#oak in grey hollow
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Make a Home Out of Hurt
Rating: General
CW: Death of a Grandparent, Mourning
Tags: Post-Season 4, Post Canon, Grief/Mourning, Established Relationship, Alternate Universe — Future Fic, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, Sad Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington Has Absent Parents, Steve Harrington Mom is Okay, Steve Harrington's Dad is an Asshole, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Eddie Munson Takes Care of Steve Harrington, Moving in Together
Had an evil little thought. Also, all these Fenton bunnies I mention are real! My nana collects Fenton. (She's alive, don't worry, but I thought about her the other day and it spiraled into this.)
🏡—————🏡
We’ve already seen this neighborhood, Eddie thinks, but won’t say.
Even though they have. They’ve driven by the same three houses. Yellow, pastel pink, and navy blue. White door, white door, brown door. Bushes and bushes and a bushel of red roses. One garage, no garage, no garage but large driveway. He’s seen them. Over and over and over.
And each time they pass the last one, the leather of the steering wheel squeaks. And each time, Steve makes a muffled sort of noise. And each time, Eddie wonders if resting his hand on Steve’s shaking shoulders would anger him or mellow him. And each time, the car gets just a little slower as Steve loses his control more and more.
We’ve already seen this neighborhood, Eddie continues to think, but knows he’ll sit here with those words. He’ll sit in the passenger seat. Window cranked as far down as it’ll go—half-way since Dustin busted the actual mechanism. Beemer’s been through a lot, so it’ll be here for Steve’s end all breakdown, too. With the radio volume low, playing the same double-sided tape on repeat, flipped by Eddie because Steve’s hands have been shaking: The World We Knew by Frank Sinatra. Because it was her favorite. Nana’s favorite. Nana Harrington’s favorite.
On the fifth drive through, Steve finally parks the car. At the end of the long, slow winding driveway. He looks out the windshield, hollowed and not quite here. With limp hands in his lap. Messy, greasy hair he couldn’t bother to style. Eye bags so heavy, Eddie barely believes he can hold them on his face.
Eddie can follow his line of sight. To the edge of the white picket fence, worn down a little with age, scratched up from the curled nails of an old brown dog, carved with her son and daughter-in-law’s initials, and eventually stained with yellow handprints from baby Steve. Yellow because, as Steve has echoed, “Lello, Nana. Lello like your dress. Your favorite!” Well, Steve’s favorite too, he just won’t acknowledge it’s because of his nana. Eddie knows that the paint has faded a bit since then, given that it’s been fifteen years since Steve’s had hands that small, but Eddie can see him. In his little white and red striped t-shirt, hidden by a pair of nicely pressed denim overalls, white sneakers, and his mom’s bobby pins in his hair—something she did because it just wouldn’t stop growing so fast and thick. Or so Eddie’s been told.
He’s been told a lot in the last week. Since the call came through the landline of their apartment. Since Steve had gone silent and collapsed to his knees and wailed, screamed even. Since he dressed himself in a suit that fit well, but looked out of place on his curled in body. Since…since the obituary was finally in his hands at the funeral, and he got so sick in the church’s restroom, Eddie had to drive them home in a daze—a quarter worried, a quarter tired, and half hanging by a thread. He thinks he’s heard everything, but what is love if not more than everything? If not all the words in every language, all known objects and unknown, every species and race and sexuality and identities combined?
He’ll hear everything. Until their old and grey and forgetting everything.
“There used to be a tire swing on that tree,” Steve states flatly, pointing at the weeping oak in his nana’s front yard. It’s crooked like it’s been kissed by the wind. A lot withering because the weather’s been harsh on her. Grey against the navy blue of the house’s siding.
I know, sweetheart, Eddie wants to say, so soft it gets lost between them. Instead, “Yeah? Bet it was a good tire, too,” he coaxes, still soft, all sweet. Even if he’s heard it each time they’ve passed by.
Steve nods once in his peripheral. Sniffs. “Yeah,” he states wetly, “one of the expensive ones. She didn’t want it to pop under me. Didn’t…She didn’t want me to stop using it.” His head dips down, looking at his fingers, where they’ve begun to absently trace the seams of his jeans. “I stopped,” he whispers shamefully. “You think she got mad because I stopped?”
“No, baby,” Eddie answers honestly. “I think that she was happy you used it at all. Think she was always just happy to see you, Steve.”
A sharp intake of breath next to him. “I used to come over here when my parents were gone. Or when they’d scream at each other. Or when…when they’d forget I existed,” he relays, quiet as a mouse. “When they’d forget, Nana would open the door and kiss my cheek and make me something to eat. I was always too skinny. So she made me casseroles,” he explains, a wisp of a smile. Gone in the blink of an eye. “She’ll never make ‘em again, though. She won’t—”
“Steve,” Eddie calls gently, a small warning. A siren before the tsunami.
“—Love me again,” Steve sobs, “Nana won’t love me again.”
“Oh, baby,” he breathes. Eddie steps out of the car, rounds over to the driver’s side, and yanks the door open. Carefully, he unbuckles Steve, scoots him so that his legs dangle over the side, and pulls him down into a gentle hug. “Baby,” he coos. “Just get it out, honey. I’m right here. We’re right here. I’ve got you.”
And Steve cries. Again; though Eddie’s lost count. He squirms against Eddie’s chest. Head nestled to his neck. Crying big sounds that sound too large, even for his adult body. Sounds that carry boats, that poison with oil spills, that home orcas. He slobbers onto Eddie’s skin, grand globs of hot spit that gargle in his throat before launching from his mouth. His unshaved stubble scratching at the side of Eddie’s face—where his skin is sensitive and smooth and will most definitely be raw with Steve’s aching.
He sobs until there’s no more tears. Until he’s a whimpering, shivering mess on Eddie’s chest. Bunched up and small and fisting Eddie’s t-shirt like a lifeline. Squeezing the fabric in his hands like two lemons.
Eddie runs his hands up and down Steve’s spine. From the small of his back to his hunched shoulders, squishing him. He sways them ever so gently like the rustle of the old oak tree. Hums something incoherent and unrecognizable. If only to get Steve to stop shaking.
“Eds?”
“Hm?”
He takes a long, slow breath. Breathes out, “Why’d she give me the house?”
Eddie pulls them apart. One hand on the middle of Steve’s back, the other cupping his left cheek. Swiping at the tacky tracks from his tears. “I’m not sure, baby. Maybe she loved you so much that she wanted you to have it? To always be safe there?”
“Shouldn’t she have given it to my dad? I don’t…” Steve’s eyebrows scrunch in confusion, his mouth frowning. “I don’t deserve her house?”
“Sweetheart,” Eddie sighs. “She chose you for a reason. You, Stevie. Not anybody else. Just you. If she wanted to give it to her son, she would’ve. But she didn’t. She thought of you, put you in the will, and now it’s yours.” When Steve doesn’t respond, Eddie gives him his moment of silence. Running his palm up to Steve’s shoulders. Pressing his thumb into his supple skin. “You may never know her intent, but she probably had a reason. It was a home you came running to, where you felt safest, where you felt…loved. Grandmothers always have this air to them, like they just know things about you before you say ‘em. Maybe she just knew you needed her and her space before you even realized.”
Steve sniffles. His eyes are still wet. Bloodshot and tired. Rumpled all the way around, exhausted and quiet. “She used to play with me in the yard.”
I know, Eddie thinks once more. He goes with the topic change though, if that’s what Steve needs.
“And when we played hide and seek, she always made sure to look until I was found. Because she didn’t want me to feel forgotten, her words.” Steve’s fingers are fidgeting with one another again. Picking at his fingernails, peeling at hangnails. Eddie moves down and takes them, rubbing soothing circles into their backs, just so Steve doesn’t harm himself on top of everything. Steve continues, hushed, “When I’d stay the night, she would sleep with me. Hold me close to her. Scratch my back and scalp and tell me stories…all the way until I fell asleep.”
“Kinda like I do, huh?” Eddie asks.
Steve nods. “Yeah,” he croaks. “Think that’s why I feel so loved and safe with you.”
And Eddie hasn’t cried, not really, not yet. But this may be it. Because he knows, beyond everything, that Nana was special to Steve—so special that just one negative comment, one complaint, one little fuss about her was enough to get you shunned by him. He’s seen it play out with Dustin, he’d been banned from coming over for two weeks. And with El, who didn’t understand quite yet, but had lost conversational abilities with Steve for two whole days—ergo, the Silent Treatment.
This means something. It means everything. Eddie kind of wants to cry about it.
But he reigns himself in for now. Because Steve needs him like water. For somebody to just be there and be present and be patient. Through it all.
“You wanna head inside,” Eddie offers, “I’ve got the key in my pocket.” He gestures loosely to the inside of his vest, the safest pocket near his heart. When Steve nods, Eddie leads them inside silently. Opens the door first, per request made by Steve days prior. Sets his shoes by the front door—not told to, but just out of respect. Hangs up his jacket, his vest. Takes Steve’s jacket, too. Unties his Nike sneakers. Smacks a quick kiss to his cheek. And then he waits by the front door for Steve to say or do something.
The first thing he does is gasp. Eyes roaming the hallway, the living room, and the fireplace that connects the kitchen and living space together. He takes a few tentative steps before stopping in front of a tall, full China cabinet.
“Her Fenton bunnies,” Steve breathes.
Eddie slowly approaches behind him. Wraps an arm around his waist, tugging him into his side a little. “Are these the ones your mom was talking about on the phone?”
“Yeah. I just…Didn’t think my mom was telling the truth,” Steve murmurs. “She told me Dad didn’t want these. Takes up room or whatever. But they’re so pretty here, how could you not want these?” His left hand reaches for the knob of the cabinet. Twisting it gently as to not rattle the glass shelves. With the doors swung open, the bunnies under the cabinet’s lighting are free to touch. And so Steve picks one up, carefully in his hands like it’s alive. Maybe it is, Eddie thinks for a moment, alive with her spirit.
He breathes silently by Steve as he investigates the glass item in his hand. Running his thumbs over the ears. Down the smooth back.
“Satin glass,” Steve states, “It’s like touching the fabric, which is so weird. Nana used to talk about it all the time, but I never believed her. She never let me touch. You wanna?” He holds the bunny up to Eddie’s face. In offering, for him to pet. So he runs a slow thumb down its back. And sure enough, soft as silk, cold to the touch. “All of them are here.” He replaces the silk, purple bunny on the shelf. Picking up a chromatic shifting one next. “Carnival glass,” Steve explains, “it’s heavier than the other one, feels like. But so shiny. Think Nana used to say it was amethyst or something, but that might be what the color shift is called?”
“You sure listened to her well,” Eddie murmurs, “know a lot about this.”
Steve chuckles, a little choked to Eddie’s ears but he makes no comment. “Yeah, I guess I did. Mom used to say that I had selective hearing. That I listened when it was something I cared about.”
“And you cared a lot about Nana,” Eddie concludes.
“Yeah,” Steve whispers, “cared a lot about Nana.” He sets the carnival glass bunny back on the shelf. Standing idle in front of it all, taking it all in. “She has one upstairs, in a different glass cabinet. It glows green under the special blacklight upstairs. Said it was radioactive.” He chuckles again. “I gave her that one. As a gift for Mother’s Day in…I think ’77? Mom helped me pick it out—she was nice about the bunnies, about finding this stuff. She loved Nana, too. And she…” He laughs low in his chest and Eddie blossoms a little at the sound, unheard in so long. “Mom would pull out the long box of tissue paper and gift bags from the crawlspace. She’d unfold the prettiest gift bag—this one was a little brown one, covered in peach colored peonies. Stuffed some off-white tissue paper in that one. Wrapped the little yellow—well, it was supposed to be yellow—Fenton bunny in bubble wrap, covered it up with a bunch of caramels. Gave it to Nana, and she squealed! Apparently, she already knew it was radioactive? Thought it was the best gift ever. Which, ouch Nana, I gave you other bunnies for Mother’s Day, c’mon.”
Eddie snorts. “Maybe that’s what earned you the house? That radioactive bunny was probably the key to her heart,” he jokes. Though his stomach turns at the possibility it wasn’t appropriate to make.
