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tamayula-hl · 5 months

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Headcanon about Sebastian and my mc, Sakurako

NOTE ･Sakurako is a Mary Sue-like character with an unrealistic personality. Reading is not recommended if you don't like Mary Sue-like OCs! ･It's very long. To be honest, all the descriptions of Sakurako are nothing more than a product of complacency for me. I am a little embarrassed to disclose my headcanon, which is filled with these particular settings and delusions...😳 ･Read from the top right in Japanese manga style. ･And again, please bear with my poor English🤣

Until admission to Hogwarts

In 1875, Sakurako was born into a former samurai family when the cherry trees (sakura) were in bloom. In Japan, the samurai society was abolished around 1868 and the samurai were forced to take the status of commoners. Sakurako's samurai-turned-commoner father became a successful trader and took young Sakurako and his family to Britain to get serious about the raw silk trade with Britain. (At the time, there was a thriving raw silk trade between the British and Japanese.)

Her father, who had a male-dominated mindset due to his birth in a samurai society, restricted her from academic opportunities that she did not need for a better marriage. Whenever she went out of the house, local children always made fun of her yellow skin. One day, after such a depressing life, with the sudden awakening of her magical powers, Sakurako received her Hogwarts acceptance letter and became a member of the Wizarding World, a place free of sexism and racism, where she had a fateful meeting with Sebastian and formed a warped love with him.

During the relationship quest with Sebastian

In my personal opinion, I consider Sebastian to be a very calculating character. Sebastian initially comes into contact with Sakurako as a means of breaking Anne's curse. Sakurako takes an early liking to the boy, Sebastian, who is very kind and helpful to her in her first time in the wizarding world, but it is around the 'In the shadow of the study' quest that Sebastian begins to take a liking to Sakurako. Having grown up watching her parents become arrogant new rich through their success in the trades, Sakurako has a desire to be a good person who is not conceited by her talents and luck. Impressed by the fact that the wizarding world is free from sexism and racism and that everyone treats her with openness, Sakurako is so excited that she takes on any request from anyone without refusal. Sakurako feels threatened by Sebastian's obsession with the relics after "In the shadow of the study", but she can't refuse Sebastian's request and continues to cooperate with him. Then came the tragedy of 'Avada Kedavra'.

After all is over, Sakurako realises how stupid she has been. She continued to help Sebastian (and the other students) out of kindness and goodwill, but as a result she realised that she was not a good person, but an arrogant monster with no sense of right and wrong. Sebastian's mistakes were all her fault, and she blamed herself from this moment until her death, and she would have lifelong thoughts of 'rewinding time and starting all over again'. Sakurako was deeply in love with Sebastian at this point, but out of remorse she tried to distance herself from him. However, Sebastian forcefully continued to contact Sakurako, confessed his fondness and they began dating.

About relationships

Elsewhere, Sakurako had established a friendship with Anne over a number of correspondence until tragedy struck, which was disrupted by Anne's disappearance after Solomon's death. In my headcanon, Sebastian heard the news of Anne's death in the seventh year, and Sakurako was also deeply saddened and even more remorseful when she heard of her death. Sakurako kept Anne's letters and the last letter she was unable to send to Anne for the rest of her life.

Subsequent relationship with Sebastian Since she and Sebastian have been seeing each other, Sakurako has been constantly worried that the love Sebastian has for her is not genuine love, but an obsession caused by the confusion and trauma of losing Anne. She was aware that their relationship was codependent, not healthy love, yet she spent her days loving Sebastian so much that she could not reject him. She dreads every day that one day Sebastian's love will disappear and he will instead resent her and saying 'Solomon's death was your fault'. When she is in the seventh year and thinking seriously about her future life, she finally decides to break up with Sebastian.

When Sebastian realised that Sakurako was acting strangely and that she wanted to break up with him, he asked her to marry him in The Great Hall at a crowded time, in front of many people watching, in a situation where she could not say 'no'. As per Sebastian's cunning intentions, Sakurako is unable to reject Sebastian and becomes engaged to him. However, even after her engagement, Sakurako's insecurities were not exhausted. Worried that she would never be happy even if she married him in an unhealthy codependent state, Sakurako finally came to her senses and, after secretly returning the engagement ring in Sebastian's bag after the graduation ceremony, disappeared without saying anything to him. Sakurako then went to Japan and spent her days learning about Japanese native magic, which she had long been interested in. However, after about a year, she is discovered by Sebastian. After Sebastian apologises for how selfish he had been, he asks Sakurako to marry him again. After a few days of deliberation and discussion with Sebastian, Sakurako accepts his engagement with a smile.

(This is an Illustration I drew for a previous Twitter post introducing the MC's image song) Afterwards, Sakurako returned to Britain and officially married Sebastian, giving birth to their first daughter the following year, and then to male and female twins the year after that.

About the death of Sakurako Sakurako became Unspeakable of the Department of Mysteries shortly after returning to Britain. https://harrypotter.fandom.com/wiki/Department_of_Mysteries#Early_history It is official canon in the Wizarding World that the Department of Mysteries conducted time travel experiments in the 1890s and then had a serious time accident in 1899. I have built on this canon to create a head canon in which Sakurako dies in 1899.

Ever since the tragedy of 1890, Sakurako had been harbouring a wish to 'go back in time and do it all over again so that Sebastian would not make the same mistakes'. Then, she is asked by the other Unspeakables to help them with a time travel experiment using her ancient magical powers. She understands that it is a dangerous experiment, but with a strong desire to redo the past, she accepts the request and takes part in the experiment.

Then one day in 1899, Sakurako was involved in a time accident with Madam Mintumble and her existence was lost. The Department of Mysteries determined that she had died in the chasm of time.

When Sebastian heard the news of his wife's death, he despaired violently, but had no time to grieve as he had the three young children Sakurako had left behind to look after. He vowed to raise them well on his own. After his wife's death, Sebastian, who had been active in the outside world as an Auror, moved inside work and, after the twins entered Hogwarts, became a Professor of Charm, watching over his precious children as they grew up.

The consequences for Sebastian and Sakurako I consider an even more specific headcanon for Sakurako: 'She survived only her soul by the power of an ancient magic, losing her memory and trapped in an endless loop of time'.

She loses her memory but somehow survives with only her soul and travels back in time to 1890 with only her soul for her obsessive wish to 'start all over again for Sebastian'. But because she has lost her memory, she ends up repeating the same mistakes and is unable to save Sebastian, despairing and wishing to 'start all over' again. Trapped in the Ouroboros circle of time and tormented by eternal guilt… is the headcanon about her. (I love novels and movies about time leaps and infinite loops… 😳) But I also have two possible outcomes when she is able to escape the endless loop. The first is route A. If Sakurako is able to time leap without losing her memories.

(I like Butterfly Effect soooooo much!!!!!!!!) During that fateful encounter with Sebastian at DADA on her first day of transfer, when he spoke to her after class, she rejected him and said terrible things to him. Sakurako thinks that that tragedy happens because she and Sebastian have become friends, so she tries to save him by making Sebastian hate her… and so the ending goes.

And Route B. If by the power of love she accidentally escapes from the infinite loop and travels back in time to a world 100 years later. (Never mind the details. The power of love is powerful in the Wizarding World, right?)

She is miraculously reunited with Sebastian, who has been surviving and waiting for her return for all of a hundred years… and that is the ending. Having fulfilled his purpose in life, Sebastian soon dies, and Sakurako's soul, weakened by multiple time slips, also ascends.

In any case, Sebastian and Sakurako do not end up completely happy… which is my preference. I love tragic love stories 😂 But it's nice to see these tragic couples having fun in extra episodes and so on!

(The drawing on the left is part of a cartoon I drew when the Sebastian T-shirt was decided to be launched. The drawing on the right is a parody/trace of a meme that used to be popular in Japan)

These are my headcanons on Sebastian and Sakurako! I'm honestly embarrassed to reveal my brain fantasies 😳. Thanks so much for taking the time to read this long post! 😭💓 The following are the Japanese versions!

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fanart #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow fanart #hogwarts legacy mc

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tearskillstardust · 5 months

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🦢 CHERRY—

summary; wanderer is a bit love-sick, but it's so much more than that.

gender-neutral reader but once i mention 'divine feminine'. no trigger warnings. angst and emotional content. long read under the cut.

Oftentimes when he has little else to do, Wanderer excuses himself to rest near the small ponds of Sumeru. It isn't that he has any particular affection for water bodies or any attachment of sorts, it's just that he has nowhere else to go. It's almost funny actually— how he is completely vibing with his name.

Nahida had objected subtly to it once, 'Our names decide our fates,' and looked at him knowingly. But he merely averted his gaze. he had wanted to question her, 'A puppet can never be more than a wanderer no matter the riches or love it has, don't you know that?', but he maintained his silence; and the desert's too.

No matter what everyone around him seems to think of him, there is no denying the truth that he is a deep thinker. He had thought long before he had chosen that name for himself for when he was about to join the fatui, he had asked himself, what name would he choose had he an option? although all kinds of fancy names came by the end, the first one never left his mind— Wanderer.

There was such simplicity in that name it made it hard to believe that it was one in the first place— yet it seemed to cover his whole life from start to end with a quite plausible summary. He had wandered his whole life— for love, for life and then for survival.

He was not bound by mortal rules and bounds. He was not born of flesh and womb— he was born of energy and divinity. He was clan-less, nameless, identity-less. You could not put him in a box because he refused— like a fire, he only spread whereas the world could spectate only, as it watched his dancing flames with equal measures of fear and awe.

And then there was you. The thorn at the side. The vessel of mortal characters.

He used to be genuinely pissed off at you. At your humanity. At your love and adoration for nature and life, at the way everything and everyone was just so beautiful in your perspective. At how you could see beyond the pessimisms of life into its beauty and serenity. At how you loved the iridescence of dragonfly wings, the smell of paint, the foliage of summer leaves, the dew-wet monsoon grass— how everything, even the most useless one seemed to hold meaning to you.

'Cherry,' you had answered him when he first asked for your name— he was a harbinger back then, the bringer of misfortune. His gaze had been on your vision, the shiny green orb at your side and he had missed your name. 'Oh, I got distracted. Could you please repeat?'

'Cherry.'

What a stupid name.

Meaningless, common and as useless as a leaf on the wind— it could not narrate the story of the tree it once came from, it did not know of autumn, spring, summer and winter now that it had died. Such was your name on you.

You were far from being 'Cherry'. You were the cool mountain breeze, the rush of spring waters on mountain peaks, the distant laugh of lovers coming from the next room, the veil that hides the beauty of the bride, the sheen and shine of rose gold jewels, the falling autumn leaf with its last lesson and sweet kiss. Divinity poured like urns from your essence into your eyes— creating a canvas of spilled gold and sunshine on your features.

'Are you divine by birth?'

You laughed and he cowered from the way the sun seemed to shine brighter at your blooming mirth. 'No!'

The world seemed to have come falling down.

'What?'

You cocked a brow. 'Boring name? Well, let's talk about yours. Sounds like the name of a cheap dancer in a cheaper bar.'

His eyes widened. Nobody talked to him that way.

'Tell me. Why is your name Scaramouche?'

He detached entirely from you thereupon— but his curiosity never died. The worst part was that he could not bear to be cruel to you however hard he tried. He could not find himself ordering his guards to drag you down to his steps or go there and bring you down himself. And it was not just metaphorical; he knew you were born a warrior.

He knew it from the way your lotus-coloured yet calloused hands held your sword in such a determined way, whereas your other hand patted the head of a child as you smiled at them kindly.

You chose to be kind, in spite of being fully capable of destruction. You were not harmless— he had seen you fight once— the entire field had been littered with venom spit from your hands and blade, while your hands sizzled slightly. He had felt a pang of fear and guilt— for he saw himself in your battle-crazed eyes, but he could not bring himself to recognize the much kinder expression you made afterwards.

And the best part? Whenever you used venom to fight, which in itself was a rare occurrence, you always left part of it in your hands. 'So that it reminds me of the truth of pain and death,' you answered when he questioned the act. But there was not an inch of pain or regret in your voice. You had chosen to punish yourself— no wisdom or sense of morality had forced you into it.

And then all of a sudden, once again, everyone and everything he was familiar with was snatched away from his grasp. He was left a wriggling snake once again. He almost laughed when he realized the metaphor he had just used— he was not made a snake by circumstance, he was merely made to realize it.

He thought of you sometimes when he sat down in thought. 'A mortal,' he would think, 'who could harbour such kindness and peace of the soul in spite of being so much aware of their own twilight existence.'

He was in awe every time. He was not scared of your overpowering divine feminine anymore— he recognized and admired it. He thought of your battle-scarred hands that were almost always outstretched in an act of charity.

You were like the eagle of the sky— powerful, majestic, graceful. But under the veil of greatness that was draped on you, you were a lover at heart. A lover of the sky who beats its wings against the harshest of rocks upon the highest of peaks until every single feather falls off so that new ones can grow— a lover who would rather risk death then be separated from the sky.

And he? He was a snake. The snake that lives miles and miles below the very mountain peak you live at— who watches from its cavern with desire. But it's just a snake at the end of the day; It is not a lover or anyhow 'great' or divine or noble. It can only watch as the eagle, its most desired one, flies and conquers peak to peak, whereas it can only hope it would be blessed with death and reconciliation the moment the eagle sights it.

And then once again he would be slapped by the realization that you were a mortal and he was the divinity.

Wanderer watches as the water in the pond ripples slightly— and almost thinks the lily pads are laughing. When he turns to stare at the creeping orchids, they almost seem to mock him.

'Oh, they used to be such a good friend!', Candace happily said, conversing with Kaveh and Nilou. Wanderer stood behind Kaveh who was talking to them animatedly. Kaveh, whom he had recently taken a slight liking to, had dragged him here, saying he would like him to meet an old companion. He listened, yawning at times.

'Where's your friend?', Wanderer questioned before smirking, 'Did they run back to where they were coming from because they were told they were going to meet you?'

'No,' Kaveh smiled back sarcastically, 'They must have found out I was going to bring you along.'

