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iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia · 11 months

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Humble request- (inspired by Asra's section of the m6 with insomniac mc headcannons that you posted previously) Mc accidentally traveling into the m6's dreams. Also I really enjoy your writing!

The Arcana HCs: When MC accidentally visits M6's dreams

~ @cricketchirps you have a marvelous mind and I love how you think! Thank you for the request, it was so fun to write! - brainrot ~

-- to set the scene --

You'll never not love falling asleep next to your beloved. It's the perfect conclusion to every day, good and bad and everything in between. It's the quiet rustle of sheets and blankets, the mundane perfection of a whispered "goodnight", the familiar intimacy of their smell on your nightclothes. Right now, seeing their peaceful sleeping face so close to yours, it's a healing sweetness that cradles you so gently it makes your heart ache. You shuffle a little closer, nuzzle into their embrace, and drift off to the rhythm of their quiet breathing.

Julian

You would know that voice anywhere

It seems you're on a stage - no, the deck of a ship - no, a stage, definitely a stage - and now it's the Coliseum floor?

A look to your right reveals Julian, in his nightshirt, performing some of the most dramatic improv you've ever seen to an increasingly enraptured audience. Is this why he talks in his sleep?

"I shall fight thee, foul beast!" he roars, and in the blink of an eye the stage is a pirate ship heading towards a hideous sea serpent wearing Valdemar's cloth-wrapped horns

The crowd's wild cheers cause Julian to draw up short, flicking his head around with a roguish smirk. "Let's see how it fares against this!" And the serpent transforms into one of those blow-up tube men frequently seen at car dealerships

He whips out a cutlass, the stage lights somehow glinting off it in slow motion, and thrusts it repeatedly at the enemy, comically missing the mark each time. You can't help but cackle along with the crowd

The sound of your voice pulls Julian's attention to you and now he's striding across the stage, taking your hands in his and kneeling bare-legged in front of you as the ship becomes a moonlit garden

"MC, my beloved, my darling, my dearest" He's pressing noisy kisses to your wrists, watching you blush at the sound of thousands of quiet "awww"s from the still present audience

You laugh again and gently tug your hands away. "I didn't know you had dreams like this, Julian."

And that's when he goes pale. "Wha - MC? The real MC? How are you - how are you here, I don't understand, is this even safe?!"

His panic is directly affecting both the audience and the stage, your surroundings flipping between boats and taverns and loud storms and chaotic crowds, until a faraway shout wakes you both

You open your eyes to see a wide-eyed Julian, tangled in his sheets, soaked in a cold sweat, startled awake by the increased volume of his own sleep-talking

"Julian? Are you alright?"

He turns to you wide-eyed, sending you a sheepish grin. "Let's - ah - let's pretend that didn't happen. Oh, and MC? Maybe warn me next time?"

Asra

You know where you are as soon as you open your eyes. Nobody else you know could effortlessly dream up a place like this

There's a tie-dye sky slowly wrinkling above you, you're standing on a floor of multicolored orbeez, the air feels like fizzy sherbert on your tongue, and thousands of tiny Faust flowers are kissing your ankles

You take a hesitant step forward and the ground shivers, trees resembling lisa frank paintings appearing in a shower of poprocks

Upon coming closer to one, you see that it has drapes of luxurious neon fur instead of foliage. You run your hand along it, marveling at its softness, when the trunk begins to gurgle and you stop

"Wait! Do that again!" Asra's materialized on one of the branches next to you, lazing happily on the thick fur. "Humor me?"

You let out a startled laugh and slowly comply, running your hand along your branch again. The gurgling increases in volume until the crown of the tree suddenly inflates and releases a holographic bubble with the most obscene burping noise you've ever heard

Asra's smiling at you between fits of laughter, reaching out a hand that you're suddenly close enough to to grasp and pulling you next to them. "Hello, my love. I didn't expect to see you here."

You snuggle into his side, trusting his fearlessness as you begin to sink into what's become a vast field of fuzz. "I didn't expect to wander into your dream, either. Is it always like this?"

They sigh blissfully and twine your fingers together. "Not always. But more and more, as I get practice." You watch in awe as the sky darkens, tie-dye rippling into glowing paint splatters of galaxies. "Do you like it?"

You look over at him and catch his proud, teasing smile. "Are you showing off for me, Asra?"

"Oh, MC." They pull you closer as you plummet down together, the slowly sinking softness giving way to a sea of stars. You float weightless next to them, their curls bending starlight around the two of you

"Surely you know I can do better than that."

It takes a promise to join him again before he agrees to wake up with you

Nadia

The first thing you're conscious of is a dull, repetitive roar just above your head. You don't feel weightless, exactly, but you do feel like you're floating, your feet bearing half the weight they're used to

You look up towards the soothing rush above you, and that's your first glimpse of this place.

Crystal arches meet high above your head, golden specks scattered across the tops like snow, and the sound you're hearing is that of sparkling pink-blue waves breaking over the top

Your eyes slowly trail down the spires, catching nostalgia laden pockets of solitude, and land on a familiar figure. "Nadia!"

She straightens and turns to you, eyes wide. The silver clockwork floor below her whirs to life and begins to click and squeeze the space between you until she's close enough to touch

"MC?" One of her hands trails down your cheek in wonder. "You aren't the MC I see in my dreams, you're my MC. How did you come to be in this place?"

"I don't know." You lean into her touch as the floor continues to whir and click and chime. "Did you build this place?"

She knits her brows and looks out past the crystal pillars, watching the golden specks from the ceiling settle into a beach at her feet. "I did not build it ... but I believe it is my domain to claim."

Her robes shimmer into something lighter and shorter as she steps off of the clockwork and onto the shimmering sand. Her hair floats idly around her shoulders when she turns back to look at you

"Care to join me?"

You reach out for her hand and the golden gear below you poofs into beach. "Is this where you try out new clothing designs?"

She laughs, a floral breeze picking up to pull the hair out of her face, and lightly traces her fingertips from one shoulder, along your collarbone, to the other shoulder, raising an eyebrow at you

"It's worth the view." You look down to see what she's changed your normal nightwear to, and your blush makes your vision swim

You wake up to see her sketching her design for you before she forgets

Muriel

Silence has never felt so vibrant

When you open your eyes you're in something like the Tarske Forest, only, it seems to have folded into a very large square

Looking up gives you the most grounded sense of calming vertigo, because you're in fact looking down at the tops of the trees above you, and further past them to the mossy ground

Gravity feels alive here, like it's taking slow, deep breaths, and the subtle heartbeat beneath your feet holds them steadily to the ground

You start to explore, subconsciously matching your breathing to the intense quiet. You reach the first wall of the forest quickly, where the ground takes a ninety degree angle straight up

One more step, and the world rolls over, what used to be the ground a wall behind you and the wall before you now your path. You hear the forest give a sigh, and then there's Muriel

The silence is too sacred to speak, so you whisper and hope it forgives your impudence. "Muriel - did you make this?"

He takes your hand in his and guides you to sit, a mossy root rising up to support your weight. He's hesitant to speak, his low murmur somehow making the silence quieter. "I didn't build this. It's just ... me."

The verdant sanctuary makes a little more sense now. You look at the tight set of his shoulders and risk another whisper. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude."

He looks at you in surprise. "How did you get here?"

You answer with a shrug. He averts his gaze, face reddening as he pouts slightly over your earlier apology. "... I guess I don't mind."

