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libidomechanica · 11 months

Text

“Ill neer till he still witherd was release”

A sonnet sequence

First Stanza

I’ll ne’er till he still wither’d was release. Juan would have you cleave to keep afloat they wrung to each them, but see me because I am gone down heavy, ticks of silk and sweet flow over make him quite in our report, and, home. And then a dance upon each canto. Her brow. But cruel fair: urg’d with sorrowful noise precipitates. A bloom, till to enioy. Hart of light, if but Salámán’s face, and still the inner and then assum’d, which now it’s pride; when one’s fame shows who would like nectar strength of old Ancona, without a decent cannot exactly they! Should avenge, if any credit.

Second Stanza

It was her exultation rises, or like a cedar fell’d. Villain fears, which make her maid—and present jeopard, a foolscap, how idle rankle round us they can pronounced himself over they passion, just and me. I’m welcome as Divine. Was an old Harp be modulated as balm of a climbing its walls which way into her boats put out even a visions: they to embrac’d. He gazed on reformation. Which crowning in her life. And by those of being full of soul—she came a spouse, ’twas almost prying to tell me a joke about my eyes appetites constantinople. First, and all thing extant when her tongue was no opening o’er him you’d left me by thee, walking on her, and what worth; if you were breathe apart; alas! They caught by pachas, some braw lass made a paul; and sing and sleep—the poor Pedrillo withstand could not. The forest-tost; and heart submits towers!

Third Stanza

Is liquor; pedro, his voice is stirred porphir is, while poor little hamlets, will know that made a young bird whose ever be there, this husband,—or some beauty’s gray station; when thee. Nearly rear’d upon the Mind like to be through to see there came at anchors at here. Of a new delight. ’ Unless it would hope and till passing against though his rough the bed to hold by the land of love too became dive bare-limbed cherries by the head; then write me new poems by young—I see, Sir—you have slept all then lay a moment beyond all is too-too cruellest, dearest bands untwining? As I write a skin.

Fourth Stanza

Greek, with all the sea and crocuses, and bind to flourishment, depart of Zoe’s cook’d shadow fell sicker—o, Juliana comes to strike, the very rarely executes its effect, yet look’d back from aboue, which shall meet them had little brook from when thousand battles, in short, it is dark, her speculation with joy are you, may I fail and that and gipsy bonnet be there he that used them appeare, in your carpet or blood. An’ made an awkward the ladies are empty cells, but cold have forgotten thou see and earth, before going away. For Juan and such skies o’er whom we can look out?

Fifth Stanza

Other hips. Souls more prophet eye seems as inconstancy is not unlike and half glazed, and not deep, or like crescent cannie, O Methough far off then! Thus it were stranger’ dying: help! And the spirit in front gate, pulling him in the just’-save them but mockeries of the Horizon is overhung wife—a time, not now come too hot and still he lay, full of your word; put upon our knees are gazing on an endless fellow, but your worst from her pitiful. At least his spaniel, hardly cold: such a life could you so proud Achilles, wealthier lust I ne’er till pleas’d. There, its dwell upon the grass, and sables throne universal death the heart of all is brief dreamed how or grog, ’ they look down upon beef—I won’t say too much truth as snow bloom, i noticed you to trace—more horrible! Until I grasp’d, and sweet girls are one half he clung around the fifth day where wintry sun to Heaven.

Sixth Stanza

To be miss’d her, and render all help think of men, because of all that stately clear, they found something till now by her summoned by those we could at last although to mind. At the world from Noah’s ark, he wanting its lips of roses, and silver only wonder way while his words, and find you had a flowers, and if t is as the who ne’er at suckling blade them together, must be postponed discreetly slept in garrison. To find, by distant hills; the dim desolate deep cold that heap of Prayer, or two shark, they still to eat, and ivy dun round there an heirloom seeing the modesty.

Seventh Stanza

Up Juan spoken of Denmark, for the other reasons have cease while ones leap, and, they be, the language, too, be off! There is a breath, a king: the bounty fed; and walked, nearly so,—don Juan leaves not of sights more to blasted hour! A fine extensions of that I recoiled feel now the Frank. A grand politely nurst, and foole, this I never been; they were to behold; last day! Come, let me pour my troubles me his wreckage. He turns to have to pass, and the or eyes that nights, chaste Muse! To his mother by thy ill gouernement, the first old Harp be modulated thus, it was no life to Sorrow!

Eighth Stanza

Do not beautiful white lines of Majesty unwaned! At sixteen cast up round my kneeled at times do I love it all these please hath been they began to life, for the first half: leave them as easily as braw, and sped as a fair hearts to her in his transcends to what you that sets one’s garage I fell upon my pen, and they could ask me why the valley-fountains and choke on a middle of elements length one of the Harper’s hand. Wherein the Spanish, Turk, or Greek maid in his most even the mystical it full-stop here a negatives back Her, nor skill, no bar, onward, tall and shifts, shivering, full character’d bark was sternly stir her own; and, saying, dying for, wherein those which slays even still frailties thy gyfts bending. The bonie lass that I may not this damp and flood on the differings of Love a date: sometimes a living on the planet’s how you fresh again.

Ninth Stanza

If I have rarely deadened me lived exceed there’s arms, and matrons, translucent wavering still pay you? Their sad words repeat the yawl and in the wet date palms tip towards its dwell upon her being dews of the answering still remember, but name is should do not late. By a dismal cypress lying on the yacht’s rubber dinghy. And me. Awaits at last carnival she I love or nothing shook her, olive, and kindle fire their health, where twenty, Tam. Well, who couldn’t see this is obvious crew; by night. Heavens you were alone, throw myself, beside with those white as fresh and ill.

Tenth Stanza

Having, painted into the Grotesca— such a famish’d marble pilings. And—but such them as a child the new portmanteau, perhaps more wise to anticipate the most unpleasant were born, to save. With grace, red light we are vast: whilome thoughts of love shall figure,—the moon does the blasted to me; Blythe I turned, which one conveying that ken me, whose lips drew nigh the tumbled to dispense, it would growing where natural her loves her more than living voice, and down thirst to me. Our freshlier came, and then we live in me like a single without know nor sails; the window’s bent widely spun; her eye!

Eleventh Stanza

Queen Virtue kept two books having notes, irregular beauty, you may hearts, that looks on the remain’d at Love’s longer dressed in the rose as one struggle to imbibe it, the fires. Must have been sent to heart—the same, simple cotter’s mirror, an offer than her will, I am true for some people take a horror of these thick with the sail was said they caught, and streams are fair Day, awake! Last gasps, as they heart as we face of placed them like a screen, when Love and holds, though fast to be male, and the darksome name I have a tatter’d paid daily visiting as with a stupid starlight wood, its lent.

Twelfth Stanza

And with those blood flower on her lap from love’s dearie; the zephyrs waft the turn’d may be Neptune, Pan, or so; a gentle mard, when ecstasy! The black as dead; corruption of her living stands, now they bearing on the stirr’d by the one you up inside my heart—the shipwrecked sailor when you went cruising will seek my loue with your eyes, and knows its Incomes ane an’ twenty, Tam! Fit for miles, a little lazy lover hied, all passioned in my Soul until away terror, and flatter of introduction made a vow of all. For feeling mine, despondency and him; Juan, to my onward life, and I listening lover hie, the wind seem princesse of rest: and his chain and there—do go. At home some discussion of living which is not this dewy curls were ever, which it size—how much I love rows, my wag, if they began to maintained: but where he doth call for her vineyard—yes!

Thirteenth Stanza

And tilted you I under do you go? Our hands to the golden lights he’d seen a lovely gift, thy soul would Prudence’ direst bands untwining? First began to lingering sun, and wailed and sometimes could not unlike a jestest with her grow old? Thus, which, like a village cars will I attempt to know a moment Juan woke at last the surge, not knows? The cloud, above me feel estrange, so thou wilt, but for some still the rest whole wreathing the scant eye, or perfect the luminous pass’d and the core o’ the frock and cuckolds. Round him do, in fact, they be all vital though sleeping. I dream appear’d to be.

Fourteenth Stanza

Radiant Sister with his death a convulsions somewhat fond of thy hear, it was God, the glisten to the braw lass than solemn and ever fee, and statuary a virgin Margent several language chiefly from everyone here play till to come thou; althought he leave heart to half surrounded on one side, and can’t but their souls and aye she reconciled demeanour, that still overlooked back. Broken wind and sank to the wind would like the bass, to shortly Tita, was love rows, my bosom’s charms could not so pleasure; i’ll ne’er he mutter’d, omitting all along tried in like a screeching!

Fifteenth Stanza

Oh, never sets, and Echo the death: the bed to the master the cave: her spinnin’ wheel. The like the held her own; thus dies with me ye women as the servant some unseen to part of Living voice was one brief hours and political dinner to half of lots were brook from the like: an Arab horses; here is loving in denays, this was not sound of clay. Joy sparkling fell,— she there sang with strict to served; shoals round fortunes were roll’d on the flower of that he came to the sun’s, and cells, glided along the very dropping cause forth, you move her for each other like described from the Song.

Sixteenth Stanza

So indefeasible echo, an awkwardly. Beside my heart is like a butter fire calling silent sea, and shoutèd and ocean when it hold out the East doth main and watch her son to be whole life to Sorrow. That useful sorts of men—youth descended, but love, what I do confess that moon roll’d onely glade, a maid I met, but the wild and unkind; no less fair, leaf, or a juggler hatchway one terror, and the fair. By the worse, a sluggish wife, snatch’d and shiver the shuddering o’er his lot, and tumbling long life-angel o’er my heart felt againe. And one days grew a fashion.

Seventeenth Stanza

A clean: for those. Sleeping on the faith feel the town became and yet alas, yt is a living far: first was more life seem’d dead. But if flames when two, althought daily visitor: I am waiting around to kiss, and the last every balls of his native street; in lover, their lives, and cuckolds. Hands in ev’ry glen they reckon’d bowe yourselves, that fair of Lugo, but doth bow to accept a better than a grapes, maud the lover surely wound you give way, subdued because I am to followed me. My mind to room—but a crack’d old many a heavy day befall, maud the depths of Love.

Eighteenth Stanza

And as balm for us, and thinke those suffer her, olive rains and with his old love were not being with mist, and laughter, vie with you. Of it. Your nipple, cradle near the only one the color of those two hand ere he told of these Four where are danger. Dawn in war on his blowne away! The Wicked dreamt of fire in the sky show’d it down in the spray, so may you in your looks which country people in a mountains and on Fortunes before, as o’er a bed to rave, and smiles, and that awful kinds of billows so respectacles work’d as it was shee. Could leap who reachers; much grace, that went.

Nineteenth Stanza

I something has its dare not alone as that fain’d. Such permanent found of reasonable, in case we quite a fools whom thy face; the Sun upon his face, thoughts and white this world and if these became divested too alien to Jove growing dogs have to kiss the makes not much I loved by no friendly shadow, dull silver only, and even though first time and people called me wed a weak and gipsy bonnet be the stars will with number yet reflecting as brain full of calmest mood: he fell. But for the cask. Within her language chiefly by his sad interrupted not as the pine it.

Twentieth Stanza

Read it not. If cause, constancy. My pass, and thought daily task had knows what remarks which cloys, for their hope to heaven bet: the mortals known thy love, the tumbled, in the girl and her quake; he whole life for love my Nanie, O; but Anguish wrung around to hers, too. Chance to partakes the subway jerks, I love you were nor grasp them when who longer locks of much long lives, and makes men call roll before; day by feelings vse to heaven knows,—it may do right he said, but fix’d eye seem’d sometimes a gleam of you all was plainness of living hoar-frost we clutch, and silent ocean. Then shed, hissing a tomb.

Twenty-first Stanza

Made but ensigns with your life ye know, the Song. Men, women, not new flames which shocking it up when you are sunk, the joys&desired. A drop had sunk again, and so that lucent as they hurt me. Faded starting pang, the oddest,—I lay next morning brevity. Ordeal was more, to make, that each day to save, but live, and a voices that with hope denying; by a distance, we enter, a space before there all inconstant spirits, never die; in arms, wi’ a’ her chosen: what t was not alone; she wish’d in vain a squabble; I catch their hapless story make perfect, however die.

Twenty-second Stanza

See thee manifold, I pray. At the edge of doom. We’re ever shall unconscious state, for the wind of ever writhing, and children in this face, and unwilling waies of them that cruell. Like the bed to get up part of heavens, and misbegotten million of human kind of eyes, brighted pigeon taste who reach’d eleven; but being days’ sweet love. In Paris, at least, dun and bread, then thou canst, and be chain’d to conceits, all they thought in good luck, still like decay was no business of Welcome some people must step. Days off a life in death destiny both sides being mute, which yet never fell’d.

Twenty-third Stanza

At fourscore, engrave unborn, and he himself he couering sports made to be clean Heart- of-Hearts, the boat—the child, born without a groan—who bade his shade, I fill my arms, and speaks you found a sweet comparison, which once-named myriads name. Scarce fit for one of the sea-bird’s wing. But the yacht to drown me invite to watch you did it best a race of my eye; what is, till get through the sky but for the vulture in fear, needing my head, by that sparkles dim; and gazed, and chafing his muse, till in sorrows colder the balm of a convulsions are free, they near two shark, and when his touch’d by Time—the Hall!

Twenty-fourth Stanza

And he had little hopes of purity. That neither for me? There would be, no doubtless, her beckon’d, which was happy are lost irrevocable vow of life. At they roar a rarity. Unseen Powers upon your buds and odd stand! You loved, all she I love. You have loved rashly, her human frames are a new-fall’n years ago. And other to the heavy price in poesy but sunk to my though a life is gone for your virtues, even the dove from those who have prey; although it not.—The sky, who long ere Juan’s breathe approaching which speak—they have wakes, and lay no mother, the Gulf of Lyons.

Twenty-fifth Stanza

In hope,—perhaps not much stone flash’d upon its nameless, timeless free; her mortal thing still more, and dry.—Lovely Rose,—tell her chosen: what the call its stitch’d handmaids and I shall figure and his man to fall, m ontgomer y, rich man’s face—but sought how long stand like any others were cut down sorrow lights before you up in this poor remedies is blood, and that them wet, a pretty captive as I stood, in their care, and sweet May-dew my wings worth, the birches partly because the rest, the moss is grown her, but quicker—o, Julia! The nights elapsed before unknown but now that moment see?

Twenty-sixth Stanza

Its Incomes fortunes of spongy pitcher until you, to endure, and if e’er was difficult as a noble maladies, over the World to the Garden dark blue veins children picking out upon the graue concentrating by in total silence best of my Firmán, he quicker elements was an old custom of their house falling supply: in my brow, while laigh descending spray, so may young—I see, Sir—you have gives me, maybe kissing by in total silent horror of sweet a flower region of pistols, dirk,—they knew all. Wind with Scio wine, and all her sweet lips I seal my vocal rage, he waters since wound round for him, and people giving; so thou art out a rill, if cause your look upcast to the lighted to testify their thick solitude, and thou found it dim; and like the beautiful! A most supermarket, one keeps looked back to linger thing aside; he whole.

Twenty-seventh Stanza

Wanderer from her Name to ply with all the present thou for whatsoe’er she could not on me unaware, which pants within my mouth, an’ gar me loved. Cameras, and the act, with choise delight: nor doth come the chase when I’ll all recovery’s date, and bade on to blessing you do! Fill the sun, his enemy’s fleck and so that than whole life is but to her touched a thousand dewy on the small old days of shatter’d charms could not know you for when I pull you who had sailed for the wintry swain, althought a princess at hands to the allegory a mere tyranny grew sea-sick. And down the light.

Twenty-eighth Stanza

And in the Harp of Song? Now my spinnin’ wheel romantic, from above your loved, as her past: some discourse of Futurism just when noon is broad, bright; if this Old House of a broad moon were breath, of constantly was natural, and his cave, but spends so fair eyes, before how to lover’s case; for all along; and the envious nights, placed at the case, at the ruffian’s the came not staid, pleasure loved, as when on your true loved, as here and pinnace, here the cordial pour’d in all help of barbaric carving, that does crowning in a trances, and his native earth paradise. Therefore your valentine.

Twenty-ninth Stanza

But womankind’s Eye it in three beautiful, and the Host in the breeze in these he felt as a sometime declines, and unwilling you never mortal and gilding, but to singing in the green the lines clawed in vain she had perisheth on the currant of existence. More friendship, call’d central, ’ in the lasse, alas there greenwood echoes rang, amang the littering, but for I have provoked remarks which first time the best of my mind to rob joy of the treat; against movie screen the middle of men, if soul, and the share his tuneful neighbour by this. To weathers of eloquence, survives.

Thirtieth Stanza

Two times, lest the Pelegrini, she had never shall find not upon the gate now, the men, and yet they began to fade … until all boundary it seem’d full of the Polish Rider occasionally am how shall being mine, nor at length dissolved so. And if e’er I fill at you more nutritious matter; while, but not carefull hower, where he was his past, and turn’d to tears be sheds, he asks me bien, and memory of our life could makes his damp and blew a gale, that dost shines the upright Phoebus light, in fact, the cloud, above; for it seem’d my hear, it’s sometimes a little had deck’d men.

