm. He hugged you tightly, minding his sword as he did. More screams come from the hallway, making him go back to attention. Letting you go, he grabbed your black cloak nearby from the coat post. Putting it over you, he cupped your shaking face gently with one warm, calloused hand, looking into your eyes with urgency. Thumb rubbing your cheekbone comfortingly, trying to ease the fear he saw in your teary eyes. His face was firm as always, with a level head on his shoulders from his experience. 

"We need to go. We don't have much time," Nanami urged. Without waiting for a response, he led you out of the room and into the night, his grip firm and reassuring. The seriousness in his eyes told you that whatever lay ahead was not to be taken lightly.

Going through the halls, you saw bodies of servants and knights alike, walls painted with their blood and viscera. Men who were not of your kingdom laid with them in black armor. This was clear from the red sigil on their chest, the sign of evil dragon worshipers. Hurriedly, he pulled you through the halls, passing the windows to the courtyard. Down below, it was pure disarray. Fires are going with more bodies on the ground. The knights of the kingdom were defending the castle with their lives. Luckily no one found you two as you made it to the stables safely. Tears welled in your eyes, stinging as they went down your face while he went to his horse. The smell of smoke and blood was overwhelming.

“Where’s my father?” You questioned him, pleading with him for answers. His silence only provided the answer you needed, knowing there was a slim chance of him making it. He was old and had his own faults, but he didn’t deserve this end. 

"I could only make it to you first. I'm sorry." He simply said, moving swiftly to get his white horse, helping you onto him. Getting on behind you, he grabbed the reins, snapping them sharply to ride off.

You both only made it over the hill before an arrow shot into his shoulder from behind. Making a grunt of pain, he looked over his shoulder at a group of men chasing on horseback. Ripping it out, he urged the horse to run faster. More arrows shot around before someone yelled at them to stop, saying they wanted the queen alive. Holding him tighter, you pressed your face against his back. He rode towards the dense forest ahead, wishing to lose them there. Just as you were near the forest line, a fireball was sent nearby, sending the horse flying. 

Coughing, you weakly propped yourself up on your hands, your vision blurry from hitting the ground so rough. Just over you was a dragon, smoke escaping from its sharp teeth, ruby-red eyes looking down. Its vast, inky black body blocks out the moon behind it. Worshippers move to surround you, whispering to each other in glee. Nanami lay nearby, attempting to stand. Blood came from his temple, dripping onto his face. His sword was on the ground in front of you. Grabbing it, you pointed it up with a sharp glare, ready to defend yourself to the last moment, standing in front of Nanami. The dragon looked down at you in interest, with more of its goons surrounding you two.

“Run!” Nanami commanded, barking your name with such a harsh tone. It would've made you shake if it was different circumstances. His hair falling over his face as his eyes scanned over everyone. 

Making the first move, you strike down the closest assailant. Knowing how to fight was a skill every royal was taught. Swiftly move between them, dodging their attacks while sending your own. It helped that they wanted you alive; most of them were trying to grab you over kill you. Standing, Nanami defended you, grabbing a sword from a fallen worshiper nearby. As you both continued to fight off the dragon's goons, you felt a surge of adrenaline fueling your movements. Each strike and parry was executed with precision and determination. The odds may have been against you, but you were not going down without a fight.

Exhaustion soon caught up to you. Being unused to fighting this long, you panted for air. A few bodies lay at your feet dead. One of them saw an opportunity, striking you over the head while taking your blade from you, tossing it away. Falling to the ground with a grunt, you see the dragon land before you. It's sulfur smelling breath hitting your form. The heat of it makes you squint, struggling to stay awake. Nanami screamed your name and tried to run to you but was quickly stabbed through in his distraction, blood seeping from his mouth at the gaping wound in his abdomen. They pulled the blade out, making him fall to his knees. He could only watch as they gathered around you. His vision filled with black dots before passing out, the gushing blood made a pool in the grass under him. 

"Sleep, little queen." It grumbles, its voice is deep and ominous. The last thing you see before succumbing to unconsciousness is the dragon's red glowing eyes, filled with a mix of curiosity and malice. The world fades to black as you drift into a dreamless slumber, unsure of what fate awaits you next.

Later on, you awaken in a plush bed. Still wearing the blood splattered clothes from before, thankfully. Daylight came through the barred windows nearby. The chambers are warm, filled with fur along the floor and silk sheets. Dark reddish stone with almost black hardwood floors. The room is opulently decorated, intricate tapestries adorning the walls and a flickering blue fire in the hearth. Your head had a sharp pain from being hit from behind, making you move idly to sit up. Getting off the bed, you walk towards the door tentatively. As you reach for the doorknob, someone new opens the door, making you jump back. They wore a red cloak, their hood obscuring their faces from view.

“Master is glad you’ve awoken, he hopes the room pleases you.” They say, voice with a slight rasp to it, hands clasped together.

Not giving them a chance to talk further, you try to run past them, only to be slammed into the stone wall by an unseen force. Pain spikes from your head at the impact as you drop to the floor. You struggle to regain your balance, realizing that there is something unnatural about the servant. They walk towards you, shaking their head at that attempt. 

“That’s awfully rude.” They laugh cruelly. "Master doesn't like it when his guests try to leave."

"What do you want, mage?" You ask, glaring at them harshly, anger rushing through you as you bare your teeth to them. Their eyes gleam down at you, laughing a bit at the sight. “Where’s my knight?”

"You'll know soon enough," they say, harshly pulling you up by the arm and dragging you towards the door. Their sharp nails are almost piercing your flesh from their grip. Moving through the dark halls, several red cloaked people roamed about, none sparing either of you a glance. Their snake-like language is foreign to your ears. Moving deeper into the fortress, you go down many stairs, the smell of sulfur and rotten eggs only getting worse. Opening a door, they throw you in which almost makes you fall over. Catching yourself, you turn to hit the door. Letting out a frustrated yell, you kick at it, pounding it with your fist.

"Little queen has a bite to her." A deep voice calls out, a deep laugh from its throat, a voice you knew. Turning, you stood still, the very dragon laying in a giant heap of gold before you. The treasures of the world surround the beast in the cave structure.

"Surprised to see me, little one?" The dragon's red eyes glinted mischievously as it slowly rose to its feet, towering over you with a smirk. You realized then that escaping this fortress would be much more difficult than you had anticipated.

"What do you want?" You ask, voice firm. Surprising yourself at how you acted put together. Your blood rushing in your ears from your heart pounding.

The dragon's smirk widened, revealing sharp teeth as it replied, "Nothing big, dear. I just want to rule the lands."

You felt a chill run down your spine at his words, a cruel laugh coming from them. It vibrated your entire being from his size. 

"You see, little queen, I require something to do that." He continues, moving closer. "The blood of a white robed mage, to be exact."

A laugh slipped from your lips, your hand covering it from the outburst. It was unexpected for the dragon to believe in such fables. The dragon's eyes narrowed at your reaction, sensing your disbelief.

"Believe what you will, but the power of the white robed mage is real inside you," he growled, his tone deadly serious. Your heart raced as you realized the gravity of the situation, knowing that you must find a way to stop him before it's too late.

"What do you plan to do with me, beast?" You asked, standing your ground as it wrapped a tail around you. Not yet squeezing, but the threat was apparent. Leaning closer, you felt the hot breath of the dragon breathe down on you, its red eyes watching you.

"To devour you, my dear little queen," he explained, closing its eyes and pausing to take a whiff of you. "With you, I'll have all the power needed. No one can stop me as I gorge down on humanity. The blood of innocents will run down my throat."

You shivered at the thought of being devoured by the dragon, but you refused to show fear. With a defiant glare, you whispered, "You may have power over others, but you will never have power over me." The dragon's eyes narrowed in response, a hint of respect in its gaze as it considered your words.

"Oh? No groveling? No begging for mercy?" He chuckled. "Careful now. I may like you, little queen."

Hope you liked this! hehehehehe can't wait for the next chapter

ALSO dont fuck the dragon!!!!

#nanami kento x reader #jujutsu nanami #fantasy #kento nanami #nanami kento x y/n #nanami kento x you #jjk fluff #jjk angst #knight x queen #dragons #fantasy au #For Her His Heart Yearns

[catindabag]

Some extra “facts” and interesting weird info about a certain self proclaimed tiger lady house cat in my TBOSAS on Crack!AU.

One of my great THG buddies was asking about Tigris Snow and her weird cheese addiction. So I just had to write some things down before I write my next short take.

Tigris Snow is extremely addicted to cheese. She’s a certified cheese addict and “cheese thief” since the day she and her little cousin (Coryo) lost their marbles after the war ended.🧀

No one knows why, but little Tigris Snow claimed that the “cheese fairies” came to her in a dream one day and saved her and her little cousin from death and starvation.

Don’t worry. Crazy Coryo Snow doesn’t mind that his poor cousin is addicted to cheese and believes in some “mythical” cheese fairies. He has his own addictions (cabbages) and problems (Highbottom & Dr. Gaul) to worry about.

In truth, Coryo’s “mythical” cabbage deities and lima bean elves commanded him to ignore the “calling of the cheese” in order to stay pretty for his sugar daddy (Sejanus).

At least both of them inherited their family’s rare ability to bargain with wild animals. They can even converse with “sacred” rabid raccoons, poisonous snakes, and wild squirrels without getting attacked.

Meanwhile, the Creeds can talk to sewer rats and fat chinchillas for some reason.

And the Ravinstills have a rare ability to command an army of Bichon Frisé puppies to do their dirty jobs for them.

Sadly, Tigris was recently fired by Fabricia Whatnot for secretly stealing and eating expensive cheese cubes and cheddar chicken sandwiches all day.

She said that her cheese fairies made her do it. A food sacrifice must be made before the “hour of the owl” in order to satisfy the ancient cheese deities of the “Golden Arches” (McDonald’s) who once ruled Panem (America) even before it existed.

Moreover, our sweet tiger was actually sewing and hiding little cheese cubes inside some of the dresses on accident purpose without Fabricia noticing. Her co-workers didn’t even know about the cheese cubes until some unfortunate lady complained about the smell.😔

That’s why our dear Tigris Snow is currently unemployed and living her best happy-go-lucky “house cat” life in Corso.

But crazy unemployed Nero Price is her worst nightmare. He’s a self proclaimed werewolf who howls at the moon all night.

She’s a poor skinny cat and Price is a crazy werewolf who runs around the city (like a wild dog) looking for rabid raccoons and Peacekeepers to fight. So it’s better for the tiger to stay home with the Grandma’am.

At least her little cousin (Coryo) buys her the best cheese tarts and sugar sticks after school (using his rich sugar daddy’s money of course).

So yeah. Tigris Snow is now the NEET (not in education, employment or training) Cat Queen in this weird universe.

However, the Grandma’am doesn’t mind. She already has big plans with old Strabo Plinth to rule Panem from the shadows after Coryo marries into the Plinth family and their fortune.

And yes, our poor malnourish looking Cabbage Boy (Coryo) is actually the real breadwinner of the family.

Coryo marrying his long time sugar daddy boyfriend (Sejanus) was the best decision he and his family ever made.🥰

At least love-struck Sejanus Plinth was willing to pay for his poor sugar baby’s bills, rent, and groceries.

So after Coryo and Seji Pie got married and had their 24 (and more) babies, crazy cat auntie Tigris decided to finally settle down and became an official cheese merchant in Corso.

She (now) even has the time to talk to her mythical cheese fairy friends without being interrupted by evil Fabricia Whatnot.

She, along with Ma Plinth also like to spend old Strabo Plinth’s filthy money on the sweetest cheesecakes and weird looking clothing hangers every weekend.

Unfortunately, Ma Plinth is the only sane person who believes in Tigris Snow’s little cheese fairy friends.

Ma even joined Tigris Snow’s little secret organization called ✨The Cult of The Golden Arches✨. But to be fair, crazy Palmyra Monty and Festus Creed are the only other official members of her cult.

Too bad. Nobody could see those little cheese fairies except for Tigris and Coryo.

However, poor crazy Coryo likes to ignore his cousin’s mythical “beasts” because he claims that his cabbage deities and lima bean elves don’t want him to bow and worship some weird annoying creatures who divided the old world with their “Golden Arches” (McDonald’s).

Reject the cheese! Bow before the cabbage!

Yeah, I know. The poor Snow cousins are unashamedly crazy and delusional with their cheese fairies, ancient food deities, sacred animals, talking cabbages, and lima bean elves.😂

But don’t be sad. Our crazy cheese tiger is still into fashion and making clothes for her little cousin and his 24 (and more) gorgeous children with Sejanus.

But selling and eating cheese is her true passion and calling (in this life anyway).🧀

#tbosas #crack post #crackship #snowjanus #snowplinth #coriolanus snow #sejanus plinth #lucy gray baird #tigris snow #festus creed #felix ravinstill #cheese #cabbage #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #ballad of songbirds and snakes #president snow #thg #the hunger games #hunger games #suzanne collins #alternative universe #thg fandom #thg fanfiction #thg fic #thg incorrect quotes #tbosas fic #tbosas incorrect quotes #crack treated seriously #thg series #coriolanus x sejanus

[hollowwhisperings]

from the first time i saw film!Galadriel's sleeves, to my reading LOTR in its entirety, to my attempting and failing to watch the PJ films in full... Tolkien Elves really do just be Xianxia Immortals, don't they?

like. the sleeves. the elegance. the secluded realm of immortality. the sad youthful elderly people being sad. the long hair.

i once again Shake My Fist in the general direction of PJ for reinforcing the myth of whiteness - the older i get, the more frustrated i become by all these white dudes having used the dressings of asian cultures for their big films without casting so much as a single asian in a named, speaking role.

(George Lucas, I am talking about YOU)

I was genuinely surprised that, even with Crazy Rich Asians being successful as both a film & a Cultural Moment of "oh, shift, we really do just Not Cast Asians Ever don't we?" in the West... TROP didn't just go for making the elves asian. Like, chinese elves obviously but south asian elves and middle eastern ones too: that's where the costume designers all get their inspiration from, when not just doing the "Ambiguously European, Ambiguously Medieval" thing.

(obvs the elves are not *actually* chinese/indian/persian but the ACTORS would be)

then again, white people lost their marbles at the sight of one (1) black dwarf so idk the pandemic has zigzagged public opinion all over how western immigrants feel about other western immigrants/the ancestrally displaced.

how did my meme post about tolkien elves just being xianxia immortals end up being a bitter reminescence on racism & its direct effects on beloved & deeply flawed fantasy films.

#i consider star wars to be both fantasy and scifi #orientalism #tolkien elves #xianxia #the peter jackson adaptions #star wars #trop

[libidomechanica]

“The power the Piggy-wig stood by her nameless, or”

A ballad sequence

               I

I rose rules did stellaes green lack!     Here imbecile, will die. A heart, and like a corn and     mankincense; myrrh with the Sultan, and shrieks in the listens were     should ne’er couch: twas praction. Even years nodding beauty dwelt     with blame: the holy boon!

And a sunbeams came next, which bring     him, but faint, had seem’d twilight sweet when Noon is gold; this cutlass,     which perish’d in baby man, on the same way this arm,     fluttering came jasper woman? Soon was icy, and none     look’d! When you not on fades,

where white before till be hamburg.     She, to emerge and fear, till was to a raven. They saw     not last leaps in my cherish’d were into the ending,     reimbursed me where to get from suspicion from my spouse! And     a crowd. Over you, the

silence and drew it, settia meal.     Too fair of Lebanon, ah, his steals the floating you weary     link’d into fair-spaced his earth: her me charge my body     grows over-goes on on to the Pope makest Winterwreath,     then sit you recent no

far, banks of the map already     hand the error to witless Luther. Soft blood to say thigh     and the way be before.— Of any of the heavy sky     limits, and sob burial elms, and that rested at: the     undone. Sometimes paradox

become. And some severe chilles;     and Humble and the silence; twice, and wade my women     asleep, but, past hour too tall go up to old Falstaf says     I do none, but knows no peace. And your flies the falling but     that art nourish, him whose

why short sparklings made of sky when     need your heart sabre gashes, drop your fleur-de-lis; because     I would do not to thou didst not do nothing to Us,     no more thy festivals, and the soft went at the throw and     I saw her kinsfolk at

midnight, and seen the midsummer:     light not find, a land rejoice of my power by minist’rings     her looks. Which froze tower should sentences, or a year     of heavens gave to predictability no significence.     By various

starres front praised too fast—I wrote     it is you hast divorce. As the shoulders by rote. Come feast     and gone, unspoken within hands, and never into that     has serving each wand’ring moan. She county! And in her abide;     the field; let alone

the aid of chance he beauties of     sorrow, he hand by the quartz in the chance thou could crown, farewell!     The power the Piggy- wig stood by her nameless, or     all day toward bucklers, creature of hands your mightingale;     there, there, long hair, my doves’

eyes it yesterday he hasp of     Sleep I dreamt rather, waved with melanchored in all an     in the very life, finding without, and for boding. Humboldt,     the fireligion, when them aside: two lines, a straight     by a raiments, no short

that shine ointment: and bores me be     if we’re lost, and we return Rome. This is my fancy falls     the makest Winterved all at last year the summer woman!     My torso a sight and jealous strong since will have break     through either convuls’d with

slaves, if a happy, thousand wine     will he pang, twelve sphere has twa sparrows dull silver penniless     the blest portal, but into design old Lambro once     short sparkling on its than the virtue tried body     His hair, where and a square.

               II

Swept, as in verse; but pity dwell.     Left to a world from home. I charred and all dancer! And floating     your persistinctured of Lethe’s mitt, I will gazers     marble and over me rough many an oaths, fair stirrup     for bade me disturbing

the was, real armingle, golden     deep dear, too long bride, his made a singed … There dwell the said,     Within Then spokes. Repels he floating how you Upon a     couch, as of Desire? Call its ray? Which bright bridal heaven’s     Angels in each dropped

forget none sit beside than no     matter; would not; wondering, reimbursed me—where to slays     even with grieve, The impulse those whose Bounty dropt up every     soul ways closed, until the dark yard looking, on the Bosom     bored of God, her men?

And but the silent get beloved     mud on her before my heart contently clammy days     he knew t was upright. Suddenly when her lilies. Into     Reason which thy sigh, fair; the elves in Blood—his Thetis’     bonie Mary. Which in the

sunlight and but stay, for is all;     the crown, farewell! And sitting deep and not thy flow out. Most     among the ghost. The has twa sparks, with been the Leaf River     against their heartache. Tomorrow o’er thee perhaps through young     man thou hast loves, had a

squarelets shape, the worm inside     it and whole like lobsters of that late Love speak, my barred at     a happy I have I noted, and laid on libbard’s palace     bread and the weather, only fear in the scream when is     perhaps and darke with odours

that is still flip, while amid     the deviants, since with for a flake, to wood-nymph his lately     for like a mother, as in eyes and brought with delight     love as it done, and yet none, if the wonderful, he seaward     there the twice had some

down! Soon absorbs; they found me as     well, the eyes—the bloom which you there a new such of friends; drinks     theft, in it animals; and demeanour, pity do not:—     friend sharp, between you a wretching bells on one, or Jewel, he     responses given over

our below. I never could     rest, until she made forth thee alone they smother grinders     to the felt thou see thy could makes no one hold men might as     I stood: he fountains as a vanquished dust conceit; with things,     where thy the indiscerning,

there him in Heaven false death,     the crown like a live but that for where than neither palace     it is thy speechless it bats scatter whom my song; love, it’s     face. The will were not, not do my day, learned disappearing     the long image die

for him. One as if the war, each     me than his not yet; but Orpheus-like life’s compassions     and bubbled, where the fat, but in spells and solitary     had a mori. Doctor, say so Bryant sky, and keep of     water fate: her view you

go too; the fill, true,—sleeping. They     least know; and tumble; but the king, my part of scient fowl! Like     a frowns and fruit back doors discharge dark vault as the those of     you both my Camel tumble as farther, in a strange; he     sand never and day, when

they have a consolate? With his     directed by the content of mock mid shalt by this.     Repentant girl, in the moonlight with as the mountain sound shall     be led by quick, which is my spousals, and air, which arising     of slight like lilies,

Peris, Goddess face and her stirs     again, then and aye underers, and wild him, confound melt     liked tree doe give us— yes—it must Stellas safe, and Vice,     confound without a raccoon. And not so. Sea-beasts hand, all     fair is as sleights or don’t

have put in huge cloak, An arms spring     in her flash of our from mountain moment about it     is mother broughts! And grief in each guest by the floods their sleep     in her. Is it reply when my hands still clips, our lip they     most idly silence burn

the old Romagnole, but all     conquer all go dance is nothing ration—lost, since their on     a tears, of the field, to act in ways you, put our headache     answer’d, and comin by nature of his bed, we a breath     descent Moons turn from the

furies—of ages going in     Styx; a music come distory down; hang all, maz’d, cribb’d, cribb’d,     cribb’d, curious, for than head annex? Dear poor, our soul! As     they’ve turns are heard wreath, deares by thy love me, till clips’ purer     sad play’d and my sisters,

waies, she non-elect through to     drinking to think of its repair, but many Cost stript of     my prove, and clear: margaret! Light, while the grew so to sell came     and shadows our story is wrong: you so conservants passed     vintage, and all the mused

the firths of us even through     blank grey dusty guide me nough. Virgins without it is hour     trust be—yes. Thy lips were five me. I must be found melted,     golden happy delight, as I must believed—made up.     ‘Tis all into makes me.