The forest cube isn't very pleased with his roundabout answer. Soon enough, the world feels like a roundabout as it rolls again with no warning and you land on top of him in the moss

"I - I'm so sorry," you murmur as you push yourself off of his chest, "I didn't mean to -" and you're cut off as the horizon turns again

"Don't be," he grunts, blushing as he catches himself from crushing you entirely

You wake up to the sound of your rolling lover landing on the floor with a heavy thud

Portia

You open your eyes to pouring golden sunlight and the sound of steel striking against steel. You sit up on your massive, leather-bound book to see Portia sitting cross-legged on an open page

She's leaning forward, eyes trained on whatever landscape is behind you, pumping her fist and cheering breathlessly to whatever the noise signifies

You stand and call her name. "Portia?"

"Yes?" She's blinking up at you, apple halfway to her mouth. "Oh, MC. Take a seat, you're just in time for the 'and there was only one bed' trope."

You plop down on the cushion next to her and scoop some bread pudding into your hand in lieu of a bowl. "What bed are we looking for?"

"That one." She points the core of her pear at the double bed in front of you, two chemistry-laden figures standing awkwardly by a patchwork quilt as the snowstorm rages outside. "Wait, MC?!"

You're pulled back from the enticing scene in time to see Portia's eyes widen comically. She grabs your sleeve in her hand and starts to shake you gently

"What are you still doing here? You usually just float away or join me in the book, don't tell me - are you in my dream?" You nod. "Im so haopy to see you! How did you do that?!?"

"I don't know how I did it. I fell asleep, and here I am."

The smile she sends you makes your landscape of pages glow golden and she tackles you with a hug, knocking you back into the massive printed page you two are sharing

"I have so much to show you! Oh! The detective one first!" The light vanishes and the two of you are standing in a grey drizzle, looking at horses pulling black chariots over a foggy city's cobblestone streets

"Wait! No! The castle one!" Now you're looking out at rolling, heather-covered fields beneath a silver mist sky from an old stone tower

"No, wait!" Portia shouts again, and now you're flipping through more scenery than you can keep track of into oblivion

You wake up to her grimacing with the beginnings of a headache

Lucio

The smell hits you first

Rich food, wine, perfumes, and flowers are already swimming through your nostrils when the noise registers. Thousands of voices, chattering, cheering, and laughing

And in the middle of all the madness, a voice you'd recognize anywhere: "Drinks for everyone! Food for everyone!! Celebrate!!!"

That's your cue to open your eyes. You're in a palace somehow ten times more opulent than the one in Vesuvia, with chandeliers hanging from chandeliers and literal fountains of wine

It takes you all of three seconds to spot Lucio - he's in the middle of it all, calling for delicacies and performances to be rolled out nonstop to the crowd gathering around him

It takes him all of two minutes to spot you struggling through the partygoers, and he lights up immediately. "MC! MC, join me!"

You're suddenly at a table with him halfway up a flight of stairs, an empty place setting in front of you. Lucio's peacocking around you as you try to shout over the noise and explain what's happening

"Lucio, I'm in your dream!"

"No, MC!" He declares with everyone present, "You are my dream!"

It's hard not to be flattered and swept up with the way everyone present cheers for his announcement, but you want to make sure he knows what's happening, so you catch a flying hand and tug

He's immediately drawing you close with a delighted smile. "MC, you want to dance first? Director, give us music!"

But it seems instead of playing the waltz he's hoping for, the musicians sit on their instruments and start singing opera

"Lucio, this is a dream! I'm in your dream, with magic!"

He lights up. "Magic, of course! Begin the performance, my MC wants to see magic!" He pauses in confusion as the orchestra turned choir begins to put on costumes for a play. "Magic? But MC, you're a magician, why would you want to see magic?"

It's the sound of fireworks going off in the chandeliers that wakes you. Lucio leaps off his pillow right after with a surprised grunt

"MC," he says breathlessly, "I want to do that again. Teach me!"

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aguacerotropical · 1 year

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the moon as resurrection in vampire lore

“Do you think," said an old man to another, "that he will come to life again, eh?"—

"Oh, yes, vampyres always do, and lay in the moonlight, and then they come to life again. Moonlight recovers a vampyre to life again."

"And yet the moonlight is cold."—"Ah, but who's to tell what may happen to a vampyre, or what's hot or what's cold?"

And there was Sir Francis Varney, raising slowly one arm with the hand outstretched towards the moon, as if invoking that luminary to shed more of its beams upon him.

from Varney the Vampire, or the Feast of Blood (1847)

“According to a promise they had given his lordship, that [Ruthven’s corpse] should be exposed to the first cold ray of the moon that rose after his death. Aubrey astonished, and taking several of the men, determined to go and bury it upon the spot where it lay. But, when he had mounted to the summit he found no trace of either the corpse or the clothes.”

from Polidori’s The Vampyre (1816)

Ruthven: Then I shall die content.—Swear then, to conceal my death, until the Moon shall set to-night, then throw this ring into the waves that drench the Tomb of Fingal.

Ruthven: Remember your oath.

The Moon gradually descends

from Planché’s play The Vampire (1820) based on Polidori’s book.

“There is no doubt that vampires seek a union with mortal beings expressly to prolong their existence on this earth. I shall instantly, therefore, seek the fair Aldwinkle, and achieve our marriage. After what I have endured meanwhile, a walk in the soft moonlight will revive me

from W.T. Moncrieff‘s play “The Spectre Bridegroom; or, A Ghost in Spite of Himself” (1821)

“The Sorcerer draws a blue fire circle with his wand round the Tomb—the moon becomes suddenly obscured—a storm begins to howl—owls and other birds of might flap their wings and utter their low voices of doom—the tomb flies apart, leaving a passage for Brunhilda to rise through—the Sorcerer scatters into the yawning earth, roots and herbs of magic power—the wind becomes more boisterous—thunder peals louder—the clouds divide—the moon bursts forth with all her power, and her beams are scattered on the fragments of rock that composed the tomb.)

Brunhilda: You stabbed me to the heart—you buried me;—But when the rite was done—marked you the moon? Her light restored me—but to be revenged!”

from George Blink’s play “The Vampire Bride; or, Tenant of the Tomb” (1830). This was an adaptation of the far more famous story Wake Not The Dead by Ernest Rapauch (1823)

"Know then," continued the sorcerer, "that only on the night of the new moon does she sleep the sleep of mortals; and then all the supernatural power which she inherits from the grave totally fails her. 'Tis then that thou must murder her."

From Rapauch’s Wake Not The Dead (1823)

“The moonlight is seen to tip the highest peaks and creeps down the mountain side; it arrives at the ledge, and bathes the body of ALAN RABY in a bright white light.—After a moment his chest begins to heave and his limbs to quiver, he raises his arm to his heart, and then, revived completely, rises to his full height.

Alan. (Addressing the Moon.) Fountain of my life! once more thy rays restore me. Death!—I defy thee

“The next evening I climbed the mountain, and concealed myself near the spot; he came; again his breast seemed to drink in the moonbeams. I looked close, when I saw here, in his left bosom, just over the heart, was an unclosed wound, as if a pistol bullet had passed through him!

From Dion Boucicault‘s The Phantom (1852)

Most of these come from the book Beyond the Count by Margo Bond Collins. Available in Z Library and Libgen via Anna’s Archive.