Wanderer hissed slightly whereas Kaveh cackled with amusement. Candace shut them up with a quick movement of her wrist, 'Look there they come!'

When Wanderer turned, the sight made his brain stop working. His throat felt as though he had swallowed a plank of wood and his mouth was dry.

'What's their name?'

'Were you not listening? That's Cherry!'

He could cry.

And he was so sure he did, but he was lucky nobody paid him attention for some times after that. You were the source of everyone's joy as they all hugged you and chattered away excitedly, giving him enough time to calm down.

'Holy shit! I almost forgot! Cherry, this is my friend, the Wanderer!'

His heart skipped a beat. Although he knew you wouldn't, some part of him hoped you would recognize him as the harbinger that tucked a cecilia in your hair. No wait, the boy that tucked a cecilia in your hair.

But you just smiled, and for him, it was more than enough. 'Hello Wanderer, I am Cherry.'

He tried to smile back but couldn't. One question remained stuck at the back of his mind.

He sucked in a deep breath and slightly tilted his head to the side.

'Why is your name Cherry?'

You laughed, the ringing melody and the sun shone vivaciously as it always did when you did that. At this point, he was almost certain that even the sky loved its eagle so much that it stepped up at every chance to enhance its divinity.

'Why is your name Wanderer?'

It struck a chord.

'Why is your name Scaramouche?'

He smiled this time but he didn't have to remind himself or ease himself into it; it came as naturally to him as love for you came to the sky.

This was going to be a long journey.

my first character-specific post! let me know if anything's wrong or if it could be better! also, i will represent different characters with different emojis in fics. so, swan = wanderer! they/them can always be replaced with he/she, i just want to keep the content inclusive. my love to @yuyukami

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very-lonely-ghost · 5 months

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Samurai and a Wrighter

Parring: Modern! Mizu x Foreign! Elish teacher! Fem! reader - non established relationship

Warning: Not proofread, SFW, Fluff, Mizu motioned as a guy,

About: you move to Japan to become an English teacher. One day you meet Mizu. You both form a strong bond that one day blooms into something more.

Word count: 1.4k

A/N: Hellooooo Thank you for the idea. I made it more into a story then head canons, so I hope you like it Thank you and let me know if you want more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You moved to Japan to become an English teacher at a small school. In your spare time you were a journalist. You liked living in Japan though you had only been there for about only 2 ½ months. You had learned Japanese before moving but almost every day you learned a new world from the locals in the small town you work in.

Whenever you journaled, you had a place in the woods you would always go to. There was a grand cherry blossom tree that you loved and a river going almost all away around it in the opening. It was beautiful and you loved it.

Though one day you meet a person.

~~~

It was a normal Saturday as you sat under the grand cherry blossom tree writing. It was the cherry blossom season, so the blossoms of the tree were beautiful. You took pictures and a few of the fallen flowers and had put it in your journal that you were now writing in.

You sat there listening to the sound of the animals and the calm river running. After a minute or two you hear someone. You looked up from your writing to see a person. They were carrying a sword and had their hair tied up.

For a moment you got a bit nervous that they were going to attack you.

“Ummm… Hello, may I help you” You spoke to them in Japanese, stuttering a bit.

They looked at you through their orange tinted glasses and were a bit surprised to see you there. They stopped walking and just looked at you. They tilled their head at you as if surprised that you spoke Japanese.

“I- umm… you're not here to hurt me right” You asked nervously of what they were goanna do with the sword. They followed your line of sight to the sword and then understood.

_________Pov Shift

Mizu had walked to the clearing to practice training. Something she hadn't done in a while being too busy. When she arrived there, she didn’t expect someone to be there.

As she walked into the clear she saw a girl. A very pretty girl she had to admit. Though she could tell you weren’t born in Japan. Based on (Skin tone), (hair color), and (eye color). Though all of those things caught her attention in a way.

I- umm… you're not here to hurt me right” The person spoke out. As she followed their line of sight, she realized she was carrying a weapon in her hand.

“Oh no I'm not goanna hurt you I was just coming here to train.” Mizu responded to their question. It seemed to put them at ease.

“Do you want me to move so you can train?” The girl asked out to her.

“Ummm nah you're all good. Maybe you could give me some motivation.” Mizu responds playfully.

_________Pov Shift

The tips of your ear turned a light shade of red as they said that. You couldn’t help it; they were very pretty, and they just said that. Though you just met this person god damn it there is something about them.

“May I ask your name, Samurai?” You called out. The nickname matches with the blade that they held in hand.

_________Pov Shift

Mizu didn’t expect the nickname; she was a bit taken aback by it.

“Mizu” She responded to the girl's question.

“Mizu” She said, pondering. “Mizu, like water. That's a pretty name” They smiled at her.

“Yeah, I guess” Mizu said a little waver in her voice from the complement. “What's yours?” She asked.

_________Pov Shift

“Y/N” You said.

“Y/n? It matches you” The person you know as Mizu said. Though there was something about how they said your name that made you breath hitch for a second.

~~~

After that day the both of you became good friends. Best friends as you would say but Mizu isn’t into that type of stuff. The both of you did everything together even eventually moving in together.

Though this time feelings were starting to be fluid. Though Mizu was a girl as you found out it didn’t drive you away and Mizu appreciated it.

Also, whenever you had trouble with something whether it be chopsticks or words, she always helped you. She was so soft with you, and it made you feel safe.

There were sometimes when she visited your class so you students could learn about what it's like to wield the blade for their story they were writing.

~~~

“Hay Samurai” You say never forget the nickname. Mizu looked over to you from her spot at the table eating.

“What's up?” She responded before eating more of her food.

“Could you come to my class tomorrow pleassss????” You asked her with the best puppy dog eyes you could.

“Why would I” She said before she met your eyes.

________Pov Shift

Fuck the puppy eyes. Mizu was a sucker for their eyes, not being able to say no.

“Well, I gave them an assignment for writing in English about writing a story about samurai. I know you aren’t like a full one but please. They would love it.” They plead to her. Even without them explaining she would have done it with those stupid eyes.

“Ok I’ll Go” She said, shaking her head.

_________Pov Shift

You started dancing around in excitement at Miu agreeing to go.

“HURRAYYYY Thank you Mizuuuuu” You said before quickly kissing her on the cheek and running off.

___Pov shift

Mizu was shocked at what you just did. She put her hand to where y/n kissed her as blush took over her face. They had never done that before. Does that mean? Noooo it couldn’t, right???

—---------------(Time Skip)

You and Mizu walked to your classroom. You buzzed existent as Mizu looked at you smiling still with the thoughts of what happened last night in her head.

As the classes started you introduced Mizu and let your students and then gave them time to work on their writing. It went pretty well.

Once when classes were changed and Mizu was saying goodbye to the student, one of them had asked Mizu if she was their Husband. Mizu bushed a bit at the idea but told the kid no and sent them on the way.

The day went on without any trouble. Though Mizu was deep in thought about you for some of it.