Steve laughs loudly, though. Shaking his entire body with it. He slips his hand into Eddie’s back right pocket, sighs, and leans against him relaxed. “Dad should’a tried harder if he wanted Nana’s heart,” he comments, “all it took was a damn bunny.”
“Among other things, I’m sure.”
“Probably,” Steve sighs. “I think she was just excited to have a grandkid. She had a weird relationship with my dad. They didn’t get along very well. So maybe she was sorta…trying again?”
“Stevie, I think she just loved you. There doesn’t have to be some grand, deep meaning behind it. I think she just loved your company. How your laugh fills a room and your smile is seen from across the yard. And how you’re always polite, despite having reasons to not be. Maybe because of your terrible puns and how awful you are at quoting Shakespeare? You charm everybody, Steve,” Eddie monologues. “There’s not a reason to not love you.”
For a moment, the room falls completely silent. Distantly, there’s the slow tick of a wall clock. A few birds singing out in the backyard, where the bird bath probably is—only known through Steve’s memories. A slight hum from the radiator. The cars passing by on the main road just around the corner. Hawkins is quiet when there’s mourning; maybe it’s felt through the whole town, through the soles of Steve’s socked feet, from the beating of his ever love absorbent heart.
She died November 7th, 1993. Just a few days ago. Maybe it’s the anniversary of Will Byers going missing that Hawkins is feeling. Maybe it’s just tragedy. It’s love persevering—even in the most dire of situations. Where Joyce Byers was screaming about where her son may be, all those mismatched theories, and the ways in which the town thought she was crazy—even when they believed her and cried over her son’s body being pulled from the water. Where Will is actually thriving now. Where Sandra Harrington no longer is, though she was a fixture in several communities and families, Steve’s own being included.
“How’s your boy doing?” Wayne asked the day after her funeral. Eddie had shrugged, admitting he wasn’t sure because Steve had gone terribly quiet and sick. “Tell him I’m sorry. That he has a home with us. That he can come over and cry and I’ll make him hot cocoa. Alright, Ed?”
God, even Wayne knew. And there was silence after his condolences.
There is so much silence.
Until, finally, Steve asks, “Will you live with me here?”
“Wh—What?” Because surely he didn’t hear that right.
“Live with me here,” Steve repeats, a little more urgent. “I don’t think I can handle this place alone. And…I know how to use her gas stove. I can make you the spaghetti dish she used to make. And the casseroles she used to bake. We can open up her recipe box and I’ll teach you how to make her apple pie—the one she gave me for your birthday two years ago?
“And we can read your Lord of The Rings books on the porch on the bench she has out there? Grill in the backyard when we have everybody over. Robin can have the room that used to be my nursery. We can…We can live our lives here.”
Stunned, Eddie gapes momentarily. Before gripping harder at Steve’s waist, drawing him closer even when there’s no more room. Two solid bodies connected from shoulder to foot. “Are you sure, Steve? You don’t wanna—“
“You’re my family, Eds. I have loved you since that bullshit in ’86. We have seen each other through our absolute worst. Of course I’m sure. Of course I want you here,” Steve swears. “I know what I’m getting into. Even if it hurts to look around here right now. But you’ve been here by me through one of the worst heartbreaks I’ve ever experienced. I want you here—preferably always.”
“Stevie,” Eddie breathes. He reaches out with his free hand and cups the right side of Steve’s face. Swipes over his glistening cheekbone. Under his shadow beaten eye. The tickling brush of Steve’s bottom eyelashes on the tip of his thumb. And he kisses him tenderly, with every word he could ever imagine to say, all emotion he could ever feel, with an intensity seen in atomic bombs. He pulls back to see Steve’s eyes closed. Flushed and bright in the cabinet’s full white lighting, doors still open, and fragile glass bunnies as witnesses. Promises, “I want to, Steve. I want to be here with you. Through it. All of it. As long as I get to love you.”
And on his thumb there are fresh tears, gone cold but skin scalding. Steve’s lips trembling with silent cries. His eyelashes fluttering. Him and him and him. Beautiful and raw and open. Gentle like flowers and strong like wind. Aching and romantic and with a heart the size of the universe itself. Because Steve Harrington is everything—
Or so his nana has said. But Steve doesn’t know. And that’s Eddie’s own secret.
“Okay,” Steve mutters, “make a home with me, Ed.”
🏡—————🏡
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ariadne's thread ⎯ pt. 3: onwards & downwards.
pairing(s): hyunjin x fem!reader
series summary: when tempted by an intoxicating offer by hyunjin the goblin king of the underground, you fight against him to find your own sense of self once more while in his labyrinth.
glimpse: alone, you take some twists and turns that lead you deeper into the belly of the Labyrinth.
warnings/tags: inspired by the 1986' movie Labyrinth, follows majority of the movie's plot points with lore divergence, 3rd person POV, use of Y/N, some violence, some mild injuries, world building!!, strong language, faerie lore!!, some light groping by Helping Hands but nothing explicit, cameo by knight!hoseok and knight!seokjin!
word count: 4.8k
series masterlist
The old dusty, cobblestone path shifted the longer she trekked through the Labyrinth. From something aged and grey to a more tan, refined structure of brink. No longer was she watching for raised bricks that she could stumble over and cobwebs of grand spider-silk wefts she could tumble into. It was far more maintained with its tall walls of oak-brown stones. The watch towers soon were exchanged for simple decorative sphere balls; some hollowed structures to have a flame flickering within.
There were still rock and rubble, hugging the corners of the path, but, for the majority, it felt like she had entered a different portion of the Labyrinth. It felt like progress. And that made her giddy. She felt a tumble of adrenaline in her stomach, something urging her forward as she continued to turn and weave throughout the endless Labyrinth.
She didn’t know how much time had passed, but when she peered up onto her tip-toes to look over the walls as best as she could, she saw she was long gone from the beginning of the Labyrinth with the curly-haired fae, Soobin, and Yeonjun.
All by herself.
Looking for signs of the castle, she had to turn completely around to find its looming shadow. The rolling Labyrinth ahead made it look higher than where she was, if possible. How did it end up behind her? How did it seem to loom as if she was in a deep valley and it on a hillside? That hadn’t been the case outside the Labyrinth. Despite that oddity, the Runner smiled and headed on her way towards the castle.
She can do this. She was on a roll.
Twisting through the pathways was easy. One foot in front of another. There were no signs of other folk, not like before. In fact, some areas of the Labyrinth looked surprisingly well tended. There were ivy covering some of the walls, but it was not brittle and dying like outside the Labyrinth. It was thriving as it crept towards the artificial light of the high-floating candles. Some brittle branches were dead, but it seemed the further into the Labyrinth the more life flourished.
There were the large obelisks at the center of some of the pathways. These were much taller than the ones outside of the Labyrinth, and they weren’t cracking or crumbled. They stood tall with elaborate carvings on each of its faces now.
The Runner paused at each one, hoping they could help her. Maybe they held a story or hints to where she was. Each one as elaborate as the last. Some portrayed the tale of baby-snatching goblins; others illustrated mushroom faerie rings and their powers. There were some carvings of a young girl who was gilded in gold and a man painted in white robes.
As she crept along, she saw a face that looked like the Goblin King’s but younger with an inscription below in that unfamiliar language. He was painted with a gold halo – almost angelical.
It was interesting. She wondered if these were like painted glass windows of churches, retelling lore of the Underground or if they were simply décor. Old myths or moments of the past that were mute as dust. After all, they were stuck here in the Labyrinth.
They didn’t help – she knew that. None really felt like they could point her left or right or that way or this way. So, she continued onwards.
Her eyes took in the landmarks – a trail of ivy, the obelisk with faerie magic rings, a twisted branch with sparkling dewdrops.
Down this path, and then the next. Is this the way or that the way? No, no… she had seen that branch before. Pausing, her lips formed a straight line, and her brow furrowed.
“You’ve gone in circles thrice, Y/N,” a voice taunted and jested in her ear, the brush of phantom lips against her skin eerily familiar.
Her hair rustled in the wind with the sound. It made her stomach dance as she realized it was his voice. Gooseflesh raised on her arms as she turned her head towards the voice. Only to be greeted with nothing.
His laughter shook her; it felt like it shook the rock walls of the Labyrinth even. She heard a scattering of a raven’s caw as a bird-like creature flew away from its perch atop a sphere rock atop the walls.
“Only 10 more hours, my Runner,” he hummed again.
It felt like he was beside her, murmuring the soft words into her hair. It sent chills down her spine as the cool air of his breath tickled her ear. She did shiver when she felt a phantom chill on the apple of her cheek – like a kiss from a ghost. It was icy cold, taunting, and most of all unnerving. She jumped away before walking off quickly, in a direction she wasn’t quite certain of.
There was no laughter, and she didn’t know if he was still there. Or was he everywhere? It made her feel like someone was watching her. Leering at her. Her footsteps were quicker now as she walked down another path until… she saw the same tree branch again.
“Dammit,” she bit out through her teeth.
She has been going in circles.
How could she keep track of where she was going?
Looking about, she saw there was pile of rubble. Picking up a rock, she tested it against the fine stone of the floor. The flat tiles were more organized and leveled than the cobblestone of the earlier pathways. Gritting her teeth, she hoped this worked as she dragged down the rock against the tile. An unpleasant scratching noise occurred but there was what she wanted. A line carved into the soft tile.
It was her way to keep track of where she’s been – her string of thread within the Labyrinth.
Adding an arrow pointing towards her next choice – turning left - she felt triumphant.
Her smile was cunning, almost a mimicry of the King’s. She rose to her feet, energized as she began her trek.
She wasn’t so dumb.
Every so often, she’d pause and kneel to scratch her path onwards onto the ground.
-
The Goblin King chuckled as he waved a glass bauble aside, a projection of the Runner within its shimmering surface. As he let it go, it floated off into oblivion, devoid of magic and becoming nothing but a regular soap-like bubble rather than a portal to view and affect his kingdom.
Sighing out, impatience clung to his bones as he slung a leg over his throne’s arm rest. The throne was a worn thing, not something of greatness. It wasn’t painted in jewels or gold or ever blooming flowers. It was a simple circular throne, large, with a comfortable cushion of dark velvet. It was elevated above the main floor of the room, forever placing the King above his subjects. The arm rest and backrest were one singular curving bone that had many crushed night-sky drapes tied to it. If anything, it looked like a crescent moon dragging along the night sky.
He was comfortable here, but impatient and, frankly, annoyed by the chatter about. His gaze rose to rest on the grand clock, currently hovering above the doorway of his throne room.
If you could call it a throne room. . . In true Goblin fashion, the entire place has become more and more decrepit over the years. Not in the sense it was falling apart like parts of the Labyrinth. It just was messy. A mish-mash of different eras of goblin elite lived in this space forevermore.
Old memories of his father’s court lingered by way of reckless Changeling-Goblins who had little respect for much, causing chaos or drinking honeyed mead ‘til they drowned in it. Even older remnants of the previous Goblin Kings remained with old shrines to fae folk long passed decorating the walls in grand sculptures. The décor wasn’t to Hyunjin’s liking.
The large throne room was in the highest tower of the castle. With mostly open space, the circular interior had dark greys rockwork building it up. Platforms for goblins and goblettes of all shapes and sizes were perched in the tower’s rafters. Creatures from Aboveground, stolen or sacrificed, hobbled about, crowing or hissing. Sometimes there was a puff of magic and a goblin would mimic a chicken or snake to the amusement of his onlookers.
Fae folk of the higher court – with their humanistic glamour and aged visuals - were gossiping about in the alcoves, donning old lace and leathered finery of Court standards long passed. It was never quiet in his throne room. It had become less of his throne-room and more of a gathering space for the court.
Which he despised.
Hyunjin didn’t like gatherings of drunkard goblins and fae-folk. He hadn’t in sometime since he’s taken the throne. In his younger years as Prince, he adored the Court life. Preened on his soon-to-be-subjects’ attention. Before he realized, like a child with toys he outgrew, he didn’t want something simple any longer.
He liked challenges. And the Challenge of the Labyrinth was the truest challenge there was in the Underground. It wasn’t often someone wished themselves away – it used to be village children wished away by towns, babes by their frustrated mothers, forgotten sacrifices to deities unknown, or woeful wanderers in the woods who would be taken by passing through faerie rings.