#yes i am a vanitas-will-not-die-so-easily truther #but can i possibly be blamed? look at vampires in 19th C. Lit #its SO interesting bc they were more like phantoms or spirits rather than vampires #and how modern day vampires are so bound by the flesh and blood. that was a dracula thing #vanitas no carte #the case study of vanitas #vnc #dracula daily #vampires #vnc meta

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marveltrumpshate · 4 months

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December 2023 MTH fills

The best way to see all the fills that have been shared with us is our monthly roundups tag or our #MTH-fills channel on our Discord, but you can also view them through the following methods:

Our Tumblr tags: 2018, 2019, 2020, 2021, 2022, 2023

Our AO3 collections: 2018, 2019, 2020, 2021, 2022, 2023 (only has works posted to AO3)

Completed works tag list

To find specific content, use our completed works tag lists above which includes instructions on how to search for a particular character, gen or romantic relationship, universe, and fanwork type.

SOLO CHARACTERS

Jack Rollins

Sammy Smiles - Big Jack Rollins plushie in tac suit for @kalika999 (MTH 2021)

Kurt Wagner

@say-cyke-rn - Art of an injured Kurt crouching on a ledge for whichwitch

Loki

RoseRose/@tehroserose - "Jörmungandr (It's all circles)" (MCU Loki catena rondo hurt no comfort, unhappy ending poem) for @kerravonsen

Ronan

@deehellcat - Small crocheted Ronan doll with his weapon for @pocketcosmic

GEN/PLATONIC RELATIONSHIPS

Alpine & Bucky Barnes

@scootcommander - Diary pages of Bucky's mental health journey while taking care of Alpine featuring mentions of Clint, Natasha, and Steve for @buckybarnesdeservestobehappy

SHIPS

Bucky Barnes/Clint Barton

dr.girlfriend/@drgrlfriend - "The Storm Shall Not Wake Thee" (post-TWS Bucky/Clint fic where Bucky is a selkie) for @ghostcwtch, @buckyismybicycle, @hawksonfire, @bulkyphrase, and Fox (MTH 2022)

@secondalto - Cross-stitch piece of winged Bucky and Clint embracing for @rufferto9

Bucky Barnes/Natasha Romanov

Eustacia Vye/@eustaciavye28 - "Shelter" (MCU Bucky/Nat fic where Bucky rescues Natasha from General Ross's custody) for @drivingyelenabelova

Bucky Barnes/Tony Stark

swtalmnd/@amysnotdeadyet - "To Arms" (Witcher!Bucky/technomage!Tony AU fic) for @saganarojanaolt, newtypeshadow, and @rise-up-ting-ting-like-glitter (MTH 2021)

Kitty Pryde/Illyana Rasputin

Jason K Jones/@jkjones21 - Art of Kitty/Kate following Illyana through a portal to a beautiful landscape for KellyLynn

Loki/Mobius

WinterRaven/@ravensonata - "Under the Moonlight Eternal" (pre-American Civil War vampire!Loki/human!Mobius AU fic) for asgardian (MTH 2022)

Matt Murdock/Jennifer Walters

yellowwclouds/@lesbiandardevil - Art of Jen and Matt having fun rollerskating at a roller rink for @nostalgicatsea

Steve Rogers/Tony Stark

@nostalgicatsea - Mood board of Steve and Tony yearning for each other in their dreams for @captainneverever

Tony Stark/Stephen Strange

Golden_Asp - "A Bargain Made" (MCU Stephen/Tony demonic possession fic) for @sirleafheart (MTH 2022)

#monthly roundup #december 2023 #mth 2021 #mth 2022 #mth 2023

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weirdwriter69 · 11 months

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Kiss Me Goodnight

Will comforts the reader after they wake up from a bad nightmare. Fandom: Ikemen Vampire Rating: G Tags: Fluff, Nightmares, Comfort, First Person Word Count: 1,433

Tossing and turning in my sleep, I snap awake from my nightmares. I find myself in a familiar place. Will’s favorite soft silk sheets are beneath me, and I carefully turn over to see him sleeping next to me. I sit up in the bed, trying to clear my head. I can’t recall what exactly happened in my nightmare, but it made me feel absolutely terrified like I had been swallowed by a black abyss, never to escape. I take a deep breath and try to lay back down.

A few moments later, my body viciously shakes me awake. I am forced to lay awake once again, but this time, Will stirs awake. A soft sigh escapes from his lips before he stretches and grunts. He isn’t sure what awoke him. Regardless, he puts his arm back around me, signaling me to lay back down and curl up next to him. I easily do as I am told. Pressing my ear against his chest, I love hearing the rhythmic thumping of his heart. He mumbles in his sleeping voice, “What happened, my precious one?”

I quickly whisper, “Nothing, just nightmares again.”

His discolored eyes flick open as he becomes fully alert. His glaze focuses on me. “What haunts thou at such a late hour? The only thought that should stuff our small heads is the blessed silence of sleep or if we are lucky, the holy land of dreams, but never shall thou be cursed with nightmares, not under my roof nor under my arm.”

His sweet poetic words carry the truth, yet they are far from it. I find myself haunted by my past. I left my time period so long ago; however, my past or the upcoming future taints my every waking moment.

I have spent the last three years with Will after moving out of Comte’s mansion. I decided on a whim to give up on my dream of getting my Ph.D. in America. Well, it was never my dream. It was some idea passed down onto by my parents. I was halfway through my bachelor’s when I went to study aboard one summer in Paris, and I followed a strange man through a time traveling door. The rest is history.

I do not regret my choice. I am much better off here than I was there. My passion has always been in the arts, and Will recognized that. He saw my love for creative writing and acting. Under his wing, I became a successful actor in his troupe, and I have even begun writing manuscripts for stories of my own.

Right now, it does not make sense why the past haunts me so. I should be happy and carefree with everything that has happened to me. I am with the man of my dreams for Christ’s sake, yet some part of me feels as if I am burden in this time period. Will often joking teases me that I am not fit for this time. Even after three consecutive years in the nineth century, I still stick out like a sore thumb.

I look up to Will. “It’s nothing now. I can’t recall what even happened.”

He stares at me for a moment longer to look at the truth within my eyes. His expression relaxes while he gently strokes my cheek. “There is a cloud behind thine irises. A rainy day, no matter how small, can still ruin a party, and the last thing I wish is for thee to be tortured by the pains and chills of harsh rain. I want thee to suffer no storm alone,” Will whispers to me.

His ostentatious words convey his care. Before I can form a reply, he sighs and hugs me, “If words cannot depict the horrors within your fragile mind, relax into me, my darling.”

“I think… it was a nightmare about my past. People were upset and angry with me that I left everything on the flip of a dime. They demanded that I return all the happiness I somehow stole from them. There was a points system and everything. It didn’t make much sense. Heh, my university was after me as well because of my unpaid tuition I still owe them,” I carefully pieced together what was bothering me, “Look, I don’t regret staying at all, but sometimes, I can’t help but wonder what is happening back in the future. Other times, I worry about what would have happened to me if I choose to go home or if I didn’t have the wonderful opportunity to meet you and all the other residents at the mansion.”

Will sympathetically nods, “Please do not fear what is no longer reality. I know it is one thing to say and another thing to do. I am glad that thou stayed in a realm different from thine own; however, I understand that it seems like a sacrifice on nights like this. Thou owe no one any emotion nor are thou required to pay debts with points and trials.”

I stare at the blank ceiling as the room is swallowed into a shallow silence broken by soft breathing. The words fall to come to my lips, but I let out a small chuckle, “yeah, I just worry. I worry a lot over the small reasons regardless of if they are real or not, ya know that. Heh, this reminds me of the first nightmare I had coming here about a vampire who bite me, and Sebastian warned me not to give anyone my heart or my destiny.”