Thirty-first Stanza

And when shall lay my prayers, and some playthings as the climes these things are but their young, and sae in love is a kind the scented prime, life’s fashion, when she had perisheth on the young Aurora kiss, a kiss a heavy faint, and crow flock o’er the other, thirsty each other seat while we lose possess survivors. Many a bore, true surge, no novel word by his dream’d; the sheds, he asks me biel and they wear. And love, the old man, now all dreamt of fishes’ caller Cyclades a very wander’d on till pursue howe’er unpleasant people, out of doors, and me. I am sick with a millstone, spanning rings pours his senses all they were all the doctor quacks us, that rolls in me is Love. And yet against not to the pools that equal tranquilly thing as a meadows, with my calm and Satan’s moaning vein, before on the World! The pale mould, art so unkind turn upon my spinnin’ wheel.

Thirty-second Stanza

As for the world: the same call, a thousands, perhaps not much to seamless: but throughout a Single with the sensation would have faith, hush’d, and, each otherwise with raptur’d view, and waves in Styx; a mortal wish to be perchant-vessel’s keel thing else to the cutter found stems the sink. And shuns to painted summer. Want to be told him down, because, the front gate, and always wine, where and can’t but with his danger of hell-fire—all prepared a name, shall who deign to repeat the Heart to come with the moons they wink with skin stretch’d down sorrows freshlier chiefly by a dismal stories curiosity.

Thirty-third Stanza

Io, but not a weeping from the sculpture of love you fearful steps of roses for Sin. A month and purgative street; in showers upon their store, butchered from some eggs was well delighted vows fleece of gold, of one focus, kindle fire, are very day on day, gross spirit-room, and they inflict they could ne’er had seen unequal transported, but do not kill in fix’d upon the glance, that has a tough job to make the small a partings former might enter of you all were on me unaware, and yet, forget till griefs are empty cells for ane an’ twenty of Majesty unwaned!

Thirty-fourth Stanza

At least be dead long such as a dandelion seeing true loved, but why? Under the pray’d at Love’s fire his voice was fair, and deathly ache a jurymast, and butter for beauty is creatures—but seldom mentions: despair, cold, nor shines are obliged to me, and knows why, I have got no men and in your Castlereagh don’t pretence and loves the dark sea, resting worm, so innocence and the promontory, the part in his island. I can market with the sole lady, to my own of love! Bending song that all the dews of blood-hounds, and wash’d their eyes than they sought; and it fall: they wandering.

Thirty-fifth Stanza

But clear how sweet society; even when I think upon such; for wrongfull pot of your labor and chains of life. And loves her, but silk is whistle, as poet Wordy swore him back from Nubia brought; and tall and them a curbside pools that purple hectic play’d like a Child yearn, as well in; so well: dear trace the sun’s, and the burnies troubled his former woes; but what are bad. Mine was an old customed visits towering me some people this curse. At this advanced to me; as love is her successful, was anything, that thou falls, a black whirring of the sea until away terror find.

Thirty-sixth Stanza

Today in myself, so loneliness; the spot each through tame. Came the same; serenely spun; her hand, which being, swear, and me. Against all forgiven, and only their school, if they near me still lay terror find. The wind while my Juliana comes the public kindness clogged throne, you was nothing in its effects procur’d by an arm, yielded a day’s life, which ever was fair, just lie down, and down to them, treacher and for everything. With a show; and those that was; no dirges low rang in that the Sprite goes. And that sets one’s native land. As a coal; and mix our should complete they heart, and some brink?

Thirty-seventh Stanza

I noticed their dishonor. Not fear I would have felt below, who long such materials: she had suffering, thou make my bane. I feel it strike thee to touching Wisdom, I shall lay thee my face; her earnestness of the cracks of sun had been all’s over, the blue quilt and handsome limb and she leaves rain! A person to the snow’s daughter, clear melodious lay, as far as Cho-fu- Sa. The sunk of alarming, she to fall, maud the plainness of earth when I saw two walk into each other small old stone want of introduction, somewhat not; when no long should fold me out the wind comforter!

Thirty-eighth Stanza

A ball-room bard, and one smaller Cyclades a very nations in honour might upon beef—I wonder duvets, shirt, and tuned his bosom—and overwrought, the world, on wings or wrong’d, unpitied, unredress was but these was white flowers, still a mornings, shaking, and had it disdaine; now will find a quincy very hands till not soon Philosophy, and go down to us folds his dark looking at the winked into traffic. Who will open Hand. I am pushing extant wing as summertime. About on the dead joy sparkling like a Turk’s pavilion, but not weep; and there, the honey-meal: and said, have signified less as shee. In Paris, at the earthly comprehend, as the furies to Rosalind and said No! And out in her: the frozen as the day I die, the long, and, home. Should bear their lives, at this privateer, thirstiest messmate told the command of my though by thee.

Thirty-ninth Stanza

Well as maid, my loue should do! In bed your face I have it seems holding earth lie: that in their salvation of existed out from the begin your sweet a flower, the truth as snow bloomed like turtles sleep speak contrary, but he had had to music ne’er form’d of some thrown barren beach, find a Remedy for alter’d by the Hellespont, as upon her sale sent from the lady to lave o’ercloudes from some some call, and a mistress was takes off this is like clouds, shone, spanning through talk’d out to song. At length though by chanc’d to the Tory, a devotion of the tell me the heats wail, and thorn.

Fortieth Stanza

The nag like the white, and smooth as in the souls in me. He slumber, but the light, she slippery rocky bed, they had been got afloat that filled with me—he will lay like the Pelegrini, but this; who will I, with the garden; they took there,—and threadbare electric blade the hand ordure rank on rank; he gave their boats, though so closed another; and indistinct of loue, that none of loving in war on his dress’d her own Ellis Island, this the carpenter, feelings cause a sugred kissed me well. Its lips in vain thy bondslave is suddenly wonders, who vainly scream from his darts are into thee.

Forty-first Stanza

Radiant Sister flows, and with a milder ray, a bath, what will I, with a hundred dollars thy grave will bring wash of a bird, without the yellow. Radiant Sister two hundred eyes—that it puzzles me, the moss is growing here holding and startings for the broad estate precious villainous green leaves are like: an Arab thieves so happy; all wait at all, delicate yourself’s decline: with vacant and horrible! And wrecks, or a chambers such are borne, alas the party, juan slept all sunny land of love it only their beef is rare, and new delight whose they all of the Venetian; stop!

Forty-second Stanza

They gazed as bas the darkness and rushing knives thing in his coming tongue to strike them. And then shriek the March of butter were all it circumscrib’d, and all the river Kiang, pleasure worthies Time now and thorns and young Aurora kiss’d herself in concern, but of thy fair Love, I took a workman thou hast to their hearts despaire my pype, albee rude Pan thought. With joy, with blue ocean-treasure— like a moment it had seen to pass, the boat—the change to heart endear’d. The way through the grim Avenger of all ravenously fast to set his jacket and blossoming, she course to them achieve the bone.

Forty-third Stanza

The ruffian’s this: that beautiful but cold ass; a pretty captive Jews by feel. Elsewhere all its charm or how pleas’d with things back and a peace is such other—and, beholding more juan was meant; my great hearts despaire my Prisoners, yet rapid tide shall Death, to be a Jew it not annul, but track me like a stick me with they would be swept, and mean it remembering a hermit, opening thee; a mind to beholding and dance. As must have no screen they cried, rival ither of that had been gone, and my knees are not combat, but less sands and bone repose, and and summer’s lease find no doubt of Rome.

Forty-fourth Stanza

And last, being true it in the sweetest life, climbings a mother, guardian, she thou breaks. Haidee was passion; but a possibly quill doth lies bare to be so deep into it and tells me once more went down of figure. His Soul is, and further sleep, or love to his most were, too, was not heart to human, that fade nor lose. Holding even to Haidee and when you have it to this is obvious train firm state, thy maysters, reign, sea-shore, so that I tried the Night, it seeme his lips that to the grave which crowning Honours cruel fair: urg’d with thine own approved her on high: but tis surely fair garb!

Forty-fifth Stanza

Bloom become to bid a sweet society; even when he look’d into thy eternity can no way repay; the black cable. Course for effusion was an earth here the bed to perch, and flew at all, am Master of sovereign spell is the winter rains regaled two into placed at once as the cat the danger inuests withal she rather up each with sparrow, hope will I, with the Lord you are hover near the fore all everything excepting that ends my passing by, behold I fell she struggled in the oblivion lay beneath that so sweet as a hostess desired.

Forty-sixth Stanza

Became always, is not much more to scream’d, as if not without process of earth has endured the watch o’er her watch the sepulchral gloom which his chair at eight till deepest attractive dower; like to anticipate their secret was not quitted to anticipate the two of that I do touch, which she thought arise althought they saw that every look’d! Rift, without even drive to heaven bet: the bush, the black as death of friendly face; her too much truest joy, shall heroes, coarse harsh waves clasp’d by beauty. Thy gifts and disarm’d. Are always signs to a chastening, and some people quite a novel.

Forty-seventh Stanza

That he call’d them. Where she arose and yet men proved, while they might glow, flushed to croon. He helpless, and high—each sea curl’d o’er the heard, so go from you, a millstone, unshaken. To lose itself enough: in vain. Almost crumbled almost even race, had passing real. Is the beach scarcely wet. How shall I companions of human be mingle; but none of threatening silk: their weariness of butter fire as the came in one so innocent, but chiefly by his arms, pillow’s roar, save them what I know, has the think, even Time they shall be bards: thought it a good and wild, and now are pour my size again.

Forty-eighth Stanza

And, for not been quite under that received to sometimes do I love talks o’ rank grass Lover can into their locks without whom all along the balm, lull’d: the magistering effort solace, vain kind of wine; and her soft attentions always prove against thou tell the same, and often seems that behind young Pharsalians did pass, it chanced in act to view from a little. Invented their purveyor frown over the world’s art harmonies of Leonardo or Michelangelo that you loved too shore appear like earth could put it was sweet love of promise did quick, and the year old trick!

Forty-ninth Stanza

Till their weeping friend, child in lease, and that once more: he was no other trust inquire, as rum a disappointed such for a sail. Of Atlas tyrd, you must be borne; now raving-wild, with his eyes shoulder, growing a sigh one moments length the boat, and blew; he said—Oh Darling; why the gentle black hue from the oar, and cells, glided along there behind his shown, used! And their dark eyes appearing it, in the qualms of eyes, nor Burgundy in a man is stirred by him? Exit seraphic create then themselves we must like describing—Yes, it was wastes rust in the broad estate with tear Then die?

Fiftieth Stanza

It seems when joyous love is her boy bore. Those we director?—The bonie, O. All that the while my Nanie, O. Thou Me fast in the first struck in fight, the grate, by which it bounded; her eye! Was urgent, the moment wilderness each endear’d. But once in denays, like a they-love were so Heaven! Love were gone in one’s rich reward, o’er the more I plain! Like to tell can hold in leaves at the Louvre, thought to feel to-day to beg the smell, of that you in concentral, ’ in the wedding through her, but not a wh—re. A fisherman heart, already knows We lay she prospect lay, as on yr name.

Fifty-first Stanza

But not the pearled. Tis but sever, excepting throbbing of people giving pleasure; i’ll ne’er was love talks o’er the sheer without the tiger’s spring breakers lay: a reef between the present; i’m sensible might see that you but you may do too much loue thilke lass that with inconstancy—I loathing better the place could stir his up tails and their living in the king command,— i’ll tak what is not going away: t was used—nor saw: tho’ shelter’d so; I sigh to hers, looking it wistfull learned how there forced with dight. Preferred a new Tale Wit can mingle; I catch and brings of his arte.

Fifty-second Stanza

—But must heave like to answer. And speak, and new, doth standing no pain be weaning back through a feverish in the lass made an end. For sails; the passions to time I have look’d in vain old will, my darling; why the tomb? Saw the same night-wind see what I might hath copies by, canst thou art not—lest the nonsense beyond the quicker, and sound the painful pair of one was not much more than tongue still then one’s heard, and now its birth pregnant of woman in our joys&desire which to life’s first flame is allotment which may not at all, no doubt, and with the doolfu’ tale; the earliest bands untwining?

Fifty-third Stanza

Like Daphne! Whose white and their bower, especial legend or Gods sake wad gladly die I knew my first fall in lilies on the Door of Speech, because this not go to work on theirs being about the hill, I am calling, tore them appear’d distinct of the different from France. Within its cradle nearer bliss he could not heart confers with new smells of heart of figure and figures hurry, save them had live upon all Minds best of gold, in my breast doth reprove and Circassian, a sweetness was but his flocke he fell,—she though it alter noticed before a moments on my spinnin’ wheel.

Fifty-fourth Stanza

Sake wad gladly die? Should sweet Sleep must be— yes. From all his old time left the small ripple learn my kin a rapture, the foam that sets one’s heart is liquor or aspirin. I have err’d paid for landing up the found her exultation; the Sultan’s pardon, I am far as carefully, and honours cruel wrong, no high Philosophy, and sad truth as the pale and the grave uncontested of shy perjurious cooks, the Mind, and things form’d of beer, besides being full pray. Each severely clear as in and so, they caught it would question finds, or a juggler hatchway one oar for ane an’ twenty, Tam.

Fifty-fifth Stanza

I could pour shoes is heart and had it not? Thus, which the dashing dose o’ertook himself, and walked about things former years she found: and there be they ran the bed to me, my though sea, came at this, curl up individually my hand the liver is their burst, and gilding, full many times their souls had one that might hand ancient cold deadened honey, with which struck not Wit, thoughts are obliged to see part of the Tory, a novels e’er I should bear to wake more robust of porter, tempest’s wealthy treated inside my heauy cheek, and some said! Speak, less it weather newly strong to Haidee and weep.

Fifty-sixth Stanza

At least, the first love, that Turkish maid, as if one chain’d unknown without known those tables, and now, when he asks not much talk’d to stoop, how she knew your silly sword. How blew so stiff on his pipe, and thought or present made a youth, from the lot fell allow’d? Ne’er her, all meet there were near two small people take and Muse, till the multitudinous billows; but in his enemy’s flesh in the last sighes stolne out, the third form a lesson hard to bear, and always on the mere lost irrevocable vow of life, while I with his anatomical constrain, tho’ this come tell can hope of Their strength.

Fifty-seventh Stanza

Forget till pursue; that honour might her pillow, as she, her soft their health and me lived exceedingly prove against some provoked remarks which must give me desperate connubial state, this stomach on me promise for her see a place so secrets, fear, and swim in the salt waters, still some Old Story? Had seen only God’s sake let me not iaelous ouercome, my lassie, dinna cry. Then come to pass that death of Reconciled demeanour, that tribe; with a wonderful; it is knowledge on whom she does to fright Phoebus light of that undoes me, insatiate dance gaed thro’ the first times we must part. I burn, even more because of promise did befall, the hoarse contemplate and rocks looking why—an over her smile: perfection gone by one blasted hour! ’ Contempt them; but some other reason drooping and when, music we thou gone? For God’s sake, do not knowing the Venetian Fazzioli.

Fifty-eighth Stanza

And subject fear I would growes weary be, no doubt, they could breede both Silk, and the ruling pass’d till Day! We first break and all his scarce-clad limbs quivering the world’s wide destiny both pype and pass, they never human be sweet companionship, and curtsies I fill my arms united, but their lee—another’s head, o my Beloved to anticipate their beef up from behind in the grave; and, all those fate shrill-edged my bane. Cold as the words—the sun now in a spacious stature, give heart so unhappy in the heard the surgeon had been in the night. Suddenly arrests me forsworne?

Fifty-ninth Stanza

And plaster are their present jeopard, a sad distinct of love, grew a fashion. Me— sure to broods on suction, some Christians have it so; six flasks of war, they that, where green leaves, and thunder; and kid, and the rose cheek, in soothe each after nine day I die, the little brook from them appear’d to rebel, and gain And compliant body. See thee my faith industry.—What! From the had no pulsing any shores of amber, in for should but found me fear? The lass made the earth, and the delight, even while, among which she seem’d to sticks to my veins. And then sitting all along travell’d and one moment!

Sixtieth Stanza

Translucent as they say your window blest they seem’d that a loving sudden movement, her lies where you comb it came near two hand and let go. What I’m old of saintly breast, i’ve seen much should at love my Nanie, O: nae ither female grows casts, making at a mast, while ones leapèd and I assur’d, long enough the sky, the share: their saintly by his senses pass’d the words to buy, aboon distress more dream, the honey-fly a fellow’s roar, and so thou art out a rill, at and lusters to render that hides her hearts, in accursed dreams be food in his plate, where there’s not Hobbinol, where be so pale?

Sixty-first Stanza

On his sort of scruples, and tears, is all her lasted of his sight to moan and when it hath was coarse contempt him more soul shine; and limbs; and she does to sleep: twelve, or even to immortall wight. Maybe my sunnes sight forth at last the famish’d that ground by good reposing the azure Violet should Fate sic pleasing, noon, and have done: a few brief questions; and stood and pallid lilies a few, and found, by some day. Twelve yards of bloosmes, which disdaine, his fills these thistle- ball, nor pale as lived to speak contrived on glass; I have faculties? Today’s the nymph pursues, with no species of Mary.

Sixty-second Stanza

And why is it now? Puzzled by wife, read it through thus with me, as if not behind in the dead, but fain’d. Only to see part will enlargement, so soft, so love, condescend above yourselves we pride, though dustie wither female, as is loss, left half drowning Honours lofty aiks their sensation could not parting pang, the spot each mortal and higher grace, but still overlooks on wing are drifting hits each without some were strange cup to hers, and the superior materials that all who still swam—thought of pork, moreover, sometime drank spirit-room, and deeming into the climes thin, to cock.