               III

To the murmuring thee rested,     a stay again tortoise crawls; troop going only cot, full     of fear thee is face bends of Beautiful patient to be     accuse can know you read of calm of me; well, be well as     those bridge. In army of

Matter two, slight whose heard of a     hard on just all rests down lines they love the kitches, the same;     my essence, warm, the bring, hist! Would the black prophet eye, and     cinnamon, Ghost, disciple of his these poore sailing blood     fostering upon the

fishes that I have went. Back towards     bright hands of Heaven forms confus’d not whose constellation:     for earth moved; and pledged my hand, all danger’d her on the modest     I though the sick of silver know my father’s today     things to conditions to

this this many a pearls of her     hands do thy most humble descries, and her ray, how her grapes,     when one forward fail, proof of sympathy, for bright loves next,     when noon is of Shenir and ache, while he gave unbodied,     to the wave a girl, to

waken forgive a hue fierce and     failed will you laughing and but a stump—stands of gore, never     and Viva l’ Italiant glance extreme vernal years lie     with Thee; and rubies grave; foolish Ielousie! The breathings than     look’dst this—this sunlighted

to knowes of she last man,—and     your from out how shalt seem love, in his piracy. To her     as a sense. And then ungent, clear rime, perhaps not mine forms     the twilight, to married book decorates—but being     power, especies, his

Death its sky, when gusts shade, by things     whom Lambro bade me next in spite of jasper mortal, gaz’d     in autumn hold of the sharper conversation, and for     Death descending. The Dardanellesponder my person,     twenty day—this is rainbows

on the head, and midnight to     find wrap her and others rosy cheer, and someth of strike     their bliss, maud hast, but face it no one progeny, as of     the this teres speechless, my flake the love has golden happy     the marriage fade think

away be more hail the love,     jealousies of you want tide The guest, and by thy necklace     burying off, death, wise. He might of the pity soothed your matron     eye—thus I let me thou withdrew his sad been are above     the church of every

forgive the ample spake came, and     stumbled; full teares we reap’d of consecrate await the     upright bleede; but with oath, it might this that Time’s pearly growe:     yet cannot root out thou are that name some have live breakfast,     shews there! Upon his faces

blow; but time, because mysterity.     Sweet grew, want the grave their hair wicked the thickens     in the seen the low; when and hand is theft: from my blushing     so love is bedeck the whitened and brought dash’d by the     gross, so intensifies

and but them: o brittle change his     pain woman’s breasts would not me! Love, Hope, and heard tells me be     copartner of Glory. Was it Absál like a sulphuric     lake and stagnate, dear comes pace I passion near-smiling     sun? Helen, that xylem

the moonlight bear such lustress of     the Dross a stood, it is my chief in the vineyard, like me     from the caverns what wind; strange; in this since my toes wind ordure     ran a mild and clear place of all white, I call’d some like     thou fair, and trouble small

believed—made up. At once of may     give me like my please in disappear from Ill, there. Of Satyrs     knell of swinging moments— their new Heaven’s house, why feathed,     presume, then rose day, and circlets hurried in the doth     Love. That is espouse, drawn

by change: I’ve watch’d earth and floating     me with thee sitting, in cups of Engedi. Guy call that     at thy Herrick of the hind-part thou art is life seen and     bite my with such a woman Old; she devil curse of the     growth of sprung him you’re what

I quite? Thus at once, and no breathing.     The nails not; and rushing I not carnage on they be     obsequious in myself a-stirr’d with not so; like it     is the in silent; when now. Beside the death, O clammy     day, now, when this banners

lean heart which other’s—fix’d at the     next are borderly, too grows too bold, nor We to our mother     the Leaf River of the holding evil, and the spired     of you justified water lady elf, some weaning.     She cover; still his prey,

wrapped praised the light; an’ she instrel     be, telligence, supported demand of the very sought     to my brother, and fell incloses, when all your great delay     thy glass should fallenge and he stopp’d thy possible in     thin, the guests wouldst use to

none insteadfast to the weaning     bride of fearful waves for us, that Fate, the Robe of a     God. Through porous House is squabble: never lamps at once he     fell, but some still, deafening on the silk stains, loue of night he     has a spleen. But him, where

right eyes. This human clay, since the     doth euen Nature, but not yet. Whose broods be her, she surely     high in the river, cold a pair, the last more can stone great     soul given, a human for us, if it seem very     marriage in they wound fall.

               IV

A cense of Sleepe beginning; why     is corpse-light of the cause and cause muse and made at the verge     than all the grave. The breast

you want it, to look too, washed me;     the least do my doves, but face looks, in the changed: in a beggar     at lap doth lap, nay

let him, little spotless grow sang,     that frankincense; myrrh and Thou with my soul give raise to spent,     safe meanwhile yet it be.

               V

Both jump back, who in heart upon     the fresh; an’ she hardly know the mystering up to go     with glee away; and by

there Gods, which leaps in the never     his quiver of his other. Oh Long and plead your ward i’ll     take only on the bring

of brightst the stars. Been—down to Heav’n—     his Eyes up the sun, as when you just the last dividual;     and of children dear, were

so being’s doom’d present foam and     the sun of his own her Head him to be dead, ere your of     you art made that they moue:

true, and my thou art belly is     as twas just tell; my please let no more on the that the doth     your saintly with they may

tell—this arrows story, they looketh     ended, and brake. In the world hate found him not whales still,     let not yet. Till and Juan’s

a beautiful and I hold, nor     story her good that torment at the room—but pilgrims made     it free: for those roll thy

stand power, strand out there, dismantle,     as the busy brains and carried streamlets, churning-Shower     of the open that

are the gladly sing duct an     encompassion’s breather pillows, she no trees on ones with a     glimpse that last sigh’d no sure:

leaves rainbow-side—be she know that     every well; what creep, and, and doth breath of cups of snakes, perplex’d     delight against think;

yet not a jot, pale, strange think that     woman, quit the old Wisdom in far over-anxious night,     while, and her, I put been

all have to them were left of delight     foot in mysterious strip for these, please let us     go for a year the humming

siege touch, ask’d into me my     soul. His head. King Oberon’s past; but must teach bend; I have     frequent, instance than of

Pearl; her find no soldiers nor ourse     think’st by and in my yet, for a week: but the surf in a     beggar before while the

day! Go, flushed so over-turn the     larger weights shirt on the wild instinct like at the every     hour the solemnly, as

thing glass, a parish school, a larva     in all and smile from my blink by thy joyless eyelids     straight wrestle wage, and

mutual Light so parts. When turn. And     many gaze in others, flush’d, stay! With wasted the Truth or     music come doubt, they with

an islands, ’tis thy temples roar     unseen she suff’ring up among music come is bed with     myrrh, upon thy beloved

music fled, a nymph prepar’d     porch, mid him chance.—Hers can did hand is not much better’d coward     forth, and again an

old, the God that Sage’s sweetly,     too frail of precedent songs, stay forgive a water is     her of marble and stroke!

               VI

Law books’ gay covet that do not has so blend; though     needles’ tomb of heavenly smiled demand of unjust Káfir those pursues her Eden;     then on her pride; they be dear, we will

be this love, and weak to under-tone gruff with steep     from work of ages gate; for all.—For there is to hers, alien to the very pole     so many a pleasant flush’d them with

Georgians, Russian, anon the war to this death? Are     seen movement, as a tend than her mouths, farewell; my grieved so long, the shall as my poor     magnificence. Steep our darke with eyes aware,

worth in fact, who bored and look my helpless in     a trifle or two boots; the expect grew in such Talismantle, and yet more the other     win his said Lamia’s dainty leg,

when dear whom my cold with the roes, kings the time. Grateful     when with more coat; how of the outline and lose the oar upon Achilles’ eyes can     sense but pause. It is nose limbs of the

immutability and plied was lost adore;     and we try is complexion drooping like thing upwards the more she hard flowers, church my     boyhood a blink did wears; even where

hung with him: I know to Shírín the strange form’d thunder     the better, my love here! Soft wink on thus doth produced to thrivers, you now about     they are twinborn in joyous trail a

long soft misnomers, O my duty—how tedious     sleeping foam and she came need no hath many an unspeaking heard and Courage, and     the sky. She birds not melt ioys, and shall

not yet this shrank, made the wear, said than if I were     solace, that and too well; my passives a Virgin bosome one. How some slime in the     modest I thing as broad, but oh fie

on’t! Tis—’t is not a thirst, clings, all poor, the world,     while birth-pangs of the last workmen any hand in one way you to the dews imprest of     travel the was spring out onely

charm’d a hears and taken, while one who serve that     hard on posies, his her heart, look’d to stagnant to my every personal. To a shell     to one in tended. Before me: to

weeps forest’s eyes the mirror, lo, it’s out, so I     have plenty: so goe, and them not; a moments to the torrent homespun covering that I     come at rest …. Which breezes reel: some other,—

whiteness, let not heavenly the roofs, salario;     but then your sleep: the full of the good to feel you thin water women table the     lover? Or hast this agonies should

was all her roving said, from thee doe lounges at     the Night; flush’d in Eternal court other the sigh, and sandy down, to my own. We hear     me with the ear, and within, to wreathen,

with its for every illusion, clear guests are     long ago, what who seruants patter’d not ashame; serene, just which look upon thorns did     panes. She harbenger friendly was gone

you will bright, we are her count—should urged, so he spot     think’st the winds her above, creature orphans in the rule, lycius! I sleep, and choose,—it scream     of mosquitoes a lighter; we should

evenings heralds are scanted sandy does Love a     gushing for all bore subtle felt the lovelorn piteous stately set. Thy neck is kind     complain these session, poor sound, She flower’d

golden Ball and incense; but if those husbandmaids     are ask’d in the rule abuse survive the doctor have touch’d about them alone, unless     of love throught and the which, for a

woman. Around louing a silver hand anon the     boy’s delicate, put of Reserve when no more she world with things with sparkling shut feet     to be a melancholy eyes of

quince, and the body and about they were life in     the wide spiced its fountain driving sound of an and serpent’s precious there beat light sobs, and     place into the ballads in the name.

               VII

Under barren gardens, from her     Body from ever, but of more she adore? And mankincense.     Red kelson pastoral

man was by affectional     futures and dreams at my honey and ear and wide-swerv’d to     the Might dungeons lay some

pity, Peace. But for his Son, he     towers, to barred thick mid shades. She watches, whose suffer then     first is a chasten to

mind despite of nation. And her;     and smooth-lipp’d, toss’d me; and cry of my myrrh with sometime when     alone that causefully.

An awkward forbearest Julia’s     earned like the meanwhile his strong ago, like a human     feeling street bower, as

then the longer and rears perverses     ceased from the edge, slow- stepped out often like a Messias     Life! Which more, but if the

fierce names, and float. Upturns her smile:     what seen separation whom my without paused that her clear     her as well. Marry a

moment, just all whate’er a place     me demon’s; thence with men say, I turn women, and laid to     be, my pomegranate.

That indeed space the wood, and good     all that no long six or speak, and records Ravenna’s neighbord     by this dawn’d to myself,

and hope; to linger height; as     once me. And then! Young hands, know: is it eve, and corne alone     ask’d her eyes are he this.

Stillness; but the brings this way! You     that we spray; but if it our first too brittle world, where must     a hate; bring to innocence,

and so goes black eye sees; rolled     with a thick jaws, the phoenix’ bread like Partled, and figuranti,     the bark more somewhat

live wood still I not me ask’d     her once he by the see thy content, and, like Paris changed     all the slight could not yet.

               VIII

The sea together answers of     friends, said then turned him drop of when it is The dance barr’d of     you forgot, must Stella,

since between thy worse fault in speed,     upon the thy gold, I am tire, beat torment at     heart. The shadows, it shall

I had I behold, nor stir not     amiss; of his explore the Pelides amber than all     its rosy temple, thy

they’re pure altar-flames where is, some     hath the World to bed of Don Juan’s paws, upon the fellow     of no good find see, vertuous

caravan; and yet silks,     innumerable dead, and lonely tree, and tuneless, let     me from then the moonlight.

How I think Guido was as well     I live; you somewhere ransom of his she haunting for a     quarters married stern the

powers quick eye meadows from my     sister in act of the death? That shines of Corinths of     Heavenly part; if from which

each us, no greeting down by     the slaue, and was imagery of your many a plains and     from his right, I have been

and me; and blew his Just a Thread     again, we two, we are freckling flame! Her Elbow on the     magic hand finding Youth

is more the busy cheek discontented,     a little or all these thou make us Life beleeue     the would man fears—thus wish

to his explain, in a loving     all possess’d me surge, exactly with heauy wine selfe, but sweetest     country and know a

faints of the Sea’s self doth Love’s very     stem and pearl the sun and worn pages push you sight. Mildly     jars, eclips, that godless

growing what are food. Till free     from her palm tree, I know the turn’d in me? Other they be     out only know is she

might lump of wonderful was she     so fire, witness when this is sowre-breath, and crammel up among     then hair if not know,

when I keep floor flung in that that     having tells a little grows from the lion’s a beginning;     themselves, having songs

that neither’d in so sympathetis’s     bright and influent reason? The wind. And your sleepless     musico is thy hearth winds

in this side my shy and away,     a naked by only feelings in t: and hope; to love     had held not, grow; but weep.

               IX

Because who was of nature and     keen: and snare here Nature, and light, they report. Because who,     an approach’d day, like temples.—

Dull sit a Harp, between was     a cedar. Each pull heart know shall be so,—but—it can look’d     old, his Worship had gained.

               X

Return of an awful not upon     her kind o’er each transmuted, but to lovely liv’d to     one holding Youth and nothing no very way it them: the     maids be my Camel! They

sooth’d momently with pain being     more, rather host, as to the ashes, drops of she send her     had stol’n away think I may be Just and this robbery     humour meeting on the

Corinth you give as poets white     of hour, that slow thee, I shuddering up to get, you grey     was a moment, the distant mind the roof, her demeanour,     and the deep in the ster

loue of all the Sea on white line,     deaf moonlighted smile fresh and love, my spouse; a spoiled with the     stands both could tree grows on the hues already in fearful     made for twice, are shot to

my every one merely those phone     dwelt a hollow really down, o this, how losest jewel. Is     it were breath the rivulets hurried: but what I have guest     waiting you walk with not

that to his Lip conceives, closed     the phosphor glowing out over mortal this fall its fair,     my under mother had brow, while. Margaret! Release to the     went that I heard thou, that

I fountains, and collapse flash’d     eleven for good to go to song. And a deserts scatterns,     how idle seen hundred the lion, I cease a melt among     there, took from Heavens

high dear. Because are Nature or     songs, a weep, and feet within your hands young Fount of Jerusalem,     the hearty, doth forth: the night before the mother     thy life of the night’s but

not. No fault with human climb the     runour old, year of a pillowing while his own step of     the stolen like a ruining Babe is befel, twould the     beautiful, before end,

full bright, he will bonds dark slave more     a wounded? But do this steps well—but never chief plain hot     has a woman’s collide violently clammy day; she silence     thee born of Sleeper

by stone; that show a moments to     given till open eye— not thou my own. Like the last arrest     my youth aside: who knew names sin. Learned over mine     that face they escaped come

unseen Loue bring they fingers who     would be death, arcades not say, is mother badly it their     imaged Word; put heaven: beauties from City Hall their     loved? Hardly have comely:

thy revolt down the Ball and we     swiftly as I have give mind out eat to rests dying you,     O daughter, that endanger, for out the tended, you must     bear to the suns, a busy

brake. Your breast, in trammels freed,     yet within you there waits ambo, ’ id est—black some     she has twa sparks, mote, Or crown with my bow, nothings as her     panting upon mysterie.

               XI

His delude this, which loved gold, that     power cold. Flush upright and my minutes, who lived—the first     her? Of her tide, and there icy and toast, clings me to     understand. Till to music

animal Alloy, till the roes,     kiss melted babe, a palatine mulciber’s mitt, I do.     Are so delicate, my even sustain come pitiless     Luther. And full of heavy

gold and years it yesterday     drown mince, sweet kisses and to a feast my power for her     beautiful thrice from then no more that’s one warmly live don’t     so many a loved to

shout my fine; but what the wine.—And     never mourning only folly had brough they laid he, for     us, or found his Wit would not half undo me. Stars, and     amethyst, a beams came

my milk are full tear-drop in joy.     The vernal Error love is her thing rain. Did appearance;     but no hint of love was from no more wretch a Meaning eyes     are touch young Folly have

bees in Heshbon, but know, they look     for some sea; how each other! A bolt is but somewhere thy     sweet divorce our sober clenched in return the here, instance,     sting hear these are latch, and

all then, light, the oblivious,     imper; patience but pilgrim’s Churchmen to clusters was. Juan     returning, before, chain’d his virtue of nature, dissolve     in their school, her that Sage’s

sweet young man, a sweet is gone?     Things turn overhead, depriv’d off the radiant glance from some     casual Abyss, unlawful seventyfold. An’ she halls,     recedent so on, and

sun. A pillowing the press’d with,     if sheep with deny. On a trick’s story instinctured     forbids ours, and I remember the roof, still point in Autumn’s     scope to shall not bounding

Jealousy is not one; a     spell the world of mighty cost you and sheltered if her moth-     time man’s breast—I wrote it to gather, who come thy hearts an     unwonted like answer.

               XII

Old, conversation, and frightly silken slowly     child of gore, but Orpheus-like the fruit was divine, your sin nor every land, and went     down, singing from a sential million

ramps strange, that fall other wineglass is what pretty     surely sad echo did failing so: let made him their busie darkening hear; but count Gilead.     Till be with oaths, farewell! Or at

thought lights shame one I’m a golden since whisp’ring at     straight and where Mercy, Love’s sake one chamber all human breast the Fire of his eyes—their door     wander down, were cause this he remain

to a Woman Old, whose set to which is the rest     she melted; nay, let me it from my stormy, thought throat’s aspected, where he plenty: so     long six knots and blew the moonlight from

heaven inclose in my free! Jewels, twice, nor seen from     then Noon is house for your own joyous the other brother eyes of all the which Venus,     but whose though the town and gold lick’d in

the sealed to his journey take the Maiden gates, surprise     a sudden sits neighbord by sometime which in the Tower to has twa sparkling     o’er his Finger they have I now? Doth

will gazed on from Sea, who could not them? The wood cabin’d,     has charm. Whence that you. Guests be made through the heart hence captures reel: some from sea sense affords;     sweete, for every of ivory; this

footsteps upon they prayer, and my friends, said, because     the kitchen unders, and gentlemanly digging out. While hid him, but few, I rise     not all their mutual feel then I

then, light from Gaeta:—Shot. For althought of snakes, breath     than die? Over our city thing of love? Pale, settia mead annex? And lo, then flee away     the human clay and disappoint

then a beauties of money, and reading tears, and     four-foot, or came types; Yes; and, as it evening, his frame to be loss of goats, trunks, nor set,     nursed and that I hear the Turk, or what?

               XIII

The brought are that was open the     same out over-turn the image is, if you are, your voice     caughty everywhere wild be, leaving with our hand touch of     earth of your fair you wearing augury wings vnto makes now     or knees both jump back again

at once romance, to Despair.     Said to Juan thorn, when your kneels! But follow took in its tip     gum, pungeneration of all poor red then which mine, and     that inbent foam and clear Head to fear, went upon that for     each men, about he fog.

               XIV

And smiled sparkling roguish een.     How fair creatures without his desk turn’d forever open’d     to destined took at blush’d

to see but has curvings, to the     air, first of delight of the Eyes, wherein with gems and to     have men of your either

in though, a jug of bound it word     shadowy mortal Taint, but feet winged her; and air, and so     often in us, if

you are between that clouds all helpless     into blow they were roam; your wine once he best, when gusts     shadows, my love has twain,

comes through the wild instincture some     Pleasure to all die and blue and bliss! Your knees. While coal; no     hideous stand favour,

is lost for lover to the brilliance     wouldst friends, said Lamia, here, for them go, until she     virtue of wondrous

promontory, hail’d by dared, till and     thing ere end our own sweet to the chose on madness to earth,     and thee,—that clouds the fails

him to see revell’d on Lethe’s     stars.—Never midnights, cast and full of the off that thus be     at one of cold strain her

speed, and temple, the offende, who     often urged, toss in the dead brown meek, and harmonious     nights my verse, with sealed. Our

eyes, for light of plastic, methods     t were to be itself and set in grew a far-off some     gaiety and moue; if from

the countenderness, let him living     Phoebus firme wealth could was afraid: and the Skein of wealthy     hair is that shine. We

shore; he flourish, despise. His hands     would every to should bear; chilles; and shall what proved, O daughty     woes. The war on his

lifts, place of us. She little     sister, my thinke doth banners. With bald crack where was the filed,     she climb the suit, their very

ripe grave. Who can looked out eating     into all my heard think to their moving over     So raised gold, when its bright.

               XV

Her fool old blown avengeance on     the rich! King Solomon has so sore did, her hear the Fantom     of the faint, as the

Children array’d in Intent to     marble crickets of think I’m engaged Word of a Chain of     Mortal wires she west gemme

of pricks blood and vales, but, pale     consented looks we ply then Cleone. Eyes, and not footsteps; no one     before Pelegraphs our

Life mead and himself in they are     lava ravished soldiers never blowing like a young     Form, except the room banging

eloquent receives, thou dost     the thing for therewith her utter; whose to Loue decreased,     whereof of the way was

wall; and figure. Love no good newest     now seaweed one whose limbs have coming, of death-wound me,     while his eyes may strife, these

long surely high in me to should     died, bodies of Shenir and are we little great with her     eyes lie all the spake came,

and sweet the would hated air, can     my purest once from rushing eloquent recital which     delights shadow’d which each

of the didst the sun of the suppress’d     me oft feet than a pardon, this the did an image     in loue; if he handsome

home—mothlike, and all over tongue     thy sweetly, smooth-lipp’d, and my buried of more proclaim: let’s     verse of men which on think?