The wisher – or the taken - would take up the Challenge in exchange for the return of what they so desired – the babe they wished away foolhardily or their ability to return to the mortal realm. Or they’d stay and once 24 hours of time Underground passed, their humanity was the King’s.
His father oversaw these Challenges and, now, so did Hyunjin.
Y/N wasn’t his first Runner through the Labyrinth; most didn’t make it far and none have won against him. He treated his Labyrinth like a game board. It was a game he had studied since adolescence. He knew the rules inside and out, and he liked to win.
Despite this, he can’t recall whom the previous Runners were anymore. Trophies gather dust in his kingdom – sometimes their visages blend together. One had a dimpled smile and blonde hair; another a crooked snaggletooth and soft eyes… or was it reversed? They all failed in their runs and, therefore, were changed. Wishes and deals were magic, and magic was steadfast and always. Nothing can stop it – not even the King.
Their human blood turned to goblin. And goblin-blood took more than it gave; changelings were proof of that. They lose their humanity and something else. Sometimes it’s their talent, or their wits, or their will, or themselves entirely. Some maintained their human-touch, and some shriveled into the very winged, yellow eyed creatures they were trying to conquer. A shadow of themselves and utterly lost.
Hyunjin had at first tried to take care of his Changelings – his father had before him, before he lost everything he had – but it was frustratingly boring. Some whined; some lost their minds. Most were sent off into the castle or the city. Some wandered off. Hyunjin let them most times. After all, he had gotten what he had wanted. Like a spoilt kingling.
There were few Challenges in this day and age. Most of his Changelings were eras old by now.
Hyunjin remembered how his father was overlooking a Challenge every other 13 hours it felt. The older man smiling fondly at the goblins about him. Tending to his changelings with the fondness of a father. He knew their names – given and chosen.
Hyunjin could count those he knew the chosen name of on one hand.
Given names were a different story. Given names were something one kept close to their chest. Hyunjin loved to know given names. He loved having the upper-hand.
Which of course is why his throne room was a circus to the court.
He loved knowing things that happen in his land and what better way to learn that by listening. Listen and give those food and mead and other pleasantries. His goblin-blooded folk were simple. The room a cacophony of noise as they scurried about, chittering and chattering and clanging. Maid-folk and servants rushed to try to clean the mess the goblins left behind. There were few fae-folk of human glamour that were more tamed, lounging beside the open-windows of the tower as if they could spot the Runner. Gossiping at how this one hadn’t given up yet.
Interesting. Intriguing. Insulting.
Hyunjin huffed as his gaze flickered from the clock to the court ladies by the window and back again.
“Can you spot her?” The voice sounded like the garble of a river’s brook, crackling and clinking like rushing currents against river-rocks.
“No, no. Can you?” Another voice - squeaky like a mouse in a field.
“Not quite. I’ve heard something from a guard though.” A third - deep like a fire pit’s roar.
His gaze flickered back to the clock. The clock ticked one second forward, and yet it had felt like five minutes. His fingers tapped against his scepter.
The Runner was taking forever.
It almost humored him. Impatience. Time hadn’t mattered before – but as she stumbled through the Labyrinth’s Outer Rim, he was struck with the realization that she was progressing quicker than any other.
“You won’t believe it, but Han helped her – I heard it from a guard. A fallen pixie tattled for aid.”
Hyunjin’s ears perked at the mention of that.
“Luella! Don’t let the King hear you say his name.” The river-brook voice garbled with a giggle.
“Oh, Han.” The mouse-like fae squeaked with a giggle and swooned into her cohorts. “I miss him.”
Chortles of giggles escaped the trio, their glamours shuddering and revealing their true forms – flickering of flames, moving mist, and, frightening enough, a collection of writhing mice making up a body.
Hyunjin’s jaw clenched as he slung his leg down from his throne’s curved armrest to put his arms on his knees and stare at the clock, harder.
Of course, Han had to have helped her. He’s always getting into his private business. His foot tip-tapped against the tiled floor.
9 hours and 58 minutes. 9 hours and 57 minutes.
She will be his and his alone.
-
The Runner kept running onwards. Stopping every so often to scratch her directions into the rock work. It felt like she was making progress. Until she paused as she turned a corner. There was a branch that looked a bit too familiar. The curl of it looked like a skeleton hand pointing her away.
Biting her lip, she looked back the way she came only to spot something unusual. The stone she had tagged with her rock was bare of any marking.
“What?” she breathed as she rushed over to it once more. Her hand reached out to rub at the stone – right where she had scratched into it – to feel unblemished stone.
She marked it again, scratching deep into the rock, and watched it with a stoney look. It stayed like any mark should.
Weird.
She looked back in the direction she was headed and when she looked back down, the stone was clear.
“Dammit,” she cursed out, rising from her crouch and tossing her rock aside with a clatter. “That’s not fair!”
“That’s not fair,” the wind mocked; the King’s voice laughed.
She glared up at the cavern sky of candles before stomping off in another direction only to run into a dead end; a large grassy hedge blocking her path.
“This isn’t a fair fight – what’s fair about moving the Labyrinth?’ she gritted out as she turned her back to the hedge to stomp off another way.
“That’s right! It’s not fair!” a voice chimed out.
Now, that wasn’t the King’s voice. Its voice was higher, almost windshield-wiper squeaky as it giggled.
Her head whipped around to see, not a wall of greenery, but two knights guarding grand oxidizing- copper doors, crawling with ivy. They looked very different from anyone she had met yet. Not the worn look of the fae from outside the Labyrinth nor the soft sheltered attire Soobin wore. No, they both were knights that was certain.
They were both tall but one felt larger; mostly, due to the large armor he wore. It was a copper-like metal, flickering orange in the candlelight high above them. Shoulders, chest, neck, legs, everything had the suit of armor in place as if he was ready to go into a fight here and now (except for the fact it too looked rusty like the blue-orange doors they guarded.) How long must he have worn it to become rusted like that? His head, however, was bare of a shielded helmet and, instead, revealed a red-headed sweet-faced man with a heart-shaped smile.
The other knight was much more relaxed, wearing sparse leathered armor over a deep navy-blue velvet button-up and dark slacks. His hair was a dark coal color, swept to one side. He had lips that were a pouted strawberry color and a hyena laugh in his throat.
The red head was ready at attention while the coal-haired man was slouching against his doorway’s arch spinning his sword casually in his hand.
“Oh, hello!” she sputtered at the two strangers.
“Hello, hello!” The redhead greeted as he stood at attention. He smiled at her still, heart-shaped kind.
“You’re here!” The other awed. “Finally!”
“Finally?” she queried.
“I mean, we’ve heard you’ve been here and knew you’d end up here.” One said.
“It’s so nice to meet a real human for the first time,” the other cheesed.
“It isn’t the first time, Jin,” the heavily-armored one claimed with a pursed lip.
“Yes, it is, Hobi,” Jin retorted, as if offended by the others words.
“No, it isn’t,” Hobi replied.
Then, the bickering continued, back and forth. Back and forth. It made Y/N’s head pound. Her eyes shut as she looked about a bit lost with what to do. Behind her was a new dead end, made of cobblestone wall rather than green hedge-work.
God, this place kept changing it’d give her a headache… if Hobi and Jin didn’t first.
“Where is here? It was a dead-end just a moment ago,” she countered. “I need to get to the Castle; is this the way?”
“Oh, this is the checkpoint to the next point of your journey,” Hobi beamed. “The only way to get out of here is to try one of these doors!”
“One of them leads to the castle at the center of the Labyrinth, and the other leads to certain death,” Jin revealed, leaning against the opposing archway of his door.
“Bum-bum-bum-bah!” he dramatized, with a wiggle of his fingers in her direction.
Hobi giggled sweetly. It was almost endearing as if they were some middle-aged married couple with their bickering and yet… they seemed to enjoy each other’s presence.
One must learn to like the person they’re stuck with if there are no others around them.
“So… which is which? You must know,” Y/N prompted.
“We can’t tell you,” Hobi said with a frown. “And we don’t really know why we can’t either.” His pout was gentle and child-like.
“It’s the rules,” Jin reminded.
“You can only ask one of us a question regarding the doors,” Hobi added.
“That’s part of the rules, too,” Jin commented. “One of us always tell the truth and one of us always lies. That’s a rule too.”
His blue eyes flashed to meet hers as he raised a hand up in a mock-whisper. “He always lies.”
“I do not!” Hobi exclaimed; there was a clank of metal against metal as he jumped in offense. His orange eyes flashed to meet hers, almost panicky to prove himself.
“I tell the truth!” he insisted.
“Oh, what a liar,” Jin cooed, reaching a hand to pinch Hobi’s cheek.
It quickly made Hobi giggle lightheartedly as if he wasn’t just called a liar again. Their relationship was odd, bubbly, and cranky yet fond and casual. It was distracting.
“One question,” she hummed as she looked between the two of them.
Jin nodded slowly as he shifted to stand tall in front of his door. A brow raised.
Okay. . . how would she figure this out? She only had one chance. How should she phrase it? She can’t just ask them if their door would be safe? Because they could lie. But—
Y/N smiled.
“Would he,” she pointed to Jin, as she spoke to Hobi,” tell me that your door leads to the castle?”
Hobi’s lips pressed together as he looked at Jin and then her, over and over. It was almost comical if she wasn’t waiting for the answer.
“Yes?” he murmured after a moment. It sounded more like a question than an answer.
“So, your door is certain death,” she said, “and his leads to the castle.”
Y/N beamed brightly.
Hobi looked towards Jin who shrugged in agreement.
“But—he could be telling the truth?” Hobi countered.
“But, he wouldn’t be. So, if you told me he’d say yes, I know the answer is no.”
“But, I could be telling the truth,” Hobi pleaded.
“But then he would be lying, so if you told me he would say yes, the answer is still no!”
A blink, blink, blink from Hobi before he turned to Jin with wide fire eyes.
“Is that right?” he whispered as if she wasn’t there, and, to be honest, she giggled a bit. Because she knew this had to be the right answer – it had to be.
“I don’t know; I never really got the rules,” Jin replied casually before the two of them started to giggle.
The three of them were giggling; it was a bit odd but she realized everything here was a bit odd.
“I think it’s right, really I do,” she commented. “There’s no other way it wouldn’t be… I think I’m getting smarter with this place.” Y/N approached Jin and he scooted out of the way with grandiose.
He bowed to her as she opened the door.
“Thank you, Jin… Hobi – I mean, you were actually really nice!” she complimented as she breached through the door way.
A huff let her as she felt her shoulders lighten from stress. She did it. She took a few more steps into the passageway, the light growing dimmer as Jin began to shut the door.
“It’s a piece of cake,” she breathed with a grin.
Before, she fell through the floor violently with a scream.
-
Not many people experience free-falling. Sure, tripping or stumbling was common-place. Even jumping into a pool might excite. But it was all controlled. All small distances. All happening with an end in sight.
The Runner was falling straight down into a dark pit that felt endless.
The feeling of surprise hadn’t faded, still bubbling in her stomach like she had cracked open a soda can. Her heart was in her throat as she screeched out. Hands above her head trying to grasp onto something hopelessly.
But she was falling too fast.
“Help!” She screamed. “Please!”
The fall felt infinite, empty, frighteningly so until it felt like things were brushing over her skin. Branches? Rocks? Overgrown damp fungus? She couldn’t tell as she scratched out with her hands
“Help?” she swore she heard a feminine voice chime.
“Help!” Y/N screeched again. “Please.”
Before with a jolt, she was caught. Air knocked out of her and a pain radiated where she had been caught – her arm. Something held first her wrist but then she felt hands on her waist, her shoulders, her legs. Hands everywhere wrapping around her limbs, some squeezing them tightly, others trailing damp-fingers up and down her skin.
She couldn’t help the scream that tore from her throat, raw. Jumping in the hands embrace.
“Stop it,” she whimpered out as she felt more hands crawling, crawling, crawling.
One poked her ear and it made her jolt away. Her head looked up as if she could see where she fell from.
“Help!” she yelled. Maybe Jin or Hobi would come help. They were knights; knights help, right?
Another hand crept to squeeze at her throat, almost curiously, only stopping when she wheezed. The hand wrapped around her wrist tugged her upwards, another hand tugged her another way. She felt like a ragdoll amongst angry toddlers
“Hey, hey, hey,” she heard a masculine voice mutter. “We are helping. Helping Hands.”