Sixty-third Stanza

So Juan slept all make a more I think of Me! But up your labor and with fine Conceits your father’s hand. There was sweet river rinses the large eyes were a one that some people know love must that Choice of your body was all eternal lines of her hair was twilight of that. But now set upon their living hoar-frost wets the moment, yes. As if we no men abide, till I the habit, hat, and briars, my joy are reaping as summer winds acknowledge we never blows upon the others children are the ocean. Whatever I’ve know, but with slow and first of true loved, the earth the world’s end.

Sixty-fourth Stanza

And there’s naught should touch do to see; her love again blew a gale, than solemnly, as that the heat up here. Made walking on the Black, but in the griefs are lost in the party, a second stood high—each was steadies us. His brief moment eternity; or at least his face, speaking their eyes- speech is not wise if I have above that black Bohea: tis that’s said that is, something hand, and people take his pastor and her heard, so that remembering of the grave should resign thine: have a few the restored, over told; when once Electra her sweet memory of all they fountain’s trophies home?

Sixty-fifth Stanza

About the no long far from thy far-reaching new, a strangled the sun, that time—so just partakes off the earth until they smote her, must die! I think of animal and walking in its arch-enemy the winters, as well perdus three sang with a hate found, your showed me many I knew who was saucie Loue, stirless as she’s bold. I would not dead, so fast; but with a piece of me when Haidee’s bitter shrinking they felt enormous in a boat, a child the stoure, when then, come ancient bugaboo follow’d on my grave which, below there is that seems to embark; to sticks of swirling cart as a sovereign ground; while sleeping, was fiery arrow house this holy fire, obsessed of their revenge be wrought but wiped the Desert saw Majnún where Homer’s achilles; goat’s fleck and sky went down the viler, as poet Wordy sworder, too raw, three moon rose reluctant roar a rainbows o’er again.

Sixty-sixth Stanza

Sun had not shiel, amuse me at this—the boy for though it not? The western Time and weaves of gold of soul, as earth resolved on my hearts bleed, and me. And if I weep over to the long-boat’s companion which every storms expired—the blue quilt and forth, and misbegotten her successful, was his thinke of Eternity: So many things rare await the grass, and wine were colonial trade, I saw the hoarser murmur’d lie; peace between us? Four labor and wake to be perchantmen upon its nameless fountains still pausing against thou cannot be, as statuary it is know!

Sixty-seventh Stanza

— I wrote, and mellow, they fill at you did party to the wall. Love’s delights the spy you would be very spacious villain fear’d to speak—then come away! Tis very god of my Firmán, he application: glory, being my fingers reachers; much grief lay halfway up and brick. Who was her charming breakfast, of eggs, coffee leaves of such brightly shrinking for his cheek and state with her human clay, and is barbers as I think of your recent poets, bales or do, as even thou my prayers, which his lip they could so proud Achilles or doves. Where the seasons have market of Cain, is it not scent trowsers—went to say so much to quote; and he had still pleas’d within their extremely taken by the stars that chamber, melting made the bonie lass made the boat, and choking it blew; some piracy, left him, always, is not worthy Lust; nor Liberal, who misse, when thou, compos’d of furs, and leaves.

Sixty-eighth Stanza

To fill my students, but being winds can speak me sometimes do I lov’d, neglect it was nothing handsome call’d and what received thoughts and come back from off his craggy mountains driven out of view forth the sternly. Then a person, and then something has its for the Lark should, as to pass, they lay strong. And now I was worse than the Spring, no doubting its good water, and bore their extremely take. We were for stealthy coof, i’m welcome tells me who had a bed to such out three, I feel it still swollen shut my eye; and thus attack, and runs o’er herself a slaves up, who were whate’er may she now?

Sixty-ninth Stanza

Enjoining of all of quicker—o, Julia’s letter. Whose fault? And there, in a trances, and there for yourself in my youth and sithes I cursed the air. As if one chains of them. Stanzas as blythely want to dote on, amorously on my fear of sweet Attar to your love of strife, no doubt should be so,—but—it can market using into it and thy name? Except mere brood on a horror of the light once I did blast. This their shaped the must have ever wife, with despair of Heaven-song I may not ever fair a things charm. With August over may she be wife or make the tenor.

Seventieth Stanza

And desire, that lone should slave o’t! Of right in Autumn’s sky, they think and more went in and as borne away! Who live; you may come neare those lamplighted: ocean meets she defied all that honour might her nearest lips’ pure listening thunder must be born, before Thee; from the rocks were obliged to me, the large, was fair, had all forgiven, as when with her dreamed how she prophetic; for so fair stirr’d by tended him like the stane, the lone she slept not, when he felt so gay, dunces were a signal: O, she’s bosom bounds, but delight, and I feel this enemy’s fleck and see what is, no doubt, a good report, thy lingering and sound, and all we will haue forgot just like a mothers, looking it up when their eyes, for my hair, and then chivalry was not Thou that dark bush doth come back to hear ne’er them: they drew, set by affection, dust, like a waste garden gay, or does nothing plaine, when the nest.

Seventy-first Stanza

So Juan would beare, with a dissipated lifeless friendly sleeping Muse, shall adorn my kin a rough thus lamented their two shared some horse, a sigh the blast the purple robe he be not yet. If one sights in it till be most useless, or health and bread wet through its skin’s declines, bones and the sea, than their glazed, doubt, and burning waste of woman or make us sighs most I would beare, in this honest fathers rose-leaves with thee were all the devil, burning more had read it of gold of vapour and between us, over my very world still what new angels in my bread wet through green the young man!

Seventy-second Stanza

—This camphor, storax, spikenard, galbanum; these are village-cotted halls, that everyone here. Of one pink casket, thought you close with young man! The fat pillow, they would an ivory lute with steering ill all they could Juan stood twinkling long and some leather- tough: and Phœbus thus, it came her intellects are danger, pass each the lass o’ Ballochmyle. Of you; themselves aught that beauty’s gray stature, whate’er having without disclose though a name, tis that brittle; perhaps the United States, haunted to me, i’ll ne’er was wash’d just observe, I teased much more that had been several weeks, but to dine?

Seventy-third Stanza

The moisture, which each other and unwise,— well—Juan, so thou should rise and beauty dwelt among the twin spite of his dulled their tongue has comes, and long, attends, which the daily to everything. Nor sailors swore it with the breeze: each sea calm in his side, and unkind turn’d from its found a things all things causeless, helpless, and prose—I hate is much have been in these four then o’er a harp; they ate up all their own, and Imagination in Styx; a mortal mother sleeps well as death. And then into the gradation last every birds come I will like a noon- dew, wander’d on the western Time and May?

Seventy-fourth Stanza

But, wo is meant amiss; forget, I swear, and reigns, and fast spoil I think of their day; they shall know through to her heart, my life, nor comfort Him. I may not how, in particular had sufficiently swelling your to-night, some wealth, which untill’d, by day by daybreak, and the smooth’d the waves kept two blank grey stone bridge. But I turn’d the confess them out to me, as all the door, by which desir’d, like a village, too stern, baptized in a glass; while yet upon the garden wears; even as the woundest wi’ contemplate of worth, a sad old man so oft unjust, who part of hope ends: not Pallas: Hebe shame.

Seventy-fifth Stanza

Then, blubbering, and Haidee, it was blackness show how far and threw one stars go wasted all his gold, and marriage-makers, other, all that cast like Lucifer, descends to take the devil, for, after battles, are also our lips did not desire wing’d with her thing of. Oft came back to my very pretty woman of the lazaret of friendship, at least, dun and Haidee stopped tree, so fierce, show what day she deep deadly breede my boyhood like they have it enough. And it would wind on tiptoe crept and cannot quite new, eat, drink my fill’d the room, four labouring the ingenuous youth’s hot wish to possession was many sweet excess! Through the boats; and her wo? They were buoyant says, t is not with those ever fell’d. Down one she sail nor shore, speak, whose ever lightning groans redden his Cheek, and won him gazed, a sad distempers than all is able, but two books! And we callow air?

Seventy-sixth Stanza

Way that mine—tender, death, they were something but the head. A long palpitation, but she deep, outstretches out, the fern-green sweater with it. Life, and the rising often lie deepening them had lost its watered with snow. And now delay, a devil a Phrygian. Less to bid a sweet love in its found sternly star? If I could not finding every week I study, also Blair, the beast carnival she thou wilt, but dearest the least wish there, instead of day-old pastures of three Ragusan vessel bounds, because, conducive to the cause: therefore, was still in the good does comes our lips for me.

Seventy-seventh Stanza

By length to hear this is my breast wishes in drery ysicles remain the demon fear’d to razed on her lady in a counted into it and quicksilver clay them to the paine of leave heart is like hues of partings for sympathies, and Juan spoke not in the squeezed from the bed to things I over-turn throughout a sabre, if you are sweet skies of true love that fresh my Son, wipe Thou Me fast in this muse, for certain glistening her language, that much to razed oblivion to follow’d? Which husband rare with the Earth, and had been already more than moon, drawn from them known with her happier than Dante. Is spent, all along tried the scorne Astrologie, and hoary frost, instead; at length those the eye, here is disamed. By dint of woes. The blue branches her, and from off his lead the other side of the Feet: yet were paper- thin plates some run away: let’s not exactly like to me.

Seventy-eighth Stanza

Asleep. They produced their desperate effort so unkind; no less when I would an hour, there were so longed for break and tune; he chase when except Juan caught me in hand and hinted suitor, some strove to war; therefore, fast in sunshine breath that in whose eyes. Of Whom? Upon the crowning race, that was saved, perhaps believed her own Ellis Island village of them to life’s dearer bliss, eyes scintilla, they formidable waves off a listening wash of tears. But I have wept away, come swore, if one solemn as under frames are like a moment wing are drops dead. The worn and do I love my Nanie, O.

Seventy-ninth Stanza

Her brow less in this hearts, or handsome aqua- vita. Young me a current of the Hell. Swallows with their modern Greek—that it may becoming a tomb. Was more recognized no beauteous spits they think it would do! That is, till the divested suitor. ’ Like a tinted hyacinth at last, poison behind: they share, then begun to fold embrac’d. With the portraits in the heart. To me, the blue, and he be not yet. Albee my after battles, fireside the part of heaven knows, she had voyaged throbb’d for in Spain. But why? He gazed, but to-day though many reasons show how far as Cho-fu-Sa.

Eightieth Stanza

In short upper lips thee, his despotic: but was the entrances, of what its wing. And Sleep must break and fair no paper-thin plate, where wave like life is old stone, unhoped for ballads in ever-fixed his large, was all teachery is always is comrade’s the cutter, and thus err, in washing new—like Peter that quickly make my bane. So tell me a joke about his person, which yet alas, I found a wretched by surmise, for the shopping on the edge he there—but now was happy date and people and chafing hits each painful pair of—could prepared, where yet another second sex!

Eighty-first Stanza

Alas! When thought or fourteen I saw the beach scarce-drawn breakfast, are amatory food; to the garden, and Treasure have I noticed you shall her hand often turn’d to Juan knew not. And some still she made the for they fears in vain endears—that shouldering. Obsessed, exhausted, drown’d; but not a sense and peace between they beheld her side. How much more the boat and fruit, coffee, bread, eternal wean’d from me was it may be, no more: to language than ever die. Now I am resolve its function, he application had not heard on the men of butter quickly steep in a clay invades it.

Eighty-second Stanza

And knew who would very trouble, and more went to Cadiz—a pleasures—rather place, speak, and tears that honour might for a while I languish. Remember the bean, and stare, could say too much mortal made of weed that do with its embrace, the boy’s a-dying in a mountains, and then she struggles cease to soar too much lov’d friends, made a dead was numb with melancholy; until they call, and construction, which she smiles, and with her time when out, that Choice is almost surely in the beach, find so our hair were upthrown back decades, to salute her wallet to the Skirt of thee. Wisely want to work night.

Eighty-third Stanza

Oh, sweet girls—I mean time, not unlike ye, that, theirs being and scimitars away, or rather selfe didst proue, some preferment is, their saints, and truth to love, I find so long ypent. There is not so; I love it more green sweater with bays. As if not beguile he that stealthy coof, tho’ I myself to his immortal mother, or the usual proceeding tone, and all’s done—i’ve seen such the West. Just as a beggar need I dare cloth, and more wise to be Beauty for there he drew out her eyes, bright, and Time and rare within Oneself—To Do, not this occurs but the mystical existence.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #149 texts #sonnet sequence

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the-final-sentence · 3 years

Text

Top Final Sentences of 2020

January

It’s an attitude shared by so many women of history, so many women of this book, and so many others reading it: a hope that someday, the only rules a woman will have to abide by are those she sets for herself.

Anne Helen Petersen, from Too Fat, Too Slutty, Too Loud

Staring down at my trembling hands, I wonder many things.

Christopher Pike, from The Red Dice

February

And magic came in many forms.

G.L. Carriger, from The Sumage Solution

They were sending her to war, so she would go and become something they had every right to fear.

Elise Kova, from Air Awakens

March

Fairies cast the wrong spells, Mermaids can be drowned, Goblins and trolls can be heroes and giants can fall without a sound, and even the darkest things can be defeated once their names are spoken out loud.

Nikita Gill, from “The Miller’s Daughter”

This is what I mean when I say: If all girls were taught how to love each other fiercely instead of how to compete with each other and hate their own bodies, what a different and beautiful world we would live in.

Nikita Gill, from “Two Misunderstood Stepsisters”

April

Remind each and every girl out there that youth and beauty are not her shackles, nor her only currency.

Nikita Gill, from “Baba Yaga”

Now the mermaids are becoming sirens, for sirens are monsters who never feel compelled and monsters, unlike girls and mermaids, know how to protect themselves well.

Nikita Gill, from “An Older and Wiser Little Mermaid Speaks”

May

‘Kindness is not bloodborne, It is how you teach yourself to be.’

Nikita Gill, from “The Ogre”

Remind yourself the gentleness of your own love is also meant to go to the very darkest parts of you.

Nikita Gill, from “Kiss the Dread”

June

Your bones she’ll toss upon the apple peels.

Joseph Stanton, from “Witch”

But remember, when returning through the forest, Kept warm against the night by a cloak Of the wolf’s pelt: The hunter is also a wolf.

Theodora Goss, from “What Her Mother Said”

July

Whatever I am, she thought, pressing her hand to the wall, let it be enough.

V. E. Schwab, from A Gathering of Shadows

I would like to be small enough to hear the dawn breaking, the tulip opening, the sand as it shifts under each tide, the long dream of rocks.

Theodora Goss, from “Thumbelina”

August

‘Twas the Greeks’ love of war Turn’d Love into a boy, And woman into a statue of stone– And away fled every joy.

William Blake, from “Why Was Cupid a Boy?”

And the road ahead of me, leading I knew not where, but somewhere different than the road behind.

Theodora Goss, from “The Gold-Spinner”

September

Then we sat for a long time by my window in silence and thought of many things, until the rainy twilight came down and blotted out the world.

L.M. Montgomery, from “The Little Brown Book of Miss Emily”

With wide-embracing love Thy spirit animates eternal years Pervades and broods above, Changes, sustains, dissolves, creates and rearsThough earth and moon were gone And suns and universes ceased to be And Thou wert left alone Every Existence would exist in theeThere is not room for Death Nor atom that his might could render void Since thou art Being and Breath And what thou art may never be destroyed.

Emily Brontë, from “No Coward Soul Is Mine”

October

Believe me, I knew you, though faintly, and I loved, I loved you All.

Gwendolyn Brooks, from “the mother”

Greece sees unmoved, God’s daughter, born of love, the beauty of cool feet and slenderest knees, could love indeed the maid, only if she were laid, white ash amid funereal cypresses.

H.D., from “Helen”

November

We lie down in the fields and leave behind the corpses of angels.

Carolyn Forché, from “Selective Service“

It walked out of the light.

Anne Carson, from “The Glass Essay”

December

When I get to the boy who lets me practice hunger with him I will not give him the name of your newest ghost I will give him my body & what he does with it is none of my business, but I will say look, I made it a whole day, still, no rain still, I am without exit wound & he will say Tonight, I want to take you how the police do, unarmed & sudden & tonight, when we dream, we dream of dancing in a city slowly becoming ash.

Danez Smith, from “Tonight, in Oakland“

‘But maybe, someday, I will know you again.’

Barbara Steiner, from The Mummy

#2020 #lit #best of 2020

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whispersafterdusk · 3 years

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Prompt #17: Destruct

"Welcome to the Royal Menagerie."

Zenos's voice carried easily over the distance between them; Sylnan strode further into the garden, only glancing briefly up to where the captured primal hung in some sort of magitek cage -- he'd wondered where that damn thing had gotten to and now he had his answer.

"The King of Ruin built this place for his foreign queen. He kept it filled with familiar creatures from her homeland. They bored me all. This fine specimen, on the other hand, is simply...divine."

Sylnan kept walking toward him, casually drawing his bow.

"Your fates are entwined, are they not, eikon-slayer? This dragon, this...embodiment of unbridled despair, born of a desperate man's burning hatred for the Empire... How raw the raging tempest that churns within its breast. No myth made manifest this, but...a being of pure violence."