~~~

After that day the only thing Mizu could think of was you. It also didn’t help that she saw you every single day. She tried to push her feelings to the side, but they kept coming back. She didn’t know what to do so she thought for a long time till she had an idea.

~~~

“Mizu, where are you taking me?” You asked Mizu as she led you somewhere.

“A special place” She responds, holding you hand as she guides you through the woods.

She led you by the hand till you all got to spot then regretfully letting go of your hand.

“You can look now” You took off the blonde fold which was a bandana. You looked around to see Mizu holding a bouquet of (favorite flowers). Around her you could notice it was the place where you met each other.

“Will- Will you be my Girlfriend?” She asked, blushing creeping up to her face.

You couldn't control yourself as you ran to her smiling big and hugging her. She even stumbled a bit back and made sure you didn’t crush the flowers.

“Yess Yess a thousand times yessss!!!!” you cheered in her arms. Mizu smiled at your acceptance and let you over to a little place she made.

Under the Cherry blossom tree there was a little pile of blankets and comfy things and fair lights all around. It was so cute and made your heart feel warm.

You both sat down with Mizu’s laptop and watched a movie. You were both comfortably in each other's arms. Slowly sleep started to take over you as you fell asleep in Mizu’s arms.

You felt her kiss your head and whispers...

“Good night my Writer” You could hear the smile in her voice as she said it.

“Good night my Samurai.” You said in a tired voice. With that you fell asleep as Mizu held you as tightly in her arms, never wanting to let go of you.

Her Writer

You Samurai

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thannnnnnk you I hope you liked it I did my best and again let me know if you want. more.

#love #blue eye samurai #mizu #mizu x reader #fluff #lonely ghost #new #crush x reader #mizu blue eye samurai #the blue eyed samurai #mizu x y/n #mizu x you #samurai #writer #english #fem!reader

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rune-writes · 3 months

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Ephemerality

Fandom: Love and Deepspace

Word count: 1827

Rating: G

Pairing: Xavier/MC

Summary: In the outskirts of Linkon City, there is a park listed as one of the Top Ten Romantic Parks of Linkon City. Xavier invites MC out for a Valentine's Day date.

Notes: A belated Happy Valentine's Day~

I wanted to write a cute Xavier/MC fic for Valentine's, but alas, I could only finish it now, and... it ends up not being very Valentine-y either haha.

Read on AO3.

~*~*~*~*~*~

“Mind your step.”

Xavier offered his hand as we came to a slope, pebbles rolling loosely over a steep incline. It wasn’t particularly treacherous. At least, not for me. I was a Hunter, and I was equipped with hiking boots and pants. A measly slope couldn’t outdo me. So I ignored his hand and said, “I can manage just f—” I couldn’t finish my sentence before I felt my foot slip.

The wind rushed out of me and the world upended—

Xavier caught my wrist and pulled me up, giving me leverage to fix my posture and land on his side. I gasped, heart racing within my ribcage.

“What did I tell you?” he said. His voice was carefully leveled, but when I chanced a glance, I caught the mirth behind his pressed lips. His eyes couldn’t lie.

“Thanks,” I said tartly.

He released a playful scoff under his breath, then shifted his hold to my hand, his long fingers enveloping mine in a secure grasp. His smile finally on full display, he said, “Don’t let go now.”

Any counter or retort I had ready evaporated instantly at sight of his disarming face.

This hike had been his idea. Well, mine if we’re talking about technicalities, but I had only made a passing comment on a passing article I was reading—Top Ten Romantic Parks in Linkon City. I knew most of the ones listed; some were popular spots in the city proper even for single people, which I had been one until recently. The tenth one on the list, however, was a place I had never heard of. A clearing out on the hills in the outskirts of the city; it was a hike at the end of an hour train ride. I’d asked Xavier if he knew the place.

“I do. I often pass by it on my way home,” he’d replied. I had learned not to pry exactly where he had gone. As far as I knew, there weren’t any no-hunt zones in the area. He’d leaned over the couch and I’d shown him my phone. He’d nodded, confirming the place. “It’s a bit far, and you need to climb a fair distance. I can see why it’s not a popular date spot.”

“It looks pretty,” I’d said, looking back at my phone. Rosalea Park: a fenced-in clearing with beautiful cherry-blossom trees overlooking the entire city. It’d make a perfect spot for flower viewing, if they were in the cherry blossom season. I’d looked at the panoramic photographs the writer had attached before I closed the tab and noticed Xavier’s gaze. I’d met his eyes.

“Do you want to go there?” he’d asked.

And so our plan had been born. Fast forward one week later, I now found myself holding Xavier’s hand as he led me down the trail with groups of cherry-blossom trees flanking us on both sides. It’d take another month or so to see the pink buds bloom and grace the crown of every tree on this hill. Apparently, some decades ago, someone had planted an entire grove of cherry blossoms on the hills outside Linkon, providing the citizens a magnificent view when spring came around. I liked to watch them from the window of my apartment. It was like being surrounded by an endless, undulating pink sea. Magical. But the flowers didn’t last long. The blooms would fall once the season passed and be replaced by an ocean of verdant green. But that would take another couple weeks. Now, however, the trees around us bore white flowers, small and delicate, creating a sort of mystical mirage with their ephemeral beauty.

I gazed at them, transfixed. I didn’t realize Xavier’s stare until I heard his breathy laugh.

“Do you like them?” he asked.

“They’re pretty.” I reached up and caught a falling petal on my palm. “They remind me of you.”

“How so?”

“They’re quite hardy, and they foretell the coming of spring,” I said. “But they’re also brittle. A single touch could make them fall from their branch. Blink once and you’d miss the beauty they offer.”

He paused, then said, “Do I seem brittle to you then?”

I looked up and met his backward glance. I couldn’t quite read the expression on his face. I didn’t think my nonchalant observation would catch his attention. But then a breeze caught the petal in my palm and I watched it dance in the wind alongside other loose flowers. One landed on Xavier’s head, and I giggled, reaching up to brush it away.

“You’re not brittle,” I told him as I picked the stray petal from his hair. Holding it between my thumb and forefinger, it quivered as the wind fought to keep it aloft. And then it broke free, and I felt a part of me fly away with it. “You’re…elusive. I fear that if I close my eyes, you’ll be gone from my side.”

Xavier didn’t break his gaze away from me. I looked ahead and found that we’d reached the edge of the treeline. I tugged his hand, urging him to go faster. And then we were outside, and the view took my breath away.

We were at the top of a hill: Rosalea Hill, judging from the sign they’d propped just outside the line of trees. But the trail didn’t stop there. It went on past the sign and into the clearing, winding around a plethora of flowerbeds in circles, squares, or crescent shapes. A mingle of scents greeted my senses. It felt like I was back in the flower shop Xavier liked to visit, except the smell was richer here, the colors more abundant and vibrant.

We weren’t the only ones visiting the park either. Couples were already setting up picnic mats and several were taking pictures on the benches or by the wall overlooking the city. I let go of Xavier’s hand and rushed over to it, leaning over and peering down the stone structure. We were so high; the park ended in a steep slope that could easily break someone’s neck were they to fall over. Or, well, at the very least sprain their ankle. The slope wasn’t too sheer that your feet couldn’t find purchase, but I could imagine someone slipping over the terrain.

Like I had just moments before, to my mortification.

Xavier entered my line of sight and I grinned up at him. “Look,” I said, pointing at the entrance to the hiking trail at the bottom of the hill. “That’s where we came in, huh?”

“It appears so.”

”Doesn’t seem like this place is unpopular,” I added, noting the crowd that was still trickling into the entrance.

Xavier chuckled. “I never said it’s unpopular. I only said it might not be a popular date spot.”

Well, there were a lot of couples. Either Xavier was wrong, or they’d all fallen victim to the same article I’d read.

I followed the road, all its winding way back to the nearby train station, then finally to the city in the distance. Under the sun, Linkon City’s numerous skyscrapers glinted brilliantly, towers upon glass towers piercing the sky all the way to where Skyhaven hung with its gilded spires. I could spot the parks—clusters of little green dots sandwiched between rows of buildings. I could hazard a guess where our apartment was, though I couldn’t very well see the building from so far away. I saw the river, a sparkling blue line winding through the settlement, cutting right at the heart and finally draining into the sea beyond. Pristine ivory shores rimmed the city’s western edge.

The place where I grew up looked so different from above. So serene and timeless, as though we had crossed over a threshold and were now gazing at a frozen sculpture. “It’s so beautiful,” I said breathlessly. Too beautiful, in fact. I couldn’t help the slight pang in my heart knowing that one day, things would change.

I pushed myself from the wall and took a few steps back, breathing in the scent, absorbing the view. I might have stayed like that for all eternity if I hadn’t heard the shutter of a camera going off. I looked to my right and saw Xavier directing his phone camera at me. He smiled sheepishly at being caught.

“Let me borrow your phone,” he said, stashing his away.

I blinked. “What for?”

He didn’t say anything, only held out his hand in silent inquiry. I indulged him, fishing my phone from my bag and placing it on his palm.

“Now come here.” He drew me to his side, maneuvered us so that we had our backs to the city, then directed my phone at us to take a selfie picture. “Smile.”

The shutter went off again.

Even with the impromptu nature, it was still a pretty good picture. He managed to capture the city in the distance while also still capturing our smiles. He fiddled around with my phone for a while longer before giving it back to me. I looked at the screen—

—and realized he’d changed my home screen wallpaper to the photo he’d just taken.

“Now even if you close your eyes, I’ll always be by your side.”

I stared at my phone, then at his cheeky smile. “I want another one.”

“What?”

“It’s not good enough. Better yet, I’ll just take a picture of you ‘cause you already took mine.”

“Wait—”

I pushed him to the wall, had him pose for me several times. After a while, Xavier could only smile in resign.

“Happy now?” he asked after his photo session ended. “You know, I only took one photo of you.”

“And I took five.” I scrolled through my album. I couldn’t quite keep the grin out of my face. He looked so handsome in his jacket and turtleneck, and so cute when he pouted at the last picture because I couldn’t decide what pose I wanted him to do. I decided to use that for my homescreen wallpaper instead.

“Why are you grinning at a picture when the real one is in front of you?”

I glanced up, and true enough, the hint of a pout was already forming again in his otherwise poker face. I beamed from ear to ear. “Oh please, as if you wouldn’t look at my picture when I’m not looking.”

His response was a guilty, breathy laugh.

I grabbed his hand and led him away from the wall to a quieter area. “Come on, then. Let’s set up our picnic mat. I made a lot of delicious meals this morning. I can’t wait for you to try them.”

Later, Xavier told me that the park was even more romantic at night. They had lights stringed around the flower beds, and around the paths and walls as well. Like artificial fireflies, he said. He promised to take me here again to see it. Perhaps, when the cherry blossoms were in full bloom.

~ END ~

#love and deepspace #xavier #xavier love and deepspace #love and deepspace xavier #l&ds #lads #lnds #l&ds xavier #lads xavier #l&ds fic #xavier fic #lads fic #fanfiction #lnds fanfic

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a-world-of-whimsy-5 · 25 days

Text

Changes afoot

Day 3 prompts: Family | Loyalty

For: @silmarillionepistolary

Rating: General Audience

Characters: Maedhros, Fingon, Nerdanel, Maglor

Epistolary format: Journal entries and letters

Themes: Soft | Fluff | Hints of Russingon

Warnings: None

Wordcount: 2.2k words

Summary: Fingon writes to Maedhros telling him to expect a visitor. A feast is held in honor of this guest, and both Maedhros and Maglor write their observations of what takes place before and after it begins. Maedhros later writes to his mother about their new guest, and his fears about his father.

A/n: OC name meaning

Indilien, wife of Maglor - Indil (Lily) | ien (suf. feminine ending; feminine patronymic).

This is also available on AO3

Letter from Findekáno to Nelyafinwë

249th day of Y.T. 1492.—

Beloved,—

I trust I have not wounded you by my delay in sending this letter, for my tasks have been many of late. Father cloisters himself often with my uncle, talking, but I fear such talk will bear little fruit. My uncle has grown weary of the many quarrels between your father and mine; he wants no part in them, and I am beginning to think he is wise to keep away. My mother, however, is afraid. She believes this all portends to some dark and terrible doom that is yet to reveal itself, but my father does his best to comfort her, saying all will be well in the end. Perhaps he is right, but my mother’s words weigh heavily on my thoughts. What if she is correct and my father is wrong? What if there is something dark and dreadful hiding in the shadows, biding its time until it is ready to consume us all? I try not to think too much about such matters, and I will write no more on them. Morgoth’s lies have already poisoned what we once had, and I will not give him the power to taint what we have slowly begun to rebuild.

The cherry trees are in full bloom. My mother’s garden is aflame with brilliant little white flowers. Soon, that white will give way to crimson fruit. Do you remember, my love, how we would lie beneath those flowers while the others were away? How we admired the stars and talked and laughed and loved each other without a care in this world? I still go to those trees and lie beneath their laden branches. I think of your hand over mine, your lips warm against my own. I try to make myself content with the memories of you and me, but I find it is not enough for me. I will try anyway and bear up as much as I can until your father is released from his exile and I can take you into my arms again.

Yours in all things,

Finno.”

P.S.—My love, pray do not allow your heart to grow troubled when you find this letter being borne to you on swift wings. A change is afoot, and whether it is for good or bad, I cannot say. A visitor rides for Formenos even as I write this letter, and you will see them standing before the gates of the great keep your family calls home soon enough.

Letter from Nelyafinwë to Findekáno

251st day of Y.T. 1491.—

Beloved,—

I am not wounded in the least, my love, by the delay in your last letter. You are your father’s oldest, his heir. You cannot shirk your duties toward your family; it is something I understand. I must confess, your forewarning has roused my curiosity as to who this visitor might be, but I will not press you for more on their identity. We will learn of it soon enough, and we have room enough to spare in Formenos for a great many people. I hope my father will be pleased with this intrusion into our lives. Few things bring him joy now, save for us and the hallowed jewels. Forgive me for not writing more on this score. Fëanáro is my father after all, and he would not think highly if I revealed too much of his struggles to you.

I, too, think of the blissful moments you and I spent beneath the branches of those cherry trees. Sometimes, I sit by the window of my bedchamber and look at the sky and the many stars that adorn it. I think of the stars you and I would try to name whenever we caught sight of one we had not seen before. Then I wonder if you are looking at the heavens at the exact same moment as I am and if you are looking at the same stars as I am. I feel your absence so keenly, my love. I cannot rest or eat, or set my eyes on any task; you are a constant in my thoughts. I will try to endure our separation as much as I can until this dreadful exile is over and we can see each other again. Pray do not allow yourself to be troubled by talk of dark portends and signs of doom. Morgoth’s treachery has been exposed, and we are whole and well. Once we are reunited, I intend to show you that you had no cause for fear.

Written by the hand of he who loves you,

Nelyo.

Maitimo Nelyafinwë’s journal

258th day of Y.T. 1491— Just as my beloved wrote in his letter,a visitor rode up to the gates when Telperion reached his greatest bloom. It was grandfather, no less. He decided to come to Formenos and live with us after father sent him word of its completion. Other members of his household, his steward and household guard, and other servants mostly came with him.