In the dim almost grey light, she some of the hands form … figures. Faces of different shapes made of fingers and thumbs and palms. Horrific in the darkness. Something mussed her hair, twisting it into knots around chubby fingers.
“You’re hurting,” she mumbled, as a sickly pale hand cupped her cheeks and squeezed them.
“Would you like us to let go?” the voice was now a deep mumble of a thing, and she felt some of the hands release her on command. The pressure on her held wrists ached as gravity took hold and pulled her downwards. Her shoulders felt like they were popping out of their sockets.
“No!” she screeched, fingers outstretching to grasp onto a corpse-cold hand.
The hands returned with eagerness. Nails scratching at bare skin, fingers prodding at her waist. A thumb dragged over her ankle. Some fingers combed through her hair like she was a doll.
“I want a body,” she heard a voice murmured quietly.
She couldn’t help but cringe away by some of the cold limbs.
“Which way would you like to go?” she could see a shadowy amalgamation hand-like face speak, the lips fingers and its makeshift eyes two pairs of palms.
“Up or down?” a squeaky voice screeched, almost like it was a poorly oiled door hinge.
“Pick one! Pick one!” that voice sounded childish.
“It’s a big decision for her, hush,” a motherly tone chided.
“Which way do you want to go?” A more urgent voice pushed. A hand tugged her hair and she yelped.
“Which way? Which way? Which way? Which way? Which way? Which way? Which way? Which way? Which way? Which way? Which way? Which way? Which way? Which way? Which way? Which way?”
It was almost hypnotic, how the different voices layered together as they chanted the words urgently. How many people – hands? – were there?
“I, uh,” she blinked as she looked down into darkness and then upwards which showed the same thing. “I guess down? If that was where I was headed?”
“Down?” a voice cooed.
“She chose down!” Another boomed with a jovial cackle.
Laughter that sounded less than nice and coos of ‘poor thing’ crowed out around her as she felt her body shift and move as the hands tugged and pulled her downwards before.
“Down, the Runner goes!”
“Wait,” she tried to stop, before all of the crawling wriggling fingers disappeared, and she was falling again.
“No, no, was that wrong?” she cried out as she continued falling, the sounds of the Helping Hands laughter crowing, growing distant.
Violently, she finally hit the ground. Her knees and legs took the brunt of the fall, aching painfully as she let out a cry. The floor was of dirt and grime, and she coughed as a plume of dust surrounded her.
Lifting herself up onto her knees, she looked around. Darkness was all about her but, suddenly, a light shined high above her as a lid over the hole where she came from with a secure snap.
Sealing her wherever she was, deep below the Labyrinth.
Y/N couldn’t help but sag as adrenaline left her in a huff.
-
His crystal orb – larger than that of the one he showed Y/N in her bedroom – showed not the Goblin King’s dreams, but his reality. His entire kingdom’s reality. And it showed her. Sitting in the dark of an oubliette after falling down, down, down. His eyes looked closer at her face. What a beautiful face – frustration written clear on her features as she rubbed her knees that were certainly bruised after such a fall.
Hyunjin frowned.
“She shouldn’t have been this far along.” He muttered out, glaring at his Labyrinth-Runner.
He had to admit she was clever – far more clever than he first thought. After all, he thought she’d give up –a life devoted to him was not horrible (so he thought). But the scrambling of goblin-feet about the castle, servants of goblin-blood and changelings from failed runs revealed the truth. The High Fae of the Underground, the royal line, were not of softness. They took and took and took. And he wanted her.
Licking the corner of his lip, he stood from his throne, kicking one leg off the arm-rest to stand.
“Someone must be reminded of their place.” The King muttered, grabbing his staff with ease. “An old friend.”
There was a giggle about as the goblins who were lazing about – the favorites – chuckled at their king’s words.
They knew exactly who he was speaking of.
#skz x reader#stray kids x reader#hwang hyunjin x reader#hyunjin x reader#skz imagines#hyunjin imagines#skz fantasy au#written by haley
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a tiny little ficlet based on this lovely comment from @queer4cryptids on this post! (i accidentally made it angsty, i’m so sorry!! but there’s comfort and gay yearning in there, i swear!)
when the night falls low and settles against the side of the Earth; when the the dark begins to carry a certain weight, he shifts his stance. he lets himself breathe air he doesn't really need into lungs that exist simply by virtue of his inclination to breath.
it's the same pattern Crowley's watched unfold a hundred million times times over—the stretching of a thread until it frays, three women, a set of blades; a wicked inevitability carried in the lines of time-weathered hands.
and still it never changes, never lessens the welling of grief that builds and breaks in his chest, that stagnates and stratifies like layers of sand upon gravel upon so many eons since he first fell from the sky and lost the right to mourn a woman hungry only for bread and a little kindness.
he leans back against a headstone, swallowing down a familiar hollowness. the sparrows have all taken root in the knots of tree trunks. the moon blinks back at him, clouds swaying like an eyelid closing to sleep.
he turns his face away from the light, sucks in breath for which he still has no need. the rough-hewn granite is going to scuff his coat; he knows this with the certainty of having lived in a world full of serrated edges for so many years.
and yet he doesn't care.
Crowley can't find it in him to give a damn because finally, finally he's there. he's there and he's real and tangible and it's been eleven months, two weeks, and four days since he's last felt the warmth of angelic skin so close to his own.
not that he's been keeping count, of course.
and Aziraphale's got that faraway look again. the one pressed into the lines of his face in the aftermath of a flood that tilted against the sky; the same one Crowley saw in the stark daylight of a death warrant unfurled and stamped with the name of the holy Mother herself. it's the same, hollow, teeth-gritted look Crowley himself wore as he stood on a hillside reeking of freshly-cut wood, bearing witness to yet another child of the Almighty thrown to the wolves.
Aziraphale turns, then, and blue eyes meet black lenses meet amber-gold.
"Crowley—" Aziraphale manages, choking it out in a half-whisper, like it hurts—like it scrapes his throat with bits of barbed wire. and, just like that, something in him is breaking and the oak trees are all whispering dangerous things and still, still he can't find a version of this story in which he doesn't lean closer, doesn't press himself forward into air that smells of earl grey tea and old books and something celestial and hallowed and holy underneath it all.
and as though he's drowning—as though the moon doesn't watch them with a flickering gaze and the trees can't hear the brush of skin meeting skin—Aziraphale presses his fingertips to the side of Crowley's wrist.
he moves no further. the air holds still, time seeming to freeze around them. it's intentional, he realizes; it's fire and it's heat and it's utterly fucking terrifying. even now, so far above ground, Crowley can nearly feel the weight of hellish eyes on his back. a shudder runs the length of his body.
and yet. in the atomic space of that hungry, desperate, throat-baring yet, he turns his hand, trembling, to the side. he finds the angel's touch like a bird bearing North—like a compass forever calibrated to a single, fixed point.
"I know—" he rasps. “Angel, I know.” he twines his fingers with Aziraphale's, and it's positively electric. every cell in his tragically, wonderfully human body has turned pure gold, conducted and galvanized and sparking.
a sharp, stilted inhale; a quiet anticipation carved out in the space between their pressed hands (and palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss...).
the graveyard is still. the grief is there, still. the grief might always be there. but the sharp edges dull, the welling in his chest grows steady and slow and gentle.
and the world becomes a little less difficult to bear with the two of them holding it up.
#WOAH THIS GOT OUT OF HAND (pun not intended but hehe). this was supposed to be little but then i kept thinking of stuff to add#thank u for the prompt!!! it was rly fun to write hehe!!#i have a couple papers due rly soon so i probably won't get around to tackling the other prompt for a few days. but it's coming!! dw lol!#might throw this one up on ao3 idk lol. i'd have to properly edit it tho instead of just word barfing onto the page afjldjasjsalkd#also ik this was supposed to be cute and fluffy but i apparently have this ability to take anything meant to be adorable and make it angsty#good fucking night heheheh i'm going to SLEEP#good omens#crowley#ineffable husbands#good omens 2#aziracrow#aziraphale#go2#ineffable lovers#ineffable wives#good omens season 2#gomens#gomens 2#aziraphale x crowley#good omens ficlet#good omens fic#gomens fic#good omens fanfiction#good omens poetry#my words#wren writes crow#good omens 2 ficlet#david tennant#michael sheen#crowley x aziraphale
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Half-Savage and Hardy | ao3. @nolofinweanweek. TW: poison, hunting, past violence.
Aredhel comes back in winter, when all of Aman is covered in ice and shrouded in sleet.
Her nakedness is a joy; the pain of aching muscles with running blood beneath a delight. In the shelter of Mandos' gates, she sets down her feet with intent, again and again, until she learns anew the trick of walked bare feet and unnoticed.
Only then does she go on. Into forests of slender, dark trees, through archways of brambles and bracken. She licks the blood out of her scratched arms; hungry, brimming over with new life, she forces herself to quiet her breathing and return her body to deathly stillness.
And then - the scurrying hare, close enough she could graze her fingertips, sink them through its warm pelt.
It passes her by unharmed, ears prickling with the faint awareness of the chased. The hunt is in Aredhel, thundering in her pulse, but it is not the hunt for meat that calls to her.
She follows the hare among the undergrowth, winds through the grey rain, bespelled her presence to a false nothing. Through fits and starts, panting, hummed melodies faltering and picked up again; until at last the animal forgets its fear, and stops fleeing, and goes back to seeking its prize.
Nothing poisonous to Yavanna's creatures grow on Eldamar, but the Eruhíni are not her own, and she had not tarried in bringing forth her works. Some of them caused queer fevers once consumed; and more than fevers.
As a youth Aredhel had chewed all the treacherous berries she could find, testing the mettle of body and spirit in intricate rituals, laughing when she found herself alive, always alive at the end of it - naked in the snow, at times, and aching, but without harm.
Now, both more ancient and young than she had ever been, she settles for waiting for the hare to chew the berries and be on its way, before picking a palm-full of her own.
Round as berries and red as blood they were, tender on the tongue. Familiar. She had not known such a taste for centuries before her death; had not been able to find anything like them, though she had searched in deep places and dangerous ones, thrilled always by the search - seeking knowledge of unknown things, studying and naming anew old places.
All old places had names already, in Beleriand. Her studies on the dark treasures nestled in hollow groves and damp caves had been cut short before their time, and a dire price she had paid for her mistakes.
And it might have a direr one. Her youngling, her Lómion, born of her belly and fed at her breast, would have choked on the fruits of bushes she had not learned well enough, and had not known to train him to eat without danger. That, more than anything else, she had grieved and resented as a wraith in Námo's Halls.
But resentment would be a stain on this clean world, and Aredhel had returned to life to enjoy the sweet chill of the air without fear, resolutely without fear.
This time, she would not be caught out unaware in any dark forest, and bear no child - next time, if a hunter came to bring her own down like a hart with a spear through the chest, no poison at all would be able to boil her blood from within.
What kin she had on another life had waited long for her return, and could stand to wait longer still. The body is renewed, but not mastered yet. She has centuries to do that, and a mind to travel farther yet than ever she had gone into the reaches of Eldamar.
A familiar dizziness overtakes her senses. Her stomach turns over on itself, hurting with hunger. What a sharp and terrible thing it is to be alive and weak!
It would take centuries to build up her old resistance, to be wild and indifferent to poison as any creature of the wild. Aredhel leans her face on the side of tall oak, laughing.
She gathers a greater share of gleaming berries for the journey, and goes; and not even the wise hares would be able to spot her feet on the forest floor.