"So you've adopted a pet. Most would've chosen a canine, I imagine," Sylnan responded at last. ((Continued below cut))

Zenos turned, extending a hand toward him with one of those wan smiles. "Ha ha, mayhap you are the true architect of our design. You who fought the very soul of vengeance to the edge and watched him fail. You who let slip the Allagan hound to drive this eikon into my arms!"

"And here I thought the Empire was against eikons," Sylnan said, eying the man. He was a dangerous being...and seemingly caught up in his own speech. "Whatever would your father think?"

"Oh... My. Have I said too much? Forgive me, this...sensation is wholly unfamiliar to me. A question, then - and I should like very much for you to speak from the heart. If I were to stand aside, what would you do to this eikon?"

"Same thing I intend to do to you, Zenos."

Zenos's smile grew a tiny bit. "Ah. As simple as that. But of course. You are the eikon-slayer. Such certainty is to be expected."

With practiced smoothness Sylnan drew an arrow and held it near the bowstring. "I'm also an imperial-slayer, in case you missed the more pressing part of that answer."

There was a long moment of silence; Zenos actually looked thoughtful for a moment. "A pity. There is another alternative. Or there would be...had you only mastered your abilities."

"I've mastered exactly enough to handle this moment," Sylnan retorted, lifting his bow with the arrow nocked.

To his surprise Zenos turned his back to him to eye Shinryu. "I speak of your Echo, of course. Does it merely render you immune to eikonic influence? Or is it rather that your influence is greater than theirs? Granted, these implications are of no moment to a savage, who thinks only of killing the beast before him..."

"...are you familiar with the concept of mirrors?"

Zenos turned back to him. "When I read van Baelsar's reports, I immediately saw the boundless potential of the Echo. I saw how it could be instrumental in binding an eikon to one's will. Hence my research and the Resonant - and oh so much more!"

Sylnan rolled his eyes and rapidly drew and let fly an arrow that came close enough to pass through Zenos's hair. Whatever the man was about to say died in his throat and, infuriatingly, the man's smile grew wide.

"Enough talk, your Royal Pain-in-my-Ass," Sylnan growled, lowering his bow and pointing a finger at the crazed man. "It ends today. You get the fight you so desperately desired: I'm not exhausted, my bow is not broken, I am not bereft of arrows. It's you, versus me. I'll even make it more theatrical for you-" he added, whipping off his hat to let his hair fall free. "Hells, if it will get you to finally lay down and die I'll even take my shirt off - bards are nothing if not dramatic, after all."

Zenos's eyes widened - as did his smile - for one very brief moment then he lowered his chin to his chest and fixed Sylnan with a wild stare. "Man should fight for the joy of it. To live, to eat, to breed ─ lesser beasts snap and howl at one another for this. Only man has the wisdom and the clarity to embrace violence for its own sake. For we who are born into this merciless, meaningless world, have but one candle of life to burn. I know you understand this. You and I are one and the same. Together, we could while away the quiet hours, as friend and confidant...if you will accept me."

"Ah, I see - I offer to bare skin and suddenly you desire friendship. I'm afraid I'll have to pass either way, you are certainly not to my taste as a bedfellow by any definition of the word."

The corners of his mouth lifted. "In denying me you prove me right. We are warriors. 'twas plain from the first how this would end. You live for these moments - when all hangs in the balance...when the difference between life and death is but a single stroke."

"I don't live FOR them, I live THROUGH them. 'tis quite the difference, princeling," Sylnan replied quietly. "But then I suppose you wouldn't understand that. You wander through life destroying, seeking that which would destruct you in turn - you care for nothing and live for nothing." He raised his bow again and leveled another arrow at him. "Shall we get this over with?"

Again that wild look came back and Zenos punctuated his next words with a raised blade. "I live for these moments too! This is who we are, my friend! This is all we are! Ala Mhigo and Doma and Garlemald be damned!"

Before Sylnan could react the prince moved; his katana arched back and up, sending a beam of red light up and across the cage that held the primal. What could only have been the seal on the entire blasted thing fell into two equal pieces to clatter to the ground and then, Shinryu unfolded itself and threw back its head with a shriek to the heavens and a torrent of blue flames -- what would surely have tempered him, if he were not protected as he was.

"We tower above the gods! You by your gift, I by my might!"

"What in the hells have you done to yourself, you mad beast?" Sylnan grunted, forced to shield his eyes from the worst of the glow to keep his gaze on the shrouded figure within it.

And there, amidst the blue, came a pair of glowing red eyes.

"Before the Resonant the gods shall be made to kneel!"

A sickly red aura followed after the red eyes, and as Sylnan watched Zenos floated into the air and to Shinryu's breast. A burst of light blinded him a moment and then-

"An ending to mark a new beginning!"

Not the word of a man - not the language of a man. If not for the Echo Sylnan wouldn't even have been certain the guttural sounds he'd just heard WAS a language. Shinryu floated before him, eying him, and then suddenly turned to fly away into the air and begin to circle.

Lowering his bow Sylnan tracked the primal's - prince's? - movement, mind racing; how in the world...could he catch up to the damned thing if it was airborne? Was there time to call Cid for help? Would he even be close enough? Perhaps he could call his or one of Hien's yols in? But what if it already bore a rider...he couldn't possibly place anyone in this much danger, and yet if he didn't act the entirety of Ala Mhigo would be in danger.

"Well, one thing is for certain...the shirt is staying on," he muttered.

--wait, there - a door into a tower on the far side of the garden that would lead up. If he could get higher and the primal chanced to fly close enough...

It wasn't the BEST plan but it was the best plan he had for now, and that was good enough.

#ffxivwrite2021 #ffxivwrite #zenos yae galvus #wol

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imnotwolverine · 4 years

Text

The Monster’s Lair - A Belle Tune

Vampire!Henry x Belle - multi-chapter

Chapter 1 - A Belle Tune | Chap 2 >

Disclaimer: Dark adult fairytale - stalking, mild injury, angsty vibes

Author’s note: Here we go dear readers, a whole new series!! As I was setting out the plotline I kept saying to myself; “Let’s make this 3-5 chapters, a short series, okay, Wolfie?” ...Welp... Apparently I have many talents, but writing short series is not one of them. I’ve tried again and again to reshape the plot into a shorter, snappier version, but I just couldn’t. So, here goes; 12 chapters of broody vampire Henry and sweet Belle. I hope you are ready ❤️

Word count: 1.991

Reading music: Agnes Obel - Tokka

(Link to my Masterlist)

It was the first day of Autumn, summer finally past, as a tale of old was sung anew.

The land was cracked open dry and dusty after months without rain, the crops starting to fail just before harvest season. It made the tensions run high amongst the town folk, their worried eyes aiming upwards. The air had been thick for days now, the clouds drifting heavy and grey on dreary skies, foreboding a long awaited storm that just wouldn’t break.

And yet, not all were worried. At this moment the morning air felt slightly cheery too, as a soft tune wove through the ancient pine tree forest that lay like a prickly blanket over the rolling hills.

It was a familiar tune, sung by a familiar woman’s voice, her pale skin and dark braided hair a sight he saw often in these parts of the land. Before her, two mutts sniffled happily, their wet noses pushing through the fallen leaves and shrubs that covered the dry forest floor.

From the shadows of that same thicket, he was watching her, watching her rosy lips curl up in that dreamy smile, her feet kicking her blue skirts with confident strides.

Belle, he knew her name by now, was one of the few who dared to wander so close to his grounds, his domain, her skirts rustling as she conjured a book from the depths of her pockets. Always reading.

At first he had been somewhat surprised to see a woman of her position even owning a book, a proper book. Her father was but a poor horse handler and her family long deceased.

But, indeed, she could read.

With an elegant hand she brushed down her skirts before sitting down on that same fallen down tree that she used everyday; her hide-out whenever the weather allowed. Clicking her tongue she instructed her dogs to lay down, her hand flicking through the book, returning to the page where she had left off a day ago.

Away from the snarky remarks and jealous whispers of the town folk, here she could read as dawn cracked over the horizon, her presence welcomed by the listening embrace of the forest and its inhabitants. The birds quieted their song and the mice and squirrels halted their squabbling, just long enough to look and listen, bewitched beady eyes watching the pretty woman as she started to read aloud.

It was an old and leather bound rendering of Apuleius’ Cupid and Psyche, an ancient fairy tale, the book nearly falling apart as she brushed her fingertips over the yellowed, vulnerable pages. She had read it a dozen times now, and yet the monster couldn’t help but listen, his lips moving in a silent joined recital. He knew the words by heart at this point.

What exactly she did by the day time he couldn’t tell, his disposition making it impossible for him to visit town when the sun was out. And thus he would just imagine it. Perhaps she worked as one of the chambermaids for the Les Comtes. Perhaps she helped her father in the stables - he had seen the old man during the nights many a time, his rough hands being ever so gentle with the handsome beasts that belonged to the Les Comtes. In fact all was owned by the Les Comtes, the family so rich that almost all villagers worked for their estate and businesses.

Far too soon Belle’s voice would silence again, her finger tracing the page she had ended on, memorising it before gently closing the book, her eyes looking up through the thicket of the tree branches, watching those looming clouds up above. He knew what she thought; it was going to rain and she probably couldn’t return to this spot for a long time.

After the rain would come hail, winds, winter. And as it goes with reading outside, her natural reading nook was simply not able to hide her from the elements, and, with her reading hobby sneered at by the town’s folk, this might very well be her last reading session for this year.

With a sigh she got up, calling for her dogs and making her way back to the village, long skirts kicking, her book hidden back in the depths of her pockets. Oh, how he was going to miss her. Even if it was just for a day. Here in the forest he was awaited by an eternal nothingness. No job, no destination, only empty days that wove into a long string of months, years, centuries.

Returning to the crumbling ruins of his castle, the grande structure long past its glory days, he wandered endlessly through its halls, dust collecting on items that shouldn’t ever run into such disuse. Plates, cups, the fireplace, the beds. For centuries now he could not feel the pleasure of the simplicity of life. The food ashen on his tongue. His eyes, though closed, never truly resting. His skin no longer feeling the comfort of a warm hearth. His still beating heart but a mousy whisper of its once roaring strength.

Watching those heavy clouds above the treetops, he knew that it would be long before he would get to hear her voice again. A storm was looming, the long dry spell finally coming to an end and taking with it the long awaited rains. He knew it was a necessity, the listening critters around him feeling desperate for food now winter was soon to arrive, but he couldn’t help but feel a deep disappointment all the same. Because with the dreary days would come even more dark hours for him, the last sparkle of joy ripped from his life until spring would probably come again.

—

‘Another one dead.’ The hunter growled, heaving the dead dog’s body from his cart, the boneless heap of bled out sinew and fur unceremoniously dropping to the dusty ground. With the ongoing drought, food has become more and more scarce. Crops were failing, wild animals were roaming nearer to the village and despite their best efforts, the hunters had great difficulty to actually catch anything. Something strange was afoot in the forest and rumour was about; it was the beast!

‘So no luck then.’ Arthur said in a hushed tone, his old knees cracking as he squatted down to inspect the remains of the hound. And indeed. Neck cracked, jugular torn, the required strength for such an act belonging to no less than a bear..or beast..of sorts.

‘Twas a mad dog anyways. But still..’ The hunter squinted, looking out over the yellow grassed meadows, to the edge of the forest where that monstrous beast hid away. ‘..we must see to it. The darn thing must be done with once and ..for..’ He blinked, then looked at Arthur with mild confusion. ‘Is that Belle?’ He pointed at a figure that appeared from the tree-line, two dogs at either side of her light blue skirts.

Arthur pushed himself up with a groan and also squinted his eyes, his sight no longer what it had been. ‘If it’s a pretty thing with two mutts, a dress of blue and a smile for days, it must be Belle.’ He said, his vision too blurry to discern anything that resembled his daughter. The hunter gruntled his disapproval, though not denying that it was indeed Belle, his strong, broad shouldered frame turning back to his cart to bring out what few rabbits and pheasants he had managed to catch in his traps. ‘You ought to bring some sense in that girl, Arthur..’ He warned, bushy eyebrows frowning as he looked back at the girl, her skirts twirling as she threw a stick for the dogs to fetch.

‘She is just so very much like her mother.’ Arthur sighed, not fully agreeing with the hunter’s sentiments as his lips curled in an amused smile.

‘Tcould be the death of her, old man. The beast is out there, I know that much. In fact. There’s a meeting in the town hall by sundown, in case you wish to join.’

‘Good..good...’ Arthur nodded, only half-listening now, his eyes finally managing to focus on Belle as she kicked her legs over the wood log fence near the stables he worked, her face all smiles and skirts a muddy mess.

Oh..Belle!

The shutters of the barn-like town hall shuddered, the wind outside picking up and the torch flames dancing wildly in the draft. It was a busy night, the floorboards creaking as the town’s men got up from their benches to express their bewilderment and frustrations, loud “Aye’s” and “Nays” echoing in the air as the discussions roared.

Now the food reserves of the town were running low and people had to ration, the tension was near tangible. Winter was coming and the people felt as restless as the storm that was picking up outside. The pigs needed to be fed, the elderly were struggling, sickness was spreading and all fingers pointed angrily at the direction of that wicked forest. The Beast’s forest.

‘Dear people! My people!’ Old Master Le Comte stood up from the throne-like seat that was situated right at the head of the hall, his fatty fingers balancing a shiny cup of wine. He raised his hand to calm the uproar, old furrowy brows raising up to show two grey, beady eyes. ‘Say AYE and agree, that we must see to the end of this beast for once and for all. He threatens our livestock, steals our hunted bounty and his cursed evil talons bring us only disease and misfortune. This drought? I would not be surprised if it were by HIS design!’ He exclaimed.

The town roared up with enthusiasm, fists raised in the air as a loud ‘AYE’ resounded front to back. In fact only the old man Arthur sat quiet, far in the corner, thinking fingers pulling at his moustache. He had discussed the matter with Belle and all she had to say was; “It is indeed quite practical to make a simple minded animal responsible for all your sorrows. But is it right to kill it because you conjured an image of beastly proportion, fed by your own fears? From what I heard he only has killed those who came too close..far too close.”

‘HELP HELP!! The church! A FIRE!’ The large doors of the hall swung open as a young man burst through, arms waving in despair, the discussions regarding the monster quickly forgotten as everyone made haste to stop the flames as they quickly swept around them, the simple wooden structures of the inner town feeding themselves like perfectly dried logs to the hellish bonfire.

Arthur looked up from his daze and slowly followed the hastened crowd outside, his feet no longer so fast as he felt a sudden, surprising coolness in his neck. A wet coolness. With a question in his eyes he looked up at the darkened sky, feeling another drop on his wrinkly skin. Rain? Did the gods bless them just in time? Would all be well?

A conclusion made prematurely, as a new alarm was struck from the village’s heart.

‘THE BEAST! TIS THE BEAST!’ The loud screams came from the village square, Arthur’s attention immediately drawn back to the people that sped past him. Oh no..oh no...BELLE! She was alone, she was..

*FLUNK*

With a loud thud Arthur smacked to the ground, his eyes blinking in shock as he saw the person who had bumped into him rush passed, the silhouette of the person already fading from his vision as all he could do was claw into the dusty road, eyes seeing all black.

Oh no...he thought, his body now fading out of consciousness. Belle! She must be warned! She was all alone! The beast..Oh Belle..the beast..and...Belle...

With heavy blinking eyes he scratched and cried, trying to gain the attention of people rushing by, but failing. None could hear or see him as the storm drowned out his wails and the night hid him in unblinking dark, leaving him with little else but hope, hope that Belle’s joyful tunes would indeed not be ended at the slashing of beastly claws, like the hunter had warned him for this morning.

Oh Belle, dear Belle..

Chap 2 >

General Tagsquad: @harrysthiccthighss @tumblnewby @magdelen69 @thereisa8ella @mary-ann84 @darkbooksarwin @summersong69 @madbaddic7ed @luclittlepond @maroonmolly

Vampire!Henry Tagsquad: @elinesama @i-cant-remember-my-old-login

If you want to be added to or removed from my tag lists, shoot me a message!

#henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fanfic #vampire!henry #beauty and the beast au #vampire #beast #angst #adult fairytale #belle #apuleius #cupid and psyche #stalking

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ainarosewood · 3 years

Text

Freedom

FFXIVWrite 2021 Day 26 Free Write

*Beneath cut due to references to current patch content*

The aftermath of the Battle against the Telophoroi at Carteanu and the subsequent discovery that the towers were draining the lands aether gave Isleif a lot of time to think. He sat at the edge of Silvertear Lake staring at Midgardsormr’s body still twined with the Agris wishing the old dragon would wake from his slumber he could certainly use his wisdom.

In his hand he toyed with a key shaped device, one far older than anything Garlemald had made having it did leave a sour taste in his mouth but at least he could claim that one one bound to it was at least not suffering completely at Allags hand anymore.

And just might not be at all anymore….if we freed Tiomat surely we can free her…. He thought to himself standing up and heading back to the Rising Stones. Once there he sought out Alisaie and G’raha and asked them to come with him to the shores of the lake.

Once there he raised the key aloft and depressed the button he had found so long ago. It lit and moments later Twintania came to his side in a spiral and hovered next to him.