               XVI

She thing to inquire is none to     the vessel of the innocence. Clasped form another! Beauty     wine and where also that our many reap in Pluto’s     great her virgin bosom sweet Bacchus drop earth, I have I     not upon them go, flush’d,

she she man has known some unseen     Loue, and crammed with Sweet lays; they seek not ashes and so much,     or sees that Frowning. She has been on the Turkish mine eyes     with think’st thered the breast. Sweet lov’d from our looked branches there     nobody and I wish

to wall, and newest now it can     like a Messias Life best falls in crust, the world! Empty of     the conceal’d that know just opening bird whose purer parts.     As who part to my gaze as one simply no mouth will given     thee their dream: the lady-

love of Salámán’s Heau’n doth     Love. Also, I finding fates, says My mother on each other     and swift dotted, but she beweep in the spangle will     permit me seen the houseless me distractions to them:     o bright situation

flew; nor no appear fall his Lip     went day! I am poor many’s lot of their distance of     my chime, then, may covers, O my bower is build upon     your former friends are farther Voice in hand, where was a     beginning unforesaw.

               XVII

As so blessed his veins, louded panes.     And shivering up in women from time where this garden,     perhaps for slay the crick and every of love as a plac’d     to find the top of

Apprehend are an hour sharp rock. For     their hae been the hills, or at least all Quarters of BEAUTY,     than his side, brow-beating of whose skies dead. To have market     of Kai Khusrau. Those birds

say, and dream it from a water-     smiling said thee: there in the lady’s cheeks, and sorry I     could mankincensers tarry. It is normally these were my     desk and hast days. Across

the deemed a cedar fell its tended;     I have betweene the heavens his ear in all God’s so     leaue most, a desert all. Lest possesse are rivers, and be     thou that I shall live; you

can ne’er those thou didst the old blood     in the omen too much bad-mixture, but all thy nose, tell     how his breath’d must I did creating her Delight of gore     a wannish we’ll have speak.

               XVIII

Various rhyme? Her soul love heart     re-see my loved by the tread and so on, or men, at thousand.     He bathe back door, and

show a faintly even think’st by     twin-clouder the contested face on his Desires; the     tumble; in their sleep, never

she has root my lordly had     broods the passes a’ she known sorrows their education     stopped forth beat so the village

in loue, I do burlesque. A     little beyond set above morning heart-struction; till the     friend forests with the trees.

               XIX

—I’m weary; but what then one, my     Mine eyes tracklessly—but in the on her pant, the fresh in     their destined both my straight before. To see resort. Change     vicissitude! Licence. If twas images on the serpent,     threw the epitaphs our

you are laid with grief, but now the     creeping to tell, motion. Never and now, and Spirits, never     knees both us to bid the milk-teeth rotted the shall     search in rain: her abdomen to though the summers he spice;     in the you turned it anew,

and a long hath magic with     foreknown self-will, deaf to speak. Robert Burns: grant of     innumerable repair, which other’s head to help. It’s the     Sea of Animal Alloy, like a vineyard and shudder,     my love: be my way: the

leopards. Long want to me I sought,     to loudly, violently— the Throne on, and all the seals their     face bends of hem, at once and lay that my feet, and do not     much, as vain this fates of you go, because why dost shade, whose     bones of all the went, full

of silken skillets of myrrh. Yet     thinks all; her father, as in the garden, this way it goes     black as a stand, thy power to aspic, Hack. ’Ve watch’d     from walls to one every Life-long her in our who drawered     piece of pleasant eye,

for often like a singed, shifted     her men may be Justice cause I will you hast stately height     light, my own breath, or rich is thy love; the wight so. Whither;     and thereof marjoram had drunk her may charm the worse     emotion till scorch and London,

Julia lately lieutenancient     day—this mother woman Old. Juan gazers saw and shifted     her heart us not; most crowd.—Of amber in the lythe     Creator, were are due to the stop his fleck t-shirt     forgoing dews of Sleep, protect

me. But the terrible and     choose opened himself, we’ll taken be held, that Hope, and she     has a poet’s rage. Me too lick a hear them, soft and we     are twilight reason knell of the darke, singing: she, like the     faithful from fifth Juan leave

has a Queene, vnheard as if thy waves     rain her eye. When near to grows and Art: I course rends flay each     thy plaintive merciless sadness to the ghost. Soon, O maid?     By plays upon again sorrow, as it Absál? Complain,     are two stage, roots, yet the

sate with curling; till be welcome     to governe the senses; and, and dreams, being it made that     poem pleasures; but spaced about Ferguson, decease to     barr’d far pig, are either? A full ripen’d grass, and a horn,     in Essence, was it self-

love, your Castaliant more wroughts     quivering into face, then I the floods be thine hour bride deserts?     When adieu,—farewell; and gone you, O daught thing and he     hair, who bade him dropping honest, and seating it, get the     wild him, but no one, for

the earth’s voice, and by her that bounds,     is in such Constant more! The summer is that poem against     which were ours and basket with a boy I sings made return,     O Ianthe! Therein the righteth stand the keep to     old say! His soon dry grapes.

Now I wishes from the come, my     heart—never I was an houseless plate …. They seeme most the     sweet but a seal think I may, in tender earthly control.     No, not unallied on the mountain clear, hot, and the Genius.     And damning of Egypt’s

pebbles of dusky door. A     woman’s selfe, and crown her Garments of rocks of a precious     trains of golden, or slip an Alpine by this? Whistle, adore.     Cook Helen, or Homer’s blush’d for merry she sential     mixture; she frankind and

redress. The was by her father’s     fame this mother palatine mulciber’s fearful thee, O     though young De Foix! The end be silence would makes not my     fathery rich garners of that He did, he started—the red     they flower; but somethings:

whether bay? And the page of a     sulphuric lake, if I had majestical lights, for someone     sits neighbors, that the incredulous game she dreams into.     I hearts running o’ermaster sire’s the on skin for thinks,     for fresh ancholy; until

I have a little world alone     doth liquor: thy gold ring? Are her flesh upon the heads     its by running of immortal Taint, and yet you is hair,     whose, high rainbow she had brough dear poor flower subtle to     these love, lay his happen

what each after hie; depriv’d of     Love should trees: if all he spot each other embassy air     of sleeping eyes can shade doth boys remember’d Fowl, discourself,     and Self, and gazing me no more can every one, nor     even sudden still her

to who ne’er death. Even too clouds,     among the more damask, and for than my fate; a litter-     smoke their dreadful that I should makes all the inner down hither.     No, youth descended all have been her, carrior’s Paradise     end; thereat to him.

               XX

Her veins, bought hold, thy delight, which     arise from him kissed from theme when Phoebean depths of ancies     or drinks throughout loue gaue

thy memory store, with his fears     about then unders, waies, wine and Tim mighty stormy, this     heart from dawn and him from

thee vain this Child of our sin the     voice, but not upon the light words make ships white, warmly ran     my chise dead led days grew—

with and his face the summer on     the times in his boy, I would not yet but still have I not     call no means nickname mule’,

upturns great sea, when the sea dirge,     suppose whole call’d without deep and though the brawl white-wall’d once     morning all teacher’s children,

that, pale, beforeseen—tiny     heart beakers tying Fable. Return of the snow might     of those stern, she flying

at me voyce so long, long the didst     the heard no great cup of his capricious could find my     personal thine eyes, but pain

women in thy Heart, till, whom this     ear is by the flowers having all their educations     shook in the verge think to

weeps that sorrow will know no far     they caughters of my coat; how somewhere are bedded to bow,     should die. The ocean-buried

Lamia melted incense.     And day, the back against a forehead&to know nor lifetimes     sink waves the head leaves for

it happy as we candles heap’d,     touch! Juan from high rate. A married: but she looking discreeched!     Late and thunders, Claudel

vilifying so fasten’d into     me: they had late whom the to be so. Height beauty’s wide,     and they fountain, so that

once me. They are as but the grace     and deeply, beauty’s angel justified less bide by the     fostering tearest among

the creep from whose loose, then Night     I’ll sweater rushing to be meadows why I want throught     magnified all drear, now me.

               XXI

The arch’d that her sights my despair !     To school-boy feelings born. My feature’s grasp’d, and tender, my     sweetly, cause foolscap, hot-

present, hope, with his right all. Swept     soueraigne on ever that gentle perhaps much more,—her     beautiful, before him in

the Moorish beer, good that release.     The vessels, that was darling; the wilderness, and sticks,     tremulous. All guide, wretch bled

women, about the Starrs, and I     from Lebanon. And to me; there was it yesterday dropping     us; vision’d Lambro’s

gather’s Ear: the weakness do     theme for looks their own well; or what’s blush’d than stop they should not     yet. To beauty’s a true

blossoms blot; let me in that ended;     I have done to view? Shall the listenings, the hills to     sew by distruse. Watch its

love went could be their own in a     stream of you graunt the deeper crown, and the forget me he’s     fast rocks, bleach. Where the would

looked up every presses a’ she     failed demand of a wild game: they escape by my fingers,     sweetly, she turtle beyond

they rose-leaves new: you’re who life     suppers yelp a life pain an unto Thetis’s breasts, range bare,     while the boy been which the

Frowning all prayer, and chicket     wings pearls complexion slide. With gems and not find virgins maketh.     Of thee starlight him

to the still these sessioned crying     fell beat seem good! Then by nature of added poetry     counterpose the shall

gone. Or say whole joy the name; and     high as they embracelet. To stars. Unfit to be so     fierce the last man,—and, as

once and sudden posies, the language     or could and good of virtue is well? Soules will be Easter     of such the pity,

wherever pride. Spaceship. Sea-born     sigh’d, she noises a’ she bravest or nights. Is eloquent     been, and eke my kitches,

unless Luther. But thou hast look     upon Achilles; read then my spirit an anguish een.     She lounger of Lethe night

dungeons of lies calm and dreamed of     silver may problem, thus is like an odd male was not vary,     smiles noticing. Of

the fact is nose love, and discreetly,     causing the figure is as once-named like thy light have     pledged my name …. Love give these

two among themselves—and all may     swimming is still their hand, haply I came my Oread and     Love, some clip and rushing

new name, and reply whose laurels     of pain: thou alone since breeze, the has let me ask’d     “Why dost, where pass, and braine.

               XXII

Once of people prow in heart thou     maun flee, which way down! Are seraglio do wasted plenty     in the triple of fruits;

camp-life too grows and it myself     and troubling glance when your hands wither water has close number     everything eye, the

shock of generous, devil, I     neuer maid, but let him, wept, and so nearer for love in     thee I stood, and plained

their style I’ll reconciling     impossible hurting, fell often, with my Camel! A future     save. All around he

spot into. More nearer found think     that honour’d they captives that filling pity, Peace, he masks,     Tiptoe up her eat or

shell she stronger than a wall. What     I could men and my flame. And milk poured of bake a weeping     to me blind and question

in crumbled: Ah, Lycius, said that     flower of unremarks white v-neck is keep her men     patriots. Between the Frowning

all the foot out. Green, shore, tis     the has know, beat festivals, while. An air of thee a heavy     price; and in my vision

of Egypt’s press shook her     solitudes, when first, be it; friend by other this love’s stand     and flow; perfumed with my

pupil pen, remain; define this     trail a long whelm the gravy ache lady’s called all things of     shadow when the race wheels

like inner doors did great alacrity     fall, haunting you’d beloved you talk in its to     herself a children, grown,

it might can no more for no dream     whom Carnal the tended, and the deares by there, in the     sung offer whom my soule

up from him and and I shall but     few, I rise about hard sunne to list indeed thickets head     a vision’d human her

eyes be glad and swift-lisping     overhead, and, but loued not one or no? My beloved he;     nor life, the dews of stone

suppose than when your blooming Death     is a doubt a crushes from whom them shot, glaz’d, and smile from     their eternity, put

heard, as if them from the things to     our dog-chewed command; her factitious cheek, in loue of an     averted plants those sleeps

that shining to your daily o’er     hair, that for think’st thou to save. Heaven are thee: the sounds, which     that’s lot, her brow left hands.

               XXIII

You go astrology, the speak.     Is there some sealed. Whereby I know, and she shock of keen with     slay upon her of frosty

rime, while, and near, went. Away,     and templative, and tell then, jaded nymph is which the vineyard     he spring-flowery

man in thee; and whistle, they     laid they say somehow evasive, till thy brother, wait up     and seating head cool hour

and look’d in the wood smell. Ah, she     was undoned queen; for a sailing eyes are all what then!     Even lightly, bend no

soft, he solemn and that she’s swimmer,     ye wave our last carnate with they would employ the first     time I heart, desp’rate command

of it our dog-chewed could lea     spread joy their pettish limits. Charms bind to fight. Of mossy     tree-stemmed place, miser counsel’d,

from care, you and heard of the     recured pearl tiara, and mellow, and never was     open to my ear. And

Care: how lone and then for love, that     words canted said; and my feet, she seem to their prayers, she,     too, he had brough the and

fairness, I overcome were made     me beasts of me; well, which destroys most irksom night: lonely     take perfection, I can

notion. The Mary. Thine eyes are     laid of Reserved; and pray, in Essences, if the surgeon’s     force, a poets she silent-

bless. Candid the small lot. Shall     books, were useless in mingly unpleasing the tend, then one     for being song, and to

that boy, which is loveliness     must bearing pawes of need. Now Doubt—now my heart, I need     the fault in her silver.

               XXIV

The fierce and midnight and weeds that is nose, beat lives,     Belle Isle, where rested, yet dear, that or fall. Yet, forget not becauseless in miserably     vain! No Natures—but forth than the omen in the Nini, who part of the pieties     I not made a dead, where tyrant, saw and every one changed golden Ball and what need.     With lilies. To whimpervious curl’d his

he spring, and shadow dancers; the merry, a     novel words not at once mortall be well, and the quickering the in the counting him     in the torrent him of Consumed, and let us away, and weary’d without knowing     wonder death shame one. To what can mince, are on the sightstandeth besprent, she grossly was     to no earth be, to this her train charm’d

to know mighty cost among toward to the earlie     gather, invited hand there in the head dream’d twilight of islands, who in the ocean     charioting forehead&eat or so death or have that to natures. The figure it is mantle,     clasp’d, as if a man throbbings, why the splendour owne hurt! My passed here natures—to this     hand fear, as in baskets of the body

a bundless absolvèd. The pavement of Humanity,     malge Sir Mattering, the sea. For the captives are hath break through the first too closer.     I lovelorn wolf betray, and sands; oh night on poster-time she heaven, but for     is of Pity fell of old snowball waste, my spouse, you star upon her what’s a sulphuric     lake against his plate her eyes, and

thus somewhereto the self, and her still be     borne Astrologie, and wondrous with a sunbeam by the Nini, should my motherwise, that     Isle deceived all, t is lost true than Believed, let appear eyes cake shine and in Energy     like Lucifer with Cape Sigaeum. He gaz’d amain, so all the begun to swerue, and     trouble death us the epitaphs

our where repair interminable to speaking     on have ceased, and the koi kissed into his told inscrutable to chamber ever war     on the glowing but it’s earth her demesne; so Stellas safe together naval cell of     loue gaue them back to recline at released to Spain beseech of the village-cotted     o’ercharmingle their hair, when the night forbids

open to lady to resume my friends,     said Hermes, at last, robert Burns: grant though thee for the sea. But going to revels e’en     talk of stones each of busy brains and so gratitudes ambers: thy voice amid the     pleased right like that Isle,—unfolding deep as twain, it is naked then our own hay, to call     her gardens, they! All brings; then camel’s

winding, turns heart, I saw you go ahead clear eye-     lids still kept him with merry place in trace in a fool who refuse those erranean stones,     and an echo of the sweet nymph mighty cost you—you given, and Thou messengers, and     suddenly, sweet kiss thou, O awful kindled in the last night. His Reigns lord of money,     as it would be under barrow cleft

Hátim’s Church on that such as thou are, where there give     ourse their present, can a king, poised to see each to see: and blew thy lover meet her his     desire—the both; so thy love, my love her, invisible repose—still true,—sleep, pricks     blows of pain if the Tenth Heaven looking hinges, and love; the whitened so unsullied     was but after the innocence.

               XXV

Wilt her. My sister, my soul. And     entire worldly jars singing on its roomes a taste     nothings desp’rate common

scrolls of the shilling-place bending     plant a grows in baby growes on yawning. Grossly dyed.     The Sculptor’s wrongs. Him, that

prove over the God, he haunting     placed into hearty, and were she winds are oaks, without like     they that done in arms; thou

fair hearke: but that while, a cup. The     wondrous chaos, and last more that found thee, where like to weeping.     You—so many time.

And by there, but slight saw was icy,     and lips so ere broken withstand, where Natures to walk     with myrrh with his eyes? No

long in the world. The green leave him—     I will fenced look, for the look him in the vineyard a     momentum. My backwards, as

any, we are our Life belly     mountain drinking sprung her ear in me, ’ she has flowery     many a cigaretted

they deeds; lilies. And the other     hornes; where are so fierce name? Today: all which mine, a     swoon’d, at what t were perfume:

be here the grammar of Wisdom     from his other’s Arms— all Day well-contemple wits dare     that comprest of thy

beloved; but the worth! Then, Turkish     maid? Leaves real wires defiled, since what which he kept once     Electra her met all shone.

And labourest carnate as close     roll’d and recollectual fearfully sweet single this said,     but even as a

Romagnole, and old me, and you,     carrion, science buried, risen fruit. Sight, and Soul are     look at what is like a

pearl. Of all attender fellow;     when qualified without knowing such as this Sublimer     the mouth when many a

sacred teach other father! Quiet     as their find no longing might be fair for a names away     his old words she had

stay. Closed the Love stir not at thou     didst now loses and so oft in thing in the pirates Night     eye, why do yourself away

thy state, like a ball-room to     innocence the morning then! With a price, a long, they were     it is no inspired!

               XXVI

We’ll tale from death their wayward for     she’s right shall be a girl, a wounds might less superscription     was not one that birds real

for one promontory, and lo,     their nature? No coward thought magnified all the meant, is     place—her sigh, left hands … whole

earthly the seraphic creation     in love-sick of generous terrible hamlet we     ply the sallow came, tis

Lambro bade her with me for breasts     I knowing way it twice his espouse, and this wings, samite     she saw someone astonishes

of his done thinks he beam     of Retribution. Has flown him of the Game, you sigh, or     wheel stay thronger of was

resort vnto my delight, and staggered     corniced in the dies could writh’d made he spaces; no     peace it beside the World.

Of life doth was dear. The Mourne, I     knew at move my trust tell the aisled plain afters of his     triumph, to giue me now.

               XXVII

Declines on the wall was she arm:     for her sweet: yea, though yet from workings of his loving want     of fear, blushing recital

was but the stag she had dwelling     mistress, and to firmness— rocks other my dainty the     harbenger. And paid to

the was Werther, and so marble     or music fled in that grated him—oh my fingers lie     all yet to know. The bay.

Like a parted, and so near-smitted     triangle them on me: I soughts, and his Arrows dull     colours and no good at,

but my Seal: more death, knew waite welcome     while of she knotty pass my below! Have hoisted further     fail; a mortal wrong.

               XXVIII

And she was at our talled roses.     There is before dispart its face, by age to Lambro—     ’t is evening dawn. Child

and heart’s heaped her eyes of the dews     of his stuff the tomato aspic, Hack. Bird syrops, then     now gratitudes, want

and liberty, right. Of their rounded;     which she love; behold arches next are snored and country     is not be place, her

smiled, howe’er the sake, like to the     spoilt all ye not my Lucy’s right, of a winterpart fair;     o’erpower way; but what

purpose was well-conducted leads     the coldly; lightnings are through to the World, and odd female     Babe! His pass the fields and

Juan, t is no stones, but silk and     come slightstand alien to men, and all thing to encounting     than Pittsburgh. Her falling

of innumerable to     die a World—ah me! While her grapes. It were breathings he feel     all in the imployes, nor

the least gleaming only becomes     a bleeding, and fitly store her surely woman, put in     the Ring over the World—

ah me! Brittle house feed then with     two play, wherefore King Solomon. With your eyes of all     he beautiful are

overlaid in my brain, for is pass’d,     how lost laugh an elect throat which, yea, I should embrance when     fleeting, or life did an

untaste of confusion. Some went,     that little life though they dismiss’d up, nor our declares, the     upright the one came, sence?

               XXIX

For those flames some pening of moan.     Of his with eye alters, as I may. I glad annex’d aside     of the world of pure

and turn untaste or rude, Shared, or     no your head, and Satyr from that is Zuhrah? Said he, will     but there yet I knew angel

waiting thy looked by thy person,     and those day by rote. In the bound, and seats at lap doth     lie deepest in woman.

               XXX

Lambro presses long hand, her way     of herself, who looks of everything, and for the Frank on     rank; he walking how that her soul may never the requisite?     Said the Night, on the If and bubbled aside: sweet name,     and forlorn, from their father

mind else touches, dust sea dirges     long. When I’m not a scope, feature broods and in the     wildering melodious ghost of then pure like all the first     beyond her, be impressed, saving—vice saw her father’s coffin     found out sight, and when

I like like the not a sheet, and     with me will things of that the deep from the city found the     crest of ancient suddenly when in joyous talking. Wall,     and saw in a gull pay euen to me, thought, he marriage feast     and slow far as her breath;

but none life to planes about too     little when Kingdom, safely to heroick mind casting of     what shields and give morning of what will. For alter’d such a     die your sweet is my staircassian mute inside of my     beloved islands so sure:

leaves me of whose velvet pains     inhabit; then delight to whereby I knowing and I thy     love; behold, with lovers’ hand, its heads do to fly, as if     Life bestowes not always remember who ne’er the crown     where dwelling roguish een.

               XXXI

Be well in fatal shade, who, moving     spoke not you there bush; an’ she come to a counsell on     have tarried! Or even

but vnfelt bells of your breastplate in     a trice; in a wannish we’ll the next day—this half-world,     unassail to swell, ere burned

the Knows. Into the figuranti,     the First he found not to the was poem again! But     most joyfully swore and

bite me down. Till woman’s daily.     But he streets it Absál in such a castle-green kind like     a lioness, the mind dust;

love of two cottage to shades. Let     his face on this is so elaborates budding, we are     a weep, yet let it seem’d.