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I’ve been thinking about Thunder
(dotc rewrite) The fire-red tom is the last surviving kit. His mother is still alive, but frail- the moorland cats say she is dying of a broken heart, an old superstition regarding queens and their lost kits- Wind and Hawk Swoop both agree to help her settle into the moorland camp, but with no medicine cat, she quickly deteriorates. Her son is named Thundering Storm in honour of her and a reminder of the storm of rubble that nearly killed them both. Tragically, Storm passes, but Thundering Storm is loved and treasured by Hawk Swoop and his adoptive siblings. Grey Wing is a good father- maybe too critical when he sees Clear Sky’s temper flashing in his son’s outburts, but feels Clear Sky should at least come visit his only kit. After the fire, when heat lightning crashes across the sky, a paranoid Clear Sky is adamant; Thundering Storm belongs to him. He is given to the forest and renamed Thundering Sky, now he has proven himself worthy of Clear Sky’s attention. Thundering Sky is one of them, a forest cat, he belongs with his kin. But Thundering Sky has know nothing but love: pure from Storm, gentle from Hawk Swoop and Turtle Tail, tough from Grey Wing, the love/hate banter of young siblings rushing to grow up together, and cannot fit into Clear Sky’s world. He returns to the moor with Frost. His father goes insane. Clear Sky wants boundaries, Clear Sky wants laws and order in a chaotic world, One Eye will help him achieve that. The winters in the mountains have made him paranoid. Thundering Sky is trapped between Grey Wing seeking peace with the others and Jagged Peak seeking revenge, and Clear Sky seeking order, he is caught between the forest and the moor, and his non-mountain blood.
Even after all of it, Clear Sky’s jabs and comments, the murdering of innocent cats, working with One Eye to strengthen the group, the young tom just wants his father’s approval, truly. He wants his father’s laws to work, for the borders to bring peace, but they cannot. Not with Clear Sky determined to continue leading his group alone, and One Eye looking to take it.
The mountain cats have brought nothing but trouble and bloodshed, and they fight to the death in the hollow with five trees until a lightning strike destroys one ancient oak and brings the dead back to life- over what? Over the rights to hunt? Over the land? Over him? Thundering Sky returns to the forest, seeing his father quiver before the spirits of their dead. They both just need someone to prop them up. He can temper Clear Sky’s rage, Clear Sky can make him into a cat he will be proud of.
He will not learn, even after One Eye is gone, Clear Sky is certain his way is right- after all, he and One Eye united the forest, the moor, and the strays. Unite or die, says the spirits, they must all come into Clear Sky’s control. You are a forest cat- you belong with me. He speaks of wanting a group, a set of rules and regulations to strictly keep the peace and honour, but he has no honour. None of the mountain cats do. They can all take their groups to the other side of the world. When the time comes, you will make it right, and Thundering Sky knows what he must do. He storms from Clear Sky’s camp in the dead of winter, he is nothing like his father, or his kin, he will make his own group. A group where the ill are tended too, the young trained, the evil punished. He sheds his name and becomes Thunder, not a forest cat, not a mountain cat, his own cat. He is not one of them. A new age is beginning, he vows, and sets to make his camp.
Clear Sky is furious, humiliated. His mother disowns him when she travels from the mountains, she curses Clear Sky so that he will never succeed in his bloodthirsty plans. He unites with Slash, regathers what is left of One Eye’s rogues and rogues from beyond- he has so much power he can gather cats from places beyond the forest, beyond the mountains. He makes one last push to unite the five groups, he bleeds into the ground by the river. Thunder gets word- Grey Wing is dying too, pushed to the edge by his brother’s actions. His last kin is gone. The new age is truly beginning. ThunderClan, RiverClan, WindClan, ShadowClan, and SkyClan- led by Sparrow Fur, will rule the forest. Five Clans around Four Trees. Thunder’s code, the warrior code, will grow and spread, and the Clans will grow. Leaders will get their nine lives, their medicine cats will learn to harness the power of the living and dead. All is well with the world. In the future, they will wonder about the fifth tree, decayed by time, and if Quiet Rain’s curse has anything to do with the monsters rolling across the SkyClan border.
#the heatwave has broken. etc etc#Thunder rejecting his tribe/ancient name and setting up a precedent for ThunderCLan to be the goody two shoes#as they created the warrior code in response to the atrocitie of the mountain cats.#skyclans exile as divine punishment for clear skys actions but not really.#warrior cats#btw this is both anti clear sky and grey wing like none of them are good lads.#neither is thunder tbh he gets his fathers stubbornness and insists his way is right too. i love how fucking wrong the dotc characters can#be sometimes so we embrace it.#btw blazing star kinda doesnt exist here#and thundering sky/storm is called thundering in honour of fluttering bird. it would have been thunder sky/storm otherwise#i just think clear sky shud have been more Bad becoz its fun and Thunder being the one to create the warrior code in response to his fathers#bad behaviour is like. a commentary on how thunderclan fucking love correcting behaviour#i posted a comic about this on insta but ill post it here soon
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31 - Not out of the woods Yet
Part 32
Family is More than Blood
@icefrye19 @secretdreamlandmentality
Standing in the middle of the stairwell doorway I sukcked im a breath feeling anger welling throughout my entire body. Alyssa still had the white oak stake shoved inside my husband’s chest. Raising my right hand I vamped forward causing her to grab her head in agonizing pain. “Ah sha lana…ah sha lana!”
“You can’t kill me, Raelyn!” She winced, holding her head and lowering herself down onto her knees.
Throwing her against the wall with my other hand she grunted at the impact. Rushing over to Nik's side he gasped harshly. I could see his skin turning Grey and the veins begin covering his whole body. Dropping myself down onto my knees I wrapped my fingers around the stake yanking it out so harshly that I fell backwards onto the wooden floor. “Urgh!....please work.” I mumbled to myself seeing his body remaining the same for a few good seconds.
His blue eyes shot open and he sat upright holding a hand over the wound that began healing. “Raelyn!”
“Oh…thank god.” Placing my hand over my heart I sighed in relief.
Hope came rushing over to my side. “Mom, are you back?”
“Yeah sweetie. I'm back - look out!” I cried pointing towards Alyssa or better yet the Hollow who had managed to remove herself from the wall spell.
The witch stands in front of us where I turned my hands into fists at my sides. Hope got in a fighting position beside me. “What are we going to do to her?”
“It doesn’t matter what you try on me, heretic. Only your daughter's can kill me in case you've forgotten.” The Hollow walked around with her hands clasped together behind her back proudly.
Alina growled under her breath moving forward and trying to kick Alyssa but she sensed the attack. She grabbed her ankle and swung her around in circles for a good minute before releasing her grip and threw her into the nearest bookshelf. “Alina!”
“I’m okay…” She gasped for breath, lifting her head up slightly when I called her name.
Missy scrambled to her feet snapping her wrists and throwing her hands out in front of her. “Ventus.” Alyssa cried out getting thrown backwards by the amount of magic she blasted her with.
“What are we supposed to do, heretic queen?” Klaus came over to my side finally getting to his feet ready to fight.
Quickly scanning the room I knew that we defeated the Hollow before with my kids blood and the knife that he killed her centuries ago. At the moment that knife was back in New Orleans with Freya and Vincent so we had to stall until we could get it from them. “We can’t kill her yet. We don't have what we need…or maybe we do.” I admit to him eyeing the white oak stake on the ground.
“What are you thinking?” He asked me where my gaze had landed.
Calling my eldest daughter she came over to us quickly. “Hope, cut your palm and drop your blood on the stake. Alina, Missy, you do the same.” Snatching the stake from the wooden ground handing it over to my first born child.
She nods using the end of the stake to cut her palm, drawing blood. She drops her blood, handing it over to Missy who follows her sister's action biting into her wrist making it bleed. “Alina, it's your turn.” Missy handed it to her and she cut her palm, gripping the stake in her hands before she launched it towards the hollow.
Alyssa raised her hand, stopping it with her hand throwing Klaus and our daughters backwards. She looked in my direction where I mumbled quietly under my breath turning invisible. “Invisique.” My whole body wasn't visible to her, giving me the opportunity to grab the stake that she had frozen in front of her chest.
“I’ve had just about enough of you, Hollow!” My husband grunted getting to his feet. He vamped towards her smacking into a barrier spell holding his head. “What the hell have you done?”
The Hollow glanced around confused. “That wasn’t me, hybrid.”
“Then who was it!” He questioned her, seeing a hand turning red against the barrier he had just smacked into.
Keeping my eyes shut briefly I became visible to their eyes once more. My freehand was pressing against the barrier with me muttering a spell. “Guess again, bitch!….Imperium monstrum.”
“Rae. We aren’t going through this again!” Klaus hit his fists on the barrier between him and the us now.
I shake my head pressing the stake into her back where I could smell the fresh blood dripping onto it. Now that it had my daughter's blood on it could actually kill her once and for all. “I’m sorry, Nik. But she has to die.”
“You said we shouldn’t kill if there’s another way.” Missy sent me some sad eyes.
Alina got to her side flashing her werewolf eyes while Hope had nothing else to add onto their statements. “Forget that. She took over Alyssa’s body and almost ruined our family. She took away mom’s memories. She tried to kill us too many times. I don’t see a problem with it!”
“Raelyn, don’t do this.” Klaus begged me with those blue eyes.
Shifting the tip of the stake up to her heart the hollow winced when I slowly pushed it inside her back. “This has to be done, Nik….urgh! Magia tollux de terras… Magia tollux de terras…Magia tollux de terras!” I began chanting, shoving the stake through her heart hearing her cry. At the same time my freehand gripping her shoulder blade turned red and siphoning the magic from her into my bloodstream.
I sucked in a shaky breath focusing my gaze to my husband seeing the same terrified gaze he had when I performed a spell like this one. But I didn’t regret what I was doing. This was to protect my family. To protect the school and the kids that attended it. And that image would remain burned in his memory for all eternity.
���Klaus, I need you to listen to me. I wish we had more time together. Because you are honestly everything I never knew I could have. I…I don’t know what I feel for you but I deeply care about you. So go live your life for me…Magia tollux de terras.” I started crying imagining that I never got to truly be with him. But he needed to live more than I did so that Caroline and the others could.
Klaus vamped forward not caring that the flames grew banging on the magical barrier crying some strong tears for me. “Raelyn! No, no, Rae. Don’t you dare do anything. Stop it, Rae….I deeply care for you too…”
“Magia tollux de terras……Magia tollux de terras.” I grunted forcing myself to my feet stumbling around with blood falling down onto my clothes as I walked towards Finn and Esther.
Grabbing Finn by his shoulder I limped in between the pair gripping Esther by the forearm where she winced sharply staring down at my red hand on both her and her son. “What the hell are you doing, girl!”
“Magia tollux de terras!” I declared gasping sharply feeling her energy running through her, but it was a lot more than I was ever used to. My eyes began rolling to the back of my head and I coughed out some blood from my mouth and nose. Black veins were appearing on my hands drawing her magical source from her
Klaus banged the barrier again hearing my heart almost giving out. “Raelyn, stop it. You have to let go before it kills you - Raelyn!”
Once they were gone I couldn’t stand on my own where I collapsed onto the dirt and salt beneath me. My blonde hair was dirty and stained with blood from where my neck was still bleeding from Finn’s bite. Someone vamped forward lifting my head where I struggled to meet the blue gaze of the hybrid. “Rae, Rae, hey, hey. Look at me please. I need you to keep your eyes open for me.”
“Nik…” I wrapped my fingers around one of his wrists, not able to keep my eyes open any longer.
My body started swaying like it had back then. The Hollow moaned in pain and I felt her body getting heavier against mine. She stumbled backwards and I could hear her heartbeat slowing down. “You can’t kill me, Heretic…”
“Really cause it looks like I’m winning the war right now.” I whispered in her ear, scraping my fangs against her neck, feeling her shiver against the fresh tips. Twisting the stake that was inside her chest she grunts harshly once more. My other hand on her shoulder gripped tighter for balance and I could see the black veins reappearing back across my body yet I didn’t ever let go. “Don’t mess with the Mikaelson’s!”
The hollow screamed out collapsing onto the wooden floor when I yanked the stake out from her chest, staining my clothes in blood. “Argh!….un.”
“Rae!” Klaus vamped forward managing to break through the spell that was now broken. He gently grabbed a hold of my forearms seeing that my body was swaying side to side. “You made the veins come back, love.”
“Nik, I’ll be fine….” I mumbled under my breath letting the bloody stake clatter to the wooden floor. My eyes began getting heavy and I could barely keep them open where my body fell forward to his chest.
He quickly caught my body and scooped me up in a bridal style. “Woah…easy now. You don’t see fine, Raelyn.” Laying my head against his embrace I gripped his shirt in my fingers.
“Dad, is she going to be okay?” Missy asked him.