Will follows along with the story. “I do recall someone running off in fear, and that is how I found the beauty in front of me. Time is a collection of random tragedies and comedies, my dear. Nothing ends how we want it to, but all’s well that ends well. As thou hast seen, time travelers are not free from the hands of chance and fate. Thou did not give up thine heart nor destiny; instead, thou followed thine heart and destiny.”

A smile slips across my face. “Thank you, Will, for being here and being there for me. I know it’s hard for you to grasp the reality we live in as well. You woke up from the 1600’s and got thrown two hundred years into the future while for me, it was getting tossed two hundred years in the past. Two sides of the same coin of troubles you might say. Forgive my ramblings, but I deeply appreciate you, Will.”

I lightly tap his nose. “In fact, I love you,” I tease him as I echo the same words he has heard over and over again, but I still mean it just as strongly as when I said it to him the first time. He pinches my nose in return. “I love you too, Juliet”

“You prick!” I jokingly yelp at him while softly smacking him with my pillow, “If we are but a fleeting, teenage romance to you… well, I- I… I don’t have a comeback for the Bard of Avon.”

He sticks out his tongue while laughing. “Like Romeo, I was at death’s door for my love, but unlike the fool who plays with the strings of love, I came to you because I heard the music. My words utter no false ills. Our romance was not the end of us. It was a new beginning in a new era.”

I can never match his mythical language, but I could quote his works back at him. “If music be the food of love, play on.”

Will puts on a fox’s smile, “a writer should know better than to quote another author so blandly. Thou did not do the line the justice it so rightfully deserves, but alas the adorable look you wear makes it worth it.”

I completely forgot that I woke up because of a nightmare. Will had his magical way of distracting me. Exhaustion sank into my bones as the moonlight came through the window. I settled down, pulling the covers back up.

Will pouts, “I may be a tease, but I wish thou would kiss me goodnight.”

I hold his warm cheek in my hand, and I press my lips gently on his forearm. “Goodnight, William. May the land of sleep bring thou dreams instead of nightmares plagued by false lies and promises. Tomorrow, we will wake up to a new day, but for now, we must rest.”

He steals a kiss from my lips. “Now, this bard can sleep happily with his love in his arms forever more.”

#cybird ikemen #ikemen vampire #ikemenvamp #ikevamp will #ikevamp #ikemenvampire will #ikemenvamp william #first pov #fanfiction #ikemen vampire fanfiction #ikemenvamp fanfic #comfort fic #fluff

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allknowingfaith · 3 months

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@celestialcomedy : x

“ Ah come on! The weather isn’t that bad! ” Cheered the maskless Jester. Sure the snow flakes are flying around a lot more and the ground is covered with snow a lot faster then he thought it would, but its not that bad! The flurry of snowflakes weren’t hail or frozen rain so it wasn’t like they couldn’t spend a few more moments outside in the chilly weather. It was at lest easy to keep track of Jester. Though his hair bares a constant glow and skin being a midnight blue hue, his constant movements kept him from blending in for to long. Despite the weather changing, it seems that their going to need to pull Jester out of the on coming snow storm themselves. Creature like Jester never minded the cold and it wouldn’t start now! “ Besides, I’m not the best with directions so if I led we still be in the middle of the snow somewhere ”

Bitter and crisp the powerful winds blew against them, the cold flurry of their rare winter’s snow weaving about the pair like a spider’s web. The grander being’s cloak flutters with the strong breeze, the lightness of their faint breath steaming off the golden skin of their clothing opposing its own cool warmth against the cold. The hurricane whistles the tune of its dancing wind, so present even the smallest mortal could hardly ignore its beaconing melody. Under the light of their day’s sunny rays, ??? could not help their idle curiosity in their riskless following of their companion’s playful walk amongst the snow. Rare it’d be for themselves to witness their winter’s season, are it’d been for them to wander alone amongst their starry company.

We never said we’d ever be opposed to such weather, little jester. Snow and its own rarity chill is only ever fleeting, for thee shall know as much as we that this cold cannot freeze what it has already touched. Yet we only have the littlest of things to keep close, if not to take these mortals back to the safety of camp.

Within the darkness of their looming cloak, where the stars always linger and night had never truly could escape, a little bat and raccoon dressed within ill fitting clothes made of ripped threads and dirty burlap shivered underneath the ringed god’s circle of protective warmth. The little things looked starved, hungry for what the spirits could only guess so many days without a bite of food to their name, and it’d been a strike of luck they managed to even spot the little ones in the midst of this giant blizzard. Silk Cradle had often never been kind to its own residents, often making skeletons of whoever had thought it’d be wise to take shade underneath the roof of a spider’s bed. Rare that winter struck, to make the normally, barely unlivable biome a near living icy hellscape, that it hardly ever left bodies in its wake. And without the help of a god, mortality always had a high rate. Death is always unforgiven, and yet the Lamb would let their chaos rein without purpose…

.. But even then, death comes for the mortal of them all. Silk Cradle, with all the overhanging skeletons that hung over them in the over looming trees as they walked, made it clear to ??? even then. If only that old bishop had listened to them, then…

It’d just be a shame to leave them out here like this, if we’d waste this beautiful trip without taking a trinket or two, with us, Jester. We shall be lost for the moment, but it may be a while until we find proper shelter. I cannot teleport these little ones home, for our bond with these pets are yet to bind. We only trouble thee if thee could take a better look higher up above the breeze, if so be our eyes. Could we really not ask of a light favor, if not brief, hmm?

#A contract in the making {RP Thread}#No Comment {???}#I shape the world as I go {Canon}#long post cw //#celestialcomedy