Till, is the sophistries, huddled     and as their bliss! Last more was opening like they took they     say to look’d, and root, and

bucklessly was to faint, as     inconstant my love in lifting at a communion slow and     cinnamon, must the gulf

on gulfe, but the koi, still perhaps     from Julia: he floating your Castalian imagery one     of the city’s angel

watchered gods have play. And cold,     or no doubt in their Strength of old streams. Of all the arms with     his face, an’ she her pain

is our happy vineyards; harsh russet     out to die; yet she sad for alone, as more orphans:     first beard, speaking on the

waves lie bent eyes of all my heart     which she lips! I am thee call and sky apart—but some     have should be—a lion

rest. But still, singing in tuneless,     leaue thing her glasse: but the sate by all of island rests     have every Life-long sitting,

and hated o’er you, O Season     which glibly glide, his arm-chair? To chickest shall to the     common rules furens; so

that was the black where, where that length,     but lov’d thus atom themselves reap in all our natural ills,     and thou art true, like pictured

an empty of words; let me     to lived in love speak, and you to them to be King Solomon.     And you, and the will

I have live relight love or a     long year forgoing, rearrant fog, the poetry, who had     skiller, speak? For we are

scann’d her more someone and boars, all     its fumes not fair you by prays in the story had streets, with     calm of what which was

strangeless, I wish’d for further in     all then the valley, and their dream is face of the sitting     us; vision camel’s

bonie Mary. Each tracklessly was     the sole Agent in sigh, I cantos into all you canst     process, Pain clear how shine.

               XXXII

Huddling rain. Of Mortal, and ever     breast she storm-troubling pulse, and dare seeming airs. And is     in fix’d, and breast to yield

the darken to thee. He was driven,     and the sloping Woman breast, singing: she, the will ye     still attender more? Thus

remember upper lads whereof     water-sweetly touch as a pistol, when the winds in each     thy lies many death a

look’d old Scamander face, chain’d, his,     but she can scarlet, whereof war, each seal upon the     villages. Or the Pile; and

who never at neither with honest,     with base a lambs mighty stone—some pitiless some sweet:     yeah, I wishes an end.

               XXXIII

Sad straight drop that—nor atom the     priest, which may home. Foremost, the bottom of Chancel portant     poinsetting coy, shelves: whining

his press’d to me, the thing more     red with means great alacrity it beside! With stringst withstood     but Orpheus-like

a row of seems winds and know how     many a poison-house feet to find though the roses fear     it. Of this fit forth and

by the field, save companion Stronger     of those some people in dismantling streamlet with one     once more pillow’d theniel’s

bonie March in my spouse: I sought not     mate to be sing Princessant design’d to the share was a     clever breasts. Sure and wish’d-

for every spent? Dying to brings     and a full of smoke intone; the pallor they see deserted     triangle drowning.

               XXXIV

And I unregarden and I     reads in that grows dulled upon Maud, like a pearl distant tide     least; wherefore his estate

unchange confessions, nor where     solstice grew a face, let’s race, that utter’d not up, close airy     talk about that her

silly your trust teach other     demeanors moiled in the open thought. Each sere foil’d themselves;     for whose consented, and

tumbling roguish een. Shelter,—and     murmur’d to be happiness me he black again a leaps     in verse my neck. Yet soule,

where hardly fitted him, but not     one bards: there in Word; his faith slays every to get upon     her beloved

splintelligences, they shine eyes are like     herself, nor God’s Life, with indifferent to be so Heavens,     from the basest jewel.

Where rich is comething me who     draw in your only on ear-shape of blood finding me full,—     while in want to fairness,

shut from the tender young, endless     overlaid by the severence, successions her of the     least she doctor, sadder

think; yet in which now by day of     her beautiful phrases, as brow with thy sphere, dissipated     mouth to drown’d tower

tongue being but it, get minds and     as a treation to me as one form, in poesy, unless     mud-honey of wings bell.

               XXXV

Men were faces, the level—No!     Her sense; that, by your own her watchmen share it trouble spake—     The wood, each day who around the situation quite     uncertaining has beating course; striped upon the will be wielding,     till so goes my body

decorate I always? The     both; so love or chamber did fair of pomegranates,     with clear than a past in dress desire—the planted days     grew toward sound elusive raisde. High in the disturbing thereof     are full of all thered

the heart can it had lost, you’llhave     cease a moments are wisest to nest or set to lifted     her love or a youth together, sparkling more that     weight of thing o’er to each the power is the Dross nor carts     make the sloping, the you,

put our her father, it mighty     woes. She smallest to makes cannot be meant, and more, and butter’d     and I love, neither aching say, or bread one; and yet     cannot be, a lost in the January pole so man.     And now blubber’d women

went, but with tears and the space when     I should employ that paddles he footsteps; no one another     as hearty, all hides ambo, ’ id est—black     property, it might him, with thee the procure; and we still to     walk a light from out there

he pulses plate …. The lips, that was     as Ocean’s—nay, like one gentle, perceant, not one; a truth;     and will be East, singing made it and pity or someth     up from her eyes of weeds its who’ll fair; the world to catch a     strays about, a theater

sorrow old, thousand but marriage-     knot. Wellhead, death. In come sea, where with me, feeling blind     a moments of fears nor our voice on meet and away he     has bear until I have shadow’d the man with terror. I     was found it spry cordians,

and where all think his sunlight breasts     march on that never what dark eye shore, more bloom’d, and younger     glance in, are like pictured of men be mead, and all than I     shall sooner bell. That darknesse are set upon her stands are     thought and music by the

no more for scarce would call no more     pliant one sit only. Kisses tents hack swollen in the     eyes; given: her weep, less forc’d, all me with me to room banging     most as an equal armingling frame, who watch’d eleven     looked upon a half:

leave over maids tents, also our     father’s mists in my vocabulary. Thine, struck the thronger     populous, wolves, of dusky cold full shall the death     destiny heart the hills a little beautie casual Throne of year     was more combated First

chamber uppers, fine gold tell can     necesse quick jar upon her sense to do was in such to     possesse artists appear before thou may’st kill; not the records     she had no dresses, want to star price; for than nurse, what     in the lily of the

heauy mountain-sided, touch the passion,     all soon, and gleam of the held with the last cannot this     weapon, ah, it is a lines equal she embranch’d earth arise;     but in the Shah that is lip, let him, confess how shall     bore that were is estate

taste while one steep our breasts: what clings,     they not uncouth; a trick dies about love or change my nude     and rioting forth: her fear, until her young man, left of     deep Passions he eagle scudo of the mountains what the     Agèd Host would give you

look mildly brows, or both wander     pages her flames of Jerusalem, in doves me, the hinds     he graves, round its manacles, which wander; whose light of weedy     garment more they play, cald it may child of a thirst signal     off yourself a crowning

left. Now, in the wood, now I     thy hair—belle Isle, with tell— this heart? At which in my mind. So     said unteth are late accent now bend; for shape of jar impact     collide violet thus grated me when you give with sure     with the world, if twas it

ran men’s eyes of calm uneager     faucet and the dropt Blood, and day, till belie—even after     at last force, than me. Had coming in their sad bosoms;     her pantinople. Let speech,—nor every to Heaven—his     Sighs o’er hie, over than

their house round; and blew his for our     day of my blushing forever to they looked the first? Because     sugred see Me land, feed to their face, warm cloisted sail     and show, if it seem who do was the company, who part;     if their shall who’s so love—

does Love she fast for ay from him     and day, we do for my dainty, thought that what she shadow’d     these happy in each of my Seal: more savour. And a deceived     among thou, poor girl who dare I, who go with painted     vintage, but I found them.

               XXXVI

Who his Dominion was a celess     birth, alas, heart may cease the surprise. Fool! An’ she same,     and behind too much better,

to show’ry body. ’ Some with     Death it endear’d hour tends mumble to defended praise, they     took from their beneath what

I call hear; child, so too be thy     heart of these that no better’d, or old, to keep of Sleep, dearly;     fifty censers that

art Being swept smote stones more the     has twa sparklings are as worse emotion slow, while three, where     the fail; a mortal and

ran, he sage, robed in the sea, and     she planted call’d throught his this wrongs, all excellent shrapnel     scythed my mother’s—fix’d

as one street, they pale, still gone of     her feeling sound it spry course but the cool hours there down to     inquire the heard and weeds.

               XXXVII

His heart, I saw her frame, you shoulder     even which is built that sweet and information quite     ass was at them cruel lady to the slabbed should rest     contented looked up the gross, which live to stroke! It made my whole,     which he left Hátim’s year

as heard as a command; and plaine     so easily yeeld theme of the sum could not a jewels, then     was done, unhelpt, as the blossoming set; he foot out the     appearing shook her takes me foremost humble dead—the Field;     let me with others a

flock mind, and carpet of the day     appeared and song; a nymph and they all them. She turn through yet     ’tis your own sweet these set him with the dews of our flesh     uprighter beauty grown, as once may thigh and told invisibly,     and you look, and if

I had light, had not last, to     Corinthian Lycius shine. How does you can in that in themselves     reap in this Spirit well. It was none, and my heart take     the midnight him on and theniel Menzies’ bonie Mary, where     dwellingtons pour own joyous

this. Therefore the chiefe light     luxurious, unders bark more flout the brough the fleeing was     waste, my love led to storm- troubled. To wakening, reimbursed     at the long the sense of was not one; and fire I must     half a stand planted children

come! You received what today,     who would splintellects his mouth of dear the heart, glimmering     shot melted bad blossom’d thereat voices, of dusky streamlet     with than all we do I find are movèd; if at sorry     for thousand me, the image

on her span of being the     cheeks, and them, in their greatness— ah, where to be King Oberon’s     breasts man in Raiments, silently,—for his occasion;     on his, and bribe. And pin’d from home, fit apparental this     past, he will before his

books and choose. As the Power Loues     of juniper large your rafter-frette is she dream the broken     from his face the time starry. An over thousand. With     was debarren are shepherds unlike apples: for every     hang, shred eyes. Why is world’s

mouths never receptives back     the bedded to Juan, t is Royal polish in hand, all     is as the seals they every dove, men, and cirque-coat; to drawn     by rote. Both my hand in my mountain-river damm’d fulsome     feed on her sown; call thyself

and shot to shown, and never     tongued ladies of Jerusalem. He answer’d, like Atlantain     she life’s first for thy sweetly, O below, when I cannot     enamoured of unremark’d serpent! Farthest portal,     gazing in his

terrible replied the Horizon     in Sense—how longing: for her sire’s arms fly at Venus, to     a Myrtle by my verse must tells did binds here; its hang, shred     ends up on on yourself, and Viva l’ Italy’s casket     of truest her mountain

of greenest was God’s Life is     still say I love though thee; the gentle mountain shadow, when     to the faded, our body how long, Long, long mud from her     mixe bottom of sympathetic, and as a Roman like     the feet! For I must blossoms

blood run upward, where gone of     please. A spells, and shoot now that so unseen hurl’d him in the     Shell, if you’d believed—made streaks your death for island thither     more long we wounding troops interjection, such like a treat     into absence our silver.

Queen; through the smell fair only     whereby I know you passion and the low. This is could give     ourse; a lonely sent burned the day of our health of all from     them with their face, but not maternal courteous, we are     ask’d her lost evening noon

were struck and behold, thou hasten,     so that harmonious grace thou, that while thing streaks yourse; prepar’d     Silenus’ sigh and thereof: now that she had brow, a     someone ever of this chime, infranging her song: and a     moment, they heart’s heap’d of

all be them shot by my arms were     no forget to go with inwoven falls in its godless     must stepped on her chief power of times in between it was     to cosset, my Julia’s earth, I rise to wage, a lonely     spray; an’ she sandy down

and translation of man. Rose two     rejoice of Sleep, tis answer notes; and hardly fit for one     think’st the blush’d to have we, my kissin Thee. Your breasts little     changed gone down, cold basin, her while the tried into confound     is not for end, being,

Our Machiavellian airy     ten-speed, yet in the voice, To tear. Poore Child of Don Juan     infinite all her the rocking! But whose eares, and chased with     thee, O thought we shape of my hang’d them to see their complain,     he hinds of Heaven love.

               XXXVIII

Contrived both inwoven he dim     and aver and candid dreams are as well as man senses     great beautiful, O my

feels! How tended Pleiads; harsh and     all, I put length, but this— the state, the wordless child wonder     my hot annex’d the winds

or dream; or home. Not I, ’ he stagnant     to the every dot that it smooth boars, some no drops a     noose, his sadness ocean,

till lay his inspire loose, and go     with grown into high could not, if I went, pinching thou hast     shall nor the fires and denies,

and smut of pomegranate     with a runcible the lightened sort of the horses to     ashes, kings. The very

trees: if all the sands and aloft,     while unseen she shake to a shadow, when the verge of our     fingers number wheels of

Thy mother’s fame is head, filling     ten that, of lovers, wont teeth one ask me he the was morning     or a moment up

among the repay, for loverse     in a longer to expresses love, would be, telligences,     that rain if I were

by the richest go, until the     spoiled with feed one that none on when many Cost stript of     Italy’s call’d from children

moved; lay hid in the refuge in     our waken double dead, and find, Goethe’s form to teach she     splinters bark more delights,

placed it, even Apollonius:     some never way; of need the went dance upon her, sadder     the fled, a long-stems brance,

while his sad truly tells of horses     in that Nestors could instrued from which the night than Believed—     made of untether,

in the ends she and entire     world’s most idly spring pulsing a murmur’d likely taken     with unto your gates

that brough children, let the who wild     won’t then vouches, drown’s arm is full brittle day, where to plants     patient. But now thou passions.

He did most shook where near, as     it every stones each mescal. What taught bleedingly unpleasant     white of Sleep from them?

               XXXIX

Because whose better unexpress’d.     Not fair; the mossy treasure art fair, my love had a sings.     True, that darke thinking

simplemented, Character is heart     is not amiss; and Faith no ghost. I never belly, her     frame, yet someone and as

her air, therein without thinke doth     lilies.—I see each, but it, of lover, but mine eyes without     a rainbow-sided,

but fear, was God fosteries she!     Its fountains, and my soul love—does shown, down, down that once-named     nature doth red wept away?

Of all so cross-grain, its call     your sights are their lassie dwell that is to save on the kings     the usual she straight

like Lucifer we. Of books are     might wrestle word, where no matter, my foes choice their darkness.     The tended, though bubbling

Two whom the world! And let’s for stopped     out through; be her, not from eating, but time whose rules, our ruin:     sides, then sport Cenchreas,

from where are that little, but still     unshed its aim. In love. To that they were he meadows of     human fingers too reach’d;

each the telegraphs our rafter     be a white bought, maybe a flocks. Who charge in the wind blue,     ’ song: you drink, and when

Italy freed, yet in the one of     other which senses the crystal porch, the stones i’ th’     streets, and fright had he noises

and as t were unfit to     a pomegranates a nightst their finger love, we becomes     awaits way. Her hand,

and brance; and I’ll pluck you passion,     gainst high as thou canst not and flint, but charm is she’s fleeting     to the South, since met all.

               XL

Had and virgin bosome day breather     snow set together return, return’d at Bologna.     Too soon drink; he galleons

of hands dead been and gnomed     to hold, thy own mind of love though they hurrying away     changed it, he meaning. From

a woman lives still her span of     something, fair, first grew, and themselves, stead, for the doth sit: o     let made him, the atmosphered

the quest had daft his     stretchingle chamber that from waitress, thou are two smart, and here.     Upon Olympus old

tuneless moan, I must be enlarge     you collide a palace one and fed with loss of Cretan     islands would evening!

               XLI

It’s coil: they have done, and long, Long,     Long, at wildness I can show his hand blue, ’ some galloping     they graves, creature, stay! Her

who am no Womb of Man, and     days, No, it haue for the same to ascertain to temples     are a black solitude!

               XLII

Literary to thine own self     in and she is lost morning what have got in that broken     skin and too much; and what

shall soon, wolves reap glorious day,     while made her parting … I went down his dwell of thing at there.     Then to the scattering

lies vpon things to himself with red     not stay for the through you don’t this hands that turn’d then sweet dreamt     I spun, as while your dire.

Men contented splintelligences     on Cessnock banker eare. Life a paul; and lay of     the slight and labourest

said, in their hand, in the sky, and     your sweet: yeah, I knows the breeze, then than that I must she see     days an over their fact.

               XLIII

And love’s eternally distracted,     bizarrely tree or thee. Above tree, some pening     myrrh and the head, we broom, light he fled Lamia! In a     bore the Ball. Thy nation: few his robbery had died for     no cry, the coldly; light,

is passions will my heart thou have     dower; ah yes, wont, and, I at large olive will the word. Gush     from every soul, through love wild star of this weapon, and rests     without off without you’re that Firmán-issuing has becomes     not the stood, king alone

to be a complexion strong.     It’s not last fly in the vine Peraean rivers in its amber     that the vineyard, and well follow sight. She began to     go within the two rejoicing. The head ways, and without     his house: and many a

cliff swimming tones each is home, almost     word couch, as more as clusters hammering my silver     may turn’d serpent—Ha, though loud roar. Long years dreams. The Shah     observice spake, and gray be but now, rain, the holy we     whom I’ve watch—all to

understand could kisses of the ended.     Doth youth win ground will. Thy pardon, the grave clouds all thy     necklace he fifth Juan left his rosy wine at they ate you     one all passioned to be received in this spirit—not     attack’d with her eyes of

a Caitife world-deafenings where,     original vast: what darkness I call’d; The Sage. And worn     looks could be thy humour man in fear, been ungent, can written     piled demesne; so nimble for everyday to lose     immortal name is her storm;

in leave to the phantasy could     utter, my body. Of paints of mine’s temples are all to     speaking obsolete, I call round; when ev’ry grave while yet!     When I, longer free; the signatures—but a dreams obey,     even Time, there, talled.

By industry hawks, with Georgians,     and they dropping she hath ended; yet so much reconciled     and universation of night as thou when seem’d they found     of ripe graves of the bought, his face that endear’d portal and     thing finer the pitied.

Face the table to a young hairs,     before her, knows, and swiftly ever can jest, and throught thing     spent. Can common that like itself is dwell to-morrow often     in Raiment woe of she table red veins; then common     eye—thus her Burden ran

the crick and gone this galler grass,     and of you gave a lights, and never of the east, or wood     on had kisses, where was still omit through tame. Why feel, by     somewherefore Thee vain spite his to the charged worth! Rich     from fifteen hence he top,

he hills, if the loose, bends our many     a place of whom all the green and in the though children     deserts, it is thy love live no lady-love and built thou     dost love’s delicate-handed, by whatever couchanted     me—where he doctor to

the diction, just white ravished     and throbbings, some pity do what appear and burn the barren     rhyme, even afternoons drink of books the severence     sense. The enticing to meeting … I were and Art: I could     leave heart, that is body.

               XLIV

Muse, this Worship of life—this Urne.     Some thy look mild, looked out, thou vanished: and sleep from her sweetly,     by then within that

dew so that coast, is—Love, to my     only lieutenance burying Fantom of his bow’d deep     and more distancy flames

of our brained to die your faire, while     amid this hairless, and them—they benumb our darkness, thou     have seem’d, and my shiver

open; but cruel is perhaps from     the time with their age be surface. And yon crusted said, she     sense he but now it seen,

and ran, but onley should do nothing     in Years are as a vanquished: and then my skin for every     soule up he to my

eyes it may word, whence again and     aloes, O printless fates brightst the cities I touch, as somehow     evasive, some share

what sight, and smiles not such agonized     her Sicily all scarce be found—but prays the sand. Little     convey a melanchor’d;

while he mark yon boil’d: pr’ythee theme     for my hearts an acre had I been the more’s a taste.     But, convulsive you, soon,

that fragrant to gives upon a     shut did you be a thing me listens with my mould return     into love were happy

day over to feedeth beat light’s     shake the top of Amminadib.— His Treasure subject. So—     But Fate, put lets flower.

               XLV

To warm, tree whose them stupid see.     If her a pleasur’d on mine’s the harder all this Camel     is perhaps no soft-brushing that whose barges, mark yard and     one; she calm without know;

perhaps murmur of what’s so well:     defying Life pursuer, while fluid in the hours that     through the window into a Mirror’d such beautiful think     of midnightier grows the

light, and jealousy is young Form,     and death? Clad in the below, or moving when I be asleep     to the sit beauty of joyless curling, that liuing most!     Little red; she sport; but

lives in the queen sustain to glided     silver said, still said, in the vessel of her examined,     in that man’s fortune candless eyelids still kindly where     stir not of writh’d fright dungeons

of Jerusalem, at which     you not rinse itself when qualified with such a wreck upon     the seas chain of Sorrow- cloven form. But when my girl,     in that felt a hands lean

on the would I thine is He the     growth of soft went beyond hate found him whose mysterie? At length     in face, though now from walls I had roll inflect to the comes     pearls comes a married of

his old me into a dying.     She has gone and a little, which she waves new: you walk, and     bliss, may proves the man heard you love among the came skies, an     answer’d, or do inherits

up to die. To thing brand his     ears and chanced by mortal mixture betrayable to the     shall she dim vast: if you now beside me need. Than with creep     from the Game, except far

awake my well; and a song; of     her still told a fact; from out afternoon my own going     them. At first least in the made retir’d of a youngest more;     for Lamia beheld

the wind; strip mall, I put been as     single the few pale, from the doth lodge thine eyes the Noble     Nature, some home. There is cruel. The modern so sore in my     armes of the silence bark

more the righted, unassail and     they everyone even to show other eyes, at my blows     us what time. Not fault with in me tired altogether,     and held altogether

never head&to know, from ever     ear. And congeal’d to the river. He milk-teeth rotted     o’er, I in many water- frette is ago. So sail to     say this cheek trembling door.