Hope eyed Alyssa’s body on the ground. “I’ll handle her before anyone else sees this.”
“I still say she deserved it.” Alina smirked, not upset that I had staked her.
Klaus put his attention on our daughters hearing crying coming from the twins bedroom. He vamped, still carrying my body closely to his chest. He lays me down on the bed where I struggled to keep my eyes open seeing baby Charming crawling around on the floor and the curtains were blowing around with the light’s flickering around in the wind he was creating. “Klaus, what’s going on with our boy?”
“I don’t know. I’m more worried about you, heretic queen.” My husband came over to me touching the side of my face seeing that the black veins hadn’t gone away. “How are you feeling?”
Coughing into my sleeve I saw Rapunzel trying to get to her feet and climb on the edge of the bed. She came over to me touching my arm and I winced seeing her hand turn red meaning she was a siphoner until her twin brother. “Ah Rapunzel!”
“Little niece, we have a problem.” I gasped somewhat recognizing the voice that called me that old nickname. Blinking through some tears my vision began blurring where I saw a figure standing by my husband that appeared to be my dead uncle Joshua.
Croaking out I didn’t understand what the Hollow’s magic was doing to me. “Uncle Joshua, no. You’re…you’re dead.”
“Raelyn, there’s no one there.” Klaus glanced over his shoulder seeing nobody was there. “I’m calling Freya right now.”
Shaking my head the veins growing up my arm started burning through my blood making me wince sharply. My dead uncle came and sat down on the bed and put Rapunzel down in his lap. “How am I seeing you right now?”
“Because you're on the verge of death after taking that magic again. If you don’t get rid of it soon you will die. You can’t hold onto that much power all at once.” Uncle Joshua warned me, eyeing baby Charming. “That’s not the only warning I have for you.”
Charming coughed and the glass in the window cracked. Rapunzel watched her brother and clasped her hands together causing one of the pillows beside my head to burst into feathers. “What else could be worse than the fact that I’m dying from black magic yet again?”
“I don’t know how but these little guys aren’t spared from the family curse like we originally thought. After Kai escaped his prison world I could feel something changing in heaven and I can’t explain it.” My uncle explained in a shaky breath.
Covering my face with my hands I didn’t want to believe him. It had to be the dark magic inside me trying to play tricks on my mind. I knew that I had spared anyone in my bloodline. I just couldn’t save Lizzie and Josie from the Merge. “You’re a trick by the Hollow. Charming and Rapunzel don’t have to merge. I took care of it years ago. I know I did.”
“I’m sorry to say that when Kai escaped something was reset. Either by his hand or somebody else I don’t know.” Uncle Joshua sucked in a worried breath meeting my gaze. “Alina and Missy are spared. But he spelled these two with something dark.”
I gulped still in strong denial of what he was telling me. “Uncle Joshua, you’re lying.”
He slumped his shoulders and disappeared the second that Klaus came back into the room informing me that Freya was on her way from Orleans. “I wish I could say I was, little niece. But Rapunzel and Charming will have to merge at some point.” Shutting my eyes I laid my head back feeling my whole body shaking and my heart was getting tighter in my chest even though I was a vampire. The Mikaelson’s aren’t out of the wood’s just yet.
Comments really appreciated ❤️
#klaus mikaelson x reader#klaus mikaelson x oc#klaus mikaelson x heretic reader#klaus mikaelson x witch reader#oc : raelyn lane#indiana evans#hope mikaelson#oc : missy mikaelson#britt robertson#oc : alina mikaelson#madelyn cline#legacies#legacies fanfiction#klaus mikaelson fanfiction#klaus mikaelson fic#tvd fanfiction#wattpad fanfiction#ask box is open for feedback#tvd fandom#klaus mikaelson x reader fanfiction#tvd#tvd x reader#comments really appreciated#joshua parker#kai parker#tvd universe#tvd fic#tvdu#family is more than blood
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"I don't think I'm ready for this, Eagleburn."
"You have to be. You must."
In the hush of the hollow leading out to the clan, Oatbright quivered under the evening leaf-bare sun. No warmth pierced his thick gray-striped pelt, and if anything, he felt especially chilled by the breeze.
Was it an omen from StarClan, that this was not the destiny he deserved?
With unseeing eyes, but keenly listening ears, Eagleburn betrayed no expression of whether or not he recognized his old friend's anxiety.
While in other circumstances, the sturdy, broad-shouldered tom cat would have brought a sense of stability to Oatbright, here and now, he found no sense of comfort.
Just a rising dread, like water filling his lungs.
"I know it's hard," Eagleburn tried again, gentler this time, "But you know the tradition. Darkstar is gone. You need to go to the Sky Splinter."
Oatbright's eyes shut tight.
Yes, this was true.
In the growing blue-grey dusk, they had found her.
Mangled and broken, the cruel fox that had stolen their leader from them hadn't even the grace to honor her life by taking her as a meal.
But, while none would speak it, it seemed an unfortunate and fitting end for a she-cat who had brought such senseless violence to her clan in her final moons.
An old scar on his cheek ached, long since healed, but the trauma from it still haunting him.
... Would he become like that? Like her?
Driven mad by slow-creeping grief until he hadn't realized his heart had frozen to his clanmates, making them enemies?
"Oatbright."
Eagleburn pushed his nose against Oatbright's shoulder, stirring him from his increasingly panicked thoughts.
"I-I'm sorry."
Within the entry hollow, guarded by thick brambles and rugged, curved vines, he could hear the increasingly worried mews of the clan cats within. They knew the tradition: their new leader needed to achieve StarClan's blessing as soon as possible.
They would be in disarray until then without the guiding paw of such a critical cat.
"... Okay."
Breathing in a long, steadying breath, it did little to ease Oatbright's nerves, but it was good to pretend he had found his composure in front of Eagleburn.
"I'm... I'm ready."
Watching Eagleburn's scarred face, waiting for a sign of doubt to flash through cloudy, blind eyes, no such signal came as the black tom bowed his head in acknowledgement, and led the way.
On trembling paws, after a beat of hesitation, Oatbright followed, deliberately measuring every step to not give off the aura of a frightened, nervous kit.
The gathered cats turned to them, and he felt their eyes piercing his pelt like thorns. Suntuft and Brightstorm huddled together, and he felt a pitying stab of pain in his heart.
The sisters were pillars of their clan and being closed to both the leader and the former deputy, who had also been their mother, he imagined this was hitting them the hardest.
Darkstar left no kits, and those two cats were likely the closest thing she had to kin.
"DawnClan, gather below the branches of the Great Oak!"
Summoning strength to his yowl, Oatbright bounded forth. It felt wrong to claim Darkstar's spot as he dug his claws into the well-marked bark of the oak tree she had proclaimed their gathering point.
Foggily, he could remember as a tiny kit watching in wonder as she rose into its branches, her sandy fur illuminated to a golden shine by the sun at her back.
Now, under a rising moon, Oatbright stood in her place, tail flagged high, and chest puffed out.
Even if he felt not a drop of courage in his blood, he had to fake it.
Surely, he thought to himself as he looked down upon his clan, Darkstar... She chose me for a reason. She saw something in me.
Eagleburn settled among the cats who slowly gathered. Even kits tumbled out of the nursery after their queen mothers, for this was a ritual all of DawnClan was to acknowledge, for it impacted them all.
Oatbright took another calming breath.
"As you all know, Darkstar has lost her final life," he meowed, and a ripple of sorrow pushed like a dark tide through the crowd. He did not acknowledge it, needing to maintain the little strength he had. "It is with great heartbreak that I announce this under StarClan's watch. Darkstar had brought us here to this new home, and never will her sacrifice, along with that of the other cats who came here, be forgotten."
Suntuft and Brightstorm shared a look, which Oatbright recognized.
Boulderfrost, their mother, had been by Darkstar's side the whole time of their journey as DawnClan's deputy. Her passing had signaled the beginning of the end of an era:
The loss of those who still remembered HillClan.
Oatbright shivered, chilled in his dawning realization that he was all that was left.
He had been nothing more than a scrap of fur, a kit barely able to find his own paws.
How could he carry on these memories when he himself could not remember them all?
"I will go to the Sky Splinter tonight to gain my nine lives," he continued, paws prickling as he thought of the impending journey, "Bismuthfang, Sapbeak, and Beaverpelt."
The mentioned cats straightened up in their spots, looking to their to-be crowned leader with expectant eyes.
"You will accompany me and stand watch as I share tongues with StarClan tonight."
Pausing, Oatbright felt the waiting eyes of his clan all the keener upon his pelt.
All the more distinctly did he feel the pressure of what Darkstar's death meant, and what she had done to him by appointing him as her deputy.
"... Eagleburn."
The blind tom lifted his head to acknowledge his leader, unseeing eyes fixed upon the point of his voice.
"Under the gaze of StarClan and Darkstar, you will be DawnClan's new deputy."
A new wave of voices coursed through the camp, but it was not of grief.
Eagleburn was a revered and praised warrior.
Even after losing his sight to a wayward hare, he had shown himself capable and strong, no different from a seeing warrior.
Not only was he Oatbright's closest compatriot, but he was esteemed among their peers.
He had been scarred by a snake and survived its poison after defending kits from its attack. He was the son of Slatespots and adoptive son of Creekberry, other pillars of their clan.
While he chose Eagleburn for wholly selfish reasons, Oatbright knew it would be easily masked as simply the wisest choice given Eagleburn's golden reputation and wisdom as a warrior.
Soft mews of congratulations pierced the heavy aura of grief and mixed feelings of the camp, as Oatbright was sure many of the cats felt similarly.
Darkstar was beloved, but she was not the same cat as she had once been in her dying days. Her growing madness impacted them all, and while they would grieve her, they would also look to the future.
"I know that Darkstar will approve, as will StarClan," Oatbright said, reciting from memory what he recalled from his own deputy announcement, "You have served this clan already for countless moons, and now more than ever is your wisdom and courage needed."
Eagleburn, expression unreadable, paused, and then bowed his head in acceptance.
It seemed he had known this was coming, and Oatbright felt a mild tug of guilt twist at his belly for not consulting his friend first on if he wanted this great responsibility on his shoulders.
But... He could not do this without him.
He needed him.
"Please see to the protection of the camp and myself and my patrol are out," Oatbright requested, and once Eagleburn nodded, Oatbright gave a flick of his tail-tip, signaling the gathering's end.
Help me, StarClan, Oatbright thought to the stars as he slowly eased his way down from the Great Oak to meet the warriors he summoned.
Please prove that I am fit to lead this clan.
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The Butterfly Too, Will Follow
Twin island of black and red, swimming in seas of milky white. Santi had never really liked the eyes they were born with. Neither have they ever liked the rest of their body. Sickly pale and frail – they have always stood out, being so unlike the rest of their peers. Santi saw the unspoken words, and the looks they were given tasted like ash on their tongue. But that was all fine. It really was. Because someone understood.
“You in there, Santi?”
“Y-Yeah. Sorry. Be right there.”
-
Two dark, hollow pits of a shadowy grey, swimming in an ocean of cloth. Santi had always found the featureless mask covering the entirety of their face, head, and neck to be comforting. Much like they did with the 3-piece suit covering the rest of their body. Dark grey and sleek – it didn’t make them stand out, but was fashionable regardless. Santi could always divert the curious gazes, and the whispered words dispersed like steam if they wished it. It was all fine. It really was. But no one-
“Ah, there you are, Santi”
“So I am.”
-
Santi swallowed thickly, doing their best not to let the stress get to them – and failing. They followed Gabriele closely, holding their friend’s hand as the two of them approached the mansion’s doors. They had never even seen such a... beautifully grand building. They felt out of place in front of such opulence – feeling almost measly compared to it. Still, Gabriele went on and grabbed the large metal knocker on the dark oak door.
“I-I’m not... I’m not sure about this, Gabriele...” Santi said, a hesitant tremble shaking at their words.
“Oh, Santi, don’t be like that now! My parents and I went through so much trouble to prepare all this for you! Surely, you wouldn’t want our effort to go to waste?” Gabriele replied, pouting, though her eyes were twisted in a smile.
“I... suppose not.”
“Good answer,” she cooed sweetly, with what Santi thought might be a condescending smirk twisting her features for just a second before melting into a smile instead. Gabriele rapped at the door with the heavy-looking knocker, the vibrations of metal against wood rattling Santi to their core.