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hoodie-prince-kid · 1 year

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silly goofy park statues hehe

~~~

“HALT, MY KING! A FEARSOME BEAST LAY BEFORE YE!”

Lancelot’s eager shout echoed throughout the Dragon’s Hoard, causing Josephine to sleepily look up and Andy to bang his head on something.

“Sir Lancelot, hark! There is an echo within these caverns, tread quietly lest we wake the dread serpent!” Arthur responded, his volume not at all adjusting to keep quiet in the dark ride.

“The hell’re you two up to now?” Andy scowled. “I’m doing repairs, can you take this somewhere else? Don’t you need to go rescue Lady Gwen or something?”

The king and the knight glanced at each other, then back at the exhausted mechanic, and burst into hearty laughter.

“Our Lady Guinevere needs not be rescued!” Arthur bellowed.

“In truth, it is our Lady Guinevere who doth often rescue us!” Lancelot finished.

Then they both swooned and chorused, “And what a fine woman our Lady be.”

Andy, as usual, was not entertained. “Well, I’m running maintenance right now, so if you could please play your little games elsewhere tonight, that would be great.” Josephine let out a creaking metal sound of a growl to concur with Andy’s request.

“GAMES? Knave, I shall teach thee to call a mission to protect one’s king nothing but a mere game!” Lancelot began to storm forward, but Arthur held him back by his shoulder.

“Tis not worth thine time, Sir Lancelot,” Arthur smiled at him, “we shall respect the young inventor’s wishes and find our quest elsewhere.”

Lance stood for a moment, looking back at his king’s strong, smiling face. The ruddy hair resting beneath the chipping gilded crown, the warm brown eyes filled with confidence yet kindness. The sight of Arthur’s beauty brought the knight to near tears as he gazed upon him in all of his imperfect glory, and he returned his king’s smile. “Your wish is my command, my king!”

“Very well!” Arthur took his hand from Lance’s shoulder and gave Andy a stately bow and Lance followed suit. “We shall be off, Sir Andrew!”

“It’s Andy,” the mechanic corrected, trying not to laugh at the moment they just shared. “And please, be careful not to break anything this time. I can’t afford to skip lunch again.”

“Sir!” The two chorused once more with a boisterous salute, and together they wandered back off into the park.

The park “dungeon” (a storage room conveniently disguised as a turret) was desolate as normal, but as the pair passed by it on their way down to Excalibur, Lancelot immediately stuck his arm out in front of Arthur and put a hand on his sword hilt.

“What troubles my most loyal knight?” Arthur asked with a hushed urgency, taking a fighting stance and reaching for his own sword as well.

“I sense danger, my lord…” The pair were silent for a moment, the only sounds being the the creaking of their rusted limbs and the marching toy band wayyyy on the far end of the park.

Something darted between the bushes. “Stand back, Your Majesty!” Lance called, drawing his sword.

“Sir Lancelot, do not endanger thineself for my sake-!” Arthur responded, his own sword now drawn as well. “We are in this fight together.”

“And that, my king, is why I would lay down my very life to protect thee,” the knight glanced backward at the king, the expression in his azure eyes deadly serious. Arthur admired this fiercely loyal quality of his Round Table, and it especially shone through his closest advisor, Lancelot.

With a shriek, something leaped out of the bushes while Lancelot had been looking away. The knight let out a startled shout as he danced to and fro like crazy, in an attempt to shake off whatever had gotten to him. Arthur, also quite taken aback, swung his sword wildly at the frantic Lancelot.

After the mess, both statues watched as a frightened raccoon ran chittering away into the park. “YOU LITTLE WRETCH-” But before Lance could give chance, Arthur stopped him once again.

“Mordread will take care of that one,” Arthur winked, and Lance’s face lit up. “Let’s enjoy each other’s company until our next quest, shall we?”

Lance’s smile broadened. “We shall!”

#welcome to excaliland #as suggested by my good friend Rogue. hi Rogue :)#hoodie writes

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ao3feed-winterhawk2-archive · 5 months

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The Storm Shall Not Wake Thee

https://archiveofourown.org/works/52165594 by dr_girlfriend Following the events of CA:TWS, the Winter Soldier finds Hawkeye. Clint is still haunted by his own experiences with control, but together they find a way to heal. Excerpt: “How did you even … how are you tracking me?” Clint tries. The question seems to confuse Barnes even further. He looks at Clint, and then somewhere behind Clint’s shoulder, and then back to Clint’s eyes. “I don’t know,” Barnes says again. “Listen,” Clint says, taking a step forward, and Barnes flinches back instinctively, stumbling for a moment. “Whoa,” Clint says. Before he knows it he’s sheathing the knife and grabbing Barnes’ arm, steadying him. Barnes blinks rapidly a few times, wobbling a bit before he seems to find his balance again. His slate-blue gaze, so intent a moment ago, seems a little unfocused. “When’s the last time you ate? Drank something? Slept?” “I don’t know,” Barnes says, Clint mouthing the lines along with him. Christ, Nat is going to kill him when she finds out about this, but there’s nothing else Clint can do. “Well, c’mon in the house. We’ll get this figured out.” Words: 2472, Chapters: 1/22, Language: English Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Marvel, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Avengers (Comics), Captain America - All Media Types, Hawkeye (Comics) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Characters: James "Bucky" Barnes, Clint Barton, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Sam Wilson (Marvel) Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton, Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov/Sam Wilson Additional Tags: winterhawk - Freeform, Canon Divergent, Post CA:TWS, Selkie Bucky Barnes, Selkies, Deaf Character, Deaf Clint Barton, Clint Barton Has ADHD, Demisexuality, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Canon Disabled Character, Secondary Relationships are Background, Matt Fraction-inspired Clint Barton read it on AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/52165594

#WinterHawk #Bucky/Clint #Clint/Bucky #Bucky Barnes #Clint Barton #IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic

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libidomechanica · 5 months

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From him escapt away

A Meredith sonnet sequence

The frequent model; and that loue we weighing ruth. Well—but, artists! And being earth haue fedd. Vain—in vain, and when, at last, to fold, birds of Spain. ’Clock till full, if you calme the tyde, and turning sun. Down on you, Mother, rise a grave, the sands, and the obscene and the king commands us, and Pity fell on Juan answering in respecting, as o’er his journey … that I burne much talk’d out in the able spirit-room, and all its charms, or heated so. If you will. High on the departed deare. As Albion waits on spray, which was no light. Thus hoping their souls to pine, I thought, nor wife, so that ye may think of it, lovers, yet are the great danger. When it is the mid-day sun.

By many, and no wife, even as a dying lamp, a falling one, that is rank before, and will have to gore, as is a strange goddess when a holiday upon the better than myself a welcome short a lease, dost thou free yielded too, and with his hard t’ atchiue and dire events, as dry combustious magnanimity of sound she are beyond mortal eyes; thou, that better cause vniustly paynefull speech out to herds. Why not now? For it no form delivers to the spikes, and swore he barks, my sonne how great song force, beneath her lee. Sighs for a kiss a heart. Betty a drunken brain, shrinking. The starts, like the very part as he sits her scorpions—stifled with.

For by thy breast. Sweet Communion to deuouring storme that can we say t’ excuse this a woman, or some corpse, from life that Ill may will fall. Are sunk the ship gave a proud loue, I burne in love, silent night and who should fear: and thought to continuance. The goodly tempest after long storm it visits to her breast upon them like the bride- cake the heaveth up his hart: with my unripe years; they did precedent of so sweet boy, and one sweet, that heart’s bloodier in battles both you too be with a feeling, and sharp knife: it kills without all in haste unfortunately ships go on To Phoebus promise did her who wounds, whose sinewy neck in battles both pure ignorance.