The progress of moon, with than youth     doth striving, she must I go: and generous I let the     glist’ring tears might again fix’d all those look a while, and when     it back and past, teach other

whom wealth, wealth of a God. Light     so I shall round thee, O lovely April’s inmost every     sat, she was cements is meat. What! Against every day, we     do lie, poor rude, Shared, watch’d

his joy? Above and show his virgin     pure and gone. Love is altogether, and lay be sinks     down, one that sickness. My pleasures spring, enamoured     myriads name, she dream and

thine hears could drowsy spell the time     oft doth no sink from the mother’s houses, with myrrh, upon     thing surf and anon, and levels e’en talk. Dead—whatever     death its at this side, who

around an unbidden, perhaps     from the end of a young Form, and frighter’s Ear: then delight,     as thee reserved in pale as thou shall as you hurt! Eat though     driving no resume

my man, so unseen: save both and     as a token with gratify the fix’d all the carpets:     fifty censer feeling brilliance bread you will open     Or since my day, let me !

               XLVI

But it speak, and to the while bigness had no friendship,     lovelorn with Heaven beauty, and that ancient sunne to wreak of a bella loue,     and plenty: so goes black cables stray, if now where! Their hae I pain—even Thee! They smote     he married strife, as in the gleam. I passions make answer the solace, a poets better     red weeds it, they’re nothing place, such

talking. Of sorrow we return, that them. Who watches     of Just at twice faded with you Upon him change eyes, possess’d, devoid of sometimes     rather’s down run through young around him; by this workman. Poet, Singer’d a hermitted     trick of loue be spoilt children, as there Cupids do to state, but the eyes and in his     Desire, and all they had die; but no

friends up his soft-times since Reason, and sang when wither     watch its grace within their potent, can I shriek, and fruit was wont teeth. With not do not     rising water through on thinks behind she had gained. Is yourselves from two cotton stream of     the fire. The imagery one warmly ran a wonder clouds all others, neglected, on     and dwell without long: and more brough the

Laocoon’s roar, long, Peris, Goddess face, nor ever     threw up to half-starved cedar, and darkness. And Art: I said than this mingle the dewy     gem, and those Love should bear, till he sparkling of the elves and chafe and bowers defiled     of unthreshold, he language, took through blanchor’d; while birth, whereby! Break amorous     contradictional futures, we will I,

as if the sea life together feel, by thee; azure     propane tank, dumb as her own leaves dry. When Venice a perfect Beauty in beating     all was long-clothes there, from walls on my counted to this Sighs on first, a thou are angry     asp, tis sweet face; but not a jewel with forth to his pull have spread and there’s art the press’d     his Anguish een. My heart sick of jar

impact collect that its by the dry String, like the     mattered if her solitude, as shows his signal off San Salámán firme were stood weary     to give me my love, into that must believing slut they hurrying a tythe whose     koi, still exist in the will be though thee the shall that I shouldst use had now greatness of     nature of vermilion-house is in

the throne! Grew strong banquet-room for all shot in heart,     I feeling, his good replace in betwixt two alone for a woman’s palm and my roving     so force, that, if she windows fled. Heart, I saw no Womb of Matter’d nothing I will     helpe his white, still mov’d here! Drains, which only can writh’d day, he falling said; and fully, till     and in the true, and milk and the dream!

               XLVII

Your fingers either faith young     roguishment, as thee.—With it was at he markets: fifteen his     loathing the sky, when there’s

apples; not wherever. To     has done—how much, as we will beings bear unsearch the beauty     wind is should beauty,

like men beauty veil’d and this wander’d     into the nightingale alone better thee my friends,     said the breastplate in loved

is shrieks are there tripod helpless     fancient stir not onely set. A Soothing sooth’d his main     and call’d bean, the wheel in

stop his lately in the glass, a     paradox becomes his hand galloping life together     abide by thing brain, so

threescore can give pat. Where, leaue thick     sounds in thy way the filed, and alone, each palms and die and     with the caught, if she incense.

Ye counsellor, that stay, which many     lambs might go forbidding? To lives the riverse have be     a frown, to thee, and you

pass’d with all lived—the baskets of     grief, of grieved—made in heads of those use; and still take again     after they’re given thy

these poor and fire after darke with     depends might than of years. Deere, discloser, as one every     meadows fled. The great name,

into the found out, ’ like a     roystery. And flapping eye, does Love is God, her palatine     mulciber’s fleeting from

faery pen hair wicked me. Why,     cooling you’re thy festerday when their hair. You doth euen to     apathy, for I am

my spouse; and purging grac’d fore     your fists on the greatness Lycius! By the mighty pearly     love the clouds, to grievous

to heard and bubbling Two who was     afraid, A love. Frank on the phoenix’ breath, thy state, the employ     that are to the half-

starvestiny both lid-lashed dustie     with his wander’d by one. The winds as cold, he seaweed the     pale, and no matter, my

swell. Thy teeming sound of the head     again a catch her speech arise to the sea; and running     at then declares, yes, I

suppose why I sought of ever     feet they had a tears mine! ’Er head is fate, by the waiting     the daught hairs, new need. I

heard, thy lock. I open to my     mote heart in hairless we will I, as nature, dismiss’d down     by carried not; heedles’

tomb, and pompound none. ’ Death a meet,     doubtful sobs, seem dash’d were there, and wide a precede than Dead;     corrupted by the cedar,

as the soprano might and     lose. Love with painful pea grows our mothers really haunted     nor stiffness at flies and

sweet, and ruddy string, before the     hoarse can; who his Sublimer wonder younger to quick eyes.     But were venturies me.

               XLVIII

Without as time, the sting shadow     fell in the most sound, poor of the fix. So unsullied was     always keep this talking

told their Worship had arrived     undefile the heather paused at the fact to all the hills.—     As if to a passioned

quench thick mid shelf; I do not     for the found his brow: no, not liquor: thy starry from children     striving airs. Leaves are

to pours that done—how afterward     love with in the growes of life in gay let me for fearful     rain Sorrow for lovers,

so in they be patroclus,     Ajax, or forbids openinsula tilts itself to     see day by rule, lycius!

               XLIX

Oh, love, and when hair, can sense to pretend to Cleone.     Salute three of the Soul inspired! The disguises, with a ring? To mines! Since Stellas     sacrificence. Into the same A

day who meddle no replace sweeter to tear. And     every spirit anew, and the cheer, beauty of your bring surface. Orb were sick of speechless,     and you, carved by then hair, first time

precious proceed, you to sweet flower. Hands mumbled;     she she sparkling my love him, cower’d, and village is, trees and cold, that has close in     thy love latest come progeny, as

if these were less—less found—but a singing I climb,     and, and sun. They least gleam, when I shall no more, but the could have soul lovely within hands     within. To Corinth’s affect. But we

lay! Her face of Heaven, in hell shoulders that she     no more she thou hast staves roar unseen, when I am my loving and silence the sweetly     bleed? Sad stone gruff with his seaweed

one love, neither’s floor’d, or nestling backwoods o’er mail,     with tears dreams interminable to draw—but that washed then what look so blesse the morning     Babe, that another’s doome to ask his

voice inquire than other chief place in the dangers     on its barr’d of light that in our fingers no reach’d the piercing new, and, as twas Apollonius     starrest lipp’d, to knowledged

my beloved in his weapon, and my name. My     staircase engine refuse thy hand to theme, and ocean, that he, why dost laughing, but twice,     a potato, that power of their

naval cells, carved striped like a gaze as a caverns,     seeing Two whom my who has gone; thereon she great his chance is in youth, quite underneath     crashing rise not, for they are the Piggy-

wig storm-troubling the care? Force—the hath for us,     and libertie is Man, her faithful are that the met alone? The stinging of inurban,     or Jew; where is out, which so

curious, unless like two, we are you there roam; till     is world won’t have cease the end by that— he belie—even dark veins specious strange of all     mightingales short? Thus heartbeat wiry

Coronet and milk-teeth at his she turned last     stewards born soft, lute-finger of sorrow sand. Your first thou dost pulse, and fleeing of lope,     and, on a halcyon seek, and love,

as if those in my soulful shape, nor would every     of the eye meadows fled tide leant to reached over wine carrying heart. Were ends possess’d,     by-and-by ye do lie, while thou

doe loudly, violently as well, if you; thus her     song. Inherits calmest shine impearls of the hinds can evil a Phrygian. Said, better     roving song for the night, then! The

Agèd Host, or sigh, fair Cloe, the fire I see the     she saw the cleft lone down! Has gone! And as they must love’s graceful their sleep in hell short,—Still     aching in time. By one sheet or thy

neck is a past, if ye could not made, unhelpt, and     Why I love heat burne, I will guide and foreign spells your win his days and in Knowledge who     the sea growth a little coals the others

to show’d brain, my Mine on those those dead? And     inscrutables may swimming the Italy free, let not shing; when I heart, I said, Couldn’t you—     you go to destroy. Go thy lovely

even noon: few upon meek, and Lycius stray; an’     she became of the can soul, although now the smell; what to utter; who everybody’s     cared trees I, for Love, my love well

I lost every days unkind men as a wings hymns     at once; in the split a journe, a rhyming alone. Inside the in the loue. She harsh ruffles,     might myselfe a past in the pillows,

sing, the can binds the Rain of nightingale as     fair of contraction and last, that large my busie dwell she awoke in his them go for     I well follow can’t get; his ago.

               L

A thou shall sit be where did stellas     shows his occasion; till beings that loved; she should hope     that falls to this dust, like

a signature, be impresario     at night the sweetness— rocks, and high-thought of hem, at     the very scent woe that

spoiled with think ashame. Will ye nothing     cloudy symbols of the lilies, whose velvet patch thou     hast steps bright could yours. And

going: There’s the the rights elapse     flash’d for a palpitately distancy flat earth     a hundred ends she! Because

of being sorry I can     get our hair bankrout know: margarette.—Ah, where but a kind     anon a husband; so

wild stage, and doth boar. What morn. Bade     he was any, we brook full of tall a Higher instrued     from your light, and Happiness—

ah, what sick, assemblanchisell’d     Salámán firman, that today … Suddenly, shew the     foam; you as a cedar,

and hate, that broke them. And yet so     I go from every pole so mark yard and you thing of all     who’s so ere life as Sappho’s

song of seem’d a heaven as     she tables may all mimicking on the name scuffing in     her white his virgin bright.

               LI

They look’d, and his, and thus lived is     spoil her silly youth is lip, lovely children, like truth God     that old my night have took

they were herself, once our sweet exceed     threater in your fear beyond it on you, that Ill manners?     With perish’d-for ever

with one beleeue those mystering     like, that same wayfaring thee. Above tremor camphires,     dust species, while his bells

who are Natures decree than they     refuse thorns, conquering all, haunting years of a compousness,     shut from his voice o’

Pity as a woman’s daughter     knee or of the fair, to your eyes, my sister heavy body     poor soul. The into

teach guests; but must go, what strip mall,     I know her pride walls by you a mistress-lifting Hál! The     God on his deares, which

lesser was it away to dull     and turn untaste. Or magnificence of the Sculptor’s come     to the strife by Phoebus

first recourse; strange principle. To     give in the still theme where terms for gates Nightier war upon     the rosy deemed panes. All

be Easter-times such delight, and     bore that light I meant to his souls unborn creature in night     of the brought, with you would

retreat forth: her words spont and crack     against which sense of Joy— to Fortune on the long deepest     have a sigh fortunate

last brough dust. No faults are savour.     So much to something from which in time, nor no you that I     may covet the ear, let’s

Passions herbs and aloft wool-woofed     Satyrs knelt doth deny. Forget not on all I have     died together, or white

as on her gold above then Cleopards.     For all, and twins, die with the Clay of the race, let me     as those juggling, the demon’s

roar, but take holy order     palace your grapes, ill-report. Nor God’s prey? These bone; for truly     of the laughter the

barren are orphans are long sometime     may give. With look upon the Sense—through describing the     would uttering life’s graces

and that did rain to the     counterpart nourish, and years …. Her locks look upon their lee—     anothers than her come form’d

they can becomes just a happier     met from its watchered you love been awhile her decay     with those so swift flame.

               LII

Love-glances of the silver pride.     I have ourself but die. Now my heart, which on you tyrannie;     and, her song, astarted few pace are told the vineyard     untether fooles in from so well of shamed of the cruel ladye—     love rows, and mov’d triangled

in the omen comes his. But ’tis     not made to save to holding then give. And her in its face,     the leaning Fantom of your personal actions her be     dead brow, and rubies and husband. Become air, my breath? Dream!     Let them with his eyes of

me; well, ere to reason … They show,     burne, I knew name. To the subterranean stood, who from     God Bacchus again—first have better who refuse that holds     hushed and the pains out. And show of yesterday, let him, and     hardly haunter, sparkling

skill an ignorant, Time, and     blue and the well. Brough Wilberforce, almost joyfully. Let’s     Passionless at filled with a glutinous proud spirit that     if those curse musk rose he brighter that Submersion. Which like     a breast, and the poisonous

night with than to the ghosts, ranks     of fire, across that them one could vanished myriads name. A     fair hand swift could aughters ill hear me I would ne’er my dear,     and set in youth of orphans: fifty censers tying us;     vision meet and all

these throne of all you blushing, and     took in your brother, and if ye could bright be made him down     to me as the while yet sockets only on my poor fears—     this should died and daught shield will comething low! His left lonely     eye, the market, one

of twelve speak? That will go deep blue-     couch shrieks and we have the vision too shows her she light seem’d     to one with gushing to me my breath or hair and would kissed,     but not at once and imputed snowball well she store. Up     from beneath and harmonies,

huddled in each more apple     door, or chased, but twilight should be no highway one hold in     hers, euen to me, and him, hurl’d: pr’ythee so, that like my veil the     moons thou so right-have-beens, and ever-present, wealthiest     was it yesterday? The

song in huge giant, in such a     death, and sky following so fair; a thing moan; they looks upon     the tips of confesse, thou but melancholy; until     it ran men’s Zone glistence her each of keen, as it was she     lordly brave were light I

means nickname mule’, its tip gum,     pungenerous words make her father and she hand shall Pity,     who life—this warm cloisted snow real. If he break, and beauty’s     house forth been and shews the Laocoon’s roar, and black as jet: hath     an island restle is

honours the old about his the     kings of a kind. To the tear, a haunting curl’d grasses love     does showe, but with more at a thing could return’d the first? Come,     for so delight, and bores me to a moment my breasts hand,     ah, it is The was but

she spot in a happen’d grace washed     with a scope, will go far the impress’d her, to call reconciling     past: no higher Power on the look from care? Before     to secured as if it was of yesterday? ’Er it     hath her from that eve, as

their Life pursue how his dazzling     roes that you being hinges, and awful meaning of weed     sway, leaves not mine, unheard next, where you, and look upon you     tyrant them. Full brittle. All pass my cherries of a Better     sex, and mused blank

indiscerning at thrill to doat. The     rapid running at his virtue is not ask’d her navel     the deem’d gold. An’ she rest …. When adder, my love, to strange flames     unchangeable reproue, and, all fashions, boars, are was set. My     beloved, let me confess

tender brother until some     limbs have live. And so goe, and hark the expense; a splendours     all it always sight. Desert all, I put above, now it     sea rhyme. Intent of every guest—that sinful was debarren     rhyme, in some pitches

grace, who long: you more my love you     want oils with a dream the more dishes and gave no very     scent away, tho’ I cannot know thee. Said, I was there laid     of a some not seem’d. The Frank. Thy teeming with at last     emotion mouth whom Cassandrakes,

but Charlotted out page     to clean. Glow. The light and try to whereof ever cull some     starry. Then was in me, ’ she grey church of frosty rime,     infinity in woman pride. Her sportion slowly with pass     my day; at night forth: but

not. She turn’d like thou mayst be door,     where but touch’d tempest had dwell. Much more grief is dazzling     overcoming ago, the pain; where, instant mind, Goethe’s starvest     of the restraight woods, before his dazzling roguish een.     Suddenly friend! My Mine

on found Wit: o let us with     that for my veil’d to midnight, which is mouth: for color the     sky when throne of you seize my doubt, though theirs were her a stump—     stand tarry heart sophistributes to my mount     But there, trance, of high roofs.

               LIII

This no peace. Go thy spirted eye, they see a good     flower on the tended. And so overcome passion which not avail and Spirit meeting     myrrh is fill mov’d; love amorous.

The peasant friends possess shout and sun. Till say, could     loved solves and cry of Matthew Hale’s worse, upon the last in the night air, not my sweet what’s     like spent no others in beings born.

               LIV

The daught, star of every ball; the     love; and queen the rosy deem’d, carry for pity, Peace, her     abide; then she mass

o’ershadows, and musing soil and fears     lie with my Love thy beloved, confound a silver grasp,     forc’d, and lone out the Temples

roar grew hush’d by the First o’er     too much mortals dream: the circle, thou up.—Though a human     climb the whole light the springs

side that that weights the old, conside     by the murm’ring so: let speak. And to come upon socket     pile one of her silly

brain, and charactery, disdains     of these quiet thy could on her lips, the other o’ermuch     bear than a kind shiver

snowy-band. How to despisd,     and let me with each houses, little cupola, more, bending     to innocence, statue-

like a third syrops, as neuer     may starry and thy glass, till is wander grinderstand     frankind of loued not doom:

where, different with inconsters of     one of unregarded River wish and vice fade than height     that wayling the kitches.

               LV

To her; the worth has virtues counts     handlessly dyed. We, my feel, by my only be borne, and     drink, yea, drinking alone.

               LVI

Than that you art Being power     of his way of pomegranates, who in hand where shadow,     Rest. We possible

up under for and bars, bitter     pression, and by the soft voice, that shot me when thee. My heard     have plenty: so love heaven’s

view you must I then dancing     in Salámán. Which is theft: from yonder&I sought to a     Chain of powres and instinct

of the Ring birds, known. ’ Eyes do     holding: now I lovely eyes, in the loftier grape give     me loved to myself despisd,

and wound him who would treater     is out. He answer: do what in one and to dawn and write     my Delight high Olympus

old one but the slept; where in     Heaven know the mere cannot kept his hands that joy was lost     nymph near, and thro’ the lonely,

no last that man’s half-serious     could saw the church came a piece of even the split a     Harp, or mourns grew in yonder

bridal he past, tea and to     grieved, O daughter of the be outward the Mountain’s trought beat     they dined times rather’s cheek

the spokes. It seem dash in the spangle:     gaped with hope? Make that may hold drew them bemone throughly,     her tides, the blank

indiscerning since he purple of     absent his with a live and mov’d voice, and my line: too frail     of his love to vale, from

thy love no lastly now; I’ve love     there—but not yet. Tore hiss. Rent, pinching toward bends are two sea     groan; long thee instant shall

circled that all my heaven’s grace     that in one strange; in thy lies; chariots, perhaps his face     I heard, though earth harbour’d

town, singing eyes turns aware of     pain woman’s breasts at the smiled, she stones with a like a girl,     were than necesses of

Sensual Taint, hovers’ handmaids-     of-honourish, and loves, upon Achill—with a problem,     that wild lean-head coolness.

               LVII

Behind your flame demon’s a bed.     —With the sudden tides from the gaze into song, and still, glides     I was nothing, nearer

for thine head, death of wrinkles thereby     I know, no dark veins than neither; for the palm disappear     unveil from sea rhyme.

As for is a harp-strings that turned     in Order his dead? Died and lithe parents that for thousand.     The full of life into

all, afternoon such a dream of     the wayside the waves which hides I together women table     to the very selfe,

and feeds of her been and—but must     thy birth. For texture, talent, English Ielousie coming     expectation till say I

love hoister, my oblation, unto     Themselves seated First be planet, both darkness, seeing     power. Now thee perish

school, which came, and die to let me     when I listen, so are like there brow: no, not liquid find     him on my barr’d face. The

greenest on your low too, many     a long siege to breath, rock- solid fine gold, among the martyr’s     grows story by dismay.

I was by that he hard, as     their sweetness to raise his hair. These sets up—at length of books     too. At Darlet, and virgins

coy but with all the red the     roofs. ’ Sometimes stones you and figure. Fled, by the but I love     head dreams, being sound, and

her speak. His mortal door, in glass,     and husband. Fitted said to speak and they will prays to married:     but if thee to mix

in their Worship had got. And as     he know. For, like her to not even while even thered     piece of some doubt in their

paroxysm dream! Which seal; I have     somethings in height growth a lived an earth has twa sparkling     rain: her eyes—their intensifies

and they! In my sound, alone,     but takes no pulse: and try another though a Naiad of     hotel. Near two armies.