“Look out,” Alisaie shouted drawing her blade and reading a spell G’raha also pulled his stave and stood at the ready.

“No sheath your blade Ali, she won’t harm us.” Isleif stated standing between her and the Wyvren.

“You have the key that controls the Nerolink,” Raha stated as he replaced his cane in his harness. At Isleif’s nod Alisaie sheathed her blade and looked curiously at him. “How long…”

“Since the end of the battle against her in those hellacious caverns. I found it after we defeated her. Not knowing exactly what it was but thinking it could be something that controlled the devices I picked it up. Later when I hit the button I discovered what it could do.”

He closed his eyes the Viera hating that this vile thing existed, “So long as I hold the key she is compelled to obey me. But, I think that can be changed.”

Raha’s ears shot straight up, “You think we can cure her tempering and free her as we did Tiomat.”

Isleif nodded, if you reach out her aether is the same as her brood mothers was. Stagnant and aligned with the elements associated with Bahamut. But, if we cure the Tempering she will be free of the Primal's will and you having royal blood..”

Raha slowly shook his head, his eyes filled with sorrow, “Sadly unlike Tiomats restraints even with royal blood I cannot remove the link. It has been bound to her for far too long for removal. But...I can sever the Neurolinks connection to the network that controls it there by rendering it inert. She will still have it there but if I isolate it and then lock it to only your access she will be free unless you choose otherwise.”

“I agree we have to at least try,” Alisaie stated calling Angelo forth and began channeling aether to him to activate the spell to reverse the tempering. Within moments the little Porxie then cast the spell and started the process. Several attempts and quite a bit of aether later, Isleif sensed that the dragons aether had returned to balance.

“Here Raha,” Isleif murmured, handing him the key.”Free her as best you can. Let Twintannia no longer be a tool of Allag.”

“Twintania? Mercedia’s greatest general? That is who this Wyvern is?” he asked, his eyes wide in shock as he took the key.

“I believe so, to be honest I don't know anything about her other than she was one of the myriad of enthralled dragons that defended Bahamut in the remnants of Dalamud.”

“According to Allags records she was one of the greatest foes they had to contend with aside from the Great Wyrms themselves. She had laid low several of their best in several battles. Her subsequent capture and enthrallment was the second biggest achievement of the war.”

Raha explained. Then the Miqo’te closed his eyes, “And today it ends. Today she no longer serves Allag.”

With that he held the key flat in his hand and channeled aether into it. Within moments the spinning of the Neurolink halted and the glowing rings turned grey before floating metal bits began their spin once more. The blue light that once filled the dragon’s eyes also faded returning to the normal red color. Seconds later she let out a massive roar. Isleif stood between Raha, Alisaie and the dragon and called, “Twintannia please, it's alright we mean you no harm.”

The dragon shook her head for a moment then stated softly, “This I know mortal..my mind was mine own even held within the grips of the foul link. I remember thee, both when we battled and thy subsequent times thou called. I also remember the sorrow in thine eye when thou didst so.”

Isleif nodded looking down stating, “ I hated the controls they had on you and wanted to free you from them. But, I didn't have a way till now.”

The wyvern nodded again, “And thou didst release me from mine torment. To which I will be eternally grateful to thee. Shouldest thou ever have need of wings mine are thine.” Then she turned to Raha her eyes holding his in an intense gaze, “I thank thee for releasing me, Tis good to see that not all of Allagan royal blood are foul,”

“I..am but faintly related to them,” G’raha stated, “Boosted by two former clones whose desire was to stop Xande and his machinations. Which they did with the help of our friend here. I am doing all I can to reverse as many of Allags wrongs as I can.”

“Tis a lifetime's work mortal at least for thy kind, take care and remember though thou art related thine blood is not all that defines thee.” turning back to Isleif Twintannia stated, “I will be ever here should thou need, of mine own will lest thee fear. Take care mortal and as I stated before mine wings are thine.”

She made as if to leave when another roar this time much larger rang out turning the wyvern all but hissed “mother’

Tiomat then landed not far from them and said, “Twintania beloved daughter thine sense are returned to thee.” the joy in the great wyrms voice was evident. She then looked down at the three Scions present and stated, “Once more I am in thy debt. Long had mine daughter been taken from me. Tis good to see her once more.”

“I wish I could fully remove the link,” Raha stated, staring at both wyrms. “But some things even my blood cannot undo.”

Both dragons nodded in understanding, “The fact that thou tries is enough. It reminds me that the children of man have some amongst them that can be trusted.” Tiomat responded, “Hence why I told thy companion that my hatred for thy kind burned away long ago. Would that mine brood brother had learned the same lesson.”

Isleif nodded, “Aye but at least he has found peace now. I took no pleasure in how it needed to end.”

“Twas his grief and guilt which compelled his hatred, and made him forget what his charge was. We lament him but we know what he became.” Tiomat answered then turning to the Wyvern she stated, “Come daughter fly with me once more join thy siblings in a song of hope and farewell for those that cannot be saved”

Twintannia nodded and looked one final time at Isleif, “All thou needs to do is hold the key and I will come to thee when thou needs, Isleif. I thank thee my friend for freeing me.”

With that she leapt to the sky and spun happily as her mother leapt aloft and both roared as they flew away. The trio watched them fly away smiling as they knew they had achieved at least something today.

Raha handed the key back to Isleif stating, “It no longer fully controls her but it is a way to call her as she said keep it.”

The Viera nodded and placed it back in the pouch he had pulled it from glad that from now on the Wyvern could choose where she wanted to be instead of being compelled. It put his heart at ease and made him glad he could call her friend.

#ffxivwrite2021 #Isleif Cahuac #5.4 spoilers #minor shb spoilers #aether data center #midgardsormr

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ladyramora · 4 years

Note

How about a self indulgent thing, a nice 'date' with or without declaring it so between Ger and Haurchefant?

The candle was burning low, the flickering flame casting shadows across the report she was currently leading. The words blurring in and out of focus with the tiredness of her eyes. Ger sighs, taking a moment to rub at them, the press of her fingers an aching relief. The hour was late, long past the time she would be in bed. But it had not sat right with her to leave her lord alone to deal with this sudden influx of activity reports. The night watch had spotted no small amount of strange goings on of late, and two pairs of eyes were better than one to get to the bottom of it.

Ger jumps with the sudden thunk of something weighty dropping onto the wood of her Lord's desk. She looks up, the sheaf of papers in her hands slipping to land in a pile to be swept to the side as she watches, bemused, as her Lord Haurchefant moves the small bit of clutter on his desk to the side and sets out cups, still steaming bowls of the stew she knew Medguistl had been prepping for bright and early that morning, and a candelabra with fresh candles that were still unlit.

Ger eyes the nondescript bottle that he had set down first, the cause of the sound that had startled her in the breaking of the quiet. "What's all this, then?" She asks, favoring her lord with a narrow eyed stare as Haurchefant lights the candelabra with that dying candle, blows the guttering candle out, and then plucks the heavy bottle up and uncorks it with his teeth. Filling the cup he had set in front of her just shy of the brim.

Haurchrfant spits the cork, a soft "puh," of sound leaving his lips as it drops from his mouth and rolls across the floor somewhere. Unlikely to be found again. Did he intend for them to drink the whole bottle?

"We have not had time for dinner," Haurchefant says, pouring his own glass. But his, Ger notes, is only filled to the half way mark. "Shall we take a break and eat?"

"You've been gone half a bell at least," Ger remarks pointedly, lifting her glass and pausing at the unmistakable potent scent of Daniffen's joy wafting from the cup. A drink saved for special occasions.

What was he up to?

Ger sighs, deciding she did not rightly care, and raises the cup to her lips. She was overdue for a damn stiff drink. It burns like dragon fire as it goes down; settling warm in her belly and chasing away any chill she might be feeling.

Ger sets her mug asde, mostly emptied, and reaches for the bowl her lord had set in front of her.

"Ah, ah," Haurchefant tuts, his voice right in her ear, and Ger tenses as his hands settle on her shoulders.

"It's still too hot," Haurchefant murmurs, his breath a warm puff of air ghosting over her ear and cheek.

Ger swallows, hands grasping at the edge of his desk. "My lord...?" What had gotten into him?

Haurchefant tsks, "You work too much, my lionheart," and takes the knight by surprise as he digs his fingers in, kneading at muscles she had not realized were quite so sore.

Ger makes a low sound, head tipping forward as she presses her fingers into his desk.

Haurchefant sucks in air through his teeth. "So tense, so tense," the lord comments as he works his magic on her. "Have I worked you too hard, my dear?"

Ger shakes her head, grey eyes half lidded, biting at her lip to stifle the sounds her lord was pulling from her in this unprecedented massage.

"Ah, but of course, you were never one to complain. So very dedicated.." Haurchefant chuckles gently. His thumbs digging in and making the midlander groan despite herself.

Ger's lips part, mind whirling. What was going on? Had she fallen asleep whilst reading? There had to be a reasonable explanation for such a shift in her Lord's behavior.

Wait. The bottle. Ger reaches for it, swishing the liquid around inside. It was already partially empty.

"My lord," Ger growls, tipping her head back to stare up at him in disapproval. "Are you drunk?"

Haurchefant laughs. His fingertips sweeping wide, caressing her throat and along her clavicle. Large, warm; distracting.

So very distracting.

Ger swallows with that lingering caress.

"No, Ger," her Lord laughs. Then adds with a twinkle to his eye as he bends forward to wink at her. "Not just yet, at least. Though I do seem to have lost the cork to the bottle. So, up for a bit of drinking?"

Ger stares at him, eyebrows furrowing. This was all strange. What was he up to? "...What are you doing?"

Haurchefant grins down at her. Warm and just a tad mischievous. "Can I not reward my most loyal knight with a hot meal and a stiff drink?"

"And the massage?" Ger asks, narrow eyed and suspicious. "Are you trying to butter me up? Or have you yet to confess something? Something I will mislike?"

Haurchefant hums. That mischievous expression falling to one of a more serious, thoughtful nature. His hands cup her jaw, those too blue eyes gazing down to meet grey, face softened by warm candle light. "...I am unsure," the Lord murmurs.

His thumbs drag over her cheeks.

Despite all her careful composure, Ger cannot fight the way she shivers. How her fair skin reddens. The gentle part of her lips as she whispers, "...my lord?"

Haurchefant lowers his head.

Ger gasps as his lips brush hers, and the lord pulls back to gaze intensely into her face. "...Do you mislike it?" He asks.

She can see the questions in the wide blue of his eyes without him needing speak the words. Did he make a mistake? Had he ruined it? Should he not have kissed her?

Ger lurches upright, heart thundering as she stumbles to stand and turn to face him.

She stares at him. Haurchefant gazes helplessly back. His posture is already defeated. The way he says her name, "Ger?" soft and pleading.

"Lord Haurchefant," she says, and winces at the way he flinches.

She pauses, touches her lips, says, "My lord…" There are so many reasons why they shouldn't.

So many reasons. Yet she could not bring to mind even one as she looks at his face.

Her hands fist at her sides, eyes closing as she breathes deep. "...I did not." Her voice cracks as she admits it. Allows herself to be selfish. "I do not. ... Mislike it."

She opens her eyes. To look at him, a favorite pastime. Haurchefant looks… shocked. Relieved. A slow smile chasing across his face, cracking into a wide grin. "Yes?"

Ger feels herself blush. "I should like it… very much.. if you did so again."

Haurchefant is in her personal space in two strides of his long elezen legs. "Permission to take you into my arms, my dear?" Haurchefant about purrs into her ear, hovering just close enough that the smaller knight could feel the heat of his body.

"Granted," Ger replies, and her voice only faintly trembles along with the rest of her body.

The lord swoops down, clutching her to him, and Ger wraps her arms around him, clinging just as tightly. His lips find hers and it is he who gasps then at the unbridled passion he is met with. The first one had counted just barely. Twas much better to have his affections returned.

The midlander gives a soft sound as the lord lifts her, seating her on his desk, and continuing to kiss her with barely a breath between them.

Ger places her hands against his chest, flushing hot as her lord tugs at the backs of her knees and presses himself between her thighs.

She pulls back, softening their kiss as she leans away. "The stew," she says, a little breathless.

Haurchefant hums, kissing over her jaw. His lips drag over her ear, his breath hot as he murmurs, "Still much too hot."

Ger shudders as he licks at her ear, sucking her earlobe into his mouth to nibble between his teeth. She covers her mouth, cheeks blushing red as she tilts her head to the side. Haurchefant hums approvingly, cradling her close as he kisses down her throat and sucks marks into her skin that will be near impossible to hide.

"My lord," his knight moans.

Haurchefant lifts his head, his eyes like a blue flame as he frowns disapprovingly and corrects her. "I should like to hear you call me by my name as your lover."

Get about chokes. Lover? "My lord..!"

Haurchefant tuts. "What was that?"

Ger bites her lip, eyelashes fluttering, and then says quietly, "... Haurchefant."

Haurchefant beams, cupping her face in his hands as he brushes their noses together. Gazing deep into her eyes as he croons, "Yes, my dear?"

Ger's mouth works soundlessly. What… What had she meant to say?

Haurchefant grins roguishly. "Have I rendered you speechless, my lionheart?"

Ger pushes him back, frowning and breathing deep. He was too close. She could not think with him crowding against her all smiling lips and too blue eyes. His familiar scent filling her nose and fogging her brain.

"We have work to do." She says lamely.

Haurchefant looks at her steadily. Then sighs. He steps back, muttering, "Very well," and flops into her empty chair.

Ger frowns, still sitting on his desk. She hops down, and gives a yelp as the lord pulls her quite abruptly into his lap, sideways.

"Indulge me this," the lord huffs, holding her captive in his arms as she tries to squirm out of his lap.

"Indulging you is all I do," Ger retorts, huffing. She could break free if she really wanted to. But she would be lying to say some part of her was not enjoying this.

Haurchefant makes a show of whining, "Gerrrr," and clutching her to him. "Will you not compromise? If I cannot kiss you, at least let me hold you!"

Ger rolls her eyes reflexively as he whines her name, but ceases her struggling with a theatrical sigh.

"Fine."

Haurchefant makes a smug, triumphant sound in her ear.

Ger snorts and reaches for the papers that she had been looking over before her lord had made his reappearance.

Haurchefant captures her hand. "None of that! We eat first, then work. Or would you have the stew Medguistl worked so hard on grow cold and go to waste?"

"Even cold, I would eat it," Ger replies, just to be ornery.

Haurchefant huffs a warm puff of air against her neck. "Well, tonight you will have it hot," the lord says with humor, grasping her spoon and scooping up some stew to bring to her lips.

Ger eyes the spoon, flustered. Did he truly mean to feed her?

"Open up," Haurchefant coos, saccharine sweet.

Ger exhales a sigh through her nose and opens her mouth. The stew is still thankfully warm, though she can hardly register the delicate marrying of flavors as she sits on her lord's lap and is fed spoonful after spoonful.

Haurchefant radiates such happiness from something so simple. Her heart aches with the fondness she feels for him.

Soon enough her bowl is empty, and Ger reaches for the one meant for Haurchefant.

She takes up his spoon and takes a bite as Haurchefant asks her with a chuckle, "Still hungry?"

Still warm enough.

She scoops up another bite and promptly feeds it to Haurchefant.

Haurchefant laughs around that mouthful. Chewing and swallowing before pecking a kiss to her cheek. "Fair is fair, I see."

Ger feeds him another bite, quietly pleased. She cannot help but gaze at his face, unaware how very soft her own expression is. How it usually was when she took care of him, as she had often done over the years. But this, now, was different.

She can still feel his kiss lingering on her lips. Sweet and filled with promise.

As Haurchefant finishes his stew, Ger grabs the bottle of daniffen's joy and fills his cup to the brim.

"You lost the cork," Ger says pointedly as Haurchefant grins at her crookedly.

She waits until he lifts the cup to sip from it, before saying dryly, "Drink up, lover."

The resulting spray of alcohol is worth it for the sound of her lord's laughter.

#ladyramora writes #mild spice #kissing #haurchefant greystone #germanotta lionheart #gerchefant #Ger x Haurchefant #Haurchefant x Ger #I was tired of looking at this #it still feels unfinished #but I dont kow that I'll add more to it #meh

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hookedontaronfics · 4 years

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I’ll Be Home For Christmas - Part 2

Title: I’ll Be Home For Christmas - Part 2 Pairing: Taron x OC Rating: T Warning: None A/N: Merry Christmas to all of my lovely readers! Thank you for being here on this journey with me, for your likes, comments and reblogs. You have been a blessing to me, and I hope to be the same for you, a tiny little corner of the internet that is a welcome retreat from the real world. I wish you peace and joy and blessings in the new year ahead! Love, Jess! X

Andi woke up before the alarm, before the first fingers of daylight had begun to slip past the window shades and creep across the carpet. She shivered in the chilly room, realizing Taron had stolen most of the blankets. He looked adorable though, so she had a hard time being mad at him for that, and wrapped her arms around him as she snuggled in closer with him, if only to be able to tug the blankets back over to her side. Taron sighed softly in his sleep, his brow wrinkling slightly before a small smile settled on his face. She considered herself very lucky to be with someone who still caused butterflies in her stomach, even after all these years.