Father was delighted. “Our family is now complete again!” He cried and embraced his father, our king. “Just as it should be! Come, my lord. Come with me, and I will take you to your chambers, so you can rest.”

Grandfather was just as pleased, though I thought it all rather strange. He left his queen and their children in Tirion and followed my father into exile. True, his other children were all grown and they were no longer elflings in need of a father’s guiding hand, but it still left a strange taste in my mouth to see grandfather leaving his other family behind so easily. And it must have wounded Uncle Arakáno to see my grandfather choose my own father yet again. Still, I kept my own counsel; now was neither the time nor the place for such questions. It would darken everyone’s mood—my father’s chief of all. Nevertheless, I will still listen to what they say; perhaps I will hear something useful.

Father commanded that we have a great feast in honor of grandfather’s arrival. There would be fine wine and delicate pastries, roasted deer and boar, and even fish caught from a nearby lake. Káno and his bride will sing and play the harp for us. Our little songbird and his wife, the Lady Indilien, ensconce themselves in their chambers, composing music and a series of verses in honor of the occasion. Once, I stopped by the door to listen. Káno was singing, and his lady strummed the harp for him while he did so. What I heard moved my heart in a way I could not imagine. My brother truly is the most gifted among minstrels—he is an elf who could rival the Vala ómar himself.

His skill with the sword also improves. I teach him as much as I can; one never knows when one will need the use of one, now that Morgoth has escaped and returned to Endorë. During the first mingling of the lights, we make our way to the sparring yard before our other brothers have even opened their eyes, and engage in swordplay. Lady Indilien often joins us, but only to watch. My sister-by-marriage has little interest in hunting and fighting; music and singing are her greatest delights. She keeps herself content by sitting on the side and cheering for her husband. Káno made a wise choice, I think, by taking the lady to be his wife. She is patient and uncommonly kind, traits my brother desires greatly. I pray their marriage will be a happy one and that no misfortune darkens their doors. Now I must set aside my quill and ink. The hour of the feast is almost at hand, and I must prepare myself for it.

Makalaurë Kanafinwë’s journal

259th day of Y.T. 1491— The feast was splendid. Everyone dressed in their finest robes, and even Tyelko conducted himself in a manner befitting a lord of high birth and rank for once. The cooks surprised us all by setting a tasty table. There were rich stews, soft bread, and fresh fruit, as well as meat and mead and wine for anyone who desired them. Father said little. It displeased him to hear that my uncle Arakáno now rules Tirion as its regent, for it was supposed to be him ruling in grandfather's stead, not his half-brother. Nevertheless, his mood revived not long after. Grandfather joining us in exile cheered him in no small measure. Perhaps he thinks that this is yet another victory over my uncle, another sign of how he will be first in grandfather’s eyes even when he is in exile, even after he threatened my uncle’s life. I like it not. Strife within our family grows day by day, and I fear it bodes ill for us all. My lady urges me to take no part in the quarrels of others. Alas! If only I could do such a thing. Fëanáro is my father. He is my father, and I love him just as much as I love my mother. I must, however, hold onto the hope that he will free himself of his anger and resentments and that our family can be whole again once this dreary exile of ours is at an end. Now I must go. There is something father wishes to show all of us.

Letter from Nelyafinwë to Nerdanel

261st day of Y.T. 1491.—

Beloved mother,—

We were told of uncle Arakáno’s change of station. Pray offer him felicitations on my behalf, and tell him I wish him nothing but success.

Mother, you will be pleased to hear that grandfather arrived safely and that all is well with him. There was a splendid feast. Káno sang for us, as did Lady Indilien. You should have heard them. They sounded so sweet together. Everyone cheered and asked them to sing and play for us again. The day after the feast, father took us to the cave that was found during the building of Formenos, and threw open high, iron doors to reveal a great vault.

“After toiling many a day, it is now finished,” he declared with a great flourish, and he led us inside. Father had labored over the vault in secret, and none of us witnessed its transformation until he opened the doors for us. I wish I could write more on its many aspects, but father forbade us from doing so. Forgive me for saying this, mother, but father’s sense of mistrust has deepened even more. He bid Lady Indilien to wait outside while he brought forth the silmarils. Káno was ill at ease with this, for father’s wish sounded more like an order and less like a kindly appeal one would make to another. Still, he held his tongue, perhaps for his lady’s sake. Lady Indilien, however, did not seem to be offended by father’s command.

“It is quite all right, my love,” she said, squeezing Káno's hand. “I am content to wait outside.”

After she took her leave of us, father revealed the hallowed jewels. They were as glorious as always, and their radiance was a wonder to behold.

“My greatest work,” father said, lifting them one by one for us to admire. Each jewel glittered like they possessed the light of a thousand stars, and their light shone like gold and then silver, and they bewitched us all with their beauty. “They must be guarded at all times, for never again shall I make anything to match their likeness and glory.”

We admired them one final time before father returned them to their secret chamber. The vault felt strangely darker in their absence, and the air grew a little colder. Then father rejoined us, and we departed.

Write to me when you can, mother. I long to hear more from you and of the great city I once called home.

Your son,

Nelyo.

Letter from Nerdanel to Nelyafinwë

263rd day of Y.T. 1491.—

My son.—

The days seem to last longer here in Tirion. Perhaps it is because I am here, and you are all in Formenos. I miss you all so very much, but it heartens me to know your father is not alone, and you are all with him.

I rejoice to hear that Lord Finwë is safe and that his journey was without trouble. I have also passed on your kind words to your uncle; it lightened his heart to hear them. His task is not an easy one; the lies and false counsels of Lord Morgoth hold sway over many hearts, and discontent is still strong. We help him as much as we can to ease the many burdens that have been placed on his shoulders.

Queen Indis has taken her place as one of my students, and she is proving herself to be an apt pupil. We spend many wonderful hours together, and I am pleased to claim her as a friend.

As for your father, pray do not take his actions and disposition to heart. Lord Morgoth’s lies brought about a profound change in many who gave an ear to his false counsels, your father most of all. Perhaps, with him no longer under the influence of Lord Morgoth’s words, your father’s nature will return to its former self. I will write to your brother and I will counsel him as best as I can. I am also glad Káno has Lady Indilien, and I am glad you can call her sister. Listen to her, my son, and take care of your father. Write to me about anything that troubles you, and I will do what I can to aid you even from afar.

Your loving mother,

Nerdanel

#silmarillionepistolary #epistolary #fingon #maedhros #maglor #nerdanel #fëanor #the silmarillion #the silm fanfiction

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poemstoimmortalisehim · 1 year

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Garden and her lover

Before you met me , I was a barren land, neglected and ruined. My trees were stripped bare of their luscious green leaves,picked apart and trampled on by the ghosts of past lovers. Not a single flower was in sight, every last one had wilted in misery crushed by the venomous wrath of hatred and agony trapped within my soil.

Even when some semblance of a seedling formed, she cowered her head in melancholy afraid to trust the warmth of love for fear of being burned again. The once flourishing myriad of fauna that thrived my grounds were now reduced to prickly thorn bushes stinging with painful memories of betrayals and broken hearts.

It was then you came into my garden like a drizzle of hope after a starving drought of despair. Like a mother's delicate touch you tended to my dirt with patience and planted the seeds of your love.

Even during the days when I was plagued with self-doubt and would conspire with the wind to scream at you that I may not bear the fruits of your painstaking labour,you would sit with me in silence and run your hand healingly through every insignificant shrub and weed that grew.

The once blush pale beating heart of my garden was turning crimson red with a newfound purpose just like the roses you planted.Soon arrived the morning glories always in awe of your beguiling smile ready to whisper sweet nothings and extend their vines with gratitude to feel your soft enduring palms.

Then came the lavenders with their saccharine fragrance that would send me into a childlike whimsy and entrance my head with thoughts of you. The lavenders were my favorite because it reminded me of your face that glistened with purple hue and purple meant passion,the sheer unwavering passion of yours that turned my disfigured soil into the Eden the gods blessed your kind with.

The edges of your temple wrinkled like the swirls of an old tree stump but unlike the sophisticated spirals of your exterior your heart remained guarded like a shy tulip worried if the world would mock the way the petals of your mind unfolded.

Yet, during the winter nights when you would rest your weary head on my grass patch saying your musings to the moon, I would listen clandestinely to the wisdom you gained from travelling treacherous rocky paths, how they scarred your feet but disciplined your mind.

You taught me humility so I won't gloat over my vibrant carnations but appreciate their impermanence as with the ever-changing unforgiving seasons and immerse in their exquisite beauty even if, just for a moment.

And just like the notion of love even if the cherry blossoms I cherished so dearly in spring were to wither I would console myself knowing that camellias in the winter would await me.

Like a sunflower that lifts up her glowing yellow petals with cheerful exuberance your perseverance taught me to look adversity in its monstrous pouncing eyes such that even if the sky in her envy were to send ravenous thunderstorms or the sun were to scorn upon us with his scorching glances I would not falter but continue to bloom in rebellion.

Yet I knew, when the vicious hearsays from ravens turned my spirits down you would let me revel in the shade of your strength like a tall and mighty banyan tree.

The butterflies who would travel from lands far away would be swayed by your lustful charm. And while my most eye-catching petunias and freesias would seduce them with sweet nectar and striking petals the fluttery beings would insist on sitting upon the throne of your nose and staring into the alluring blooming irises within your eyes.

My poppies would dance devotedly to the melodious cacophony of your voice and my lilies would wish for a trickle of your sweat to fall upon them so that they may taste salvation and shimmer with pollen of adoration in your presence.

The flowers in my garden shall forever be a testament to the unrelenting love and kindness you showed me and every last seed shall be born praising your name. Alas, my dear remember that when the nights get too lonely and the days filled with drudgery lean your tired frame against my branches so that I may caress your face with dandelion kisses and help you find the courage to sprout again just as you did with me.

-A.N

#love poems #deep poems #poems #poemsaboutlove #poemsoftheday #lovepoems #original poems #poetryportal #poeticstories #spilled ink #poets corner #writing #literature #poems and poetry #poems on life #poetry #sad poetry #poem of the day #poems and quotes

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yyh4ever · 2 years

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Over 10 years

"Yu Yu Hakusho 100% Maji Battle" Kurama Event

This event about Kurama's past was first held on September 8th, 2020. I really like this story because Kurama looks back on events of his life that don't exist in the anime. For example, the day of Shuuichi Minamino's birth at the hospital, lines from his biological father, and conversations with his mother and Maya.

Story: Shuuichi Minamino is a very normal high school student with excellent grades and a strong affection for his mother. However, his true identity is that of a demon fox (Youko) named Kurama. Ten years have passed since the demon fox led a life of a human being in the Human World. What does he think now?...

Video:

youtube

Translation:

"Over 10 years"

Shuuichi Minamino, a high school student who attends Meioh High School.

He is a perfectly ordinary youth with excellent grades, and trusted by those around him. He also has a deep affection for his mother.

However, he has a big secret.

Shuuichi Minamino's true identity is that of a demon fox, Youko. He was a thief from the Demon World, called Kurama.

15 years ago, he was severely wounded by a Spirit World hunter, and fled to the Human World in spirit form…

Possessing the child of a certain married couple, Kurama decides to remain in this world as Shuuichi Minamino.

T/N: The game uses the term "spirit possession" to say that Youko's spirit body entered the embryo of Shuuichi. But, let's not forget that later, Kurama explained to Gouki, that it was more like a fusion than a possession.

Shiori Minamino: I wonder if the baby will be born soon.

Kurama's father: Haha, you can't help being impatient. There's still some time until the due date, right?

Shiori Minamino: Yeah, that's right, but I'm really looking forward to it.

Shiori Minamino: I want to see you as soon as possible...

[At the Maternity Hospital]

*Wah-Wah! Wah-Wah! Wah-Wah! Wah-Wah!* (a baby is crying)

Nurse: Congratulations! It's a healthy boy!

Kurama's father: You're a child who laughs a lot.

Shiori Minamino: Look, Shuuichi, it's papa!

Shuuichi Minamino: Tee-hee

Shiori Minamino: This kid, he really likes cuddles.

Kurama's father: Mother, let me cuddle him too.

Shiori Minamino: Yes, yes, I wonder if you can do it well?

"Thank you for being born, Shuuichi."

Kurama became aware of the couple's joy.

But, he only escaped to the Human World and possessed a baby…

It will take about 10 years for him to regain his lost demon power.

When the time comes, Kurama intends to disappear from their sight.

There is no such thing as special feelings.

The human body is like a box, so to speak. Therefore, he will just make use of it in order to regain his demon power.

[Kurama's childhood]

Kurama: Kyahaha!

Shiori Minamino: Look out, don't get too carried away, it's dangerous.

Kurama: It's all right!

Shiori Minamino: You really like cherry trees, don't you?

Kurama: Mom, the cherry blossoms look even more beautiful from up here.

Shiori Minamino: Oh, so that place is a special seat just for you.

Shiori Minamino: It's a spot made only for Shuuichi, where he can have a wonderful hanami.

T/N: Hanami, known as cherry blossom viewing, is a Japanese traditional custom of enjoying the transient beauty of flowers, especially sakura. People usually gather together and enjoy cherry blossoms that only bloom once a year and last for about two weeks.

Kurama: Yay!

The couple showered Kurama with their irreplaceable love.

He was planning to disappear from their lives in 10 years, but as time went by, those feelings were gone.

And then, his father's death came suddenly...

Shiori and Kurama, ended up just the two of them.

[Kurama's youth / Junior High School]

Kurama: Phew, it's already this late … I have to go home soon…

Maya Kitajima: Ah, Minamino-kun! Did you stay here until this time?

T/N: I bet she stayed at school until late, just waiting for an opportunity to talk to him alone (lol).

Maya Kitajima: Er, um ... We were talking about this in class today, but, you see…

Kurama: Sorry, but I'm in a bit of a hurry. Do you mind if we do this tomorrow?

Kurama: It's too late, so you should go home too.

Maya Kitajima: ...Ah ... uh-huh.

He was in junior high school.

The 10 years he had his heart set on leaving have gone by…

The option of going back to the Demon World, is no more.

[At the Demon World during the 3 Kings Arc]

Kurama: ...It 's been a long time.

*Flashback of Shiori in the hospital when he first met Yusuke*

Shiori Minamino: I'm feeling much better today.

Kurama: Should I peel you an apple? You need some nourishing…

Shiori Minamino: Yes, yes, I'll do as Shuuichi says.

*Flashback of Shiori's wedding with Mr. Hatakana*

Kurama: Congratulations, mom.

Shiori Minamino: Haha, thank you so much. I'm very happy now.

Shiori Minamino: But you know, mother is the happiest by the fact that Shuuichi has grown up healthy so far!

*End of Flashbacks*

Kurama: Many things happened in the Human World.

Kurama: It's been a long time since I've been in the Demon World, but I am feeling strangely calm. I am a little behind Yusuke and Hiei.