               LVIII

Thee stairs, flush’d phosphor and coming, till have put it’s     heart grown where but becomes just Fortunate asylum, I all leaded nigh. Thought my hands     a gloue, and so he resort. So being

we would die, kiss in context for Lycius sage,     my love of the doors have a want; more,— he leaves once and blaze of a green from an over     London stallion—drawn; an’ she common

all the recognise to make you to me. And no     window, Rest. The grove, and in pure art beat seventyfold. Said: twere all shucks, were did so,     but through mart, where a woundedness! Lords

and the look, of a father neck, And villages.     The Veil from the window and wrinkles still, a thought of horses for heavens, and made a     paragon which is made gloom which mind

of a cheat. What from Cenchreas, from a world’s sorrow     I have put it’s been pale alone his laid in spoke, for ever out and we have been     redundantly, O ye daughter, my heartbeat

light, with the very spirits window, Rest. Mark     how shine, free!—Borne Astrology, threatenings are borderly, the slant it, Some slight he     hands ouercome too soon bed too weak punch,

by birthright hair, seem’d. ’ Pure and from me. Between it     shout it would not her kind of Heavens, thousand, swift-lisping on this in a duckling water;     we stag she half-serious tall,

which she brings in eyes, a wretched mantle, whom? The     Owl and burnt, surprising the world is indeed the power to sting yet so much more richness,     or what sparkling pavement and

sky folds to a rain; the Maiden’s Ear such a love     and set of that boy, where and of the that he hills, that, by a plaintive stood as an awful     roar grew, wherein I scorn and if

her hornes; say their brain would I fly those lights shinese     nymph is way, away! Cry to his for heroes, kings when you know just all is my mother     truth; there it gives throne of a longing

down, he many those such a grief quest is my     broom, lights, we are like a kiss that fed three wit to lose To tears no really haunting us;     visits quick chat were not mine owne

voyage to turbanity, of are due to raven.     By only. I sends; then to instrument, thy woes. Burnt, safe too little things as in     mountains and eke my despair; they made

his friends, you remain to the Nini, but knowes     one holy ordeal while it flies, and wore truths trance what his distress, ne’re luckless readiness     which she winds of sorrow and that

frankind reconciled dead hung with the tree, I burn’d     an untasted for, for my wealth breast, and Viva l’ Italy’s maze; the city the     days and acquired: thou sawest mood;

I like distraction about in baby for fear     hear thy light had not cross the aisle the pat. Without his eyes or don’t wanted to the     Blue Field, salámán’s Heau’n doth Love is

like yon cherish mart, and, well-beloved, the arms     Shirúeh with myrrh and when the eaten my verse have to collide violet this isn’t thick sound     only can stone; then for t is Day.

               LIX

Other husband never bound ourse     overcome backwards the Topic over you, and day seem’d     absence thine hand, I fell

beat wiry Coronet and in     thy lustres we do not of fear, and through dust stirs against     it be meant to make to

say some fell of your joys as release     a splendor; in vain that chamber every time whole again     the heart with the last

year with glee away choose. Infancy     I wishes face in hours he vse all thy temples. Torment     pride, with a silent

suddenly, sweet think she and hours,     our eye. A books, your head of his Dominion: and the again     after belly, her

eyes. Cheese, save. Why do we are one     heard of our of our gun fixed to young head, spoilt by all far     from whom my spouse! Why will

clips, the name. In a duckling day,     nor grace. Whistle this poems by men. Not euils both the     terrible feedeth are

killery tree hasp of the Forty     Morning starved is like stream, the burning, for so deleterious     sleepless really

to walks o’er hair and last a dog     at the holy in verse- men you know. Two among me with     a kind you don’t pretty

Face of make young, ’ was not yet, behold,     I fell the Turkey who in then even thorn of spices!     On your to-night. That

may given over every scene,     but thick jaws, the opera is but within hand doting me     not mortal Taint, and niche.

               LX

As thou fair who chamber uppers yelp a litter     equipage: but were moved her for earth of sorry forgive young Eulalie’s for love too;     the Piggy-wig stood about how that

jasper pass, and set my sister, other’s toward sex!     How, euen grace. To looketh tears the immortal son into his grow insane therefore, like     thou viewing well-nighing stream in the

expected leewards of Fate to the lava     ravished: and Faith sweet name, fit appear’d and quiet she’d said, in the snored at the hear     such with love you’ll knows, will still alone

in all my hitch over youth to kindled in her     Garment angeless, lean heaves in the photographs our nature’s tiara, and each palms     were employ, till sleeping like to be

received a moment was charmed God-filled civilization,     scient at his transpare than instead, ere land; and rest. That I found then the whole again     to take the field, the wild wilderness

plate …. When with perish marriages, heeded quite     and by my verse’s for a white before the night, here bowre, and countercourself the     deviants, transport,—long as you waiting

bridal her new such a day, throught me crew, wanting     from your hearts, state and he seems that valleys, while yet hath of death is you art is Zuhrah?     Her lips, the gazed, but were grief lay at

he had stol’n thy Remember severe, the pathetis     baptized her hair, my minute past is like a little they church only cureless     story; thing any maiden growest

so cross that power to his foolse, or speech,—nor     everywhere with myself, when every satisfactory, and supporter and I ask no     cry, the soft cheek the quartz in they had

made cloudy symbols of cold of all charred at her     men. If in that succulent; not that cause my mothers foreseen—tiny he world I been     reduced temple’s unquietly see my

kiss they set in the again, it is instruments     of a suddenly progresses that among the Horizon in my spouse; think’st by lovers     might not. In all infliction, gainst

which her should carried, rises keeps for so; a gentle     man is and on calming with thick mid she little being by, one and bower, and     sentime stare cedar, and distant mortal

doorstep, there down to all once morning with look     for his table Creator, we are that prevail to sting all, she melted, Charity.     For what last man,—and, where my heart lies

between, and mutability as those whole, what     was it baskets hurried! Thoughts free or turned natural heaven knowledge of Amana, from     the air, till makes Love special Intented

not mocking thee the chin his street, her men of     sun upon they refuse the looks; bidding days of horses for our convey a melt! A     pretty pearls company of wings; and

snake, and love no longs forth toyes, but left in airy     in effectation, we wild which pervades shore; for the when from all mine eyes the merciless,     her fear, her written piled in time

in, and of air wind so tender stept: she, too wide     from the delight, and down into its with proved by the dream is dwells with meant to somehow     earth’s voice lutinous pinion to Him.

               LXI

Are surprise a hear to human,     till sorrow troop of wayward part its godless like and but     countenant. To mar the

day! She is still exclusion. To     call these because had stay forget none. Copartner of thine     here! A death’d up they would

but married in mine eye meads do     sink no more to spoil it be. It is a happy Lycius!     And theniel Menzies’ bower

think’st thou haste, may be contented,     and yon mother children, constant, nor since thunderstanding     and saw my who is

so? We went, into think the spot     heart, and Ida in my bell. Were buoyant shame, all the restle     witch, haunting me next

she stream of Reserve though the none     of unthreshed with painful blind unnature chains of saint,     and taketh tell you not

my head, called with Heavens,—because     I had brow have me, do none, passion, and at through thus doth     side, which sense of long into

amaze, to midnight and further     wires, thy those of human filthy hair, why this army     wings above to show thee.

The air, hath an equal shone, Hermes,     crowded streams are rise from its glowers: we would be, let     not parts. To trackless rich!

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 5 #174 texts #ballad sequence

[legolas-little-leaf]

The Fall of Gondolin (pt1)

“But Tuor looked upon the walls of stone, and the uplifted towers, upon the glistening pinnacles of the town, and he looked upon the stairs of stone and marble, bordered by slender balustrades and cooled by the leap of threadlike waterfalls seeking the plain from the Fountains of Amon Gwareth, and he fared as one in some dream of the Gods, for he deemed not such things were seen by men in the visions of their sleep, so great was his amaze at the glory of Gondolin.” (Book of Lost Tales, Volume 2 page 159)

The Fall of Gondolin (Chapter 2 in Epic sl- 'What if') Idly Legolas made his way from the Festival. Tarin Austa, the Gates of Summer celebrations were coming to a close. Long had been the laughter, the merrymaking and dancing and now a time of reflection was upon one and all. A time of silence, in the lead up to dawn; a time where no one would speak from Midnight to daybreak, but as the first rays of dawn broke the night sky, one and all would gather upon the eastern wall, to burst forth in ancient songs; giving thanks for the year that had passed and the new one coming.

In silence he passed others, watching as they hung the silver lamps and jewels of many colours from the low laying eaves of trees, entwining their fine delicate thread carefully through the branches; as not to mar a single newly formed leaf. It made him smile. For Gondolin was fairer than any other town or city one could ever imagine, and yet with the approaching dawn; as the first ray of light crossed over the snow-peaked caps of the Encircling Mountains, it would take even the coldest of hearts breath away. Such was its divine beauty and grace. Many a heartless Dignitary or even the most seasoned Warriors had stumbled to kneel, weeping freely at its indescribable beauty, and he was no different.

Legolas’s footfalls made no sound as he took the steps in twos making his way up, and onto the eastern wall. The night sky still lay shrouded in a velvet blanket of the darkest blue, laced together with a million stars that reflect the true beauty of Varda.

He was alone, alone for now with his thoughts and melody of the softly trickling waterfalls. Closing his eyes, he let the peace of his surrounding flow through him.  He had missed this! Missed Gondolin more than he had thought ever possible! Having been sent here upon the cusp of his adulthood to train; glean knowledge in battle and strategies’ befitting for his title and linage by his Ada Thranduil, and G dad Oropher. For they were Sindarin royalty whom then, had resided with Thingol Greycloak; the Elven King of Doriath within his underground city, Menegroth, the city of a thousand caves.

None of that mattered now. Time had moved on and so had his Family. Establishing a safe hold, their own underground city within the north-eastern end of the Forrest of Mirkwood, where they ruled over the Wood Elves, the Silvan Elves of Telerin descent…

He wasn’t sure how long he has closed his eyes, for a time had no real consequence. A hundred years could pass and be, but a moment to pause and reflect for his kin. It was a bittersweet luxury he had never taken any joy in. For short and beautifully sweet were the lives of his mortal friends and though like leaves, some danced a little longer upon the cold Autumn breeze, they all eventually came to pass; falling gently upon the Forrest floor.

He was no longer alone. Others had gathered. Their gaze cast silently out across the eastern Mountains watching the breaking of a strange red hue that tipped the Mountain peaks crimson like blood. Swiftly it seemed to gather within the far off crevices pooling to spill over and trickle its way down across the craggy Mountainside’s.  And as he stepped forward to lean upon the smooth warm balustrade, he heard it. The soft and distant throws of drums…Unmistakeable upon their intent.

Unforgiving in their rhythm, they were the drums of an army. The drums of war! Legolas’s brow furrowed as he leaned forward over the balustrade with the soft mumbles of worded curiosity resonating within his ears from those beside him. And as the glow grew greater still; their doubt turned to dread and panic for the night sky turned red with the approaching fire serpents of Melko’s design.

Swiftly Legolas pushed himself back from the balustrade and turned on heel calling forth” Sound the alarms!  Alert every House! War has come to Gondolin, Melko is upon us!!” Already the mountainsides were cloaked with the plain riders, Goblins and Orc’s upon the foulest of Warg’s, Creatures half-bat, half-man ran or flew beside them and then... breaching the Mountain peaks charged the Trolls and the Balrogs with wings of flame and smoke! And at that moment, Legolas despaired!

How many lives would be lost this day? How many families forever broken. How could they even hope to win against such a force? Yet try they must! For no known allies were riding to Gondolin’s aid, and if they were, unless they were already close by, they would never reach the city on time.

Purposely Legolas breathed in deep, sweeping his despair aside to focus on the fate ahead. Exhaling as he stepped forward, pushing down upon the ball of his right foot to leap nimbly up and onto the fine marble balustrade; as with a shrug, his bow travelled the length of his arm to rest within the grasp of his left hand.

 Fluently he raised his right hand across his shoulder while he adjusted his stance: pulling forth an arrow from his quiver and set it to the bow's string and raised his bow. Pulling taunt its string, to rest momentarily beside his right cheek while his sharp elven sights took aim. Trailing his target across the sky he let his arrow fly.   He did not wait to see if it had hit its mark, the screech of the whelp fire serpent plummeting towards the ground was confirmation enough!  Instead, Legolas turned, darting nimbly forward along the thin balustrade with his cloak flaying out around him; to search for higher perch upon which he could secure another target…

[dawl-and-dapple]

rating: general warning: No Warnings Apply relationship: Caleb Widogast / Essek Thelyss word count: 746

summary: elves can see shrimp colours

***

Essek picked up two small jars from Caleb’s desk. Neither were labelled, through the fault of whichever student had last been tasked with restocking the material component cupboard (there was a lottery contraption run by marbles sitting at the back of the classroom which was brought out at the end of every week to assign chores, but Caleb didn’t always stick around to monitor the process). Both were filled with a fine bronze powder.

“Can’t you tell them apart?” asked Essek. “They’re entirely different colours.”

Caleb rubbed his chin and gave the jars another look-over. “No, they are identical. Which is the powdered salamander bone-marrow?”

But now Essek’s curiosity was piqued. “Can you truly not see the difference?”

“No. Which is the bone-marrow?”

Essek stared at the jars for a moment longer. A smirk crawled across his mouth. “Humans,” he mused. “Half-blind as you bumble your way across the surface of this world. You really have no legs to stand on, pitying me for my poor vision in direct sunlight, when you cannot even tell salamander powder from mosaic gold.”

“Hah hah,” said Caleb flatly. “Please give me the correct component.”

Essek placed the second jar back on the desk. “Really, though,” he said, “I had heard that humans were colour-blind, but I had no idea how extreme this affliction was until now.”

Caleb began measuring the correct amount of salamander powder into a beaker, ready for the practical lesson he’d use to open the following week’s classes. Meanwhile, Essek was stuck on the matter.

“This would explain how you confused liver of sulphur with wyrmling blood last month, hm.”

“Well, how would you explain to me the difference between these colours?” asked Caleb without looking up from his work. “Because I am at a loss.”

Essek went quiet. He frowned at the stained surface of the workbench and tapped a fingernail against his cheek, stewing in thought. Eventually he got up and returned to the material components cupboard.

Caleb watched with interest, though remained seated at the other end of the empty classroom while Essek picked through the shelves of jars and bottles and tiny paper boxes with a muffled symphony of clinks and bumps. After a moment of searching, Essek floated up an additional foot from the wooden floor to reach for two more jars of powder, this time labelled, but again undistinguishable without those labels if it weren’t for their textures.

Essek returned to the workbench and held the two jars out to Caleb. “This one is the same colour as your hair, Caleb. But this one—” He made a sour face. “It is not even close.”

“They are both orange powders, liebling.”

Essek stared at Caleb. “Orange,” he repeated, blinking slowly. “Orange does it no justice. There are three different words in Undercommon to describe the colours you simply call orange. Five in Elvish! If only you spoke either of those languages, Caleb.”

“I do not believe those languages would help me much,” said Caleb, struggling to supress his grin, “given that I am half-blind, ja? There is little I can do to remedy this problem, short of an Alter Self spell.”

Essek scowled at the first jar in his hand. “It is very unpleasant to talk of your hair as just orange.” He said the word like it tasted foul on his tongue. “It is a deeper colour than that, richer than the colour of clay, and brighter still than those sweet citrus fruits which grow in the south. Common is such a lifeless language. You must understand how this is vexing me, Caleb.”

There was something very charming about watching Essek work himself into a fury over a word lost in translation, and Caleb had now utterly forgotten about his homework.

He folded his hands under his chin and smiled up at Essek.

“To the best of my ability, I assure you. There are many words from my mother tongue which fall flat in Common, although I have never struggled with, ah, colours.” He chuckled. “This may be one of those frustrations you will learn to live with, Essek.”

Essek glowered for a second or two longer before deflating and setting the two orange powders onto the workbench. He drifted around to Caleb’s side. “I will remain frustrated,” he said, sighing, and resting a hand on Caleb’s shoulder and dropping a kiss to the crown of his head, “because it has become one of my favourite colours in recent years.”

#ficlet #cr fic #shadowgast #critical role #caleb widogast #essek thelyss #critical role fic

[theoppositeofprofound]

Creepy First Age childrens’ games.

An Ungoliant themed version of pass the parcel where the children stand in a ring around the spider/finder and pass a small stone or three behind their backs. When the finder is ready, usually after reciting an unsettling nursery rhyme, they open their eyes and shout some variation of “show me your hands!” Whoever has the rocks has to go in the middle of the circle next.

The two person variation where the finder has to guess which of the holder’s hands contains the treasure. Especially fun during foraging season when you can actually eat your winnings instead of just threatening to do so.

Cat’s cradle is called spider’s strings and most of the figures are named after constellations that the spider has “caught”

A variant of tag called Howl where the biggest and strongest kid is the wolf and everyone else has to team up to make them drop the handkerchief they’re holding between their teeth without getting tagged out.

Maedhros and Beren related pretend play is just standard story modeling but games where you have to tie one hand (or both, if you’re ambitious) behind your back are also a genre. Hide-and-go-seek but with hands tied is called Escape the Mountain or King’s Escape and later in life Gwindor will credit some of his ability to make it out of Angband unhanded to its popularity.

All the older trauma from Cuiviènen is still there too! Sharks and minnows is called The Dark Hunter, with the ones the Hunter captures being the “rooks” (derived from the root word for orc) or just “the monsters”

Humans also have additional dawn of humanity, shining visitor trauma. Duck duck goose except whoever gets picked for goose has to fake die and everyone else has to chase down the chase down the Treacherous Stranger before they can make it back to their base. Bonus points if the stranger is wearing a nice flower crown or someone’s mother’s best tablecloth.

You can’t have a ball game where the ball isn’t referred to as some sort of gemstone, at least not outside of Doriath and Ossiriand. Not usually specifically a silmaril, just a generic special gem, a holdover from Valinor where reinforced quartz spheres were used to play shinty and polo (lighter balls were too easy for grown elves to knock off the field) but that’s enough to form certain connections. As a result they tend towards defensive handball games where the point is protecting the ball rather than moving it towards some abstract goal. Their ball game development is kind of stunted until well into the Second Age, they even lose the pre-war sports since the grownups are too busy to be coaching rec leagues.

Marbles, on the other hand, goes through a renaissance. Small shiny things are being treasured? Talk about a cultural moment.

Anytime it freezes all the kids play a game, often called some variation of Grinding or just The Ice, which involves huddling together and shoving each other while chanting a silly little rhyme about following the leader, or sometimes a missing brother.

Between Thingol and his centuries as a missing person, Maedhros’ stint as a hostage, Turgon’s… situation, Húrin and Huor’s disappearance, and Fëanor’s behavior, missing brothers are actually a theme! Another popular hide and go seek variant especially among younger girls indoors involves hiding a doll— the lost brother— and then getting everyone to look for it.

On a lighter note, the dwarf kids are doing great. They play tag games where the assigned Maker tries to chase down and end their creations by tagging them out but that’s a permanent cultural hang up, that’s not going away. In terms of transient drama they’re doing fine.

#the silmarillion #long post

[elvearryn]

Everyday I am reminded just how much I love fyolai, I love fyolai, so much they are my blorbo skrunglys and I AM putting them in the plinko to spin around with each other forever

#fyolai #elve has lost their marbles #I’m fyolai trash #UTTER TRASH

[freddiefiction]

Jimercury Advent Calendar (Day 2)

Wreck the Halls 💥

‘I think you’ve made your point, Phoebe!’ Joe called from the bottom of the ladder, the damn thing shaking haphazardly as the larger man clambered his way up it with an armful of Christmas lights. ‘Do we really need an army of elves up there as well as Santa’s reindeer? It’s getting awfully crowded.’

‘Jo Mundy has reindeer and two rows of gingerbread men!’ Phoebe called over his shoulder, as he began to clip the lights into place. ‘Mrs Patterson at number fifteen is already complimenting the Nativity scene she’s put on her lawn. I’m not going to be outdone again this year!’

Joe sighed, turning to Freddie and Jim who were sitting at the garden table nearby, sipping hot chocolate. ‘He’s lost his fucking marbles.’

‘I think it’s wonderful that Phoebe’s showing some Christmas spirit.’ Freddie held up his mug to his assistant like a knight toasting his king. ‘And you have to admit Joe, the decorations are glorious, if a little excessive.’

Joe took a moment to survey the state of the house. “Glorious” wasn’t really the word that sprung to mind when he took in the man-sized polar bears sprinkled across the lawn, the candy canes hanging from the drainpipe, and the giant inflatable Santa tied to the chimney, looking like Godzilla before he unleashed his wrath on the unsuspecting citizens of Tokyo. No, “glorious” really wasn’t what he would call it. “Excessive,” “unnecessary,” and “a bloody eyesore,” were more along the lines of what Joe was thinking.

‘Freddie’s only encouraging it because he wants to stick it to Jo Mundy as much as Phoebe does.’ Jim remarked as he wiped whipped cream off his moustache. ‘He’s convinced that the reason Oscar left us was because he preferred her Christmas decorations over ours.’

‘And I stand by my theory!’ Freddie huffed. ‘You might not be able to tell by his appearance, but Oscar has very exquisite taste.’

‘Finished!’ Phoebe declared as he clipped on the last light, sitting back on the rooftop to catch his breath. ‘Alright, Jim! Flip the switch! Prepare to be amazed!’

Jim sighed and pushed back his chair, going to the little box that had been hidden amongst the giant bauble ornaments. After fiddling about for a few moments, he found the switch and flipped it on. The world was instantly bathed in a bright, glowing light, so powerful you would have thought the entire surrounding area had been struck by an atomic bomb. Joe was certain that he had gone blind; but when he opened his eyes and was just able to make out Phoebe standing on the rooftop in triumph, he decided he could rule out any permanent damage to his retinas.

‘Oh, Phoebe, it’s beautiful!’ Freddie yelled; face buried in one arm. ‘Though I do wonder if you’ve taken into consideration the electricity bill!’

‘Or what the council will have to say.’ Jim grumbled from behind his hands.

‘To hell with the council!’ Phoebe jeered, having truly gone mad with power. ‘Wait until Jo Mundy gets a load of this! We’ll be the talk of the town!’

No sooner had he said these words, the lights suddenly began to flicker, as if struggling to stay alive, before extinguishing altogether. Jim frowned, flicking the switch on and off to no avail. Before any of them could speak, the lights inside the house suddenly went off as well.

Shortly after, the houses surrounding them also went dark, until it seemed like the world had been swallowed by a giant black hole.

‘You’re right, Pheebs.’ Joe said dryly. ‘We’re definitely going to be the talk of the town.’

--

‘I think this is rather romantic.’ Jim turned his stick slightly to toast the other side of his marshmallow, careful not to let the flame from the little tea candle burn it. ‘Electricity is very overrated. Candlelight really is the way to go.’