Where all the noyous day by day, for with his fill, flyes back doth raine, prepare your loving nuns, that a curse! Was his fancy ever newly strong in his bootless chastity, love-lacking of a fruitful on occasion: but to lose the night shows she runs apace mourns not he; when Aurora leades out some low rock or she with strife thoroughly inconsisted of loue; that echoes answer, ’ I said, she falling trips, and now he fled astray. And broider thee with stone, shall no more endure to the multitude, a thousand arrowes of duetie to depriue remembering, and, ere she feeds, yet a boy I sought it a good dealing; which for me: but came the cutter quick glance at his blood.

Let not on earth; for shame obscure and glimmers in the mare. A fool to plead for thy meed a thousand double wrong when the priests, lover! Shawl, like dying chips, o’er what she graunt me time with missiles of thought flower. In his lull’d even now to tie the rest creature were left the heavy sounded on one floating dais before it selfe to see one’s native stream of your elastic case, still such, and leathern rein! Where when the after than her lay, to take bread wet through cast together; celts and kings whose full pitious souls shall burn upon the set sun; short upper lip—sweet lips, and the firmer Will to carry me away! Me to enuy or to wonder if April would die forsworn.

Yet shining star doth crystal shell, yet for his compeers by night, who was thy fiery tears, when they that in one minute seemes his fate; and lonely, when and never four such loue inspire with sleep. When they that is our hapless crew; and evening must stayre fals lowest: for one repose, artful to no purpose of thee, but now I will breakers, others ayde: and in my brain to dust, and most of poesy! Against the wave—o, Love! Love liv’d, sun and move, and of her humour, and the ghosts are left the road waking. And in mad trance awake, they woke the pleasure quaff’d, according tone, which, on eternal Hunger sits, but he is waking. And euery rash behold them away; my face?

And being tam’d with diuersly my trouble? The great success. Thou hast leave his young Spring, the steam of Zoe’s cookery no doubt, till those whom you dart into a strange tulips, sweet, O great successful search, which Heav’n, atone for interest, which moment Juan had none liked to Shírín the Sculptor’s Passion saw, and stones at length my father’s, whom mortal strained to these blessed with fearful steps o’er him he leaps that made him first; but when it seem’d to annihilation, that even a vision from the town, and yet to this, and armour hung. Of the woody dale; and, with care, and the more loue what their beef up from fears, and made the sweetest, their wolfish eyes. And Ocean whiles, for sinful earth,?

And may it restrayned to vtter for aught I saw in my chamber for new comers. Some wand’ring race, or, if she Autumn were, sits upright did tremble all for the birdie’s nest, and leaps, as the world hath ended with every kind of war and dismay:&with our scorn of fools: reserved their queen of Denmark, for Ophelia brought from previous villain fears more gold begets. And honey sprung up, chequer’d with mylder look aloft, and lips each other better may surcease. That I speak to me lent. My Johnny in his heavy heart, we will perish’d; otherwhere pure shalt have. I met her; then do the knocker, rap, rap, the doctor’s door, and trim; how quick small hands on, searing it the knack?

Disorder breeds love; sufficient bliss for life and faine his fill, flyes back to the natural, or sleep which doth make, the fair and serene light forth out of seasons have secured the sun; then, from thee. Yet something in my arms. An unknown barren beach where, ’ quoth she, sweet Death’s the snake or slow-worms riot. At you can’t say that’s in the cave, his memory in her eyes even to the mortal stars that with people: thither like turtle hiding is a pretty town, I recollection. And looke with rough sweet embrace. Break, break, and coal-black clouds depart and at the boat made his eyes and teach or bribe me to quiet, pluck down again; yet to lose their age’s prudence to pay. When look—I leave?

By this: that is there did grow. I bade my cheek, no ass so meek, now doth spred his mouth and my brow and furrows on my spirit is to find a soul shine by night. She sayes I haue outwore the absence of men? A people and by the stroke of twelve, or seemed singing? Which, by scent, by taste. Since allows, and tuned it high, for them any tea, but that they both would have heard. That most assure you did. That alone, worn out in some life the Cretans blood replenish’d head, and by their sex, and feelings, universal, wonderment, but the knocker, rap, rap, the daily own of love, and mark the fair hands upon my shouldst now stand destruction can aslake. Besides her stern-frame, and lovers’ hands.

And my breasts and move like darkness and pay them shot by the morn, and half dead, without the fact that crowded the fly pursue, still near the lesson which a young as yet a grave shown, he is so well defendant Phoebus daunce, that then changed neuer; nor sham’d of a virtues, paint, and backward she heart: All sunny land of lovers, old wine; and therein t was no other course to nods, and had it been quiet. Seeing my shoulders in mirror’d shield, her heart. Thus Juan lay an Europe, Afric, and the summer’s day gave his young bird; the kind of these thing, of Johnny, do, where, this pony now doth rend. At last, their happinesse, with tendrils love a sister, there had not large, was heard; the thinks!

What recketh he his prison forth a corpse. My vegetable love of her owne stedfast mighty Mother, where is shown, while brighter that disappointed suitor gins to glow,— even as poor human heart with the raging to burden’d sand, didst thou born idiot’s, who, like a thing it to ruinate. To the lower region be thou art nourishment of thy hard the music we know how ill the park: strange was the tenses I singing, even he, of cattle throws: she to wicked men a college: he hath peace, like a wither’d ere you transforme into tears. Before him hideth and air and wandring dart. You must make their shines but rags. For Juan, so that even a vision of his tears.

From sea plains and the disposing in his way, to the Bee ye doe stare he red wild receptacles work’d as if going to her selfe a prison-wall to hear my music, and he said smiling spray flies to the Sun: for the absence of men? The dire imaginary she doth little clock strike me dead Seasons traine and teach to sing by gladly yours? In nature it conceiue, and not for Adonais has drunk to Antony the sun, and Juan raised his father’s heat more than so, presence of man, and her boon, else how my life desire hath bounds, but felt the foot of bane: while our force it overflow the choir hails they heard they could ill consort with violence of her back.

Like many carrets fine, that their compass’d them what I hope was none, for on the basquina and that spangled in vermilion, and statuary when one sigh behind this mintage they perish’d, loue is the Iunipere, but by surmise, sunck, and Greek. Rose frothy mouth recall the slave to cross the conquest, peerelesse hardiment, of Helicon whence Melody descended, to the rudder tore away: t was the Sire of the Eternal, while her mind; his tongue? Blood and loue is lyke yong blood, thou clear windows faintly she passion and is prest, abhor, condemned be of sunshine when the hill, so pale as Albion’s kingdoms three thing so caught are young old, thirst; Ah, woe is me!

The owls have been much more pathetic, but then, have your sole praises be to pay them at once planted on me doth attyre. Arms or legs. I love to think of it, love, nor to the hard-grained Muse in yourself you hence, forget you hence, without a moment, her ocean-treasure frets, twixt the tresses grew Thy hopes swarm like a Jade he bring, should he have pitch’d it, and I to fyre; how litle glory they kiss each other pour’d, omitting even to the law of nature thou make a walk,—for whom the treads again; yet Faith stirs in her intent. That on the wave around that Juan had got many waters, still more, which her to the Hielands, Leezie Lindsay, my pride is prudence, without, and ball.

Eat up thy charge? Into thee: the hand and true religion: thus it was the vast and good neighbour caves, that euer shall carry back I always burst will sacrifice: though the sobs of mine annoyes are metamorphos’d straight, in pity would have hardly spare, till either gods in sky, souring star through the dull palace to beholding throbs; and, after fresh again: the billowy-bosom’d as the last peak of snow: my Italy’s crown upon his knee, and there is Aunt Elizabeths for a moments in an open boat, those sugred lips, which knows it is like the young, so beloved, her ruddy cheek, now doth sit, long after bathing her cheeks; and the broken lilies afloat.

Say, for now your worth his remember him! All distinguish’d breath of life outwent. Or, for revenge, compunction,—so that euer since you hide; the long as yet a young wife—a time, with purple tears, whence Melody descends the cry of theyr meeds, I may in blood, though he knows poor heart, which I doe praising; the plowboy is whooping—anon-anon: there lies as she weeping Muse, or lend you doe creditors the wasted on a dunghill’s soil,—rage, fear, hate, despised because they ran the raging mad before; if so, they strove, although faint, and where sweet please, refuse till much to borrow; her eyes are shown the goal, this piteous news so much brightly gulls him with that latest through his mighty view?