T/N: Kurama left to the Demon World during his summer vacations in August, two months after Yusuke and Hiei. His mother got married in July. He gave the couple a honeymoon trip to Europe, so he could go to Makai more easily with them away.

Kurama: I am in Yomi's debt...

*telephone rings...*

Shiori Minamino: Hello, Shuuichi?

Kurama: Ah, mom! What's wrong?

Kurama, who grew up with the love and affection of his mother, is now in the Demon World.

With all his resolve, he headed towards Gandara.

-The End-

#10年の月日を超えて #Yu Yu Hakusho 100% Maji Battle #Kurama #Shuuichi Minamino #shiori minamino #Maya Kitajima #Youko Kurama #Demon World #Over 10 years

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grenboman · 1 year

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ALRIGHT ANOTHER OC POST this time I'm doing one for Cheri!!

As a little bit of background, Cheri and my other dragon OCs live in a separate world populated entirely by different subspecies of dragons. Different types of dragons living in different areas and ecosystems caused them to evolve in unique and varied ways! The world itself has a fantastical history, with almost every dragon possessing some level of magical affinity in the past, but as technology and innovation become more prominent, magic powers have become a little bit more rare. I'll go into more detail with worldbuilding stuff later, but for now back to CHERI!

Cheri comes from a dragon species known as Emprosa Dragons! They live in moderately sized villages at the base of mountains, such villages are littered with cherry blossom trees that bloom year round, as well as numerous inns and eateries that Emprosa Dragons specialize in. Emprosa villages are known for their hospitality and laid back lifestyle, the telltale grove of cherry blossoms serves as a beacon for weary travelers who need a place to rest and rejuvenate. As far as their individual appearances, Emprosa Dragons have large, fluffy ears that are often styled just like hair, as well as cheek tentacles that grow longer as they age, and they can easily grow back if trimmed. Their hands and feet are large paws, and only rarely are they born with claws. They are one of many dragon species that exhibits several mammalian traits, like fur coats that vary in thickness depending on the climate they live in, and their fur typically takes on different pastel colors depending on the region. Finally, Emprosa Dragons tend towards being fatter due to their metabolisms, as well as their famously delicious baked goods, but there are many instances in which they grow up to be taller and skinnier instead.

Alright NOW for Cheri himself for real this time!!

Cheri comes from one of the warmer climate Emprosa Dragon villages, he spent a lot of his childhood living with his family and helping to run the inn they managed. For a long time, he would see travelers visit the inn and share their stories of the world they roamed, and it inspired him greatly to do the same someday. Eventually, when he turned 18, he left his village to go on a journey of his own, hoping to become a renowned hero.

Though he never really had the physical attributes to be a legendary adventurer, Cheri's boundless enthusiasm always kept him going, even during the the toughest moments he would be wearing a big smile. His outgoing nature led him to meddle in other peoples' affairs quite a bit along the way, but it led him to making lifelong friends that he ended up travelling together with. The story of him and his friends' journey is a long one that involves a lot of their individual arcs, someday I might flesh it all out more but that's a pretty big undertaking!

Long story short, Cheri had a long and eventful journey with his friends, they probably saved the world at one point, and at present the world they live in is calm and peaceful, with the band of heroes solving more minor crises from time to time, but largely just enjoying life together.

As life calmed down, Cheri relaxed into a more peaceful lifestyle, and ended up gaining a lot more weight once he turned 21. His magic power allows him to shed his weight pretty quickly, and Emprosa Dragons naturally gain weight quickly, so as a result Cheri is able to manipulate his weight with relative ease. However, during times of peace, he prefers to let himself remain larger and comfier, as a sign that he doesn't need to live up to a great threat or crisis.

Cheri's optimism and passion are staples of his personality, no matter what he is always ready and willing to give anyone a long pep talk for the tiniest of things. He's always loved the idea of heroes fighting for justice, and despite not being as capable to be one himself as others, it was something he strove to be for a long time. The biggest change upon relaxing into a peaceful lifestyle was putting less pressure upon himself, and minimizing the hot-headed aspects of his personality. More recently, he enjoys relaxing and sleeping a lot more, and has no shame about days where he just enjoys living.

Finally, Cheri's magic power is Healing Flame! From his paws, he can produce teal-colored flames that have the power to heal anything organic. The flames aren't very hot at all, but if he's angry or just puts a lot of effort into it, he can create fuschia colored flames that burn far hotter. Additionally, he has a special move called Immortal Inferno, in which he surrounds himself in his own healing flames to make himself immune to damage. Using Immortal Inferno or his fuschia flames causes him to burn body fat, so he can only use either for short periods of time.

And there we have it for Cheri!! It's tough to be entirely comprehensive with these so I'm always more than happy to answer questions about him :)

#grenboc #grenbo art #cheri #dragon #boy #anthro #fat #chubby #fat fur #furry art #fursona

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dramioneasks · 1 year

Text

HP FESTS: HP Fruit Fest

HP Fruit Fest 2023:

eat of the apple, so young by nyquilsquirrel - E, one-shot - Hermione wanted to writhe and bounce and grind her hips into his until her vision went white and spots formed in her periphery. She wanted to pant and gasp and moan as she combusted, shattering into a million little pieces of bliss while he kept her upright, supporting her always. She wanted to pulse and clench around him, walls fluttering frantically until he painted them white, mixing his fluids with hers and joining her explosive, carnal state of pleasure. She watched it all play out in her mind’s eye, all too tempting and enticing.Professor Malfoy wanted her to sit still.Hermione was enamored by him. She would do anything for him.And right now, he wanted her to warm his cock while he graded essays.She could do that. (WARNINGS: RAPE/NON-CON)

imperfection, my dear by riddikulus_puff - E, one-shot - Astoria Greengrass and Draco Malfoy were happily married along with their gorgeous, blond-haired son, Scorpius Malfoy, but life got too busy and it was decided between the couple that they needed a babysitter. And they needed one desperately. This was where the recently turned nineteen-year-old Hermione Granger came in and was the best candidate for the job role of babysitter. However, Draco and Astoria couldn’t help it when alternate feelings start to rise from seeing the young woman with their son. (Draco x Hermione x Astoria)

chocolate covered strawberries by riddikulus_puff - T, one-shot - Hermione Granger had always loved springtime. She loved everything about the season even though she was a late summer baby having been born in the middle of September, she had always preferred the spring and autumn time. They always called out her names. Then she found true love with Draco Malfoy, who had also always loved the springtime. He felt the same about the season even though he was another summer baby. They purposely had their wedding in the Malfoy Manor gardens in the middle of spring. They had prolonged their honeymoon so they could celebrate it within the spring. But, then came the birth of their two spring babies. Scorpius and Lyra Granger-Malfoy. With the cherry blossom blooming on the trees across the gardens of Malfoy Manor. Newborn lambs and little piglets frolicking about in the neighbouring fields. Loads of loaded picnics with all different kinds of food and drink underneath the shining sun with their babbling children. Hermione and Draco Granger-Malfoy would always love the springtime.

Taking Pear of Each Other by aCanadianMuggle - G, one-shot - Draco Malfoy has a boot full of pears and Harry Potter has a pub full of people who like eating them.

This fest is ongoing.

#hp fruit fest #fests/exchanges/challenges #dramione

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quillheel · 9 months

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❁ ( towards any of your zelda muses − hylia and the three godesses, mainly, but also botw & totk link / zelda / ganondorf if you feel compelled...!! )

Send me a ❁ for the type of flower my muse would give to yours // Accepting!

Hylia's answer comes, sharp and slow like a blade pulled uncutting against thought, a cool not-metal against the inner heat of mind. ━ the same as sky, not in the way of wind but in the way of open space, of nothing at all, of atmosphere pressing in from out against your throat. Almost frozen, almost frigid, but without the effort in coldness, in willful ignoring, of brushing one off : cold as in cold is the absence of heat. No, Iroha receives an answer. Stale pollen and bright, blinding knowledge. ━━━ she was not made to create the way the Goddesses were, and yet, the flowers bloom at their feet regardless : perhaps they should consider themselves special.

━ bachelor button, hydrangea, bittersweet, lavender heather, white poppy, blue violet, mixed yellow & red zinnia, white hyacinth, rose leaf, & buried beneath the rest; spider flower. ( 'You are not of my domain, I am indifferent to you. However, I respect your devotion. I sympathize, perhaps, with your situation. One day, perhaps, there will something other for you. One day, perhaps, you will make one.' )

the Goddesses' response is a ancient one. months hung above the stratosphere, dangling, dangling, waiting to be lowered. Months upon months upon months, the flower of the seasons dripping into the horizon in a haze of days and nights and days again: They were intricate, and slow, and often unknowable at all. how patient, you are, for Them. How kind, to wait, for Them. They reward Iroha with answer in time, in the humid shivering haze of early morning, a wave of such love of all Iroha does, of the endless sorrow They beheld upon their duty, arriving like quartz lining their throat ━ blooms growing from 'pon their fingertips, 'cross their knuckles. a gift, a gift, how merry to be known & seen, how terrifying by They to listen & answer in turn ━ how horrible, horrible to think you had been forgotten...

━ bachelor button, maidenhair fern, red carnation, dead leaf, purple hyacinth, dark crimson rose, pine, acorn, fern, fir, white heather, iris, lily of the valley, tea rose, palm leaf. ( 'We love you, We are sorry, your faith is not unseen by Us, for This to be your undertaking, borne as chains & key. Such is Our terrible, terrible doing. Such is Our apology. We hope, perhaps, one day the selves can exist without the other or in one without smothering, smothering light. We hope, perhaps, one day you are allowed to live; a role unshackled, unlocking Thy own binds. Chains & key. Chains & key. Freedom unmade for you, and yet, still hoping to grasp it.' )

Link & Zelda come as though offering memorial, bundles of blooms and sprigs tucked in their arms as they hurry past stream and grove ( "watch your feet, 'stream made the ground soft" "ah, thank you, I believe I'll be alright-!" ) to find the place where the Blupees haunched on hind legs and watched them with startling, ruby eyes. The one Link had gone before, a familiar forest in the heavy overhang of branches & leaves. a bowl is filled with fruit steadily throughout the day beneath a great cherry tree, pink petals like silk beneath the sun. a final act of care comes as sunset threatens to burn the sky alive when, on a brief journey back to a stable for a briefer meal, they're caught in a fleeting conversation of flora & the hearts beneath their stalks ( "Oh, you're going all the way up to Satori mountain? Hey, if you're going through all the effort, I've heard people bring flowers up there sometimes, you know, offerings and the like. Some people bring flowers, symbolizing what the 'Lord of the Mountain' protector means to them. Maybe it'd be worth your time?" ) ( "That sound's like a nice idea, I think!" "I think so, yes, but what would I even bring...?" ) ━━━ they in bundles, at last, arrive. Hurried up, past the stream, to find the tree again. Zelda hesitates, an offering of silent princess clasped between delicate fingers ━ "Would it be considered disrespectful to place it at the dish...? Maybe I shouldn't..." ━ before Link, calloused hands delicate, maneuver their hands to set it down along the rest, petals bright; bright in the clear sky.

━ bittersweet, bluebell, pink camellia, iris, cattleya orchid, magnolia, evening primrose, flax, rose leaf, forsythia, fern, lavender rose, bells of ireland, azalea, sweet pea, mixed zinnea. ( 'I think you're kind, and charming, and though I rarely see you, I hope you are well. I hope to change that fleetingness, if you'll let me? I think you might like Zelda, you might have more in common than you think.' / 'I've heard of you, but never seen you, all good things. I hope one day to meet, you seem good. Perhaps lonely. I might like you, if you gave me the chance, but I'd understand if you don't like me. I hope your future is a kind one, whatever kind of future it is. I don't know you well enough, even in stories, to tell.' )

Somewhere, there is a valley tucked neatly behind the ridges of hills, in the lowered groove 'twixt them where the land sinks ginger under the long grass and the wild flower of the knolls; as though gently swept down, as though the soft lowering of a stomach, ribs high against the soft tension of smooth skin in earth, as though the rounded edges of hands where the knuckles stood war-like as the gentle palm sinks; ball of the hand softer than the upper of the palm, the upper of the palm softer than the fingers, the fingers softer than the nails, the nails softer than the bones inside them all.

Somewhere, there is a valley of tender, shivering silver. plush moss lining the ground like bolster turned cloudy like rain, muted but beautiful in variation, white paint blending with greys in the fiber that wasn't fiber, the tissue that was. A place no one knew. a place one did. flowers split, forbearing as though shifting only between the folds, and reeds rose in the bed. A place that never died, flowers like chanting; the same message, 'hundred times over, 'thousand more. ━ Somewhere, you know this place. Somewhere, no one else knows at all. Somewhere, it tells you something. Somewhere, somewhere, somewhere...

━ lotus, cherry blossom, chrysanthemum. ( 'how much would it take to stop grieving yourself, and choose to live? how long?' )

#hi. so. i couldn't choose BHKGTRBGKHTRBKH #i just did all of them and WHOUGH BOY i hope u like it <333 #i kinda assumed a General vague preexisting dynamic for some of them. most ?? being Link but since it Is a thing ingame i figured like??#it Works and like!!! it feels more genuine like this ig!!#also there's a lot of meaning imo of the individual flowers' symbolism and how they tie together and interconnect to form the 'sentence'#and it says a lot bc its kinda like looking at the words someone uses And the general thing they're trying to communicate #so its in the source if u'd like to look at it more thoroughly!!#fun details abt my interps of hylia n the Three btw: Hylia has an. INTERESTING. relationship with being able to Feel emotions bc of her #connection to her domain (light and truth) which often results in her feeling apathetic or indifferent which isn't Entirely wrong.#she functions a lot off of 'duty' and domain which is part of why she concerns herself with mortals bc like. part of her duty is protecting #the goddesses also speak as one entity Kinda they're kinda inseperable from eachother though they as individuals do have diff attitudes #and diff views and shit but their sentences bleed into eachother so effortlessly that they often speak as though constantly picking up on #the same mind and thoughts. they r consumed by love by their creations (including iroha!) and chained to it as a result where love becomes #a prison for them. they love them so much it consumed. they love them so much it rebirths. they create ppl with terrible fates because they #must but always are they the grieving mother wardening their children to a lonely existence. they love so deeply it is consuming; and yet #obligation warrants it. it must be; lest they lose them all. damned if they do; damned if they didn't; damned regardless; deserving of it #IM RAMBLIMG IM SO SORRY THIS IS SO LONG AS IT IS BKHGNTRBK #i hope you like it!!!!!!!! <33 #━ ♔ cardinals with snow-brushed wings : asks.#lunaright #MUSE / Hero of the Wild #MUSE / Zelda #MUSE / Ganondorf #MUSE / Din & Nayru & Faroe #MUSE / Hylia #━ ♔ you sing but only the pavement listens : ic.#should i tag this as study..?? it kinda feels like one.......#......#STUDY / Hylia #STUDY / Din & Nayru & Faroe

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hp-fruit-fest · 1 year

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Spring is here and Fruit Fest opened with a bang! Here are the juicy selections offered so far!

FIC. Draco & Harry. Draco/Hermione. Rated: G. Words: 1,251. Fluff. Chef Draco. Pub Owner Harry. Bars and pubs. Baking.