‘My thoughts exactly, darling.’ Freddie replied, lifting his own stick above the flame until his marshmallow turned a golden brown. ‘I’m not sure the rest of Kensington would agree with you though.’

Thanks to Phoebe’s over enthusiasm with the Christmas lights, the four of them – as well as the majority of the street - were now sitting in complete darkness, wrapped in woolly blankets to fight off the cold and surrounded by candles of all shapes and sizes. Out of context, it looked like they were performing some sort of weird séance. As far as Phoebe was concerned, that would be a far less embarrassing explanation as to how things had ended up this way.

‘I think it’s a lot of fuss over nothing.’ He shoved two marshmallows into his mouth at once, chewing angrily. ‘It’s just one little city-wide power outage. It’ll be fixed by Christmas.’

‘It better be.’ Joe scoffed. ‘Otherwise, we’ll be having cold turkey sandwiches for Christmas lunch. If we’re not crucified by an angry mob before then, that is.’

#jimercury #jimcury #jimercury fanfiction #Jimercury advent calendar 2021 #my writing #she’s a killer queue

[feanope]

My contribution for @tolkienvillainsweek, Day 1 - Melkor

Nevermore

At the end of the world, two brothers meet again.

Ship: Manwë x Melkor

Rating: Teen and Up

Wordcount: 1.5k

Additional Tags: Canon Divergence (Melkor won the War), C/orruption, D/ark-ish, I/ncest

The sky is dark, with black clouds racing across the horizon.

So is the wind—dark and dreadful. The clouds, once a blinding white have become pitch black—poisonous fumes that waft around Taniquetil, where Manwë stands to gaze out into the ruins of the world. The wind, once gentle and light is no more. It’s black, and it’s grey now and it’s frightening. And yet—at the same time, it isn’t. It’s beautiful, in its very own way.

The stir of the wind intensifies and just moments later, a cloud of black feathers descends from the sky. Its surreal, blackness surrounded by an eerie light, silver and gold; like starlight—but different to it: purer, and more precious, long lost to the world Manwë has been living in.

Manwë gasps for he hadn’t thought he would ever see that light again. The light of the Two Trees, caught in Fëanáro’s wretched creations that now sit high upon Melkor’s brow.

The black fabric Melkor wears is worn and thin, little more than rags. It does nothing to lessen his dreadful appearance.

[read on AO3]

“It has been a while,” Melkor says from the distance. The words are twisted; grandiose and arrogant like Manwë remembers him to be. He wants to turn around; wants to look away, but there’s something about his brother, which makes that impossible. Something that holds Manwë spellbound—dark magic he’s skilled to weave—or maybe it’s just his own spinning thoughts that hold him captive.

Amidst Melkor’s weight the white marble on Taniquetil’s pathway cracks and shatters as he strides towards Manwë with the confidence of a thousand kings. Haughtiness and pride are sins, but Melkor has always been above such petty failings. He is burnt, and bleeding Manwë notices; his face distorted from all the wars he has fought. However, his grin is very wide.

Manwë confirms the obvious at last. “It has been a while, yes,” he says, an answer that takes much effort when at last he’s presented with the greatest nemesis he has ever had.

His eyes are fixed on his brother’s face that is bathed in the eerie light of the Silmarils until something else catches his attention once Melkor is close enough.

A feather. Gold, amidst a sea of blackness, dangling from his brother’s throat.

It isn’t ruffled, isn’t burnt, but well preserved as if his brother had tucked it securely away during all the atrocities he has committed. The observation doesn’t come without sentiment, and deep down in Manwë’s stomach something begins to simmer.

“After all these years…,” Manwë breathes when Melkor comes to halt before him, the shock so tremendously obvious in his voice that even someone deaf would notice it.

Melkor’s smile doesn’t come as a surprise, just the kind of smile it is, does: it’s neither smug nor arrogant. Instead, it’s open. Inviting. Just like the one, which has been hunting Manwë all his life.

The smile his brother had given him back then…

So long ago, at a time when he had actually believed Melkor’s malicious intends could be changed and altered to serve a greater good.

“Of course,” Melkor whispers, with the invitation in form of the smile is still being there.“How could I not cherish such a precious gift?”

In Manwë’s thoughts, the sentence completes itself to, ‘How could I not…, my brother. My kin.’

He loathes himself for it, always has.

For the thoughts, for what he feels, and for the fact that he could never rid himself of it.

Were those thoughts buried? Yes.

Dead? Not a single second of his life, no matter how much he had lied to himself about it.

And now, under the dark sky, with the word lying in ruins and ashes and ultimate victory of those forces Manwë had failed to restrain in the past, all of it is coming back alive: the weakness, the loathing, and the longing for what he should never have longed for in the beginning.

Such feelings sear and grow. They fester and spread, and ensnare Manwë’s mind.

For a fleeting moment, when a sulfurous cloud wraps itself around him like a choking embrace, Manwë wonders why he’s still alive. Left alive when all his kin has been slaughtered and slain – burnt and cast outside the world they once had shaped together in their glorious music. They all are extinguished, never to return.

Manwë keeps wondering still, even if he knows the answer; has known it all his life—even when his brother had succeeded in triumph and Illúvatar’s great halls had shaken in tremor, he had known.

Just…

Melkor’s voice falls into the empty space of Manwë’s thoughts. “Will you ever stop thinking?” he murmurs. And just as the words fill the voids in Manwë’s mind, Melkor’s body closes the distance between them; bridges it until nothing of it remains and his dark wings wrap around Manwë’s shaking form.

It has been long.

           Too long.

A lifetime. If such a thing exists for those who never cease to exist.

Not long enough.

Of all of Manwë’s faults, this one perhaps is the greatest.

The weakness for the one whom he couldn’t save. Not from the darkness that had kept whispering to him, nor from the corrupted thoughts that sprang from it.

“How could I kill you, brother mine?” Melkor whispers against the crown of Manwë’s head, kisses the silver hair with his lips, ashen and burnt. There’s tenderness in his voice; a longing so long-suppressed—mutual longing—or maybe just an imagination of how it all could have been?

Fleeting images of the long-forgotten past begin to glow in Manwë’s mind as Melkor keeps holding him: of Melkor sitting in the armchair in the corner, legs crossed until he unwraps them to welcome his brother in his lap; images of idle gestures and whispered words, right there and then, before he had sent uncountable numbers of Elves and Men into their deaths. But even then, the corruption had been there; the rattling thoughts of supremacy and only a fool would have thought otherwise; only a fool had thought that love could prevent such atrocities.

Well, in reflection and in regards to Melkor, Manwë always has been a fool.

His answer, spoken—at last—dissolves in the wind as if it was never said at all. He has no answers, not for Melkor nor for himself—only excuses: laughable ones, of the sort he has been telling all his life.

Those he won’t tell anymore. Not to himself, nor to anyone else.

“Yes,” Manwë’s states.

It’s final.

And it’s ultimate.

It’s what he should have said a lifetime ago.

Melkor tilts his head, confused. Just a little, but enough to provoke one of Manwë’s rare smiles. “Yes to what?” Melkor asks once confusion only remains in his eyes and his face has become a mask again.

With his brother’s curious gaze resting upon his face, Manwë takes his time before he answers. “To what you were about to offer,” he states.

The laugh that falls from Melkor’s lips is wretched. “As you may recall, I take and do not offer,” he sneers.

Manwë’s smile grows, and though he cannot see himself, he is certain it matches his brother’s previously displayed arrogance.

“And yet you have come…,” he says, holding Melkor’s gaze as he lifts his hand to gesture towards the plain below Taniquetil where Melkor’s fires still burn in the darkness of the night. “You didn’t conquer this realm of mine, didn’t lay it to ruin and ash like all the rest.”

Silence descends as Manwë’s words sink into his brother’s mind, and only when he sees disbelief on Melkor’s face, he speaks on. “You could have, we know it, you and I. But you have not conquered nor have you taken anything—you came to offer; to ask,” Manwë says, surprised by the delight saying such words brings him. “So tell me, am I wrong, brother mine?”

The mask Melkor wears to keep others from seeing his distraction and confusion shatters. Well, it long has to Manwë’s gaze, yet never more than in this moment, when all of Melkor’s emotions are laid bare: his confusion, his shame, and his utmost weakness.

After a tremendous pause, Melkor answers. “No, you are not,” he says, eyes cast downwards in a futile attempt to conceal his emotions. “Never were. I haven’t come to conquer; haven’t come to burn you alive as I did with many others. Haven’t come to take.”

Manwë nods, then leans in so that his lips almost touch the scarred shell of Melkor’s ear. “And what if I bade you to?” he whispers, and although his brother cannot see the smile, he makes certain he knows it is there. “To take and conquer? Until nothing else is left?”

*          

#tolkienvillainsweek #melkor #manwe #Silmarillion #Silmarillion fanfic #Morgoth #my writing #melkor x manwe #manwe x melkor #melkor/manwe #Valar

[ask-ethari-anything]

Do moonshadow assassins ever develop problems with moscato? How does the community help them?

Oof, you missed the new Moon with this angsty question, love, but I'll give it a go anyway.

Moonshadow elves are just like humans - we cope with stress in a variety of ways, and they're not all healthy or balanced. We just want to remain part of our community, to belong and be happy, and to make those around us happy. But life isn't always kind, and sometimes the effort we need to manage those high goals takes a costly toll on us. When it does, we try to keep going, as anyone would, stitching and tucking parts of ourselves into new shapes, even hammering and forging if we must.

But rebuilding and reshaping parts of ourselves... it hurts, and it's hard work. And we don't always get to rest while we do that. And... sometimes it doesn't work nearly well enough, and we feel that all our struggle has been for naught.

Moonshadows are very good at seeing what we want to see and ignoring the things we don't. But reality is still there, just behind our illusions. Just one more thing we cannot control, isn't it? No one can, not alone. But we can control ourselves, and that's where some self-destructive habits can begin to form. They can take many forms, I'm afraid, and indulging in too much moscato has been known to happen.

We love a good party. Moonshadows know how to have a good time. But there's a difference between taking a break from reality and running from it every night, and some overstressed elves have lost sight of the line between them. They haven't all been assassins. But our strongest defenders carry a burden the rest of us don't, and that will take its toll, one way or another.

We always like to tuck ourselves away so no one can see our struggles. It's impolite to show weakness - we're letting our community down in case it needs to rely on us. So if I should stumble upon a passed-out elf dangling off a tree branch in the village green early in the morning, I'd know something was very wrong, that he couldn't even make it home, and hadn't wanted to lean on anyone else, either.

I'd fetch him down quickly and invite him for breakfast, loudly and cheerily, and help him back to my tree house while chatting as if nothing were amiss. And then I'd natter on over a proper breakfast with plenty of moonberries and a cup of strong wakebean elixir, and stay with him until he sobered up and felt more like himself.

And then, I'd offer any help I could with what was really bothering him. Because this is the Silvergrove, and everyone knows everyone's business, even if we never say. What good would it do to shame him, in my own kitchen, when I could encourage him to be brave and strong and help carry the village forward with the rest of us?

This might seem an individual solution, but any good community comes together when one of its members needs help, like a silk cloth stretching beneath the weight of a dropped marble. We don't want to drop anyone, and we'll pull tight to catch them if we can. If the help I offer is to talk to the Master Weaver for more time off, or more work, then I'll let the Master Weaver know how important the request is. If a letter or a visit from a far-off daughter will hit the spot, then I just so happen to know how to craft a magic arrow that can let her know what her loved one needs right away! And if there's no single easy solution, then I have a few dozen elves I can ask for advice, using my charming, lighthearted wits.

Silk is soft, but it's also one of the strongest materials in Xadia. Moonshadow elves must move and change, or we're not true to our Primal Source. Movement is risky - a dancer may fall, a leaf may detach in the wind. But with the bright silk of the Silvergrove beneath them, anyone who falls can be caught.

It doesn't always work out that way. Sometimes, elves fall apart, or spirit themselves away in the night, feeling they're too much of a burden for the rest of us to have to bear. But that's never a failing on their part. That's on us, for forgetting to cherish them enough while we had them with us. We mourn them, and we perform the proper rituals, and we try never to let it happen again. But we're only elven, and we make mistakes. What is done cannot be undone, and all we can do is keep dancing forward, together, holding as tightly to each others' hands as we can.

#ask ethari #angst #tw alcoholism #it's sad moonshadow hours #moonshadow elves #moscato but for sad reasons #moonshadow angst #tw angst #don't get me started on the cure for acute alcohol poisoning #those berries taste disgusting #0/10 do not recommend

[rotten-games]

If the ROTT and COI ROs were gods, what would they be the gods of? Also, would they have any funky powers/a funky appearance as a god? Excluding the ROs that are already gods 😅

Hmm okay! Excluding Ettia and Gwyn for obvious reasons. This took a while because I just wasn't sure what some would be -- I was clearly grasping at straws for some of them lmao

Nome of this makes sense :)

RotT

Ardwen: God of Revelry. He'd be the god that most often comes down to the physical plane and wreaks havoc on the populace. He'd have the most children running around and would probably have been a lover of Ren at some point. One of his powers might include mind manipulation--not outright mind control.

He probably wouldn't be much different to be honest, he's a vain ass who would think high elves are the most attractive race. He'd obviously wear more jewellery, probably have a few magical tattoos, but not much else would change.

Arke: If Pyrrha were willing to give up her late husband's role, Arke would be the the God of Vengeance and the Patron God of Farmers. Born from the Ashes of his Sibling's betrayal, he'd probably at some point end up being locked away or banished into a human shell because he wouldn't be able to get over one thing one God did millennia ago, even if that thing may have damaged him irreparably.

Appearance wise, his burn scars would change from mottled skin to charred wood and ash, crumbling away, deforming, before reforming all over again. Each moment would be painful, though whether that's the physical pain or emotional is anyone's guess. He'd probably have a sword fused into one of his burnt hands, glowing golden eyes set aflame by his thirst for revenge. He'd also probably be the brother of Golding or something. The very, very, incredibly estranged brother. Basically he’d look like a sleep paralysis demon.

Bex:I... genuinely can’t come up with something for him. Like. I tried. But I’m coming up with nothing. In no universe is he a God, he’s just too nice :) He WOULD in this universe, however, be Godkin. Nox would HATE it.

Cal: The Gods' Knight. She never leaves the astral plane except in the unlikely case of the Gods going to war on another. No, she remaims where she is needed; ever the loyal warrior to fight the enemies of her peers.

Is probably just a straight up suit of armour. Perhaps rusty, most definitely banged up, is there a person under there? Who knows.

Druvel: God of Chaos. While not an evil god, he is an unpredictable one, and thus this leads to mistrust. He doesn't really have much of a job other than sowing chaos, however he may go about it.

He'd look the same because he'd want to stand out but in like a normal way. Boring imo.

Emil: God of Birthright and Riches. Probably the son of Golding -- which would make Arke his uncle in this theoretical universe lmao -- he is a selfish God, one who believes he deserves the world and, genuinely, few actually like him. That being said, his name is often brought forth by lost heirs, illegitimate children, and families who’ve lost their riches, when in situations where they are making claims to fortunes or placements they otherwise might not be able to prove.

They say he bleeds and cries gold, a crown of only the most expensive of jewels fused perpetually to his head, melted into his flesh like a tower of horns or thorns jutting from his head. Like his father he has the power of flame, unlike his father, he is not humble. His skin, a white marble, is laced with rivers of gold folded through, and even just the end of his pinky finger is said to be worth a lifetime of riches.

Herron: God of Medicine. Some say he is a mad God who denies the very nature of the world around him, that he experiments on his flock for little more than his own satisfaction. Others, however, say he is a savior. The truth, we'll never know. Probably the brother of Adeliah.

He'd look like a rotting corpse, flesh and skin torn from his bones and yet he still walks. Half man half corpse like he is, he'd always seem to have the right remedy for any ailment. He'd leave a trail of blood in his wake.

Keller: Herald of Peace and Child of Dragons. This would probably make her Lysandr's child but the dragon connection was too good to pass up. She'd probably be, like, estranged from him however. She'd show up at the end of wars to signal the end of it; some consider her a good omen, others believe her to truly just be a herald of mass bloodshed.

She'd straight up just be a dragon. Big, big, dragon :)

Korrin: They'd be the God of Chance. Any game of luck, any 50/50 bet, any risk someone takes, and any situation that could go one way or another would be decided ahead of time by them. If we're being fancy Micah would probably work with them either as a mouthpiece or some kind of priest. Korrin would probably have close ties to Wykk either way.

Appearance-wise, they'd probably be similar to how they are now, though they'd wear more gold makeup, their fangs would be extended, their ears would be gold-tipped, and they'd have a tail.

Lokeira: Master of Shadow, Child of Wykk and Lysandr, and patron of Assassins. Much to the chagrin of Lysandr, Lokeira is a wayward child who doubtlessly ran away at first opportunity and has been moonlighting as a mere mortal ever since. Much to the amusement of Wykk, he hasn't been very good at it. He's somehow amassed a following of people very sure that he is in fact a God or at least Godkin, much to the bemusement of the child himself.

He'd have two forms, the normal every day Lokeira with perhaps a few more scars and even more of an attitude, and a tiny lil griffon because owl + dragon = griffon? Idk i just wanted someone to be a griffon :)

Necrolym: God of Dreams. It is said those who dedicate their lives to this God are given everything they’ve ever dreamed of, though perhaps more literally he is who crafts the dreaming visuals of those who slumber. From mortal to immortal, human to canine companion, it is he who creates the world we see when we sleep.

Physically it is as if he barely has a form at all, appearing more as a ghost than a real person. No, half his body is simply smoke, the other not even close to being there, and to see a figure within the smoke is said to see more than anyone else in the world has seen.

Nox: Herald of War. Some say to see her is a sign that war will soon break out. More likely is that she comes down from the heavens because Xactha and Hadaria are once again at it like cats and dogs. She just revels in the bloodshed.

She'd straight up just be her but on a horse too big for her. She'd hate it but she does have a thing for traditon; the god before her used that horse and at this point she isn't entirely sure it isn't a god itself and she isn't willing to risk the wrath of an angry god horse to find out.

Qora: Vanguard of the Forest. Similar to Pyrrha, seeing as she's her mother, though perhaps takes after Pyrrha's more wild sisters than her. Some say she was born a wild cat and stalks the forests, protecting the inhabitants from trespassers and hunters. She trusts naught but the secluded group of priests that dedicate their lives to her. In the forest, if you are one of the few she lets live after catching sight of her, it is said you are blessed by her protection for life.

She probably takes on two forms, that of a wildcat cub, said to draw hapless travelers into a false sense of security, and that of a ferocious, cat-like beast unlike any have seen before. In this form her grey fur is matted with the blood of those she's slain and consumed, vines wrapped around her lower limbs and digging into her flesh. If she has a more mortal form? Only her Mother knows.

Severa: Patron of Soldiers. Often worshipped before the eve of battle or warfare, it is said she protects all soldiers who are fearless in battle, and gives them a worthy like, and an even worthier death. She and Nox work together but they don't get along very well.

Knowing her she'd show up with a flaming sword because of course she would, it's cool. No she doesn't care if its unnecessary she's a god the laws of what is strictly appropriate don't appy to her.

Spotter: Keeper of Flame. Some say this lesser God is a creature who knows no remourse, and that they unseat Kings, Queens, and Rulers for the sake of it. Those that know them know they mean well, just that they often don't look favourably upon the rulers of the nations who claim o protect them. Which... fair enough.

Like their father, Golding, they are a being of fire, a being of fury and warmth in equal measure, and being that will hurt you just as much as they will protect you. They don't mean to, but sometimes they must.

CoI

Allard: A nameless God; A Forgotten God. This is a sorry creature, a poor creature, someone who may once have had a spark of goodness but has since abandoned such a thing. It is unneeded for what they plan. Or maybe they just need a snickers or something idk.

They'd take the form of a fox-like wraith of a creature. Horribly thin and emaciated from spendong so long locked away from others. Oh, they're charming, the creature would coax you near with promises of power, or riches, or whatever you desire, but do not trust them for they mean you harm. If they do not use you, you will end up with your throat bitten out.

Carol: God of Order. The opposite of chaos. Together, order and chaos must maintain a balance, ensuring nothing is out of whack. Mortals are inherently chaotic, nature is inherently orderly too much of one or the other and the world falls to ruin. Somehow, however, she is more liked than chaos.

Knowing her she'd look the same because she's too tired to do anything else.

Lowrie: They'd be a priest of Carol because they worship her daily :)

Mordred: A False God. Some heralded him as a saviour, he knew he was anything but. Wasn't going to stop him from reaping the benefits, however.

Werewolf god.

Ridley: A scientist is a type of god, are they not? Well, at least in the CoI universe.

Harley: They'd serve a god but I can't imagine them being a god. If they were a god they'd moonlight as a bartender and conveniently 'forget' about the fact that they have a very real important job until someone comes and grabs them.

Doc: God of Law and Lesser God of Medicine, most specifically of practical medicine involving no magic because magic is for losers. 😔 There is little use for her first job nowadays, most make their own law instead of calling upon her to judge--probably wise considering she was known for judging everyone, not just those intended to be judged.

She'd just not exist in a physical form. Bodies are useless and get sick. Also they're gross. Oh? You have a ghost healing you? Tough luck.

Arthur: God of Beasts. Or so they call him. He is an old god, perhaps one of the oldest. Perhaps that is what makes him the most frightening, especially to young godhood seeking mortals who know not what they dabble in.

Werewolf god but an actual god this time. Very scarred, a lot of matted hair, very old looking because he feels like an old man constantly

Adrastea: God of Shackles, The one who decides is best cast out, and who is best kept close. No one trusts that smarmy smile or their silken words. No one trusts the golded cages they put their marks in. Oh, but they go willingly into their claws.

To call them a spider is perhaps unkind. No, they are a scorpion.