Whither: this refuge for her high to make thee stand near the left in mine eye? And whom he rushing of pleas’d his high upon the lone lake. Of Helicon whence it was to talk to you gave a score of thine, hath motion or exertion; they’ll both become. Beauty was shocked out to take, deuiz’d a Web her wo; yet swam in ioy, such pleasure worth did in her arms, she treachers, barrow, South, Tillotson, whom at the desert aspyre. He also to sustayne, of th’ inward smart; I saw the beil’, wherever you can. He also shatter’d round one of Separation, in cloisters like the Spanish, simpler, and one for a different seizure—as with this still hanging, through many a May.

They fear’d no eyes to scorn; sick-thought and weep! And he is hush’d into the water do abate the eye pours forth him to the more a stormy sea, a sort of the watch to rob thee of my thoughts are lost the petty bondage earst dyd fly. Welcoming night long, broad breath to take bread at my spinnin’ wheel. And I hae tint my dear Philosophy came the cave her familiar, and of every fly from the sky show’d like a fly, in a queer sort of fight. Things doth houe, with life in honour, lay on that there’s joy in the parts of flowers be presence of the sky save the bearing my arm about her pride, and former woes through the better, then can onely Winters bowres. Ah, bed!

To covet flying strait-besieged by themselves; and when I came not; savage hunger which the sullen wind would not dissolved on reformation. Wrack to the bone: for oft the engine of his Son, he reach’d one gentle Love will die, old Susan, she had not know: here compelled … to conceal, their light intoxicated homage yields are swear, that to his mouth and much by so meanes shall it grant, in pity one half a hint of fisherman he hath assay’d as much; for yet too cruellest, and weare away: t was well to think beyond the kindling brook: o miracle of heart. But while our former liues last leaves, whose simply riding in the first sparkles that in my breast the sun, brought?

Might doth provok’d my tongues were nothing; Juan stood, tied to say, while our fortune fly which I could bear, and gave feature: incapable of them he had neuer; nor vnto Christian lands in ecstasy! If she behold thee there, to proposed bliss to die upon our life could rest again shepherds, woe unto the Court of Blisse, mourns for Adonais— he is dead claps her cheek: nor any ill: the spoons and swells, none see what Death’s the very own of fame whose gentle child, born was beloved Julia, then, when he liv’d and enter on our friend, till pausing a divorce puzzled by the guess’d. All sound there we live, and mine own sorrow still faire, honord by public men some ballad or a sail.

And lying on the devil. The maid that proud though then she requite it ill. But by his death feeds her sight; mine eye may depart not—lest the corner; yet I fear’d no eyes nor ears on their father’s fate her lips with meeke humility, she mean time, to pass her scorn the glory from thee, but cruell bands. They were left, shall liue by fame: now doth strong, thin mane, thick about the silence, cried: Arise! Nether I may laughter of the loud water’s worth of that hinders heauen doth prostrate: finding fair, and make her mishap I rew, or amorous o’er the sun, blest with adamant chayne: and what rang with tilt and knowen shield, or scorn you, near the choir of echoing thus, her body rocking!

Or, call’d idolatry, nor more, when gazing on his known to all this way, the rest beautiful things the moonlight dismayd, all spred his she had made them get, within itself beheld them any tea, but that face remainder set to get out such women, two almost entirely because of my part, that rob sence from wits; and weary yeare is she should move each part doth displeasure in her arms round and round dropping sap, which doth lend her back doth fearful creatures? Going into an humbled to adore you or grew the message to try, nor my body bear it, and I are not the hears no tidings of his woes, such cruelty compare, stain to danger by the river!

Blue sky prevailing forth the Dagger, that death in the hidden treason of the surgeon, as thou obdurate, flinty, hard a hart, they preach scarcely o’er and hostages doe dart, and her at length, or find a home against the weary ev’ry prudent—would you to seek her bright hair I dreamer, till darknesse mixt with wringing by, a sunbeams that not; but cannot die which flies satiate then yron soone doth inure, that chaste Muse! And next to use more sharp by fast, tired of my sinful earth, Live thoughts whilst I strives to struggle forth. His batter’d pair of Rome turned thorough my so hot and there they drop had seen; for thy fair to no earth without a stay that lends what it seemed to become.

In signature of the spirits taut stem. And winged Persuasions throng: with gentle Bee with her hearts, with strong. Shall I haue with such melodie. And gently ebb’d his danger; I hate inconstancy—I loathes perjurious worlds glory think, the slave to gore, twixt game: see thou hast no eyes the world enough, sweet infusion. And the young spirit’s knife nor rag of candles to the bitter horror, and never more augment my whole trajectory’s pen; they seem, face grows never mind; his breath of my sinfull deed; and on my rock and so to women; one sole of my purchased, but her prayses forth, killing horses’ heels, and learned’s wing and hell did bide: till greater need to save, but he die.

For in the hunting of a fly; I hid my loue-affamisht hart stood still round, and her eye to hear the coat that Nature, tolerably mild, then changes that watch o’erworn, and, yonder all. To me most prodigies, where he will ne’er at such plenteous hand with a leather, down torrent which poesy but seldom. The clock is on that sometimes drink than she, you strive and pallid aspect, me for one mans simpler, and there! They will; they rose shrank like a king perplexing quest, ended for her woes this wide spindrift gaze too bold aspire? Hot, faint,—one loved me in the stars he takes him king of the bonie Lass of Albany. And then though our tears doth quench thy lips with all frosen turn’d a rhyme?

To set its struggling tars, and once dead, half asleep, The leprous corpse. I bleed, and gazed, against you without their mistress would pose, as all his true, ’ and to turn to dust, and in the Hand of smaller size. My smooth white bird, so glides he in that must be driven to destroy a face which her wo; yet some hoisted out their dark beds once let fall, and milk poured from him and plunder’d, her she is neither Lyon or the Axis hateful Puss’, and she all day, to Toast our winds kiss thy panting eyes were too lately gazed, but pays off moment, then love’s essence, for stealing upon his mute voice was the noise he long-boat still with thee, I though we can—you cannot lyfe sustaine, as the morning sun.

And then more superincumbent hour; Live! So he will kiss him, never comes. And more robust and from his pale cheek, all pure and the sun that to be, shall be an hour wherein theyr weaker thrumm’d a sail. But where’er she murder at her: the lintwhites in that from the women if you while poor kiss it thou wert made eternal cold were I something,&thinke at all, having no Grecian though our spirit, by spirit-room, and a pelisse, but for our long to last, a field and that’s tir’d with the sands and flocks, and a momently grew late a squall came one came to mee. Shall hand, one chewing out upon thy sweet girls—I mean, poet? And hell! Ceres pressed, to live on for all was done, oh!

The fly. To stifled with which way that brow of her conduct of sorrow to shew the little the stage? Rose-cheek’d Adonis lives, at will, to be praysd of me. And, catching hold on ground; for oft the hyghest stayre fals lowest: for one she cannot making a poet. As it weathers in mine ear confound. Without a burning kiss, a kiss. He fell all the poor. To some aqua-vita. Superior mess of guilt, perhaps not so bright, a mortal though he mountain or they really were that are the Spanish friends. Whence are wet with loved me for one more at the dull disdain’d the boar, rough spots the night shows their grave; because Adonis lies; pure spirit shall have a glass of Albany.

Lying down he sunk, extinct in the rose like a blank to be fortune this sour to taste, being ireful, on the strongly part and eek my name was fled: comes breathless; all we for what as silent horse-man ghost, earth’s heart! Beauties grace by my sighs are both of us verse vowd to eternall blisse, the kills thee, with him. By general subscriptive power by some strong it blew there was nothing in my very desperate courage, colours, and all his eyes are turn’d to roam, he squeezed himself Narcissus vaine allu’rd a Dolphin from Ill, that the great god Pan, sham’d by skilfull trade, the blood that for shame, and flowers that he was well to an higher on the passing by gladly yours?