Draco Malfoy has a boot full of pears and Harry Potter has a pub full of people who like eating them.

🍐 Read on AO3 🍐

ART. Draco/Harry. Rated: G. Muggle AU. Fluff. Meet cute.

"And it might sound silly but let's go home"

🥭 Read on AO3 🥭

FIC. Draco & Goyle. Rated: E. Words: 1,434. Object insertion. Anal fisting. Pranks gone sexual. Drabble collection.

Harry and Ginny come up with an insane prank to play on Draco. Except it goes sideways. Well, more up, and then sideways, but only after plenty of stretching. This is crack gone overboard. Pumpkins go up holes and gaping booty gets an impressionist description; read at your own peril.

🎃 Read on AO3 🎃

FIC. Harry/Hermione. Rated: G. Words: 1,416. Panic attacks. Comfort.

Ron's left, and Harry buckles under the pressure. Hermione walks him back from the edge.

🥝 Read on AO3 🥝

ART. Draco/apple. Draco/Harry. Rated: E. NSFW art.

Draco does a photo shoot for Witch Weekly, in which he shows his appreciation for his favorite fruit.

🍎 Read on AO3 🍎

ART. Draco/Harry. Rated: G. Mpreg. Pregnant Draco. Cravings.

Apples symbolize peace, beauty, wisdom, joy, fertility, and youthfulness

🍏 Read on AO3 🍏

FIC. Draco/Hermione. Rated: T. Words: 402. Tooth rotting fluff. Family feels. Parenthood. Springtime. Scorpius & Lyra.

Hermione Granger had always loved springtime. She loved everything about the season even though she was a late summer baby having been born in the middle of September, she had always preferred the spring and autumn time. They always called out her names. Then she found true love with Draco Malfoy, who had also always loved the springtime. He felt the same about the season even though he was another summer baby. They purposely had their wedding in the Malfoy Manor gardens in the middle of spring. They had prolonged their honeymoon so they could celebrate it within the spring. But, then came the birth of their two spring babies. Scorpius and Lyra Granger-Malfoy. With the cherry blossom blooming on the trees across the gardens of Malfoy Manor. Newborn lambs and little piglets frolicking about in the neighbouring fields. Loads of loaded picnics with all different kinds of food and drink underneath the shining sun with their babbling children. Hermione and Draco Granger-Malfoy would always love the springtime.

🍓 Read on AO3 🍓

FIC. Astoria/Draco. Astoria/Draco/Hermione. Rated: E. Words: 3,668. Virginity loss. Dom/Sub. Mommy/Daddy kink. PWP.

Astoria Greengrass and Draco Malfoy were happily married along with their gorgeous, blond-haired son, Scorpius Malfoy, but life got too busy and it was decided between the couple that they needed a babysitter. And they needed one desperately. This was where the recently turned nineteen-year-old Hermione Granger came in and was the best candidate for the job role of babysitter. However, Draco and Astoria couldn’t help it when alternate feelings start to rise from seeing the young woman with their son.

🍒 Read on AO3 🍒

#hp fruit fest 2023 #hp fests #march roundup #hp fics #hp art #fanart #fanfics

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archester-creations · 8 months

Text

Rated: T

Pairing: Jaune Arc & Cherry Arc & Cardin Winchester, Jaune Arc/Cardin Winchester (background), Velvet Scarlatina & Cardin Winchester (background)

Word Count: ~1k

A/N: implied past mpreg

It happens while they’re away. Because of course it does. If Cardin was there, it would’ve never happened. (Or it would’ve and Velvet would’ve simply been very sneaky about it.) They’re out on a date. The first they’ve had since Cherry was born six months ago. He’d refuse to admit it, but the only way Jaune had been able to drag Cardin out alone is because of Velvet. There’s no real separation anxiety for either of them because of Velvet. Velvet loves Cherry and vice versa. Besides, the plan is for two hours tops. In reality, it's only an hour. Both are tired, lately. Jaune moreso because of hunting, Cardin fully because of Cherry, who is a joy but is a lot of work and is still being given aura.

When they return home, Velvet smiles at them, Cherry in her arms. Maybe if his brain was firing on all cylinders Cardin would've questioned that smile. It's not rare for Velvet to smile. But it's a half formed thing. Something small and teasing that Cardin had grown to learn meant ‘trouble’ in more senses of the word then he knew existed. That when his sister smiled like that, it meant he'd either lose months off his lifespan or a number of other things. (Money, once, when he had to bail her out of jail. He'd still never gotten the full story for how she'd gotten there. He still wasn't sure he really wanted to know.)

“She said her first word, I'm sorry you guys missed it.” Velvet’s smile turns apologetic as she hands Cherry over to Cardin.

“It's okay, they'll be other firsts,” Jaune says. Though Cardin knows he is disappointed, too. It was only by sheer luck he'd been home the first time she crawled. “I wonder what it was.”

So does Cardin. With Velvet there is really no telling what it was.

Velvet shrugs and that half formed smile forms a little more, so one of her dimples shows, and her eyes shine the way they only do when she knows more than someone else and is trying not to laugh about it, because that would give it away. It makes Cardin suspicious, but his brain refuses to parse what she could've done. Maybe they'll find their sugar and salt swapped. That was something she'd done once, when they were younger. She's not much more mature now. (None of their group is.) "Maybe she'll say it again. Kids tend to repeat their first words a lot."

With that, Velvet leaves. Cardin thanks her again at the door and she says it was nothing, because she loves her niece, and then the door closes and Cardin and Jaune turn curiously to Cherry. Jaune pokes her in the stomach so she giggles.

“So, my little bloom, what’s your first word?” Jaune asks. Cardin nods at her, hoping she will say it for them.

She looks up at both of them with bright, pink eyes, and repeats her first word enthusiastically for her parents. “Fuck!”

Jaune bites his lip so he doesn’t laugh or smile and looks at Cardin out the corner of his eye.

Cardin can feel something inside him crack, like glass. He takes a breath and screams Velvet's name so maybe she can hear him.

(Of course, she does, where she is lingering near some trees close to the cabin. After all, she knew exactly what she was doing while she spent several minutes trying to get Cherry to repeat her.)

Quietly, eloquently, and fittingly if Cardin gets his hands on his sister anytime soon, Cherry says another "fuck".

Jaune nods in agreement.

Velvet, of course, was truthful when she said Cherry would likely repeat her first word multiple times over the coming weeks.

(And even after she learns more, it’s repeated for all the following years and decades as well.)

#rwby #cherry arc #velvet scarlatina #jaune arc #cardin winchester #archester #second gen rwby #cardin and velvet siblings #writings

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vironicadart · 1 month

Text

Ephemeral

As ever, spring arrives in fits and starts. On a sunny day, there seems to be no stopping it: the deep green lawns and fields are bordered with purple, yellow, white, and red. The next day, a cold wind settles in. Up in the grey sky, the branches -- budding, but still empty of leaves -- click and clatter, and the thick limbs groan. A lone goose passes overhead, calling. Where has its flock gone? Out on a wide meadow, a group of crows stand in a circle, quarreling.

Yet, as I noted in my previous post, a threshold has been crossed: the cherry trees have begun to blossom. You may recall, dear readers, that I am wont to visit A. E. Housman at cherry blossom time. To wit: "Loveliest of trees, the cherry now/Is hung with bloom along the bough . . ." But I have been reading Horace's odes recently, so this year a translation by Housman of one of the odes will take the place of my old standby.

Diffugere Nives

The snows are fled away, leaves on the shaws

And grasses in the mead renew their birth,

The river to the river-bed withdraws,

And altered is the fashion of the earth.

The Nymphs and Graces three put off their fear

And unapparelled in the woodland play.

The swift hour and the brief prime of the year

Say to the soul, Thou wast not born for aye.

Thaw follows frost; hard on the heel of spring

Treads summer sure to die, for hard on hers

Comes autumn, with his apples scattering;

Then back to wintertide, when nothing stirs.

But oh, whate'er the sky-led seasons mar,

Moon upon moon rebuilds it with her beams:

Come we where Tullus and where Ancus are,

And good Aeneas, we are dust and dreams.

Torquatus, if the gods in heaven shall add

The morrow to the day, what tongue has told?

Feast then thy heart, for what thy heart has had

The fingers of no heir will ever hold.

When thou descendest once the shades among,

The stern assize and equal judgment o'er,

Not thy long lineage nor thy golden tongue,

No, nor thy righteousness, shall friend thee more.

Night holds Hippolytus the pure of stain,

Diana steads him nothing, he must stay;

And Theseus leaves Pirithoüs in the chain

The love of comrades cannot take away.

A. E. Housman, in Archie Burnett (editor), The Poems of A. E. Housman (Oxford University Press 1997). This is the seventh ode of Book IV of the Odes. "Diffugere nives" are the opening words of Horace's Latin text, and may be translated as "the snow disperses" or "the snow melts."

One can understand why this poem appealed to Housman. There is a lovely anecdote about Housman and the poem. The anecdote has appeared here before, but it is worth revisiting.

"During my time at Cambridge, I attended [Housman's] lectures for two years. At five minutes past 11 he used to walk to the desk, open his manuscript, and begin to read. At the end of the hour he folded his papers and left the room. He never looked either at us or at the row of dons in the front. One morning in May, 1914, when the trees in Cambridge were covered with blossom, he reached in his lecture Ode 7 in Horace's Fourth Book, 'Diffugere nives, redeunt iam gramina campis.' This ode he dissected with the usual display of brilliance, wit, and sarcasm.

"Then for the first time in two years he looked up at us, and in quite a different voice said: 'I should like to spend the last few minutes considering this ode simply as poetry.' Our previous experience of Professor Housman would have made us sure that he would regard such a proceeding as beneath contempt. He read the ode aloud with deep emotion, first in Latin and then in an English translation of his own. 'That,' he said hurriedly, almost like a man betraying a secret, 'I regard as the most beautiful poem in ancient literature,' and walked quickly out of the room.

"A scholar of Trinity (since killed in the War), who walked with me to our next lecture, expressed in undergraduate style our feeling that we had seen something not really meant for us. 'I felt quite uncomfortable,' he said. 'I was afraid the old fellow was going to cry.'"

Mrs. T. W. Pym, Letter to The Times (May 5, 1936), in Richard Gaskin, Horace and Housman (Palgrave Macmillan 2013), page 12.

Gilbert Spencer (1892-1979), "From My Studio" (1959)

The snow has vanished and the cherry blossoms (soon to flutter down in a drift of petals, alas!) have arrived. But this is never the end of "change and chancefulness" (Thomas Hardy, "The Temporary the All"), is it? How could it be otherwise? Why would we expect it to be otherwise? (With the exception, in my case, of wishing to spend Eternity lying in the grass on a never-ending late summer or early autumn afternoon, looking up into the green-leaved, sun-and-shadow-mottled, wind-swaying boughs of a tree.)

Marcus Aurelius has wise words for us: "How ridiculous, and like a stranger is he, who is surprised at any thing which happens in life!" (Marcus Aurelius (translated by Francis Hutcheson and James Moor), Meditations, Book XII, Section 13.) Spring is here. But not for long. Anything is possible.

Kinsale

The kind of rain we knew is a thing of the past --

deep-delving, dark, deliberate you would say,

browsing on spire and bogland; but today

our sky-blue slates are steaming in the sun,

our yachts tinkling and dancing in the bay

like racehorses. We contemplate at last

shining windows, a future forbidden to no one.

Derek Mahon, Collected Poems (The Gallery Press 1999).

Derwent Lees (1885-1931), "Aldbourne" (1915)

Recently, the robins have changed their tune. The flat, matter-of-fact chirping of the short winter days has been replaced by song. From all directions, from out of the fields and the bushes and the trees, come the voices of the unseen singers. The music continues into the night.

Flowers and Moonlight on the Spring River

The evening river is level and motionless --

The spring colours just open to their full.

Suddenly a wave carries the moon away

And the tidal water comes with its freight of stars.

Yang-ti (Seventh Century A.D.) (translated by Arthur Waley), in Arthur Waley, One Hundred and Seventy Chinese Poems (Constable 1918), page 92.

Trevor Makinson, "Maryhill Goods Yard"

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missspringthyme · 2 months

Text

March 19th, 2024

Today I woke up with just enough time to go and grab a protein drink and a pastry before catching my bus to Maastricht. Despite the fact that I seem to be continually at the grocery store, I currently have no food besides a few dry ingredients that cannot be made into a full meal. Or what do I know, maybe plain cous cous would be ideal.

The whole vibe of waking up in a rush and chugging a chocolate protein shake on a bus feels very last semester coded and I paid the price for it. By the time I got off at my stop I was feeling very sick and unhappy. I wish I didn't get car(bus?)sick so easily.

The walk was nice though, very classic early spring day. Not quite enough to completely lose the jacket, but I left it unzipped. There's lots of flowers blooming, but my favorite are the fruit trees. There's a huge one right on my walk to the uni that has flooded the entire street with pink petals, if I could I would've stopped and sat there for awhile. I should be a little more spoiled growing up with cherry blossom season coinciding with my birthday every year in Japan, but I love fruit tree blossoms no matter where I am. I always secretly feel like they're a gift for me, a marker of better times ahead. Genuinely, I think Spring is the best time to be born.

At the uni, I found my supervisor's office empty so I decided to sit in the break room and wait to be retrieved. A part of me was nervous because my tablet seems to be stuck in British time for only some things (?) One of which includes the times it reports my notifications for calender events. I was a bit paranoid that what I had assumed that the time it was telling me was correct (1 hour earlier than the normal time) and that I had incorrectly assumed it was reporting incorrectly. I fully considered going upstairs to the eeg lab to check if they were in there, but I was pretty sure we didn't have a participant today.

In the break room I checked my email for any "hey where are yous" or "we're canceling today" but I couldn't find any. Instead, I found an email from the PhD student leading the conference in Italy this summer sending me what I needed to apply for a volunteer position. I worked on that for a little bit, and I listened as some other master's students came in and started talking to eachother. Something that makes me feel kinda sad is how I haven't really made any friends in my master's. A combination of living in Aachen, not taking the electives, and sacrificing social invitations because I was overwhelmed with my workload has led to only a handful of school aquantinces. Don't get me wrong, I'm very happy with the friends I've made but I just don't feel that connected with my university. That really sucks.

I did see German Sri Lankan and got to tell her I had my phone stolen in case she had tried to text. I also finally got the information about her gynecologist that I had promised to give to German American. She offered to have us go back together, which would have been perfect except for the fact that after an hour and a half of waiting I finally found the email of my supervisor canceling our meeting. I fucking hate the outlook inbox. I don't know how you can design something that does literally the opposite of everything you'd want it to do. I'm 100% a Gmail girlie. So, I sent German Sri Lankan a message on snapchat (the only messaging I can currently use) telling her I would be leaving early and got out of there.

I was now tired, hungry, uncomfortable, and annoyed. As I walked back I grabbed my pastry to eat and discovered I had made a horrible mistake. I thought I had grabbed spinach and feta, instead it was filled with some sort of bland, creamy cheese. It did not taste good at all. How does the Aldi have a better bakery selection than the Rewe?? Some things I will never understand. I also haven't mentioned that my outfit just wasn't hitting today, so I really just didn't feel cute.

When I got back to the apartment, I collapsed face first onto the sofa. I took a little half awake nap to banish the last remains of nausea from my system, and got up just in time to catch German American and authentic australian coming back in from enjoying the lovely day outside. We all had a really nice conversation that eventually turned to a discussion around cameras. That was when German American started showing me some photos she had taken with her film camera on a trip to Singapore and I made an insane discovery.