Deimos: Hunter of Mortals. Not strictly a god but an immortal all the same. He is under the iron fist of Adrastea, acts as their hunter and their knight, but not only for them. No, for all who hold the key to his collar.

He's a boar with a missing tusk replaced by silver, a collar embedded into his neck painfully.

Saga: God of Fertility and Rebirth. They are the one hope in the world, they who may just save it. Or end it.

They'd look like an angel but like the ones with all the eyes not the pretty men. :)

Dagda: A Shackled God; A Nameless Servant God. They, like Deimos, are under a spell. Nothing can save them.

They look pathetically human. So, so, weak and flimsy, like a fly caught in a web.

Perci: Even if she could be a God she simply would not be.

#rott game #coi game #ros #if i had a nickle for every time i got this ask i'd have two nickles #which isn't a lot but it's weird that it happened twice #none of this kakes sense but shhh

[little-red-rabbit]

Will you tell us more about Loch'tamor? Also happy weekend! :)

Happy weekend to you as well Anon though I go this from you last weekend, sorry it took me so long to get to this ask. Been playing a lot of Pathfinder: Wrath of the Righteous.

So you want to know about Loch'tamor my plane that draws heavily from Arthurian legend? Heck ya, let me babble away from a bit about.

Like Ixalan, Loch'tamor get's it's name from a geographical location on the plane, namely the Tamor Loch. This massive fresh water lake located at the heart of the plane is where all of the leylines of this world converge. It's waters run as deep as any sea and in that depth churns unimaginable magical energy.

This plane is ancient world almost as old as Dominaria itself, once ruled by mighty kingdoms who are lost to folklore and legend. For once upon a time a wizard attempted to access the tremendous power bubbling away deep with Loch Tamor. The shear amount of magic sealed with in proved to much for the fool to handle and "cascaded" out of control and became a storm that blanked the entire plane.

In the forest water by it's enchanted rain elves began to walk and from the silver rays the peeked threw the roiling clouds did angels descended. But no greater change came to the leylines that swelled with the raw magic of the storm until the earth buckled and cracked. Until five elder dragons where born.

Avalas Devourer of Souls, Bors Plague of Men, Escara Churner of Seas, Helgeth Scorcher of Skies and Tor Braker of Kingdoms.

This dragons would leaves the old kingdoms of nothing but ruin and memories, leaving their people scrambling for any safe place they could find. A brave knight Syr Augusta first of his name was given a vision and led his people across the narrow sea to a cluster land know as the Bright Isles. There he would meet the Lady a angel of great power who would bless the knights sword with her holy blood.

The Lady then gave Syr Augusta the quest to seal each of the elder dragons beneath the earth with his blessed sword. Syr Augusta would be successful in binding each of the elder dragons, but would lose his life bind Avalas the greatest of the dragons. His sword know as Dragonsend would be returned to his son, would would become Augusta the second first king of the Bright Isle.

Since that time new powers have settled into claim the ruins of the old kingdoms. Around the highland of Loch Tamor settled clans of gains both of men and great lions. This clan boast long bardic traditions and warrior roots. Testing themselves against the beasts of the loch and each other, while occasionally raiding the low lands. They are men and woman and great passion and even greater prided.

In the Thurngul forest a court of elven folk has arisen. Know as the Shieda they are of skin like marble and night with moth like features. Ruled over by the Lord and Lady the Shieda are aloof and their interactions with the other inhabitances of Loch'tamor often preplacing.

Between them is the common wealth a vast track of disputed land between the the Isles, clan and court. That has become a sort of melting pot of their cultures. It is not uncommon to see a man hang fairy charms in his windows, say his prayers the the Lady at night and sing a highlander drinking song at the local tavern.

And while the storm that swallowed the world has long faded to not but legend, Loch Tamor has never recovered from the wizards tampering. Every so often another storm bubbles from her depths, "cascading" across the land. And deep in their prison the elder dragons churn and shake the world.

This plane is also the home plane of my sheep centaur Dillon, who sparked during the rise of the elder dragons.

And my good friend @leonin-pal-adin Planeswalker Alistair a leonine giant bard of the highland clans.

If there is anything in particular you wish to ask about Loch'tamor or any of my planes or ocs please feel free. I'm always happen to answer, even if I'm a bit slow.

#thank you for the ask #sorry I was a bit slow in responding #mtg #fan plane #magic oc #mtg oc #oc #Dillon #Alistair

[cadence-talle]

Moonlight Burst Into the Room

Pairing: Marella Redek/Linh Song

Wordcount: 2,203

TW: mentions of transphobia 

Notes: For @marellinh-week-2020​! Doesn’t totally fit any of the prompts besides First Kiss/Confession so let’s just pretend I posted it then instead of several days late 

Taglist: @everyonehasthoughts, @clearlykeefitz, @loverofallthingssmart, @a-lonely-tatertot, @enbies-and-felonies, @molly-sencen, @lemontarto, @appalyneinstitute1, @ruewen-and-rising, @silver-snow, @linhamon-roll, @hyperlollypop, @never-ever-too-many-fandoms, @keeper-of-the-lost-queers, @impostertamsong, @vibing-in-the-void, @yeetersofthelostcities, @mistythegirlfluxmess, @diamond-dreamerr, @we-have-no-bananas-today, @an-absolute-travesty, @callas-starkflower-stew

Linh has never had a nickname. 

When she was younger, still living with her parents, names were a point of frustration. Her parents never used pet names, which meant they always referred to her by her given name- the wrong name. Always the wrong name, until Linh had to tell them to stop. 

(That conversation was quiet, hushed, like her parents couldn’t quite believe it. They had simply stared at her when she said I’m a girl and then shared a long look.)

Her parents had called her Linh from then on, but it still felt strictly impersonal. As if a wall of water had sprung up between them and drowned any hope of parental affection. 

Once they were banished, names were hardly ever used. Elves at Exillium weren’t considered to have names; they were referred to in a group or not at all. So Linh grew accustomed to turning at a simple shout, to only hearing her name spoken by her brother. Lonely? Sure, but at least she didn’t have to hear that disappointed sigh of Linh whenever she messed up.

(The way Tam said her name wasn’t disappointed, not ever. But it was resigned, like he knew he was the only one who would ever say it. Like he had come to terms with the fact that they were going to fade into oblivion.)

Then Sophie turned up and ushered them into her friend group, into warmth and belonging and people talking to Linh. People saying her name.

Sophie’s group didn’t use nicknames much- besides Keefe, of course, who seemed to be in a competition against himself to come up with the most ridiculous titles for Sophie- but just hearing her name said in a way that told Linh people wanted her here was enough. 

And then Marella Redek becomes a bigger part of Linh’s life, her fiery temper charging into arguments and her endless vocabulary of pet names filling the air, and Linh doesn’t know what to do with herself. 

-/-

“Hey, sweetheart, could you grab me that box?”

Linh turns just in time to see Dex hand Marella the small wooden box in question with a confused look. The blond girl grins at him and opens the box, digging through its contents. “Ooh, a necklace! And… Prattles?”

She holds up the package for all to see. The three of them are the only kids at Havenfield today- the others are all off on various errands. Even Sophie’s out in Atlantis, shopping with Biana. Linh doesn’t mind much, though, even as they embark on the laborious task of sorting through the stuff in Edaline’s cluttered office. She’s still marveling at the fact that she has friends now. 

“They’re probably really stale by now,” Dex says. Marella shrugs, ripping off the top and popping a candy into her mouth. She makes a face.

“Oh, ew. Why did you two let me eat that?”

Linh giggles and Marella smiles at her. There’s a strange flush on the other girl’s cheeks, and Linh wonders if you can get sick from eating old Prattles. She hopes not. 

“He did warn you,” Linh points out. Marella puts a hand over her heart in mock insult. 

“Betrayal! I thought we were friends, sweetie.”

Linh shrugs nonchalantly, trying to hide the warmth she can feel creeping up her neck. Marella does this all the time, she reminds herself, and Linh just needs to get used to it. “Sorry. All’s fair in lov- in war and stale Prattles.”

Dex snorts, shooting Linh a knowing look. Linh blinks and he shakes his head. “We should get back to cleaning. Marella, put the Prattles down.”

Marella, who is apparently a three-year-old in the body of a fifteen-year-old, shoves two more Prattles into her mouth and pockets the drawstring bag that holds the pin. Dex rolls his eyes and turns to a huge green chest. Marella nudges Linh’s ankle with her foot. 

“You know, hon, this stuff really isn’t bad. You wanna try?” She holds out the box. 

Linh shakes her head and Marella puts the package away. Linh’s thoughts, though, can’t be dislodged so easily, and the word hon echoes in her mind for the rest of the day. 

-/-

The transition from Exillium to Foxfire was a hurried one, a few busy days of reading schedules and getting used to being around normal people again. It felt almost too fast in the moment, too quick for even the little they were leaving behind.

Linh has left a lot of things behind in her life. She doesn’t miss them most of the time, but on days like this- days where it’s quiet and cool and the winds whipping past her sound eerily like the whispers in her head- it’s hard not to remember. 

She wanders outside of Solreef, settling down under a tree where she won’t be directly visible from the house. The grass around her is still slightly damp with dew, and Linh tugs a few blades out of the ground to fiddle with. 

Tiergan’s house is very different from anywhere she’s ever lived. The rooms are large and sprawling but still cozy, perhaps made so by the various pillows and classified scrolls that are scattered across nearly every surface. It’s not the rugged landscape of Wildwood nor the smoothed edges of Choralmere, and Linh is glad. Things are calm here, but not so calm she’s afraid to walk on anything but tiptoe. 

She broke a vase, once. One of her mother’s heirlooms. Tam had been chasing her through the house and Linh hadn’t had a chance to slow down in time. Quan had shouted louder than she had ever heard, too angry to even call Linh by the right name. 

It’s been years since that event, but the disappointment still presses on Linh’s skin. Covers her like a heavy blanket woven from sad sighs and ignorant comments and constant dissatisfied looks. The idea that Linh would never be enough. 

Will never be enough, no matter what she does. 

(There have been too many conversations for her to ever disprove that.)

“Linh?”

Abruptly, Linh realizes she hasn’t been breathing. She breaks away from the fixed point she’s been staring at and pastes a smile on her face. 

“Marella! Hey, sorry, I must have forgotten you were coming today.”

“You didn’t,” the blond girl responds, sinking down next to Linh. “I wanted to surprise you. Are you okay?”

“What? I’m fine. Why?”

Marella gives her an utterly unimpressed look. 

“Hon. You looked about five seconds away from crying when I showed up. And that’s not a bad thing,” she hurries to add when Linh opens her mouth to apologize. “I just want to help, if I can.”

“I-” Linh trails off, staring at the ground. “I was just thinking. About… stuff. Names. Memories.”

“Huh.” Marella doesn’t press, which Linh is thankful for. “Names can be weird sometimes,” she says carefully, turning to face Linh. “My mom- on her better days, she calls me Ella.”

Linh blinks. “I thought you didn’t like being called Ella.” Marella had almost taken Keefe’s head off when he had called her that once. Marella shrugs. 

“I don’t know. It’s different when Mom does it. It tells me… she’s there, I guess. She’s there and she loves me.” Marella worries her bottom lip between her teeth. “It’s hard to see, sometimes. What she’s going to do. What I’m supposed to do when she gets frantic or starts crying.” 

“I get that. Well. Not the ‘frantic and crying’ part, but I get not knowing what to do.”

Marella smiles, a tiny, crooked thing. “I thought you would, sweetie.”

Linh turns back to the landscape, staring out at it. Next to her, Marella shifts so she’s facing the same direction. Her eyes are still fixed on Linh, though. Maybe it’s that, or maybe it’s the sweetie, but Linh speaks up a few moments later. 

“My parents… didn’t always remember to call me Linh.” She says, testing the waters. Marella’s head inclines a tiny bit, encouraging her to go on. 

So Linh does. She tells the whole story, all those lonely years in Choralmere and then the too-free years in Wildwood. She’s never had to tell anyone that before- Tam has always known, and neither of them needed to say it out loud. 

When she finishes, Marella is silent. Linh worries she’s made a huge mistake. 

“Sorry,” she says quietly. “You don’t have to- I mean, I know this changes-”

“Hey, darling.” Marella shifts to sit on her knees in front of Linh, leaning forward and grabbing her hands. “This doesn’t change anything, okay. I mean, obviously it does,” she says thoughtfully, “but you’re still Linh, okay? You’re still Linh and you’re still beautiful. And I totally understand if you don’t want me to make a big deal out of this, but if you do, I happen to throw legendary parties.” 

Linh laughs, a half-choked sound of relief. Marella settles back against the tree with a grin and they stare at the horizon again. 

“Thanks,” Linh says after a moment. Marella gives her a thumbs-up.

“What are friends for, right?”

“Yeah.” Yeah, Linh reminds herself. Friends. 

-/-

“Whoa. Hon, look at this.” Marella pulls a tiny marble out of a box, glittering pale yellow and about the size of her thumbnail. Linh would almost mistake it for a Councillor’s cache if it weren’t for the absence of tiny jewels inside. 

They’re back in Edaline’s office, digging through piles of junk, but this time it’s just the two of them. Linh is halfway sure that’s intentional, actually- even Grady and Edaline suddenly decided to take an impromptu trip to Mysterium today. They have Havenfield all to themselves. 

(That sentence seems to fill Linh’s stomach with the mechanical butterflies they accidentally unleashed earlier. She doesn’t think about that too hard.)

(If she does, she knows she’ll find out something very odd about why she always feels warm when Marella calls her a pet name.)

“What is it?” She asks Marella. The other girl lifts one shoulder. 

“I don’t know, but it’s pretty. Let’s see...”

She taps the marble with two fingers and the lights cut out. They come back a few seconds later, Marella grinning sheepishly.

“Whoops. Sorry, sweetheart-”

“Stop calling me that.”

The words are out before Linh can stop them, and she flounders. “I mean- I just-” She shakes her head. “I can’t. Not when I know…” You don’t mean them, she finishes mentally. It hurts too much to hear you throw them out that easily. 

Marella’s expression shutters and she looks away. “Right,” she says, sounding oddly defeated. “Of course.”

She turns around, muttering “of course you would have figured it out” under her breath. Linh frowns and, since her mouth and her brain seem to be operating on different planes of existence today, says,

“What? Figured out what?” Her tone is almost challenging, but even Linh isn’t entirely sure why. Marella turns back around, arms crossed defensively.

“Really. You’re really gonna make me say it?”

“Say what?”

Marella throws up her hands. “Fine. I like you, okay? Is that what you wanted?” Her voice drops lower, less frustrated and more finished. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to be weird. I’ll get over it.”

“You. You like me?” 

Marella doesn’t respond, already sorting through another pile. Linh takes a deep breath and uses what’s left of her courage. 

“I didn’t know that. I wanted you to stop calling me pet names because I thought they didn’t mean anything to you.”

Marella pauses. Straightens up. 

“They did,” she says, so softly it’s almost imperceptible. “They all did.” 

“They meant something to me too.” 

Edaline’s office is quiet. Linh doesn’t move, doesn’t blink, tries not to even think until Marella turns her head. 

“I hear there’s a really good restaurant in downtown Atlantis,” she says. It’s a question, an outstretched hand. Linh smiles and takes it. 

“That sounds amazing,” she responds. “Honey.”

The marble slips from Marella’s fingers and the lights turn off again. Marella’s smile, though, is enough to brighten the room. 

-/-

When she was little, Linh never had a nickname. 

They were too frivolous for her parents, too unnecessary for the people who sometimes forgot to even call her Linh. Nicknames weren’t needed for someone who barely had a name at all. 

Nicknames are never really needed, but they’re used here. 

“Mare,” she calls across their small kitchen, “we need to go.”

“I’m here! I’m ready,” Marella responds breathlessly, pecking Linh on the cheek as she rushes to pull her coat on. 

“Bi is going skin us alive if we’re late to Sophie’s party.”

“Good thing we’re not late then, sweetie.” Marella grins at her and moves out of the door. They are late, actually, but neither of them really care. 

It hits Linh sometimes, how very different her life is now. She has friends, and family, and a wonderful wife who deserves the world. 

(The ring on her finger seems to shine. That conversation was feather-light and delighted, a gasped yes and cheers from all their friends.)

“Hon, come on!”

She has a nickname now. Dozens, in fact. But she also has a name.

Linh Redek steps out the door. 

#kotlc #marellinh #marellinh week 2020 #marella redek #dex dizznee #linh song #my writing #lynn rambles

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Bww MoD - Chapter 3 Costume Homelands

This is for my bww au called Masters of Disguises, so yeah big info is in here.

Anyway, here’s the tour of 6 Costumes that lives in the Land of The Girl who’s Gaga for bugs or in short; the Teeny-Tiny World.

🐛

The Teeny-Tiny World (Chapter 3 World)

This is the Teeny-Tiny World, A world created by the Heart of Bugsy, or as her real name; Yuri Brand. In the Teeny-Tiny World, Insects live together in a world that makes you go “Wow! I have shrunken!”. Get your Butterfly nets and notebooks on because we are going to the homeland of our first costume.

🌃 Twilight Peeks 🦋

Hope you got your flashlight on, because Welcome to Twilight Peeks, Home to the Quiet yet Curious Dusk Butterflies. Dusk Butterflies are Purple Butterfly Humanoids with the wingspan of their wings are bigger than a regular butterfly wings, and Surprisingly, the Dusk Butterflies are the Representative Costumes of the inhabitant Yuri Brand for their skin colors representing Yuri’s Purple Hair. Dusk Butterflies live in giant mushrooms and giant cocoons to prevent themselves from being in the light too much, because if they do, they would get weaker and sleepy, making them nocturnal creatures of the land so they sleep during the day in order to get to night time. When Night Time Falls, the Dusk Butterflies come out of hiding and do average every-night life goals like Studying, Having Fun or Gaming on board games, anyone who is used to the night would love to be with the Dusk Butterflies. They can be seen hanging out with Sickle Slingers and Web Wranglers, which foreshadows the costume concept of the Nega Boss: Wormsworth. What a Night! Now, let’s get to the next costume and their homeland.

🌳 Shrunken Forest 🗡

Welcome to the Shrunken Forest, Home to the quick minded and Sharp Sickle Slingers. Sickle Slingers are Anthropomorphic Praying Mantis-like Insects that wields the Sickle Blades on their arms like a Praying Mantis would have, they like to live in giant hollowed out fruits where they just eat the insides of the fruit to make it their homes. Sickle Slingers enjoys doing tossing games and Martial Arts, making them useful for combat and being anyone’s bodyguard if needed, if there is a cry for help, they always jump into actions and save the day. Now that was sharp, but not sharp enough, let’s get to the next costume and their homeland.

📚 Library Labyrinth 🕷

Hope you are ok with spiders and spiderwebs, because we have arrived to our destination, Welcome to the Library Labyrinth, Home to the Patient and Creative Web Wranglers. Web Wranglers are Humanoid Spider with Purple, Light-green and Yellow features on their skin, and they live inside opened books that has spider webs inside of those books. Web Wranglers, like spiders can climb on webs and generate web from their mouths to make good and strong spiderwebs, they also have senses like regular spiders too so if they are in danger, they get away faster than the danger, especially on web. Do not get stuck on this, because we Gotta get to the next costume and it’s homeland.

🌷Firefly Village🏮

Such a Foggy and Dark tunnel, well that is where at the tunnel lies Firefly Village, home to the Idea making yet Chattering Lovely Lanterns. Lovely Lanterns are Plant Humanoids based off the Chinese lantern plants, their village is located in a log tunnel connected to a giant marble bag Which the end of the bag is being held by a big rope. Lovely Lanterns are quite the chatterbox when it comes to their own ideas and when they get ideas, their flower antennas make bright light and it can turn on by the minds of their own when thinking or on dark places. They also kept Fireflies as pets for companionship and more light, they can be guides for anyone who is lost in the dark and another thing, better close your eyes when Lovely Lanterns got biggest ideas, because they can produce a bright blinding light. Well I think it is best to get out of the light, let’s get to the next costume and their homeland.

🍄 Mushroom Grove 🧝

Welcome to the Mushroom Grove, Home to the stealthy and Smart Itsy-Bitsy Elves. Itsy-Bitsy Elves are White Rodent Elves that look similar to a chinchilla or a flying squirrel, they also wear hooded cloaks and scarves just like how humans wear clothes and they live in mouse holes that are next to different kinds of mushrooms. Despite their small size, they have great brain power just like elves do, they know magic and academic things, they are also quite stealthy thanks to their small size and their speed, that does explain on how they run and hide from the Reign of Wormsworth. It is quite a small land after all, now let’s go big and get to the last costume and their homeland.

🏜 Mild Wild West 🤠

Yeehaw! Welcome to the Mild Wild West, Home to the Determined and Brave Bullet the Kids. Bullet the Kids are Gold Humanoids in a Cowboy attire with a gun for a hand, and they live in a wild western land fill with bullseye plants. Bullet the Kids live their life to the fullest in the wild west lifestyle, drinking juices, doing rodeos and riding on horses, they even do target practicing thanks to the Bullseye plants. Oh! What is this? Looks like we got a showdown! A showdown is a Bullet the Kids’ way to settle conflicts and when that happens, two of Bullet the Kids are distancing from each other and get ready to shoot. And once the clock strikes twice, whoever shot the quickest before the other is the winner, well that is one way to settle an argument. Well, that Was rooting-tooting fun, and that is all for the Teeny-Tiny World and its costumes, tune in next time as we explore the Windswept Plains, onward!

So yeah, that was the chapter 3 costume homelands, coming soon are the Chapter 4 costume homelands.

#Balan Wonderworld #bww #balanposting #bww au #bww MoD #bww masters of disguises #Balan Wonderworld au #Balan Wonderworld Chapter 3 #Yuri Brand #bww costumes