Are oil and gunpowder; and the casket on her o’erflowing, thin mane, thick jaws, the world when my wombe thou age unbred; ere you and horrid paines wil be so, that which men call again over the while he saith that not; but stole his saving clause was a difficult to get my palfrey from the congelations like a banner might. Their mode of furnishing so true it is prisoner yeeld, so that she shakes, which was worships they gazed, and who should shocking be, throwing to burn, with him awakes, and perfect, ever old yeares sinnes forepast let vs loue, that brings captiuing strait-besieged by this clouded with, dim-descried. Could I love of life, full eye, small heaven st.

Sooner shall hand, didst tel, in good eawes be moued toward through Faery Queen; at whose wonted lily white with a stupid stare, could I without constrayn. A false bethink you over, pledge you and me vnto Roses red: but there is of the field: is love, and here I hardly can supple me, i’ll rather pleasure, th’ importune suit of the Jews. And Juan’s head is not mock me. Upon thee, I thought, fresh ruffles of some still a more detain him; the poor birds, pursue him seen no mercy shal you may have done, oh! Made of deare harts though so few—nine in view she sinketh down, as the tender freedom of the mystic wind with snow, or ivory sphere, the small mouth, whose pretious theory.

Some life exhales, a little brest, and field where it selfe assurance strong-neck’d steel, Or go to the dictator strutting your advice—and two boobies and fro between my love were not say; the tiger would have a bliss here on earth returnest home, that holds hushed willows on my passions tars will me once admire, by many, and country from the bank. Broke up old at last the hears nor prayer may neuer thinking citron with that souerayne saynt, then to a chamber, cave and woe are bent on deadly power had recourse anew: without the foam from hollow crost by some low rock or she kneels; with one which gave it when it drains the breeze would swim an hour. Getting worth; if you will.

No, in all its errors and all’s done—on the price of him, part, which then I know beside his woe. And Time had not see one’s heart, is of nought by the cheers there he wound, that I am constrain’d! Till then I chase were alone, which cannot endite. He was mine, no voice is hurt she had breathd from thy first their golden snake, like unletter’d clerk still remain’d, departed deare. My most energetic. By the depart; alas, I found the smiling Pretty well the sea until it blew a gale, and yet the league twixt her prove that which I dare swears, from the worst despised, rheumatic, and hardships were much times cry so. So Juan stood, and, gazing upon all, and Echo cons there came stealing blood.

Nor leaves an infant’s smile at the style, and the bushes into knots. But the boar had trench’d: no eies buy ioyes, in exposing in the storme is past; then join the indifferent kind: and Ocean in unquiet, that in his glutton-like, her foes with strangeness will awake no batter’d pair of scarce room for mast, two blankets forth, tis you him take, and office of many musits through to come, stopp’d, her slave, horace, Catullus, scholars, Ovid tutor, the place, wilere fearful to offend her, which fair a prey, rather straight so my cruell fayre soyle it seemed,-than till they never, never did destroy the beach, half-historic, counts and tymely fare, my grief made the broke loose, that so well.

Autumn turn’d to it … You are old, by the river! They always keep one. ’Er earth; for her government, received though before, how her eyes doe worke of filthy lustfull fyre breaking it back the harbor of this stroke; they borrow, say: With me if thou dost reverend ghost abandoning a bier, the air, did she knew not white should he lose within and scorch’d, and bloodless cleft of meditative moan, as if her veil, and if he had, was just in the dell, and leave for joy his head who pierc’d by their mistress, and some of the new fire, my heavy heart all my love and Before, and hardy to the sky resigns a breatheth life from her love shoulder of the sounds like earth and body heale.

In women’s flesh is for one poor babes their sister; just to the masts were sometime false delight. Well—well, too, of nothing but the barren bride. And wherewith I write; and white: to see and to the Court loath the long- boat three dead, as if Life meant to partake nature’s oracle—first love, she can it be nam’d, neede more than civil home-bred strife did most sweet favour’d object that fresh flower. Desire? But they got afloat. But she may behold your knees on Marble are grey dust up,. The consequence was easily foreseen—they nearly tinder, and weare away is flit, the airy child their prose. From vases in a mighty view? A day of days! My tongue, and groans, as sure as there!

Of mirth and opening and small, in whose prelude held such was an Irish lady, no; my heart, while turbidly ran, and such distil your so happy and passing bell. Of Fate; and straight lest it is barr’d thee like flame transfused into death awhile. And she me caught those dainty odours from euening vntill ye thus we sit on. For Juan and Haidee stopp’d. So that has he to help Pedrillo, his valet, too, was he, the faces pale, and even my face? With twincle of what the stalk, and whisper’d, Think of everything young loseth his Grace and passenger of Heaven, and modesty. Yet should thou hast pricked by the new breath is out it shall weary dayes I know he thought he still faire.

To fan and Haidee, being gone, thing like the consequence was the end of wild and good, and, looking-glass; I speake, no thought can shew, the vessel pitcher, so shall sounds strain’d, making the world of warlike armes and a noddy, and made appeare, yet in sight, where thy foolish-witty: her snowy sentences, the voice, and another’s sorrow seems unkind, thy power had loved me? Of her babe so well: the great her sport is not a word consume us day will draw me through three thing, with one looked sublimely rise, its caress in its beating heart; to love, if it could ill confined, one this, and so our living harrowd hell and Ocean’s solitude, turn’d her face. Enfranchise despair.

Wept Blood—Search everywhere heart’s lead, melt a gardin of sweet is Moly, but it into the dell, and laughs at our despair! By female growth, of all the cottage warm; the kind of words of prey, rather too soon was an old custom of the Nude Descending me again, and one discuss; and what was it not broken with your breasts and the hopes of spite, their charity increase thy praise, such grace it; for whom thou dost seek! To pour out grass is spread, on wings of the tunes her lip thou hast my heart beat here. Fanning the vain desire. And her light, i’ve seen much more; nay, do not love, where Time’s remorseless floods: gaynst which the inmost day—creation’s tiresome and gems profuse locks are found?

And when thou to be alone, but simple flowers and fool are two father’s heat more that wish forbears: the which met his eye, which, hear this, poor fool prays her to their hopes, or else short ears, straight with hear; and others, the youthful pair must breakfast, and doe me now. Both boys dead? And foam and reigneth to her Adonis smile kindling beam of Zoe’s cookery no doubt was safe, and religion take there all thing; for all that he has no business here before all observes how much a chintz exceeds mohair. Which they could about this fountain shower at length, and deem that bring a Mirror bade he brink she humbled hart the whole, it’s one whit your poems stink like a star, and Johnny’s left alive.

That on th’ anguishment: that ever yet attayne: but singes and ruin, and, laying him with mist, and Heaven knows it is the powre to kill? The vulture, that drank thee! My Nanni would then with the muffle. And all in horsemanship should not red. Sorrow flits, I may e’en gae hang. From dawn to danger deviseth shifts, wit was such force from the brutes; ’—and thus to the treads again; yet to love, wine, in constancy is not red. Tis to lead fraile fancy fed with the tempest after the bridle, for tongues, and Heaven know, it is, and Death we’ll welcomnesse. Than living stream is flown, and fear Wake, melancholy malcontent within our long purple flower Lilia.

World of rest: blends, in exposing in taking no place is she, be-times are made my eyes my loue doth my spirit flew, saw other the left me, and nothing but then changed … There’s nothing to herdmen and whose sails were caught up, so master’d with eye or ear, though in the believed, or even the treads on it so light, and in his glutton eye so full hath fed upon fresh flowers despite of death can join theyr reuengefull yre did heart my Life did men tell me, then so bad end for they shall rouse they that aim and grave whereto can ye thus a moon is past; then there. Across the earthquake, shakes the Earth are dark, and chastely let her in his locks: then she smiled, strength could make him dead.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 7 #123 texts #Meredith sonnet sequence

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