-
Santi sighed deeply, hoping to release their stress along with their breath – and failing. They followed Gabriele cautiously, keeping in mind where her hands were as the two of them approached the limousine’s doors. They had never seen a car so grossly grand. They felt sick, standing in front of such disgusting opulence – everything around it feeling measly and dirty in comparison. Still, Gabriele approached it with almost-glee, looking back at Santi facelessly.
“You coming?” she trilled, her voice muffled a surprisingly small amount. Santi didn’t reply, not increasing the slow pace of their stride towards the vehicle.
Gabriele continued, “Oh, Santi, don’t be like that, now! I went through so much trouble to arrange this all for us. We both know how busy it can get for the other, no?”
“I’m sure that you do,” Santi said with all the calmness they could muster, finally having come up to the car. Gabriele flexed her jaw and scoffed quietly enough that the usual person would not be able to hear. But Santi did. Regardless, Gabriele grasped the door handle on the side of the limousine and knocked on the window – likely signalling for something – the dull sound of knuckles against glass making Santi clench their gloved fists.
-
“Do you like it?” asked Gabriele, wildly gesturing across the entire dining hall with her arm.
“It’s... pretty,” Santi said cautiously, eyeing Gabriele’s reaction. At Gabriele’s satisfactory hum, Santi let themself actually inspect the room. Orange lights danced across an assortment of dark woods and black stone, pouring from the lit fireplace in the far wall. The ceiling was incredibly high, with an assortment of metallic chandeliers hanging from it. Impressive though it all was, Santi’s attention was drawn to the long, tall table – it was like from a fairy tale Santi’s mother would read to them. It was beautiful – fit for a king or queen. Fit for royalty.
“So,” Gabriele exclaimed, clapping her hands together in delight, “you wanted me to show you... Magic. To teach you.”
“Y-yes.”
“You want to be like me?”
“Yes. Yes... please.”
“Then you will have to promise to do as I say, okay?”
“...Okay. I promise.”
-
“Do you like it?” asked Gabriele, wildly gesturing with her hand at the car’s interior, as she sat comfortably opposite to Santi.
“That’s irrelevant.”
“So dismissive,” Gabriele said with a huff, removing the brimmed hat previously casting shade over the blank layer of skin stretched over her actual face. Then, she took her sunglasses off, though her eyes were still clad in shadow – visible only due to the holes torn into that second layer of skin. Grotesque though it all was, Santi’s attention was still drawn to Gabriele’s hungry, arrogant gaze – it was like from a fairy tale Santi’s mother would read to them. It was sickeningly cocky – fit for a king or queen. Fit for royalty.
“I assume you’re not going to be removing that ridiculous thing?” Gabriele asked, though she didn’t wait for an answer before scoffing and continuing, “So, you really want to know about... them?”
“Yes.”
“Then I expect you to cooperate.”
“Sure.”
“Really cooperate.”
“Sure.”
-
Santi’s eyes were wide with wonder. Drops of liquid perspiration trickled down Gabriele’s face, and her eyes were squeezed almost completely shut. However, that was not where Santi’s attention was drawn. Instead, their eyes were glued to the small – no taller than half a metre – figure, standing on the table. It was dressed up in fancy clothing, almost resembling a doll. Its lack of a face, however, quickly shattered that illusion. Regardless, the blank, faceless figure moved around gracefully, its movements fluid, yet not natural.
“It’s... it’s amazing! Can I do this too, Gabs?” Santi praised and asked in an almost-shout, still not looking away from the figure.
Gabriele smiled widely, before saying, “It’s called a Puppet. And of course, you can, Santi. You just have to do exactly as I say! Especially for this next part.”
-
Santi’s eyes were narrowed with focus. Drops of liquid red dripped down Gabriele’s real face, and her eyes were half-lidded, staring at Santi in a challenging manner. However, that was not where Santi’s attention really was. Instead, they were focusing on channelling Magic into their hands – as they took their glove’s hem and stretched the glove further onto their hand – performing their Gesture. Feelings of doubt and uncertainty – Santi’s Magic – flooded the interior of the limousine, the intensity making Gabriele flinch – and drop the knife she had used to ‘unmask’ herself.
“How in the...?” Gabriele muttered with her – now fully revealed – eyes wide, before speaking more loudly, “Right, Santi is all grown up now... This is how you want to play this, is it?”
“With effort, to answer your previous question. And no. This is how I have to play it, Gabs,” retorted Santi, poison seeping into their usually neutral demeanour.
“What was it that we said about cooperating?” Gabriele hissed in response, her face – paler than the rest of her deep brown skin and slick with blood – twisted in a scowl.
“I was just levelling the playing field. This is cooperating – in the sense that we’re both playing the same game, on the same board, for once. Now, give me what I came for.”
-
“Don’t look at me like that, Santi! You wanted this, remember?”
Santi stared at the slab of meat wordlessly. The flesh hadn’t even been stripped of the skin. It was still raw and red – with blood pooling under it, staining the gleaming, white plate.
“Dig in, Santi. You wanted Magic? You wanted to be like me? Then eat it.”
“P-please... do I have to?” they pleaded meekly, their vision spinning and bile threatening to climb up their throat.
“Don’t be ridiculous Santi! You promised!” Gabriele snapped, though her enraged voice had a hint of an odd elation in it, “This is all for you! For your own good! Don’t you want to be better? Like me? Don’t you want to change – climb into a chrysalis and emerge a beautiful butterfly?”
-
“Don’t look at me like that, Santi! You wanted this, remember?”
Santi stared at the images wordlessly.
“Why so down, Santi? You wanted to know what happened to your family? Your parents? Now you know.”
“Sh-shut up,” Santi growled weakly, their vision spinning and bile threatening to climb up their throat.
“’Same game’... Don’t make me laugh. You don’t know my game,“ Gabriele said condescendingly, before chuckling and continuing, “I have to admit, you had me scared, there, for a second. I thought the old Santi was gone... but no, my pure little butterfly was just hiding. You never changed, no... I didn’t let you, after all...”
-
“I’ve always adored the saying ‘like a moth to a flame’. Imagine loving something so much that you are willing to die for it, to sacrifice everything else. But I think that such a person would also need to have nothing else – for the flame to be its only love, the only thing it needs. So that it is willing to get burnt,” Gabriele said, the skin of her jaw stretching oddly as she spoke. Hearing barely a slurred string of somethings – only somewhat resembling words – as Gabriele spoke, Santi stared at what seemed to be a short flap of skin stretching across the edges of her face, ending perfectly evenly – looking almost cut. “Don’t you think so as well, Santi?” Gabriele questioned, before suddenly – with the slightest gentleness – cupping their chin and wiping the mix of blood and saliva coating it with her thumb. Meeting Santi’s unfocused eyes, she continued, “Because if it has nothing else, can it even tell that the burning of its wings is not love? Does it even care? Still, it will fly to the flame.”
-
“I don’t think you quite understand, Santi,” said Gabriele, a strained, almost incredulous guffaw quickly dying on her lips. “Like a moth to a flame, like a lamb to a slaughter, I want the beautiful butterfly too, to follow.”
--
“And if it doesn’t?” she continued both times, two snarling voices melding to one, “I will make it.”
#santi my dear thing#my child dearest who suffers so#i should learn how to write... fluff. or something#anyway!#OC REVEAL!#SANTI!#also; I guess evil OC reveal? what do you call that#antagonist reveal?#yeah#Gabriele#she's actually genderfluid but honestly the whole thing was already pretty confusing#without me changing his pronouns every second sentence#plus with the timeskips could've come off as trans in a single... direction?#you get it#anyway! thanks for reading!!!!! :3#I'm both really proud of and really unhappy with this#writing#aspiring writer#prose#creative fiction#fiction#short story#urban fantasy#fantasy#signed; fa
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Territory Maps
NEUTRAL TERRITORY//
1 - Meeting Space / Flower Field // A spread of wildflowers, this is a regular meeting space between the Colonies. Trades often take place here, from tanned rabbit hides to cooked mice to leather bracelets.
•─────⋅☾ ☆ ☽⋅─────•
CLOUDBURST TERRITORY//
2 - Cloudburst Camp // Set just a few feet away from the edge of the cliffs, Cloudburst Colony's camp offers little natural shelter. Instead, the cats have woven dens of brambles, flowers, and tall grasses to keep themselves warm, though their thick fur does a lot of the work.
3 - Heart Copse // The reason for the name of this little patch of trees has been long since lost to time. It's a nice place to find lark eggs, a nice treat among Cirrusi.
4 - Hare Meadows // A large meadow with tall grass. Hares make their homes here, and they make good meals should you catch them.
•───────•°•❀•°•───────•
PIPESTONE TERRITORY//
5 - Pipestone Camp // Should one approach the place where Pipers make their camp, they'd not see much. Tall trees, sure, their boughs scraping the sky, but very few cats. The true camp is a labyrinth of tunnels, dug below the trees and reinforced with stone.
6 - Scorched Hollow // A bare hollow, the ground scorched and brown. Nothing grows here, and it makes a good training spot.
7 - Firefly Oak // A giant oak covered in Spanish moss. A well-loved place for fireflies, it's almost magical to see in warm summer evenings.
•─────⋅☾ ☆ ❀•°•───────•
SHARED TERRITORY//
8 - Sheer Cliffs // Tall stone cliffs leading down to a small sandy beach. They're treacherous slopes, and can be deadly if you don't know exactly what you're doing.
9 - Ocean // Favoured by Cloudstone Colony and scorned by Pipestone Colony, the ocean is a tempermental mistress. Some days it's calm and blue, and others it's angry and grey.
10 - Sandy Beach // The sand here is so fine it's almost water, and so golden it's practically worth thousands.
•─────⋅☾ ☆ ❀•°•───────•
OUTSIDE TERRITORY//
11 - Frozen Wastelands / Mountains // Mountains encircling the Colony territories. They're tall and cold, imposing a border on the world.
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A Quiet Visit
Kamora sat, her knees tucked underneath her. Uncaring about the dirt and grass stains that would no doubt stain her clothes. Her hands were twisting in her lap, fidgeting energy, nervous. The smell of flowers was faint here in the corner of the garden, a corner used for quieter things. For the garden was a place of life, her family had carved out a place for death amongst it.
In 4 rows behind her sat her ancestors, her grandparents on her father's side a rare couple of humans among the bodies of elves, half-elves and one cursed Tiefling if she remembered correctly. Their names were fleeting and she could really only remember them by family nicknames and titles.
The grave in front of her? She would never forget.
A thick lump hit the back of her throat as her eyes filled with tears, hot salty things. Full of grief and pain. Even through the blurriness her vision had become 'Zai-Gul' stood proudly craved into the grey speckled stone.
On his grave she had planted Phoenix Lillies, a rare flower that he had described his adopted mother growing by the house in Udanguard. Flowers that were said to have come about from the ashes of a newly born Phoenix. They grew in many colours but, as if by magic, the flowers of these had grown in purples and blues. His favourite colours.
Aldina, a lovely old woman, now in her late 60s, had been more than allowing in letting Kamora take a cutting when the young half-elf had come to break the news. The two of them had been sobbing messes, clinging to one another in a tight hug. Kamora frantically apologising for failing Aldina's son, failing to bring him home like she had promised while the older woman had been apologising for the pain of grief.
She still visited her would-be mother-in-law occasionally, whenever she was in the area and could stomach seeing a gentle smile that she did not think she deserved.
Other flowers by his grave included forget-me-notts and frozen roses. Bright blue and icy white roses that grew with frost covering the edges. Encouraged by Kamora's own hand and magic.
All of the flora curling protectively around the grave, avoiding the gravestone. When she closed her eyes and let her magic expand, she could feel them. Roots carefully avoiding the dark oak casket in the ground.
She swallowed and with a shaking hand, gently ran her fingers over the engraving. Mouthing along
'A great fighter, an even better friend. Loved and Lost. May he watch on from above, carefree and painless'
Under the engraving was a small line in Celestial, the very stone itself manipulated to have the words permanently etched there. Done by magic rather than humanoid hands, a late edition.