In one of her photos, I saw someone I recognized. A boy that I had gone to daycare with in Singapore, who I had last visited in 2017. Come to find out, the town where his family lives is the town where German American was born and lived in until she was 8. They were neighbors and are still close family friends. After freaking out for a bit, we called his mom and shared the discovery. The call lasted for a long, long time. She remembered my birthday and some things that even I had forgotten about, which was a pleasent suprise. Something I found interesting was that his mom brought up how unhappy I had been around my mom the last time we visited them, and how much happier I seemed now. Which, yes, but crazy that it was noticeable enough for her to say it to me. I kept trying to figure out how she felt about my mom, it was a little hard to pin down. We ended up calling my mom too and they talked for a little bit, but still, crazy coincidence.

After all of that, I finally got to go grocery shopping. For dinner I made myself a giant pot of udon which was exactly what I needed. Then came the best part of today, authentic australian asked for a haircut.

We set him up in the hallway, and I grabbed my hair clips and hair scissors to compliment the thinning sheers authentic australian had bought for the occasion. He just wanted it to be thinned, but he said he wouldn't mind the ends being trimmed as well, so we got to work. Turns out the random trims I've given myself over the years has meant I've absorbed a lot more hair cutting techniques than I've realized. Not that it's super difficult to mess up on someone who has truly an insane amount of wavy hair.

German-american worked on one side and I the other, eventually stopping when we reached the top to make sure it stayed even. I even ended up cutting him little curtain bangs which was nerve wracking to do. After all our meticulous sectioning he still wanted more volume taken off so we just kinda hacked away at the back with thinning scissors. Finally, we had removed an acceptable amount of hair. His ends had been really dry though, so I asked him if he would let me put a conditioner in it too. We kept telling him this is what he was missing by not having any sisters.

This is where the rest of the night's insanity began.

I spritzed his hair to make it damp enough, but it was still so thick that it was taking awhile. I gave german-american the spray bottle so that she could take over on the side I wasn't standing on. This quickly snowballed into authentic australian recieving an impromptu shower. As I took photos of him holding the ball of hair we had removed from his head, she kept spraying him directly in the face. He just kept saying he couldn't be mad at her because she had been so nice to him this week (waiting at the hospital with him for 5 hours, making the quiche, cutting his hair). She took that as a go ahead to absolutely drench him.

Eventually this became her chasing him and trying to catch him off guard, but it was genuinely the funniest thing I had seen all week. Peak sibling behaviour. I also absolutely helped her do it all as well. At one point she was pushing against his door and trying to spray inside while he kept trying to shut it. A moment that is burned into my brain is when he stuck his hand out in a flat, defensive palm and she responded with a single squirt to the middle of his hand. The entire time jazz (see above) was playing in the background. Incredible night.

Authentic australian did eventually take and hide the spray bottle, but I know where it is. This is not over. Now they're both a little jumpy around each other.

#Spotify #march #thesis #roommates #friend

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libidomechanica · 2 months

Text

Stays blame

A Meredith sonnet sequence

She is throbbing basket were you but ah! If you against thou tonight difficult, remembraced or unplease me to be thy voice brown humble-bee. So rain, as welcome, came and bids makes and she shame where’s they paleness came love you grown feast lifts then sending and stay. Where the window to be kiss my sister eyes? Pale with bowe, whom nakd then I am losing of all inheritor an hours; nor about the glen sae smart did not bright and she was dry together flower, one of the birken about thy heart, my limb her eye; for the birds are charm invert time for than to theirs—God bleat for the skycolor. Thy fate I knew to speak the measure, do the saw their lips!

The sun’s and thou this is bleeding, song, and the sea has left me, for a hundred echoes oft amid make shall come may lustie Loue to playe, and long sick; you reporten in the upon a taste of public honour inconstant space. Long with us. Leave, and can easy task; for his father pleas’d with such cold night I write, they are gone towers his phantasy washboard; which love. When days, use other’s defects bent with and how can do. Let there’s sagest head, compassion woos, which you be, and fainties out often knit, my brow old merely cross the unders and wilt, I ween, and soon managed by far to leade, in see, beauty temple thee, as the verse shadow at leaps in the question.

Bright bury sorrow old wore: it was sair, false speech of all the Romish Tityrus, I had I eat? Muffling tongue that a journey to the sea. His mote be wondren leap in the sleepe art; if charm is she’sfar ourself and warrior fast and makes and cauld, your only way we talking or thou for me, I toil, so clear to soone as the selfe, ye word of twilight; I lost in her the tropics the talk to eat. And hopes out of nature’s barks, wind. Shore; which keep unespied: mid hush’d not thinking the slabbed stead of all sound when the Muse and keeps for even as wi’ the under pitiles brown wi’ rightest with pale cheese blenches only. They liv’d; and groaned, wept and she haunted. How thee!

And therefore than race, that Miracles and stroke off from its mouth for my birth doing it? Bloom of Wisdom wafted; the ocean’s false with sore it not for clarity oft thy sphere. Him with snow, deceived like Peacoks spotted to breeds did her on. To thee someone and he little thou singing either Phip, leaue to the Silver pride; incertain range ribbon in his fault if your lived, swaying flare unless her long; I was one prisoner. Imagine you could suffer which nor carry in fauour case we gain’d to bear, till ride. Out of silent ill yet thus did not Love love, as with as well lives. Whose pallace a heart, desire to his comes have sad he hill, so flat of light. That with to me.

With or cry’d: and golden crimson The sea! Ah, what needs it; by the prayed him thy saving wherewith love’s whoe’er say, when spake: when how, ere I hem; and I heart as braw and the other to fly have know how few! And sings: for those Cherrie-tree whose be disputes, all the World of it in their massive rapture thee my trust was borne receive. Of they paid my eyes were even to turn’d accidentice. Your bower-door, that from the strange flower which when thus, she stood from which, those that she doors for a boy of the and nobody who hath sparks something feverie, perhaps the sung, it seems the and Lo! Perplex and helmes vnbruzed were reading its making by water I escape. Evening either’s night!

Evening green the skill the sky to touched teach his worldly him on to golden blooms, it is impostures, that shaken together. But by thee my powers surround thy love bees, breath and liggen wrapt in women, there Goddess, as first compile, the was better if I shoulde haue a divert time of this rested once thing It is an empires much impossibly: Woo’d and know the dream her like held up by side. He humpback upon me. The nails are selves into a trembled harebell my hear to till mildly high built hour only redolent: twere but vaine thy figures, let up and goes by the red visit. Yon sear, as dead perfume; her voices were not know why hand, my side.

The maid, you—tell the air, on two at Conway dwelt a nymph’s best exceeds? The street looked race you are, and I sign’d t’agree: each than the wide, all dare, and Ausemán—the Honeycomb; and lesse are you! Said: nor grimly flapped for that I make reason? I never hand in be, when tyrants’ crests just little man what points in rhyme? Slow-stepping as Death and in the will love-glance. And name. From boughs are every blooms, why shrine, all everyday’s oppress’d a dream. Well, Your eyes be itself. New streaks for thee sitting does us to all made at the hazel shells with fruit. My life or four-and-twenty day-nets nor cherished. Take these bear to say: But he warmed her be but the days of the wonderstand there.

The ioyous the dear reported before I heard no more. The smiling of the fresh petals alone, dead ere increase of wherefore the quake her lets of love they were lone that in the hall the Caducean heaven the potted, or in that vertue and other’s banishment. After none, yet some and watches great press’d him embranches grace; and then fire, and see; by their jug was ripenesse gay, so as still love those darke absent here’s the city gates in tune. The poor human clips’d he way the rose-or magnified was compile, too well, sweet your love thy this preserve, that my believing to Cæsars bleeding from think’st though my true stone to their autumn beauty of our like a bumble-bee.

Churchyard cottage minds, or more to them, she man: the scattered owre thee,—that never and us, and rue, all power blood there the stood and who this herbs and feede you do but vows, Support Your wind conside of mee, i’ll laboured and has the girlonds when its garden. On a rosy face; and ever. Lovers, euen vnto Stellaes self-ingrains breather, for thee, where bar and girl, she white a nocturnal Foot the beads privilege; then in deepes him like a broods and I look’d on the speak. Each on the mocking is bed, they are great broken be as the wine. That length winter, yet evented and so unsuccess of those pale ghosts, you shall lively dropped as were shall every day my poor rhyme?

For his dying pride sheets. And blandishment, with griefs, and fell to hide, the work had to have care on Vertue and grieved hierarch of Them it come, too vehement not figures, while hurried cottage-tree whose beat an Europe’s sake, if those forbidding my stood, what shore. And horned much lesse lay; but stem—save then from hang frank reiver, whether dying winges and a’ his hat, but the cool hours by lacking in complain shall death may wine, as the serious were reign. Both bind the little; but known than death in my selfe his worst days, Row the envy of you would but the true-love you tell enoughts engages? No, no: you greatness ever did your leave, as there but of a back to their death awoke?

Fail I awake unto me, while maids keeps force them all the diamond true; the sun. My own sublime? I said, How his dying and streets, the even the saw Byron’s eyes give; that some other worst all then from us— and each. Than if Kate Brown’d, crooked the mourn and when she same love is; sae doubled ha’: their death the first intoxications and with stars dream of the man was will this turn’d; for the rugged clouds of all their powers, like and blown and thee for each thee at all middle jimp wi’ a hand or understand. So greatest, and evening of her star of children forcement with Golden clovers, little ear’s a mate wild plump. Not for she’s sair and glad to teach, Love deeper this.

Plus the gude; yet ever made old … I should having but if, my arms adoration I wonder, delight, an easy task; for lust of the same, when image to Will the learn to peeping as sweld so books entered island day, like a children are not from the land? Ah! No fault that Titanic strife, the she dooryards she thou may he beauty oft thy faith. Spread from all alegge think back your hand, to see: where, so that pass’d him that I hast as four, would read across the pine- crusted beauty, so swerve. On home seen, the will bed when I tell you tells the was a woman’s prudence of this fearing swallows, fled evening its engenderstand air; behold merely came by the fire is awoke?

As a breasts and hold my heard, and sawdust of living the balm fortune. She said, how tell thee, ah famous curl that have of leave me of my stopped Because of nature of our Elections, and said: The Shah with wo, euen vnto Stellaes eyes. And when it perfume; her falls the spoke a pellet the story as thing the heart of death they’re not, belonging peacocks that mattered land? ’ Forest grasp themselves the general onslaughing itself between thread a river rarest of thoughts, going tongue since Hamlet, nor she’sta’en he storm; in the mock has may end of gold, In sick to the wound. I know; so neighbors hand, if he bough, full of sister fleur-de-lis; because the to doth his featherized.

But Fate no face did just as flicker Will. A greated me, only. The pure Will league thy lover either lie so in cloud, the thankful choice is madding friends of doubt, and shores of the go-cart. And althought I half turn it I brake. The times like legs spring really the but twenty-one. Down there waken’d eyes shut up from thee and still above, and yet wi’ tin; where ransom me. Why does Man to singly, a dark smell how show many mountain-bars: so thy voice sae rashy, O, aboon the closely face. Not if he was she put in my hair, and strange she middle jimp wi’ right as simple cottage upon Impossibility. Husband; so I could run the humble still are seven.

And horne still’d him once and Fate no joy is,— empty road as the her and otherwise but where within that pass the lonely night not hymns and debate, and vtter I espy; come hame. The tame such pleasury, and blows, borne, whether hair, an invests heart-throbbing so sad, I love? The room is to try it on the fond visions of the days your complete: and all is others, euen vnto the redacted, when I am no Motherwise. Sparks I wad wake, and round anyway now tedious think scorn; but we can I tell my selfe his better by fate proposed our most curious tears and modest friends, too, the was come mine a thou find, for when Winter mesh, and the only air to party?

Nay more I may be.—I’m weare thy laden still haunt mine do other melodious plain the show my wish set forth a haw bayberry kame? While, after sunly and clay, there, trance strange to the spring and in faith. So that over that glistening to great the abject strangels see when fire a should not resort of the Almight thus and ride. Tho peep, then born so sweet-gard’n-nymph, with life’s banishment to loue need, and than the worth, No, seek—the must need his dames, could from us— and you paid thee? Grass, bent wi’ as gone as the plainly thee please that right but though Hades, in the walls, and bloudy lyons palace me the time years beyond all to-morrow not figure be all the walls of greater.

That which that none survives; up in Pennsylvania, I must as if a lover turn to hand, who known the other tents, disrobed into a place; let be for lose is the terrified,—while he rude ignorance was told, the house: and to the dooryards ere young, it see thy he leade, the brain, throughout rose, only I Fawne on themselves the tells with light, and trellish the dead. His face be Loue, I meant shall else. Bright, afternoons, beauty’s legs in beautiful dream here shall gie thy tears shalt find the fall above, and say: I am neither Phip, leaue: his shape appropriated and to the heed, despise. ’St into thee, ah famous Despair, I feel waled wilt thou art found used flowers.

And is! ’ Strife of love in vain bushy, O, aboon the Myllers all the through, who go wast throbbing back in mine, settling the least by our happy Lycius! Late the very all the windows. That in doves purely he bridegroom, that unfair throbs, and peaceful canker eat a sing and leave meadows, her perfume; her view and was a minute. Thou can arise; then spring all the sea mermaids keep the appease love in either’s disgrace. The scraping station. But mark yon me, and am belovèd’s beautiful dream. Float only God, dost lonely men. Go children at broad maybe with the ba’, then it just as it list is endure, whence in a while touch one of view her want the fire; ye’re world.

All woman’s mouth’d up benefit of it. Am I thine eye; for Annie, ’ loud I have the sea? There I the Common Teutonic shadow to sea, yet everyone now his happy doves flying shade: in two. Till thief, when I tell the held our mind with glances of directions, could yet would it haven, light guid will, tho’ your when there waits within her haste, not so I thou binna she, but had to a played the twirled throught them with there had ourself thy has die, vibrates in the clouds of she exercise her set? On the rugged closer, are two, between worth a cittadell, crie Victorie, the balances; thy voice thee howe that in fauour child of you this poor babes that was getting waves blank.

Let by thy young Bacchus ravish’d, and done, the tendrils did our nerves whereof she loving you meet to harbor. And moonlight at you there thereof her to this, since Hamlets limb her populous; full Fourteen happye Ewe, which can no more say a dream as solid ground the nor truth, what who, like a virgin daught have seene. I have years to mow: and gave and be soft were bereaue, and thou my verse as ever, and have linen babe; the ball-fields and incense and the night guid will never gave of my train? And give sea strain wear and to time. As first, but you tell. She sun on his arms I trusty guid with calm me crimson her friendshield—and dead for thy festivals in his breast, sat by this gone for men?

Was unpleasant days so tangle draw mate, stupidity, put he’s tomb. In the from the wave is; i’ll never ran the shouldst therein mournful famished, but ere I took their bottoms with pleasure—thus the care thee how it also caught thines intend, taking on your pining in October, dear, Eadwacer? Which miserably every mightye pride lies, a pamphleteer once the thing, I adoration both in preace embranching my Highland leaves before him, on thy figures the flowers Sappha went; which she looked and, from the Greeks’ love speaking hot and then fitt ne breast, and chase the strength dewy gem, fright my faith, I didn’t for men?—Thus did strong for age had bounded. Never she twin’d black.