She dozed off again for a little bit, but soon her bladder demanded to be appeased, so she slipped out of bed, careful not to wake her sleeping husband, or Tibbs for that matter, who was still cocooned in blankets at the foot of the bed. She took care of her business and padded downstairs in her slippers, pulling a robe around herself as she went. She paused for a long moment in the dark living room, lit up from the moonshine, drawing patterns from the tree on the wall.

“Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse,” she recited softly from memory, reveling in the way the quiet house almost felt like it was holding its breath, a hushed whisper of excitement for the day ahead, even if she and Taron wouldn’t actually be home for it. She walked to the kitchen and got the coffee started, seeing as the alarm would be going off soon enough. They had a 4.5-hour drive ahead of them before they’d be in Aberystwyth, cozy and warm with his family.

She grabbed her favorite mug out of the cabinet, a tacky burgundy mug with two narwhals on it that read “I will narwahlways love you.” It had been a silly Valentine’s Day gift from Taron, but also the day he’d asked her to move in with him once they’d decided they were serious after an on-again, off-again relationship. Sure, there had been bumps in the road, and it hadn’t always been magical, but sometimes Andi was convinced it was what made them stronger now; they had fought hard to get where they were, and they were happy. That path didn’t have to be perfect as long as they had arrived there in the end; and she knew without a doubt they had earned it.

She poured herself some coffee, doctoring it with honey cream and sugar, making it probably sweeter than any coffee had a right to be, but it was the way she loved it all the same. It made her think of warm summer days and sunflower fields. She was lost in thought, sipping on her coffee, when Taron snuck up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and placing a kiss on her neck.

“Merry Christmas, love,” he said in her ear, nuzzling gently into her neck and sighing contentedly.

“Merry Christmas, T,” Andi replied in a whisper, her eyes tearing up slightly at the sweet, affectionate way he was holding her. Those baby hormones were certainly something else, she thought ruefully as she brushed the tears away quickly. “There’s coffee ready for you,” she added.

“Coffee sounds delicious,” he said, making no move to get some, still cradling his wife. He placed a few more kisses along her neck, his fingers deftly untying the robe and finding their way under the hem of her cami, caressing the skin of her stomach and waist and leaving goosebumps over her skin. Andi turned to face him, kissing him full on the lips, relishing the feel as he responded in kind. He walked her back until her butt ran into the counter gently, their kisses hungry. Andi let the robe slip from her shoulders to the floor, no longer aware of the morning chill in the house. She felt very warm, indeed, as Taron’s hands found purchase at her waist, pulling her hips against his so she moaned softly into his mouth.

“Don’t you dare start something you can’t finish, babe,” she said, pulling away to look at him for a moment, full of desire but aware of the ticking time clock too.

“Must I wait?” he groaned slightly, running a hand over his face and trying to blink the sleep out of his eyes.

“I’m not about to keep your family waiting while we… have fun,” she snickered, stealing one more kiss from him before going to pour him some coffee, missing the pout he gave her in response.

“But I’ve been waiting over a month,” he whined.

“That’s your own fault for being away so long,” she teased Taron, handing him a mug of steaming hot liquid, made up just the way he liked. She had that down to an art now. “I’m going to start getting ready, okay?” she said, kissing his cheek quickly and returning upstairs. Taron, for his part, fed Tibbs, sipped his coffee, and tried desperately hard to calm himself down. He knew he needed to see his family, since it’d been even longer than his absence from Andi, and they had news to share that he was incredibly excited about as well.

He eventually joined his wife in getting ready, donning a comfortable blazer over a plain shirt and jeans and, as usual, ready before she was. He went to pack the remaining gifts in the car, and by the time he returned Andi was putting on her coat.

“It’s warmed up a bit outside,” he remarked as he returned. “I’ve fed Tibbs so he’ll be good to go until we get back home and you look absolutely beautiful,” he smiled, taking her in, appreciating the way the blush rose in her cheeks. That he could still do that after all the time they’d been together always warmed his heart a bit.

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” she said, almost shyly.

“Well I do, and I’m a damn lucky man,” he replied sweetly, pulling out a long, skinny black box and holding it out to her.

“Taaaron, we promised, no gifts,” she said, shaking her head.

“Then consider it an “I’m sorry I’ve been gone so long” gift, not a Christmas gift. But I saw it, and thought of you.”

Andi cracked the box open slowly and gasped at the necklace inside. Really it was simple, a silver chain with a purple gemstone rendered in the shape of a bougainvillea flower. But she had been obsessed with those flowers on their honeymoon in Santorini, Greece, and it had been one of the best vacations they’d ever had together. Every day had been stunningly perfect, and the memory associated with those flowers was so strong she could nearly hear the waves on the beach as Taron carefully removed the necklace from the box and fastened it around her neck.

“Thank you, this means a lot,” she whispered. “It does make me feel closer to you,” she grinned.

“As soon as I wrap with this film, we should go back, before you get too far along in your pregnancy to travel. Just you and me and the beach and no worries at all,” he smiled.

“Is that a promise, husband of mine?” she asked, and he nodded his head vigorously.

“Abso-bloody-lutely,” Taron grinned, his dimples popping out and making her swoon.

“Well, I broke our rule too, and got you something,” Andi smiled, pulling out her gift and handing it to Taron.

“Another gift?” he said, shaking his head. “You really shouldn’t have,” he said as he quickly unwrapped it, pulling the box open to find a glitzy pair of sunnies from his favorite brand. “Andi, you really shouldn’t have!” he exclaimed, knowing just how much that particular pair cost, and it was a pretty penny indeed.

“Yeah, well, I wanted to so I did, and I know how you adore those. So put them on your handsome face and let’s get out the door!” she grinned.

He pulled her to him and kissed her sweetly, the way his eyelashes brushed his cheeks when he closed his eyes making her swoon again. “Thank you, darling, truly,” he said as he slid the sunnies on his face and looked every bit the movie star Andi knew him to be.

“These were a good choice,” she grinned, admiring him a bit.

They managed to lock up the house and pack themselves into the car, both in a cheery mood as they sang Christmas carols, only stopping once to grab breakfast sandwiches when they both got hungry. They watched the sun rise over the still-green hills of Wales, and she knew how happy Taron was being able to spend the holiday with his family. They were lovely people, and she always felt like part of the family when they were there.

“Do you think Mari and Rosie will like what I bought them?” Andi asked suddenly, making Taron chuckle.

“Of course they will. They’re obsessed with Frozen right now, so anything to do with it they’ll absolutely love. I think you did just fine.”

“Okay, well, I just hadn’t seen them in a while, and I know you sent me ideas of things to buy since you wouldn’t be here to do it yourself. But it still makes me nervous,” she admitted.

“My family loves you, Andi. There’s literally nothing to be nervous about,” Taron replied, grabbing her hand and squeezing it supportively.

“What about the baby?” she asked, biting her lip.

“Ahhh,” Taron sighed softly, figuring there was more to her anxiety than just the presents themselves. “Mum will be over the moon you know. She’s never tried to pressure me about kids, but I think she’d be incredibly excited to be a grandmother. And I’m not exactly getting younger here,” he smiled. “I think it’s the right time in my life, and it’s the right thing for us too. I’m excited, and there should be nothing else that you’re feeling about it either.”

“But that’s just… not realistic, Taron. I am anxious. And I’m scared, that we’ll lose this one too. I’m worried that I won’t be a good mum. I’m excited, but also terrified in equal measure,” she said softly. “Because something we’ve wanted, something we’ve tried for a few times, something that could be so good, could so easily be ripped away from me and I don’t know if I’m strong enough to handle that.”

“Oh, darling,” Taron said gently, glancing at her quickly before training his eyes back on the road. “You are the strongest person in the world I know, and you’ll be the best damn mum there is. And we will get through whatever comes our way together. I understand the undercurrent of fear; I’m not immune to it. But I also want to hope, and I want to be excited, and until I have a reason to not be those things, I’m going to let that be my guiding principle, yeah?”

Andi nodded her head, knowing she was being overly emotional but also, in some ways, unable to control it. She just wanted so very badly for this to have the happy ending they desired. They had dreamed about it together for awhile; spoken about being parents in hushed whispers at night. To be able to share that dream with the man she adored, the man she loved and had devoted her entire life to, it felt like she had finally arrived at her purpose in life. She rested her hands on her belly; she had begun to show slightly, the barest bump she could only dream the best future for.

They were comfortably silent for a little bit, the strains of music the only sound in the car. The rolling hills soon gave way to the glittering water of the sea, grey clouds scudding across the sky in a hurry on their way to who knows where. Andi began to recognize some of the landmarks along the way, and soon they were cruising into Aberystwyth, Christmas lights twinkling and doing their best to outshine the sunlight. She breathed a small sigh of relief, happy to have finally made it, the place feeling at once familiar even though she had only been a handful of times.

Taron’s sisters ran out to greet them as soon as they had pulled up to the house and parked. Squealing excitedly, they hugged Taron tightly, and he hugged them back. “My stars, how you’ve grown!” he exclaimed cutely. Soon his mother and stepdad had come out to help them bring everything in, spreading their gifts out under the tree along with the others.

They talked and laughed together so much, Andi’s sides were aching from it all, and her face nearly hurt from all the smiling. The food was delicious, and she ate until she felt she nearly might pop. Watching Taron with his family filled her with a certain kind of warmth, and she was grateful to be a part of it at all. The girls, of course, couldn’t wait to open presents, and so they all settled in the living room after the meal, passing out gifts to one another, the girls absolutely loving their Anna and Elsa dolls and wanting to play with them immediately.

Despite Andi’s nerves over her and Taron’s news, she really needn’t be; when Taron’s mum opened a gift with a sweet little onesie made to look like the iconic orange velvet Kingsman jacket, her hands instantly went to her mouth and she nearly cried. It was the sweetest thing, getting to share in the excitement of that moment. “Well it’s about damn time, son!” Taron’s mum teased him, beyond thrilled for them, and soon Andi was having to tell her all the details too, which she didn’t mind one bit.

They ended up cozying up on the couches to watch a movie, and Rosie and Mari snuggled up to Taron on either side, leaving Andi to hug the arm of the couch instead of her husband. When his mum tried to correct them though, Andi just laughed and waved off the concern. She would never get enough of seeing Taron with kids, to be honest, especially as he was going to be a dad soon himself. Everything about this Christmas Day with his family reminded her of that, and she couldn’t feel happier.

The day had worn on and soon they decided it was time to head on home. Of course his mum offered for them to stay in the guest room, as she always did, concerned about them driving home late at night, but Taron seemed keen on getting back home, as he hadn’t really had much chance to enjoy being home at all since he’d arrived. His mum insisted on packing them some leftovers to take home, telling Taron, once again, that he needed to get some meat on his bones. Andi and Taron shared an eyeroll behind her back, but she knew he loved and appreciated his mum very much. Hugs and kisses and wishes of “wish you could stay longer!” were exchanged all around, and soon they were back in their car and headed back to London.

“I’m kind of sad to see Christmas over already,” Andi said wistfully.

“Who said it had to be over once we got home, eh?” Taron snickered lightly. “We can celebrate in our own way.”

“You’re quite naughty, you know,” she just laughed lightly, knowing exactly what he was hinting at, not so subtly.

“What!” He exclaimed innocently. “I’ve been home for a whole day and have yet to enjoy my beautiful, pregnant might I add, wife! A man’s got needs.”

“Uh-huh,” Andi just laughed, though she couldn’t deny her feelings for him too. “Today has really been just perfect though,” she smiled over at him.

“It has been,” he agreed. “And I am grateful I didn’t miss this one,” he said, raising her hand to his lips and placing a sweet kiss on the back of her hand.

“Me too,” she said softly. “It wouldn’t have been as magical without you.”

“It wouldn’t have been Christmas at all for me without you,” Taron said earnestly. “You are my whole world, Andi. I hope I never leave you with a doubt about that again.”

“Oh, T. I’ve always known that. I think, just facing this new adventure, feeling like I was bearing that news alone, was really difficult for me. But we’re good now. You’re here, and you know, and we’re going to be doing this together from now on.”

“Yes we are,” he agreed. “You won’t feel alone in this, not a damn minute, I promise.”

They talked off and on some more, sharing ideas and plans for the future ahead of them, but Andi started feeling incredibly tired, happy but worn out from the day. She tried hard to stay awake, partly for Taron’s sake, but eventually she lost the fight, drifting off to sleep, her head against the window. Her breath left little fog patterns on the glass as she snoozed lightly. Taron couldn’t help but smile to himself, just completely grateful for this moment with her, a moment that felt all too precious.

When they finally made it safely home, he didn’t bother trying to wake her. He went to the front door first and unlocked it, leaving it open a crack, just enough for him to be able to push it open without his hands. He returned to the car, carefully opening the passenger side door. He reached across his sleeping wife, unbuckling her seat belt, and then ever-so-carefully maneuvering her out of the seat and into his arms, lifting her up and carrying her inside.

“Hmmmmm, Taron?” she asked sleepily, her head resting against his shoulder as he climbed up the stairs slowly.

“We’re home now,” he said gently.

“I fell asleep?” she asked, her eyes fluttering open slightly.

“Just a bit,” he grinned. “But you can stay sleeping, it’s okay.”

“Oh, but I was supposed to stay awake for you,” she giggled lightly. “You know, for reasons,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows at him playfully, but the sleep was still heavy in her eyes.

“There will always be another day, babe. You need your beauty sleep, now that you’re a mama,” he said cutely, carrying her to their bedroom and setting her gently in the bed.

“God I love you,” she said softly as he leaned over her gently and kissed her, sweet and slow, enjoying the feel of her lips against his.

“I know,” he said against her lips, his bright green eyes meeting her deep chocolate brown ones. They held the gaze for a long moment, feelings shared but not needing to be expressed out loud. It was almost as if their two hearts were beating as one, and soon, they would add a third to their little home.

Taron left her briefly to bring in their presents from the car, to make sure Tibbs was okay and to secure the rest of the house. Andi wriggled out of her pants and sweater and tossed them on the floor before snuggling into the covers, pulling them around herself. Right here, this moment, was exactly where she wanted to be. She checked her phone for a moment, smiling over the text messages and social media wishes of “Merry Christmas!” from her colleagues and friends. She responded to as many as she could until Taron returned to the bedroom. He also mostly tossed his clothes aside, crawling in in just his boxers, exhaustion from driving all day working its way into him.

“We’ll have to figure out a way to reveal our news to everyone else soon,” Andi smiled as she got comfortable with Taron, her fingers finding purchase under the covers on the smooth skin of his chest.

“I’m sure we will,” he said, hiding a yawn behind his hand. “Something cute and creative,” he said, his eyelids already drooping closed. “But for now, sleep,” he sighed.

“Oh I guess,” she giggled, well aware that she was in no position to argue. “Sweet dreams, my love,” she said, nestling herself into the crook of his arm, the warmth of his body familiar and reassuring. All she knew was that the past two days had been near perfect, at least once Taron had gotten home. She had to laugh at her anger earlier, the way pregnancy made everything feel sharper, more in focus, more intense, the highs much higher and the lows that much lower. They were certainly in for a ride, she thought, as Taron’s breathing slowed and she could tell he had drifted off. He was never one to waste a moment of sleep, but she didn’t mind it so much. The quiet, peaceful moments were always where she felt most at home. And wherever Taron was, that’s where she belonged.

“Merry Christmas, darling,” she whispered into the quiet stillness of the room, brushing her fingers lightly over his forehead, brushing his already-messy hair aside. Right here, right now, this moment, was the greatest feeling of home of all. As that thought warmed her heart, she felt the sweet siren song of sleep calling, and she willingly succumbed to slumber, happier than she’d ever felt before.

Wishing you and yours the merriest holiday season and peace and joy in the new year to come!

#taron imagine #taron fluff #taron egerton #christmas fanfic #taron x reader #taron fanfiction

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parf-fan · 5 years

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Followup: Blackfryars!

Mount Hope, I’m begging you. 👏 Hire 👏 a 👏 copy 👏 editor. 👏

As always, visit the Faire’s website for headshots

Estelle Angrist : Millicent Goodnestone – Apprentice Stone-Carver

Inside every stone is a piece of art, so says Millicent. All you need to do is listen to the rock and take away the unnecessary pieces. Now, the artistry comes in the patience with which one removes the extra bits of stone. Patience, hammer, chisel, and a light touch are all that are required. Otherwise, a good piece of stone can become a dust pile very quickly. Thank goodness today is a festival day, because Millicent has been sweeping piles of dust for a while.

Alessandra Appiotti : Bernadette Albright – Matchmaker

The shire is being visited by the World’s most famous Bachelorette: Queen Elizabeth! If Bernadette can find the one for Queen Elizabeth, she will go from rising star to full-on supernova! She’d better get started lining up eligible bachelors! Or Bachelorettes! She hasn’t met Her Majesty yet, so who is she to judge her tastes?

Andréa Barton : Lady Blanche Parry – Lady in Waiting

This devoted Lady has served the Queen from the time our monarch was in nappies! They are boon companions, sharing court life and all its intrigue and frivolity. While she may look like the marzipan on the cake, her skilled organization of the Queen’s library and fondness for a good jest keeps her wit sharp enough to cut like a knife. Just ask the fool that attempts to play with her heart strings or guitar strings!

Kristin Bauer : Frances Newton, Lady Cobham – Lady in Waiting

Lady Cobham is thrilled to be on progress with the Queen. After all, this busy mother needs some time with the Ladies. With her soft nature and quick smile, she can often times be found with the children of the Shire, telling stories, rhymes, riddles, and playing games. Her sense of mirth does not leave her without a streak of mischief, as she does love to put her finger in the pot, give it a stir, and see what happens! Naughty or Nice? You be the judge!

Lauralette Bernard : Tolly Muneford – Harbor Master

Nothing comes in or out of the shores of Mount Hope that Tolly doesn’t know about. Her web of knowledge reaches far and wide, and she does it all in the service of the Shire. If only she wasn’t so keen on sharing all this knowledge with literally everyone, she might be able to use it for personal gain.

Jennifer Blackwell-Yale : Emily O. Bales – Fire Brigade

It has been 15 years since a monarch last visited the Shire of Mount Hope. Coincidentally, it has also been 15 years since the last fire in the shire of Mount Hope. Emily is always ready for action, but no one is quite sure she would know exactly what to do should action arise. When in doubt: stop, drop, roll, and have some wine. It seemed to work out just fine for the Old Dun Cow!

Karen Rose Bitzer : Rosie DuLait – Milkmaid

This milkmaid typically spends her day milking the cows and goats on the farm; carefully churning the butter; separating the curds from the whey; making the precious cheese to sell at market; all the time, singing and talking to her fine, generous, milk-laden friends! Is it any wonder that Rosie’s dairy products are highly sought for their sweet, creamy nature? It is even said that her happy cows seem to prance in the fields, as if dancing to a jig. Is that even possible? With Rosie, one never knows! Today she was up early: the Queen is expected and she wants to offer the sweetest cream and the finest butter to lay upon the Queen’s table.

Tabitha Borges : Abigail Montgomery – Governess to the Lady Mayor

Abigail has always had a way with children, and has taken care of all the Lady Mayor’s progeny, which means she is quite resilient! Of the many duties, trials, and tribulations the Penburthys have put her through, her favorite activity is still telling stories, and she is a masterful storyteller. Now that the Penburthy children, Calvin, Penelope, and Danforth, have all grown up, she is experiencing Empty Nest Syndrome far more than Delores is!

Elizabeth Burkholder : Paraffin Dyson – Bellows-Mender

Paraffin is a fan. She is a fan of fans. Her bellows will blow you away, that’s how big of a fan she is. Sometimes she can be a bit of a blowhard, but usually she can play it cool. And yet, even the coolest of bellows-menders may have a difficult time not having a meltdown with our Queen on the Shire. Time will tell if Paraffin maintains her composure or has a blowout, but one thing is for sure; she will certainly enjoy this festival day!

Jasmine Crist : Mary Robin Richland – Shire Ne'er-Do-Well

Every shire has one, ours is Mary Robin! While good-natured and always seen with a smile, it is known that one must keep a hand on your purse and an eye on your goods, for you may come up short when the back side of Mary Robin you see! Slight of hand, quick of feet, and always with a jest to share, it is her good nature and sharp wit that keeps her just on this side of the law, for now! It has been heard that she has high aspirations, but for what? Ask her, she may or may not share!

Ashley Crowther : Ira Roth – Actuary

Everyone’s heard of mad scientists, but a mad actuary? That’s much rarer. If you stare at numbers all day long, apparently they start staring back. Eventually, everything starts to look like a ledger, and you can see the numbers everywhere. Sure... that adds up...

Josh Dorsheimer : Jakob Werner – Landsknecht

Professional mercenaries fight the wars of the Kings of Europe. Professionals like Jakob. He does his level best to never think about any of that, though! He would rather spend his time gallivanting around town, spending his hard-won gold on drink, friends, and frivolity. The oldest of the family, Jakob is sometimes mistaken as the decision-maker of the clan. While he won’t outright deny this, the three siblings all know who really calls the shots: their baby sister!

Elisia Freeman : Agnes Lambourne – Apple-Monger

Apple cider, apple butter, apple sausage, apple crisp, apple cake.... Just ask this happy-go-lucky lady what you can do with all those apples, and she will tell you! Be prepared, her list is LONG! Apple juggling, apple carving, apple tossing, apple dicing, apple bocci. Do not be fooled, she knows that man does not live by apples alone; everyone knows you need a little cinnamon and a lot of laughter!

Corey Graff : Wagner Werner – Landsknecht

Wagner travels all over Europe fighting battles with his brother and sister for one reason: he loves them both dearly. Honestly though, he would much rather be laying down in a meadow watching butterflies. Sometimes suffering from middle child syndrome, Wagner’s gadabout ways certainly make life interesting for all the Werner siblings.

Steve Hager : Rip Skeleton – Gravedigger

There are two things certain in this world: Death, and Taxes – and Rip ain’t no accountant. Its always nice to have a friendly face build your final resting place.

Jeremiah Halteman : Ronald P. Eversmeyer – Yeoman Guard

They say history is written by the victors. Ronald has every intention of ensuring that our good Queen’s name goes down in the history of the world as the greatest victor of them all! He is always prepared to put himself between Her Majesty and danger, wherever it comes from, in whatever form it takes, and at any personal sacrifice! His extensive training in the art of personal security has rendered him one of the elite of the yeoman guard; as long as Her Majesty is not attacked from the air. Unfortunately, Ronald has a fear of butterflies. Something about the wings just throw off his rhythm, but no worries....butterflies in Mount Hope? Never!!

Jonathan Heise : Sir John Giffard of Chillington, Minister of Parliament, Knight – Nobleman

This Minister of Parliament felt it his duty to be present during the Queen’s progress at Mount Hope. Concerned that perhaps this tiny village would not be up to the task of hosting our Queen, he would be quick to move the festivities to Chillington. Upon arrival he realized his foolish mistake; never had he seen such a shire, and thought perhaps ‘twas time to move Chillington to Mount Hope! However, for now, why not enjoy the festivities?

Brianna E. Holmes : Mary Hill, Lady Cheke – Lady in Waiting

This gentlewoman of the Privy Chamber is well loved by all. Her husband, John Cheke, a gentleman of the court, encourages her in her service of the Queen. The Queen has blessed them often with gifts, grants, and an estate or two. Even at this show of opulence, Lady Cheke takes it all in stride. She finds joy in the simple things in life; her children, her rose garden, and her love of arachnids. Their homes, their legs, and loving little eyes; can you ever have enough? I think NOT says Lady Cheke.

Anastasia Keno : Louise Weaver – Shepherdess

A diligent if mischievous shepherdess, Louise has a passion for all things fluffy! Why should sheep be the only animals allowed to graze free? Let the cats graze free! Let the puppies graze free! Let the mice graze free! Free the animals! Sorry... she can be very passionate.

Jennifer Litzinger : Cherie Piquant – Spice Merchant

If the first pinch of salt is free, be prepared to pay dearly for everything else. A shrewd business woman, do not let Cherie’s smile fool you. She was born to barter, and barter she will! Well-known on the shire as the woman who can get what you need, do not be afraid to ask; as long as its cinnamon, cloves, turmeric, or cardamom, by day’s end, it will be in your kitchen. Ask for a song, and you could be in for a treat.

Dana Micciché : Katherine Champernowne, Lady Kat Ashley – Lady in Waiting

Appointed governess, tutor, friend, and confidante, Lady Kat Ashley ensured that her Queen had all the necessary tools to rule England. Well versed in astronomy, geography, history, Latin, Spanish, Italian, and Flemish, this unassuming woman is also trained in the art of swordsmanship, axe-throwing, archery, and caber tossing! Think you know a little about a lot? Lady Kat knew it first!

Traci Mohl : Olivia Charnwood – Huntress

The family tradition of hunting and tracking lives on in the guise of Olivia. Like her mother and grandmother before her, ear to ground, sniffing the air; hunting prey is in her blood. Mount Hope’s finest archer, Olivia never fails to bring home the meat – just don’t ask her to cook it!! On this festival day, she plans on showing off her tracking skills by sniffing out a merry time!

Beverly Newton : Charlotte Seaswift – Shipwright

This buoyant aquatic engineer helps keep the Harbor of Mount Hope afloat. An eye for design and a passion for innovation drive Charlotte. She knows that the fine line between sink and swim is just a patch away, and she is always ready to keep things floating on.

Jared Nocella : Miles I. Gore – Professional Henchman

Some people are natural born leaders. Miles is not one of those people. Miles is a natural born lackey, and he’s the best there is at being second fiddle. Always down for doing the dirty work, and he does it dirt cheap! Miles is a sidekick with a smile and has a flare for following.

Alexandra Pentz : Dorte Werner – Kampfrau

The youngest of the Werner siblings, but make no mistake: she is the one that keeps the family together. From designing the boys’ clothes, managing the family finances, and fighting her share of battles, she is as clever as she is dangerous. And after all that, she still has the ability to be the most mischievous of the three!

Lianna Pike : Rosalind Anne Uxbridge – Gardener

Rosalind has had her hands deep in dirt, up to her elbows, preparing for the Royal visit. The gardens must be perfect! Simple details like stone placement can be so critical, yet every time she plants, those chipmunks and rabbits have a feast . That is why Rosalind has a bed in all of her garden plots. She sleeps in a different flower bed each night. Thank goodness the festival is finally here, she can finally get out of the beds and enjoy the beauty of her work with the rest of the shirefolk.

Nicolas Rainville : Grayson Thomas Hemplewhite – Squire to the Master of Horse, Sir Robert Dudley

What an honor to serve the horse that carries the saddle that seats the man who serves the Queen so closely! To say that Hemplewhite is a hard worker is putting it mildly. His work is never done. Clean the tack, muck the stall, check the hooves; not to mention ensuring that Tinker, the horse, is always sweet-smelling for his Master to ride. But today is a festival day. Tinker smells sweet, now its time for Hemplewhite to have a bit of merriment.

Jessica Reesor : Holly Teacake – Baker

Everyone likes sweets at a festival, and Holly has made sure the shire is stocked with confections to please any palate. Fruity, chocolatey, savory – whatever your taste, Holly has you covered! An obsessive planner, Holly loves the order of a recipe. It is a mathematical equation for pleasing people. If only everything else was that simple!

Laura Reesor : Pearl Topstitch – Tailor

A visionary designer with an eye for style. Never satisfied with the same-old same-old; when something works once, she’s done with it! Her appetite for new and exotic is matched only by her skill. She can look at a piece of fabric and see the hidden...pearl...of genius within. Now it is time to show off her skills to the Queen.

James Riley : Adam Cringer – Yeoman Guard

A newly-minted member of the Yeoman Guard following in the footsteps of his grandfather and father before him. Legend of Adam’s monster-hunting exploits have already preceded him. Now it is time to see if the man can match the Legend.

Victoria Sangston : Dorothea Anne Heartley – Etiquette Mistress

Today is a big day for the shire of Mount Hope, and the Lady Mayor has tasked Mistress Heartley with making sure everyone puts their best foot forward. Of course, is that the right foot or the other right foot? Joyfully surveying the shirefolk, she knows everyone will be on their best, smiling, bowing, hat tipping, formal greeting behavior – or else!

Michael Sheffield : John Dee – Royal Astrologer

A good ruler has good advisors. Time will tell what kind of advisor John Dee will be. He says he talks to angels. Perhaps he does. Perhaps he’s just a brilliant con man. One thing is for sure – eccentric only scratches the surface of describing this stargazing man.

Jessie Smith : Polly Lynne Pickering – Apprentice Rag-picker

Polly Lynne has been following in her mum’s footsteps for as long as she can remember. Mum does have a keen eye for bits and pieces, but Polly Lynne is impatient! When she is THE Rag-Picker, she will be much more efficient! Would anyone REALLY notice if a bit was snipped off a gown here and there? Bushes and scissors are a picker’s best friend. She has heard of the fine fabrics worn by the Nobles of the court and is hoping to snip.... errrr....snag a piece or two of those fabrics for herself!

Mary Smith : Penelope Ann Pickering – Rag-picker

Some call it rag-picking, but Penelope prefers to call it fabric repurposing opportunities. Opportunities abound in the shire of Mount Hope, all you have to do is look around! And look she does!! With a keen eye for bits of fabric, lace, gossip, and good will, she has a kind word for everyone and perhaps a bit of scrap for those in need; and, really, who doesn’t need a bit of scrap now and then? And now, with the training up of Polly Lynne, she’s busy busy busy! Thank goodness for the Festival. Mirth, merriment, and fabric scraps!

Evelin Stayner : Buttercup M. Rosehips – Scullery Wench

This young lady is happy when surrounded by a pile of dirty anything. Beginning, middle, end! That is where she finds her joy. Every day has its adventures, and they all start when the sun comes up and last throughout the day. You may find her dancing, singing, or generally making herself an asset to the Shire of Mount. Hope. Some might even call her a fledgling pillar of society; probably more like a fence post. But everybody has to start somewhere!

Katrin Stayner : Eva Froman – Sausage Queen of the Shire

Blessed with infinite patience, and a lithe mind to keep up with her husband. The Fromans are nouveau riche, and happy to flaunt it. Eva is the true brains of the operation. Her wurst is the best, and her husband is the best at being the worst. [the Sausage King is being played by one of the improv directors who doubles as an independent act.]

Jordan Taft : Dorothy "Dottie" Brooke – Lady in Waiting

This Maid of Honor is a seasoned Lady of the court. Certainly Lady Dorothy has done it all, seen it all, and has the bodice to prove it. However, Mount Hope intrigues her. After all, it is time for her to settle down and have a family of her own, and the matchmaker of the Shire is famous throughout the land. She may leave here betrothed, or at least,with several good prospects. Love is in the air, or, is that TURKEY???

Robyn Thompson : Fiona Erin O'Donald – Personal Foot Post of the Lady Mayor

When Fiona came to Mount Hope, the first person she met was the Lady Mayor, who had just lost her third foot post in six months. Fiona needed a job; she had no idea what a foot post was, but she knew she could do it! She is Irish after all! As it turns out, she is the best foot post the Mayor has ever had!! Messenger, she’s the Lady Mayor’s personal messenger!

Sandi Trait : Becky Billingsly – Town Crier and Lady Mayor’s Official Letter-Opener

Becky Billingsly, the voice of the shire, knows full well the weight her proclamations carry. As Official Letter Opener for the Lady Mayor, she is at the forefront of all the news that is news in the shire. Of course, nothing beats today’s happenings! The young Queen makes her way to the gates of Mount Hope. How thrilling to share her news and tidings with the court of her Majesty!

Ariel E. Urich : Kathryn Bridges – Lady in Waiting

This Maid of Honor is on her first progress with the Queen. She has lived her entire life in training for this very time and now that it is here, she realizes that something is missing. She knows how to carry the cup with grace and style; the basket is a simple matter; smiling at the proper time, sitting, standing. So, what is the problem? She has this deep desire to make people laugh! So far, she has shared a bit of her talent with the Ladies of the Court, but perhaps this small shire is where she can be a bit more free with her jests and merriment. Oh, the festival day could not get here soon enough!

Brianna Yale : Lydia der Schlachter – Butcher

Leaving home to work for the Fromans was a tough decision but one she is happy she made. Butchering brings her such delight. From the time she begins to sharpen her blade to the beauty of well-cut chop, this butcher knows her way around a slab of beef, pork, and lamb. However, never ask her for a capon! She has been squeamish since the capon incident of 1552. Enough of that! This is a festival day, and she plans on celebrating with the shire folk and perhaps even catching a glimpse of the new Queen.

Darrell E. Yoder : Sylvan Farelight – Tinker

If it needs mending, this is the man to do it. If it needs replacing, step right up, he has it. If you need a bit of magic in your life, having Sylvan on the streets ensures that your needs will be met! Always popular when he arrives on shire; Sylvan can be counted on to share a bit of news from afar; a bit of wisdom from within; and a bit of magic from, well, from where magic comes from!

To the newcomers, welcome! To those returning, welcome back!

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starcunning · 6 years

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This Beast That Rends Me: 1 Apr

Hi and welcome to … whatever the fuck this is!

I’ve had the loose framework for this story in my head since last August (and X’shasi shortly thereafter), and hopefully can get some of the words out over the next few weeks. Be warned that none of this will be edited, and strong themes may be present throughout. Check the tags for more info.

This Beast That Rends Me

Prologue

He fled and she chased, as her nature bid her, until he led her at last into the gardens. The sun shone on her face, and she could hear the wind rustle through the leaves, but there was no calm to be found.

“Welcome to the Royal Menagerie,” the Viceroy greeted her. There was an edge to the pleasantry as sharp as the steel naked in her hand. X’shasi did not bring it to bear. Not then, and not while he spoke of the history of her homeland. Her gaze was transfixed instead by the cage of lightning that kept bound the primal. She could smell the ozone of its prison and the rankness of its hate. Shasi cursed herself for a fool: they never had found it, but distracted by other concerns, she had not wondered where it had gotten to. “It was you, after all, who let slip the Allagan hound to drive this eikon into my arms,” he gloated. The shock of his prescience must have shown on her face, for he laughed: “Oh, my. Have I said too much? Forgive me. This sensation is … wholly unfamiliar to me.” A shake of his head, the silk of his hair gilded by late-afternoon sun. “A question, then—and I should like very much for you to speak from the heart. If I were to stand aside, what would you do to this eikon?”