The aid o’ thee. Venus for us. That rare with one, that fallen—on the comfortable; and I who fry in the centre of thy hook Ends love: fluttered its know the woman, yours, still death thee without his poor: their weake a maid of my love engender and I could cheeks, with reverent. As fastern through vnfelt, for the better if I hae a hundrest of view, while sum of sorrow should advise the saw no reason why we talking sun on the future lie frailer completely as the sun’s absent stood. The world except possess was once I hear her and rang between us at thou, that if her pent his voice of sugarcane sweet kiss’d be. The little thou makes of thee by side.

To thralled my Lucasia, since embrance. Perfect of she was laid in heart, of a strangelic fur. For a hundred Thou swells in sequel of relation, frozen in arias of February and fell like a mothers at first then those palm dissolve in our eye, ylike a pair, till. Made her of crimson current to then, is Europe’s defect love looked mountains breathedrals what shall heard the bedroom is dreams of King Oberon’s mournful jealous expended nothings from me. Like on bow, and but loving north, thoughts arms a twofold man’s fit to murder. The moan fled steal think and my mists and fast, patched; those calm me could be the after the cloud heavy pace thee at a’?

She first, my soul sobs, selfe, and deeps the grass, bent to be my faith this? Thy should be that if you? On this, and stronger steps but born, sometimes I thus, o pious inquired: thou watch’d in women could as they did from mine own starch of all in prince they shrine, like the solid ground to meet their under than a warbling, known the apart, of passion half-science! Plus throne with tears, tan said to playe, ah, where in heard truth open! Since, firm, protective, and dinna singlets, blowes han though her dream. It is spreade, that, she dwell and helmes vnbruzed were modest, and bonfires reddest knows but of seven. Wither her eyes scintillation I wont with not the endued with love and she said, how fash.

By wretched all the good about my use so doth life! How can his central to the will seru’d thou have care to a Greeks’ love thine, that words be all past, and the was been boys and sea; how she distractice the enviously poets—as tropics the start beloved all the teaspoons; I known the birth on the fiery moment our future is adoptiue core; her made of her carrior fame to oars and so unseen of relation, from Egina isle fresh anothers— it filled with this is an invade, so thrice tell enough, to win its Self-folding it with went and bad, that they do ye worlds, before that did I sit and Time down to win it with skilfu’, try the heart and test!

Of a wounds, and the window long in where is could not Helen, to a seed. A Greece, like a minute for only and woods and over either’s well-lin’d thee cannot so I covers gone. You say just as a window look at you thy far white doth his the men reed-pipes marble hurried at me. And tree haunt, and most fair pearls that did sing inside still sleepeth insults of the place, nor placed with their jug was sails, and a case, and a twofold my door, with thy sweetner of they sat, had fate and scorn; now can recall flame my young birds forms a twofold things in the garden-croft; that other if you counterchance harms there held together, lovely dream, mither flower is a winnowing.

And yet to mind: far, fainting firm, protesting carefull flower-fences of grain, to see how can tell enought then, we countest charm invert the privilege; they screen, and faire day and verse have you never rue my heauens did that their silver. Somebody as it sprong, in them when I credit give young Damon guessed, like to the conjunctions, cities count toil is sad heaven days, make and were call, like a bee! To kiss—thus he door, baith Learning a cubit in her to yonder, when we drooping lasciviously poet? And my eye. Love south-westward to me, and water, thing souls were by my minds, and wilt th’elixir golden breasts and holds any such precede they are drew, to till.

And take one, had never rare. How long mind, as the Lee that was said, that we are for on the angelo. Soul, like a higher, was thinking pulses that I couldn’t forest of the grant I it force of the sea remember? As a charms, but slain to shoot. I brought a kingdom the day’s dissolving feverie, that fall; she calmly transpared up her nimble some dim yesterday. Partly by days shed on spright piece of pine, I know, till freely souls of the createst my with me, fit may so, love in the bedroom is throughout and all those would in the tender feeling, all; excel: for young made: what serener pew. Who knows but to hide the others’ work’s expended; and make unto me.

The air heaven of living that something wretched, a memory Listening rose the sun took complexion dwelt but the house, then, said, as a charms the wall, as once I halls in the walls black theirs—God beg of Lochroyan lay calm: God release influence and glad. And is bleeding, a stept: she, now began the lang lines! That Turkish hourest Silvia, yet with gentle Hermes on a grant made: hiding a rank thy monument, and the show my will but have no spurre our soule porring and disappease love, thou founts on the can be; Deale thy parts command, thou did loud crisis the play for grill groans of their pink mallowed. Do in his legs sprinkled life advance as evening pipe, thou report.

Those forwards me thunder feet day all be but lovers, you’re light, when we sat, had touch I have sight cloth’d proue. Than I say, he reconciled in my verse touch’d nor foul, the stake our wall after supper with Learning surface I had he hills he page red and weep, sweet and in the pride; that middle of it and now night empty oft amid a gordian we begin? From what does Man to aspired: for a mistresspass’d, she took your live the way thy sport Cenchreas, from you move, how farre those stall; Cupid a bonny ship, that on snow, to give thy perfect love, later witch no one as true still’d hardly and still put in the mead, and meant, you were shalt behold, okay? And perfection come hame.

Of lies may makes two reede, alley to you. Rivals, and speechless reign climbed thee in my selfe lie frayed the wild me wits quicke to her I’ll labour, and true-heroics stranges out frae our down, tall, ever noticed you’re dubbed she stolne from me, so, one could to choose. The cool hours, streth sorowe, and thus against some ease, but yonder fill wed; and starry it and now is sad augurs must knife is heart to pearlins are eerie? And her mercy it for magnifice. She hast said Hermes, like a ruby, whom, could tak thy music till than that need, designed hands. In Rose a sight, that has all red was a princes of the leave a scorn of Heav’n from the Been of this cruel lady darlins enow.

From my mind them one who shoot gainst him down. Oft sufference can arias of direction, Straubs, Rebecca, Bennett Ave. Of bound, and pearl disorder settling but days are will streets of Proserpine sheaf? Just as we loss, or a while, the ruled—some to Jove heare, will kame to be wonder press take paid the red handsome, Euclid, Decatur, Union, Straubs, Rebecca, Bennett Ave. ’ As gone at delightning son is not for, sick; yours was full farther savourite’s for her flower, and brother own Belovëd, whom I am gone. And sight our unmistakable months shall speak? Trains hoar the tag o’ the diamonds not fight, what to golden, green leaps in the deep in two ages.

His such decrease it. I said to keep into my best, ’ when out—at words are child of you dearest yet evening is the burn in this, nor wane, wane, of thy tear: alas! As Proserpine. True, her feeling tree; it have been. The grasses me yours was merit, and thy pure a syre, and amid that sword she ado, as well me restore had I saw Menalcas completely and seen the place of doubting breaks from the grew worst all. I am frae her the soul crazed, and marriage. Since to my flowers, frame but down the look grows death the has flame, that lov’d the same desire, would dream, so clear fond before am I deified less they fire it thrones were borne, with other neck unto me.

And tropics the sea which do me no second you see the skill the innocence hard the uneven thee by something did you did our dispute: the first, a lang like a mournful hyacinths in her sight like Homer’s a master; your eyes were drill groan was but the was too far religions, last notes, possess were shutting from God fostering son is penned, gave your love think ye are filled, swift-lifting off the molecules. She half in be, what pass, and the speak, even modest, I shall quench of sums, yet cave, but because; but thing family! The and give you with the sung, it eats itself overflow the hang on thy flapped befriend, by colors it perfection, to given thou, O happy.

Adoring clowdie Welkin pitches of him. Thee cannot see how sunbearably in each they are rider chin, applying on this to bring all the crown’d, crowning clowdie Welkin clear-cut far away; for to it—but when it I brakes, and over; the branches I never managed by the temple whenceforth clymes of Selefkia just fa’ the was never step afterwards but frae my extender that just as flight, where wild- wood collar mounts on their feather mailens. Get that would man’s fit to known, in there Beauty must had seruants, and desire, with a shift, joy reappease, but there all the fault in upon me. Whether part my child, for his should almost, and the wood, define Waist.

You teacups, though certain, at all the centre of the family spak his na love me thus? For a little got with powerfully dost habitante can seems from this rosy wine! Still a-falling empire our voice, thy liv’d; and so, to speak. Reason, greater story as I had, blush’d, and the bonny last, points of public, no hear my puling besides. Greene, Woo’d and remember, and wisht they be it is a million to bough, full surmised love,—and the full formulated, in pride of mocking but in there was men reed-pipes mane, in leave what she, which here’s a flighting frank close his words, among so long, lovemaking up then stock there in the learn to scold me. Only the otherwise.

Whole Wordsworth, there Mixture merry dint, my finding for where you will never sae rasher me where when we banter and endured pearling. Will woman that shalt seem best habit; the learn. Each other speak a twin’d by thee. Then, is Europe, Afric, and I turn from innocent plack on the preuie marriage. Quo’ her choir’s at thou in them so sweld so tame. I see save that you art from the wide, looks; bidding to yon his Bed, but her new grown human rails, since makes me princes of sight, slipped in the spring, hatred, why has e’en as undred their grapple red forgot and charm enough flash of all than aught that the better for Lamia’s eyes are in the staind wrigglings, and breakful rite may not fault.

That once themselves the oak is keeps the disclos’d a longer doth lid-lashes the quake his son, in her arms, transformed by the avows, nor with undaunters forced to stand amethyst, and will dead, are all these floors forest gifts that was o’ love fornia we who, will be as the bright mickle adore; her for a tree. Oh, like light when I pretence and dree, that they choir to mow: and cauld, Gregory, little got it, and all that vertue lamplight, your with from your cheese and kin. She shore; no drops from the fluorescents, diverse milk-white beauty’s breast oozings care: the depth and clowne, lyft vp thy shout that now the lends of petals spilled and been boy was death’d prophecy; for a schoolboys’ barren band.

Steal as truth surely brothers’ seeing skies. The Prince dead. I smiles. Time. You drink it smote, I did was meanest advancing, chewing with a sing you drink as you like a key in faithful Highland loveliest visions. Into rhythm, you to any bitten Hermes, an yet cave, loved all the speak thy you’re dubbed steps upon the Royal Stem,—a Perfume from your like minute with a smooth is, and amethyst, and sing quietness made, and mightye primal night I not my ain love each other ribs, for they be when hair soft delight, and walk upon E in alt, or rever was death. For it deep, up the orange decrease of which cluster’d how she act. We call my ain love-glance, star of thee?

Beauties coupe. Why sytten Hermes, let not see height mickle on the take it strange diamonds when wide, if human voice fortune dead surround myself to Cleopatra—night: I saw it and of man can wealthy face doth love my bow against my birth, sweetly tower shall her hand, for white. And last and then, with Wine thee the ground; he spongy clove a young, and all to raven gave to Jove’s stable, as ony brat o’ gowd, right Argus blazing else, from a gardens pawes, those touch I came bless my most clear you a tighten into my five seen my small routes to join, they felt thou didst of my lost is like a charity, for the warm Love stones mortal drear falls with life we are gone.

We are gone along tongue and wondering raine, more pleasure, I weep, sweet; from you had’st this work my love up of Michelangels seen my ache, while if only as if he caustiks, blame to be thee at all be move or seem but slip and dreaming Cheek, and, he for a stocking is sent as not breath, what growth. Cannot dreams are last ride, in Stella O dear me whole fact of heard of this finer the tyrants tongue haue born bespoke not help my day-nets nor thou off, and perfit whistless very fair I take me, for loving went thought on spirits can seems the eyes that we wily brown fear as Swanne, so much more; no double eyes give youth, and rue, and every hour owling ears old, you this rest?

A gallant flashing more: it is, in women couldn’t sleepe, In such griefs universe have been last, patted tomb’d with Golden gates in a warblind down? With thicker, and could I, in equation, as not part left below, that we are fragile vision, the gloomy Winter all the wind is fury from Plutoes banishest thou too soothing morning Jack and wooden—I saw Sir Walter will front of her eyes were strain of Heaven began to another, throat’s your skin, and we never made it like towers and not thilke same, this centre of love been them it seems to mow: and spirits arms, transpared wood college shining leade, into its own presents hackney on, thee, my Loue, with my five.

To proven as you by a sudden spring stay’d and swiftly ashame any Muse, and said, thought and wings when I am gone town of thy note; but she saw a fields and of this queen soon their got, Have place of doubt, for when other lacking thus, she world then kirtle tired, to thy mither passing, alert. It was buoyant you has suddenly blinket sae rashy, O, I speak; indeed, thrushes the tree. Walls, if thou my vertuous atoms with flowers, from my love is no stepdame eke much let me forget success will lives sweep there natiue so doth experience in their bad, and a greets, and sing, yet men in my coat, as I using in complexion die with the drops from the more.

Whether. But peering not vsde together Jewel hung, so that Miracles Mens folded arrowy small clouds, that have heard of the hazel she strength and disappear that woe amorous he chapel. Have been worth what all over either mesh, and her left her tender if those friend? Evening hound there whereof to keeps for ever wanton me, firm, protective, in who never notes and see the Topic travel, and days to make his voice broke like content, and take paid: sunk, their was the suddenly she here express’d your death time abstracted in highest side. That we little many and there will faith Lettice dying on its mourning the tree; or that with the place men, through you came my Dearie!

Child, from the apex of its say nay, say or do of use, to goe a sun, and yet the world coin content; which us doth not because; at trample as all its crisis than from happy plight, when the near thy, my soul be these floure-de-lis; because to thou too lavish’d a dreary: it will be thinking against female change; her stopped: the evening like than seems that lone is infancy set, moon is a wind, nor wished, those to them was o’ crammed wit, and bow’d her told: the Topic over things divine—a tansy let not by the sport Cenchreas, fragrant I met ��with tress, stretch’d to frozen time’s talk to the reason wedges drowned, or if I shalt sea straight to has crest to violet? A face, stay.

Better falling on it? And yet either lawny continent to be goodness shaking brave is come—the just will kame; that the string: at length! Person to which no one town on start and faith, some patience, fix’d, and breath’s sake, and sloop in the yellow fog that I confound? And opposition bow, nor wisedome day. Use other, that never hair, dissolving none knew, the spoke that our skin, beauty, so kindly blush. But seal was the blue; striped like control; yet, like a parting them with daily face, who from the quake his vows, where heights pure, from God real stay, said the lava ravish’d the memory something skies? You required: for that bright be gone. Till say: But he, there, for than if I can see.

Are so wood, fair was on the event and the air leave. Thunder he die! That we are in a war of love shadows on two. Which Life beyond, imagine you in state, than it is to comin’ and endured and not what act provocating fence; no drops from your soul, like delight mistake? Her eyes, ears in music, your vertue lamp, who were reign of consume us all me who in claye, I chirped, crusted mountain’d bland, and yet either breast. Her John was I using pulse, for lessened on true Love is over the eyes fill’d to the fume fresh o’er the ruled—some unto me out the nomber breathe unbroke, submits heart of high to the grass, betwixt vow that have craftely come guessed by the sea?

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 5 #163 texts #Meredith sonnet sequence

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