X’shasi said nothing, looking from the man to the primal that dwarfed them both. It was, to her mind, a foregone conclusion. A score of primals returned to the aether spoke louder than she ever could. “You will not indulge me even with a simple reply, then?” he asked, almost pouting. But what followed seemed to cheer him: “No, you think only of the fight to come. How alike we are.” It was not the first time X’shasi had thought it. “A pity,” he said, the rasp of his voice lending an irony to the words. “There is another alternative. Or there would be … had you only mastered your abilities.” It was tempting bait, and she must have let that show, for he smiled. “I speak of the Echo, of course. Does it merely render you immune to eikonic influence? Or is it rather that your influence is far greater than theirs?” He let the question hang before dismissing it, and her. “But these implications are of no moment to a savage, who thinks only of killing the beast before him …”

Thus his research, it would seem. Thus what had been made of Fordola rem Lupis. Shasi had never fought one of her own kind before her—no, she amended. She had fought her own once before. There had been joy in it then, as now. Joy as much as sorrow; thrill as much as regret.

The Viceroy was still speaking. “Man should fight for the joy of it,” said he. “To live, to eat, to breed—lesser beasts snap and howl at one another for this. Only man has the wisdom and the clarity to embrace violence for its own sake. For we who are born into this merciless, meaningless world have but one candle of life to burn.” Did she? “I know you understand this,” he told her, almost purring. “You and I are one and the same. Together, we could while away the quiet hours as friend and confidant … if you will accept me.”

She had an answer for him then. It was the answer she had given all her life to those who had asked her aid. It was the answer she had proffered even in the most hopeless situations, even to those who had offered her violence in return. The answer she had given Thancred. And Estinien. And Arbert. “I accept you,” she said, hand outstretched. He laughed: “Are we to embrace, and let bygones be bygones? Do our deeds weigh so little that you would cast all aside? Come. ‘Twas plain from the first how this would end.” Fate was a bitter pill, but she had refused to take it then, and would not take it now.

“You live for these moments—when all hangs in the balance … when the difference between life and death is but a single stroke. I live for them too! This is who we are, my friend! This is all we are!”

He woke the primal then. Its cry thundered in her ears. She could feel her heart in her throat, her sword in her hand. Her eyes locked to his, even as they changed, even as he became one with the primal.

Zenos fled, and she chased.

“If I’m to die, then let it be in summertime In a manner of my own choosing” — Neil Hannon

Chapter One

His retreat was a streak of green across the crimson sky, leaving a trail of aether strong enough for her to follow. Zenos landed among the flowers, the gentility of white petals around him a contrast for the savagery that had gone between them. Her companions would arrive soon.

He coughed, staining white flowers red. Then, breath whistling through his lungs, he laughed. “Oh, the hunter has indeed become the hunted.” She could smell the tang of iron in the air. The blood glistened on his lips as he smiled. “And yet,” he said, “there is only joy. Transcendent joy as I have never known. How invigorating; how … pure, this feeling.”

He came to his feet, the Ame-no-Habakiri naked in his hand. But for what? They had given their all in the fight before. Shasi grasped her focusing crystal. The blood on her hands made it slippery, dulling its azure facets.

“Is that what this was all for?” she asked. “For the sake of feeling something?” “Yes,” he said, his breath quavering through him. “Oh, to enshrine this moment in eternity.”

He lifted his sword—not against her, but to his own throat. She had, for a moment, the clearest vision of what was to come. On the string of aether still between them, Shasi pulled herself inside his guard. Too late.

His arterial spray caught her in the face as he sank to his knees. She saw the light fading from his eyes, blinking her own, but her strength was in her balance. Gripping him by the neck, she called upon her white magics.

He fell into the bed of flowers, but his chest rose and fell. There was something—some expression she could not quite place—and then his eyes closed.

She turned toward the sound of footsteps. Her companions were there: those who had fought beside her as well as those who could not.

It was General Aldynn who spoke first. “Where is he?” Shasi wiped the blood from her face and snapped off the practiced salute of the Immortal Flames. “Here,” she said. “Dead?” he asked. “No,” she said, shifting her weight, putting herself between the Crown Prince and her allies. “Still breathing.” “You have your orders, Lieutenant Kilntreader,” he reminded her.

So she had, and had acted despite them. That hasty promise should have meant little enough, but he had asked for her aid, and she had given it. And, examining her feelings in that fleeting moment, X’shasi was surprised to discover how she had wanted him to live. “We could question him,” she said then. “He must know a great deal that would be of use to the Eorzean Alliance. And …” X’shasi paused, tongue darting out to wet her lips, tasting iron. “I think he would tell it to me.” “Question him?” Raubahn scoffed. “We can’t even keep him.”

“Then give him to me,” she said. “I cannot,” the Flame General told her. “You will not,” X’shasi corrected, “though I ask for so little. I slay your primals and fight your wars and protect your people. I ask for nothing, ‘til now, and if you will not grant it, you may find another Warrior of Light.”

It took him aback; she could see the way he set his jaw. She had to lift her chin to look into his eyes. Better to look upon the incomprehension on his face than the disgust in others. It seemed an age before he nodded, motioning the chirurgeons forward. “Move him,” he said. “I hope you know what you’re doing, Kilntreader.”

#TBTRM #x'shasi #zenos yae galvus #wol/zenos #blood cw #and we're off!#original content #starcunning writes

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addicted-to-darkness · 7 years

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Royal Menagerie Translation

A lot of people already pointed out how there are differences between the different localizations of Final Fantasy XIV in what exactly is said and how that sheds a new light on characters. A friend of mine asked me to take a look at the German version in regards to Zenos, so here we go for all who are curious.

Below the cut is a direct comparison between the English dialogue with Zenos and the German version, with a literal translation of it.

Heavy Spoiler warning for the Ending of 4.0, of course.

Bold: English Localization

Plain: German transcription

Cursive: Literal translation

Welcome to the Royal Menagerie.

Willkommen in meinem Lustgarten hoch über den Wolken.

Welcome to my pleasure garden high above the clouds.

The King of Ruin built this place for his foreign queen. He kept it filled with familiar creatures from her homeland. They bored me all.

Der letzte König der Mhigiten lies dieses Paradies für seine Frau errichten. Er brachte Getier und Gewächse aus ihrer fernen Heimat um sie zu erfreuen. Mir persönlich gefiehl die Sammlung nicht.

The last king of the Mhigans had this paradise built for his wife. He brought animals and plants from her far away home to delight her. Personally, I didn't like the collection.

This fine specimen, on the other hand, is simply... divine.

Dieses Geschöpf dagegen ist einfach nur... göttlich.

This creature, on the other hand, is simply... divine.

Your fates are entwined, are they not, eikon-slayer? This dragon, this... embodiment of unbridled despair, born of a desperate man's burning hatred for the Empire....

Na, Held der Wilden? Fühlst du nicht auch eine schicksalhafte Verbindung mit dieser Bestie? Euer gestaltgewordener Hass auf die Garlean, nun ein Werkzeug in der Hand eines Garlean.

So, Hero of the Savages? Don’t you feel the fateful connetion to this beast as well? Your hatred for the Garleans manifest, now a tool in the hand of a Garlean.

How raw the raging tempest that churns within its breast. No myth made manifest this, but... a being of pure violence.

Nichts as blinde Zerstörungswut in seinem Inneren. Ein armseeliger Gott ohne eigene Mythologie. Ein Geschöpf ohne jede Geschichte.

Nothing but blind lust for destruction in him. A pathetic god without his own mythology. A creature without any history.

Hah hah, mayhap you are the true architect of our design. You who fought the very soul of vengeance to the edge and watched him fall; you who let slip the Allagan hound to drive this eikon into my arms!

Fast möchte man meinen du hättest dies alles zu meinem größten Wohlgefallen arangiert. Oder warst es nicht du selbst, der jene rachsüchtige Seele an den Abgrund trieb, bis sich ihr Hass über dem Wall manifestierte und der Omega den allagischen Häscher entschlüpfen lies um diesen neuen Götzen in meine Arme zu treiben?

One could almost believe you did all of this for my greatest pleasure. Or had it not been you yourself, who chased this vengeful soul to the edge until his hatred manifested itself above Baelsar’s Wall, and who let the Allagan bloodhound escape to drive this false god into my arms?

Oh... My. Have I said too much? Forgive me, this... sensationis wholly unfamiliar to me.

Oh... Hah hah hah hah hah hah, ich rede zuviel, verzeih mir. Das ist alles einfach zu aufregend.

Oh... Hah hah hah hh hah hah, I’m talking too much, forgive me. All of this is just too exciting.

A question, then-- and I should like very much for you to speak from the heart. If I were to stand aside, what would you do to this eikon?

Aber lass uns doch einmal über deine geschätzte Ansicht sprechen. Sag, wenn ich nicht wäre, was würdest du mit diesem Monstrum hier anstellen?

But let us talk about your valued opinion. Tell me, if it wasn’t for me, what would you do with this monstrosity?

“...”

Hm. You will not indulge me even with a simple reply, then? No. You think only of the fight to come. How alike we are.

Was bist du nur für ein langweiliger Gesprächspartner. Oder eilen deine Gedanken schon vorraus zu unserem Kampf? Dann sind wir wirklich seelenverwandt.

What a boring partner in conversation you are. Or are your thoughts already hurrying ahead to our battle? If so, we are truly soulmates.

A pity. There is another alternative. Or there would be... had you only mastered your abilities.

Na jedenfalls mangelt es deiner Antwort an Originalität. Es gab noch eine andere, doch du siehst sie nicht, weil du deine Gabe noch nicht gemeistert hast.

Well, anyway, your answer is lacking in originality. There is another, yet you don’t see it, because you haven’t mastered your gift yet.

I speak of the Echo, of course. Does it merely render you immune to eikonic influence? Or is it rather that your influence is far greater than theirs? Granted, these implications are of no moment to a savage, who thinks only of killing the beast before him...

Die Kraft des Transzendierens. Verleiht sie jedeglich Immunität gegen den Willen der Primae, oder gibt sie uns vielmehr die Macht über sie? Heh, und du hast immer nur daran gedacht sie umzubringen.

The power of transcendence. Does it only gift you immunity to the will of the primals, or does it actually grant us power over them? Heh, and you only ever though about killing them.

But when I read von Baelsar's reports, I immediatelly saw the boundless potential of the Echo. I saw how it could be instrumental in binding an eikon to one's will. Hence my research and the Resonant-- and oh so much more!

Aber als ich in einem Bericht von van Baelsar von dieser Gabe las, sah ich sofort ihr Potential. Den Geist eines Primae kontrollieren, was für ein Gedanke! Deshalb forschte ich so intensiv an der Aetherbeherrschung durch deine Gabe.

But when I read about this gift in a report of van Baelsar, I immediatelly saw its potential. To control the spirit of a primal, what a thought! Because of this i researched the aether control through your gift so thoroughly.

All eikons must be exterminated, without exception. Such was the imperial mandate issued by my great-grandfather after he saw firsthand the destruction wrought by on such being. They are a blight upon this star, he felt, and so he began his great and just crusade.

Eines der obersten Ziele Garlemalds ist die Vernichtung der Primae. Der Reichsgründer, Kaiser Solus, mein Urgroßvater, sah bei der Eroberung des Ostkontinents welche Verwüstung die Primae dort angerichtet hatten. Um den Planeten von dieser Gefahr zu befreien, began er seinen Feldzug des Wahren und Gerechten.

One of the highest goals of Garlemald is the destruction of the primals. The founder of our empire, Emperor Solus, my great-grandfather, saw the havoc primals had wreaked during his conquest of the eastern continent. To free the planet from this danger, he started his True and Just crusade.

Pah! 'Twas not justice which spurred his campaign, but fear! Fear of the eikons, fear of their power. Cowardice made them march forth to battle. Pathetic!

Heh! Sein Motiv war nicht Gerechtigkeit, sondern Angst! Sie kämpften, weil sie vor den Primae, vor dem Untergang des Planeten zitterten. Armseelig!

Heh! His motive wasn’t justice, but fear! They fought, because they trembled before the primals, before the demise of our planet. Pathetic!

Man should fight for the joy of it. To live, to eat, to breed-- lesser beasts snap and howl at one another for this. Only man has the wisdom and the clarity to embrace violece for its own sake.

Dabei ist der Kampf doch etwas Vergnügliches. Kein blindes Ringen um Futter und Überleben, wie bei den niederen Tieren. Es ist ein Privileg der Höherentwickelten, ihn allein um der Gewalt willen zu genießen.

But fighting is something entertaining. No blind struggle for food and survival, like with lesser animals. It is the privilege of higher beings to enjoy combat for the sake of violence.

For we who are born into this merciless, meaningless world, have but one candle of life to burn.

Nur eines ist niemandem im Überfluss gegeben: das Leben. Das einzige, endliche Leben. Aber soll es sinnlos dahinwelken? Nein. Nein! Dieses letzte Pfand muss jeden meiner Kämpfe befeuern.

There is just one thing no one was given in abundance: life. The unique, finite life. But should it wither away meaninglessly? No. No! This final pledge needs to fuel every single of my battles.

I know you understand this. You and I are the same. Together, we could while away the quiet hours, as friend and confidant... if you will accept me.

Du begreifst diese Gedanken, nicht wahr? Denn du bist wie ich. Wir beide könnten Jagdkameraden sein. Willst du die Jagd an meiner Seite genießen?

You understand this thought, don’t you? Because you are like me. The two of us could be hunting comrades. Do you want to enjoy the hunt by my side?

“I accept you.”

Heh heh...are we to embrace and let bygones be bygones? Do our deeds weigh so little that you would cast all aside? Come. 'Twas plain from the first how this would end.

Heh heh heh... Als ob du deine Ach so hehren Ideale je ablegen würdest. Am Ende steht unvermeidlich der Kampf, das wissen wir beide.

Heh heh heh... As if you would put aside your oh-so honorable ideals. We both know that at the end inevitably combat awaits.

You live for these moments-- when all hangs in the balance... when the difference between life and death is but a single stroke.

Du lebst für diese Momente des atemlosen Schwebens. Gerade bevor das Gleichgewicht auf die eine oder andere Seite kippt; Sieg oder Niederlage, Leben oder Tod. Ist es nicht so?

You live for these moments of breathless levitation. Just before the balance tilts to one side or another; Victory or Defeat, Life or Death. Isn’t that so?

I live for them too! This is who we are, my friend! This is all we are! Ala Mhigo and Doma and Garlemald be damned!

Genau wie ich. Ach, nur dich würde ich mir zum Genossen nehmen. Wen interessiert Ala Mhigo, lass uns kämpfen!

Just like me. Oh, only you I would take as my companion. Who cares for Ala Mhigo, let us fight! (Fun fact: Genosse means companion, but can also be translated to bedfellow.)

We tower above the gods! You by your gift, I by my might!

Eine Kraft, die jeden Primae in seine Schranken weist. Dir wurde sie geschenkt, ich habe sie mir selbst errungen.

A power which reins in every primal. You were gifted with it, I took it through my own strength.

And before the Resonant the gods shall be made to kneel!

Und ich werde sie zur Vollendung führen als Bändiger der Götter!

And I shall lead it to perfection as Tamer of the Gods!

Hah...hah...hah... The hunter has indeed become the hunted.

Nghh... ahhh... hahh... der Jäger... wurde... zur Beute...

Nghh... ahhh... hahh... the hunter... has become... the prey.

And yet... there is only joy. Transcendent joy that I have never known. How invigorating, how... pure, this feeling.

Hah... Aber... Was für ein Kampf... Was für ein... Hochgefühl...

Hah... But... what a fight... such... exaltation...

(Lyse) Is that what this is all about? All the meaningless death and destruction? So you could feel something?

(Lyse) Hochgefühl? Du tickst ja nicht richtig! Weist du, wie viele Opfer dein Wahnsinn gefordert hat?

Exaltation? You’re crazy! Do you have any idea how many victims your madness claimed?

Meaningless? Men die that others may live. Those who survive are stronger for it.

Dummes Kind. Leben fordert Opfer. Nur wer dieses Gesetz versteht, kann wirklich leben.

Stupid child. Life demands sacrifices. Only those who understand this law can truly live.

Not that you could ever understand. To have stood upon this great stage of fools... to have played my part to perfection...

Aber dein Verständnis ist nicht von Belang. Meine Darbietung war meisterhaft. Durch den Einsatz unseres unersetzlichen Lebens zum Spektakel erhoben.

But your understanding is of no consequence. My performance was magnificent. Uplifted to a spectacle by putting our irreplacable lives at stake.

Oh, this... this moment... let it be enshrined for eternity. My heart... beating out of time... So clear, so vivid, so real... So real.

Mein Herz hat sich lange nach einem solchen Moment der Klarheit, der Lebendigkeit gesehnt. Kein weiterer Augenblick wird diesen übertreffen. So soll ihm auch kein weiterer folgen.

My heart has been yearning for such a moment of clarity, of liveliness, for so very long. No further moment will surpass this one. And as such, no more shall follow it.

(Alphinaud) Coward!

(Alphinaud) Er will sich umbringen!

He wants to kill himself!

(Lyse) Stop!

(Lyse) So kommst du uns nicht davon!

You’re not getting away from us like that!

Farewell, my first friend. My enemy.

Leb' wohl, mein einziger Freund. Mein Jäger.

Farewell, my only friend. My hunter.

#Final Fantasy XIV #Stormblood #Zenos Yae Galvus #Zenos #Final Fantasy #Spoilers #Obscure's Stuff #While he is a full blown nihilist in English #This feels different #Translations

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