'Yours forever my life and love. In this life and the next' was the Common translation
Something she had done on the eve of his life day the year before. 4 short months after his passing. She had not been able to handle the day sober. She had woken up, curled up in front of his grave, her cloak placed over her. The words now in stone and her magic aching with use.
“Hello Beloved” She said, her voice catching in her throat as the tears began to fall “I miss you”
She brushed some frost that had bloomed under her fingers off the stone and cleared her throat
“Your Ma is doing well. Finally got her pumpkins large enough to carve for the Hollow celebrations. You would be proud of how she lugged one, the biggest of hers I've seen yet, up onto the table last I visited. Almost broke the table” She said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. Snuffling softly as she wiped a tear from her chin. The attempt of humour doing nothing to lift her spirits. “I went to see Rubien yesterday, he was in Rithmel of all places. Did you know in the Divine Quarter they are building temples? He'd been asked by some Priests he knew to check on the one to the DawnFather. It is quite stunning so far. You would have loved it.”
She took a shaky breath, another snuffle escaping her. Tears filling her vision once again and she quickly blinked a few times, sending them down her cheeks before they dripped onto her lap.
“I hope you give it a visit when you are able.” She said quietly, looking up at the trees above her as they rustled slightly in a sudden breeze and she laughed softly. A small smile, barely there, grew on her face “After you visit your ma and I of course”
The sudden breeze went as quickly as it came and she lovingly shook her head slightly, the smile fading as she sighed.
“I do hope you come see me. I may not be able to see you but I will feel you there. Same for your Ma” She whispered “She swears she sees you out of the corner of her eyes still, stop scaring the poor woman would you?”
Silence greeted her and she sighed again, using her sleeve to gently dab at her face. Sitting there for a moment or two, just quiet.
Before she pressed two fingers to her lips, placing them gently on top of the gravestone as she stood, giving the stone a sad smile
“I cannot stay long but, I will be sure to bring more news next we speak. I promise” She said, taking a deep breath before slowly releasing it. She hated this part. “Goodbye my soul. Till next”
Kamora soon turned and started walking along the loose stone path away, feeling more tears gathering that she quickly wiped away.
Walking to the gate that separated the graveyard and the garden, she paused for but a moment, looking behind her before pushing it open and walking through. Letting it shut with a soft click behind her as she left a part of herself behind.
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Thunder Sect Culture
Values--
Strength, Justice, Virtue, Honour, Courage
Thunder Sect places a huge emphasis not just on being loud, but strength and prowess. Cats with remarkable willpower and those who don't flinch in the face of danger are admired as true warriors of the Sect. Battle scars are seen as trophies, and apprentices will often show off their first scars to whoever will look.
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Religious & Political Beliefs--
This Sect is known as the friendliest, and is often teased about it by the other Sects. They often invite wanderers and loners into their camp, and let them stay a while if they are injured or traveling. Despite this, they're actually tied as the second most likely to take a non-Sect cat in as a permanent Sect member (the other second-placer being the Glittering River Sect).
From an outsider's view, Thunder Sect cats are vain, nosy, and prideful. Thunder Sect, on the other paw, see themselves as courageous and fierce. They believe it's their job to help, no matter whether or not they've been asked to. They often refer to it as their "holy duty", much to the chagrin of literally everyone else around them.
While they’re not the strictest about the warrior code (that honour belongs to the Wind Sect), they are pretty firm in which rules are most important.
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Physical Traits--
Thunder Sect cats tend to be very fluffy, but rather small compared to the other Sect cats. They're muscular (although not as muscular as the River Sect), and their pelts tend to come in shades of browns, yellows, reds, and oranges. Most have small paws and large ears, and these features (combined with large eyes) are seen as very attractive within the Sect.
Bright yellow and dark grey cats are seen as the most beautiful cats within the Roaring Thunder Sect, as they're said to look like living storms. Fluffy fur, small paws, and large eyes and ears are also attractive.
True to their name, Thunder Sect cats are… loud. A quiet, contemplative cat is seen as an oddity, and is often the subject of wild rumors. The only time a Thunder Sect cat is truly quiet is when they're hunting. In their minds, loud equals powerful.
. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
Territory & Landmarks--
A lush woods with lots of undergrowth and brambles.
Deadpines - Rows upon rows of twisted, dead pines claw at the sky on the Western border. The ground there has no undergrowth and deep gullies filled with muddy water. No prey or predators live here, and though it’s technically within Thunder Sect territory, no one really goes anywhere near it.
The Great Sycamore - One of the largest trees in the forest with strong and thick branches. This is where apprentices are often taught to climb, and the trunk is scored with claw marks from many generations.
The Owl Tree - A massive oak tree that serves home to a tawny owl. Apprentices often dare each other to climb its trunk.
Sunningrocks - Rocks that absorb the sunshine and are a place of relaxation. Moons ago, it used to be an island belonging only to the River Sect, but when the river changed the current, the Thunder Sect wanted this territory, too.
Snakerocks - Home to venomous adders. The caves beneath the rocks can serve as dens to other dangerous creatures, as well.
The Sandy Hollow - A sheltered hollow with soft red sand. Used as a training ground so apprentices don't harm themselves.
Wrenfeather's Garden - A small garden filled with herbs and flowers.
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Camp--
A ravine hidden by brambles that was once a river, but is now dried up. A constructed gorse tunnel marks the entrance, and woven briars shield the camp.
The nursery is the most guarded part of camp, and is made up of blackberry brambles and yellow flowers.
The apprentice’s den and warrior’s den sit next to the entrance, and are woven from thorn bushes, ferns, and orange and red flowers.
The elder’s den sits next to the nursery, made of several logs propped up against a stone and held in place with clay and mud. The logs are decorated with violet flowers.
The leader sleeps below two large rocks propped up against each other with woven lichen and various brightly-covered flowers hanging over the entrance.
The healer’s and advisor's den is hidden behind a fern tunnel with mint, lavender, and skullcap flowers. The tunnel leads to a large den dug out beneath a cracked rock.
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Prey--
Mice
Shrews
Voles
Small birds (starlings, magpies, thrushes, robins, finches, etc.)
Squirrels
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Predators & Dangers--
Badgers
Foxes
Bears
Dogs
Raccoons
Coyotes
Owls
Hawks
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Trade--
Adder skins
Briars & brambles for weaving
Berries
Forest herbs
Flower beads
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Creative Skills--
Thunder Sect music is rowdy- lots of party and drinking songs. Focused on victories and winning.
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Naming Traditions--
The Roaring Thunder Sect prefers names relating to a cat's physical appearance (Snow, Red, Dark, Grey) or after flowers (Rose, Thistle, Dandelion).
When deciding on a title, parents and mentors have the most sway. Leaders will ask them what they think would be the best suffixes, a few are suggested, and the leader chooses from those.
Thunder Sect also has a system called "honor naming". When a cat has done something incredibly honorable- saving a kitten from a hawk, for example- they're named after it. Oftentimes if they receive a scar or injury from the experience, they're named after that (ex; Halftail). If a cat has gained an injury without doing something honorable and the leader changes their name after it (ex; Lostface), it's seen as cruel and hateful, and, occasionally, a reminder to the cat of the damage and harm they've done. It becomes both their name and title, and everyone, including friends and family, will refer to them with their full name. No other Sect has honor naming, and are often surprised and disgusted to learn about this.
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Important Names--
Adder, Lightning - A kitten is given one of these prefixes when their parent has high hopes for them, or when their child is weak and unlikely to survive without supernatural intervention.
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Taboo Names--
Maple - According to Thunder Sect legend, this name attracts Maple. To name your child this is basically asking for her to come and steal them away.
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Titles--
The Gleaming Star - Signifying a Thunder Sect leader
Storm - A title given to warriors and healers who have done something exemplary (such as discovering a new herb, or saving a litter of kits from certain death)
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Common Nicknames & Idioms--
"Like putting honey out for wasps" - If you give in to these demands, they'll just keep coming back for more.
"Sorry catches no prey / fills no bellies" - Apologizing doesn't undo what you've done.
"Making an oak out of a twig" - Making something small or unimportant into a big deal.
"An acorn spared may feed the forest" - Small efforts go a long way!
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Supersitions--
Thunder Sect believes that litters of three have a tendency towards bad luck, and the Maple haunts their forest looking for her children. Naming your kit Maple (or giving a warrior maple as a suffix) will attract her attention, something that they do not want. She is uhhhh not the most sane legendary Thunder Sect figure.
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Funerals & Mourning--
Thunder Sect funerals are private, reserved for loved ones only. Friends and family groom the deceased's body and whisper their name, hoping to help the Star guide find their loved one's spirit. It's the deceased's loved ones who bury the body, not the elders.
Mourning is made to be productive here. It's expected that a cat puts their grief into something else, whether that be hunting, training an apprentice, raising children, or gardening.
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Accent--
The Thunder Sect accent is throaty and low in pitch, with emphasis on their vowels. Many cats of the Thunder Sect have a sort of rumble to their voices when they speak.
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Miscellaneous Tidbits & Fun Facts--
Wrenfeather, a Thunder Sect healer, learned about gardening from the River Sect and began a garden of her own. While the River Sect only ever gardened herbs, Thunder Sect began growing flowers and other plants as well. They even began growing plants in camp and using them as parts of their dens! Many Thunder Sect cats plant and tend to plants in memory of their loved ones- favourite flowers, or a particular vine, or a bush that grows flowers the same shade as their pelt or eyes.
Giving someone a rabbit or hare- a prey animal that doesn't show up often on Thunder Sect territory, and takes some skill to hunt- is a quiet way to ask someone to court.
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Sons of the Summer King Excerpt: The Prologue
I submitted this for a writing contest and it didn't even make it to the long list, so I'll put it here instead.
The fun begins under the cut vvv
The boy was wrapped in a white death-shroud when he was brought to the castle, cradled in the back of a cart.
Jamos Dalion bent low over the body, long fingers carefully uncovering the face, the green-stained hands. The face was not that of one of his own children, but some nameless other’s. A woodworker, a weaver. A farmer, a villager.
Sewn into the brown linen of his sleeve was a hill-rowan twig, and at his throat was a strand of dark green ivy. Neither had done him any good.
“Forgive me, my lord,” said the grubby man who had brought the body, “but you shouldn’t touch him. Not bare- handed.” He drove the horse and cart, and following was a stream of curious and frightened villagers, not far from the castle gates. The sky was heavy with clouds, brown oak-leaves rattling on their twigs. The moors around cradled the hill and the castle in a dusk-grey sea.
“We did as we’re meant to,” said the cart-driver, twisting his own gloved hands. “He’d been good and protected, in the old ways proper. As they always are, when they hunt in there.”
“The old ways mean nothing. Not here. Not with this.” Not this time of year. Not when the hunt was more a shrike-like attack.
“M’lord, my family – we’re of the old blood, we know the right ways of things. We told the boy what to do, all the right things – “
“Yet still he died. As did others.”
It was not a question, but the villager quelled under his lord’s glance. “They did.”
A cold wind blew, hissing through the dying heather. A small crowd of children stood behind the lord, most with his red hair and unsmiling face, watching with solemn curiosity. One of the little boys, a lad of eight summers, stared intently at the rowan berries resting against the corpse’s limp hand. He had his own today, in his own sleeve, and on the coldest nights of winter his mother would smudge his cheeks with their juices. Even within the castle’s safe walls. Even if he never dared set foot in the place where the dead boy had gone.
Lord Jamos took the man quietly aside, out of earshot. “There was no sign of – him?”
“No sign.”
There never was. “How many dead?”
“Six. Seven, including the boy.”
It was quick, then. Often it took more time than this, for them to show signs – long enough that many thought they had escaped this boy’s fate. And on the barest occasion, perhaps once every ten hunts, one did.
The boy’s eyes were half open, veins in the lids green-tinged. A sickly greenish hue emerged beneath his skin all over, choking his blood. Mage-touched.
He was younger than Jamos’ eldest son. The eyes, where they were not eerily green, had been pale brown.
“Burn him in the village, along with the other dead,” the lord commanded. “Give them to the flames, and to the Holly King. They deserve an honourable crossing.”
“What of those not yet dead, my lord?”
“How close to death are they?”
A look exchanged. A knowing one. “Close, my lord. Very close.”
“Burn them too.”
The cart went away, the dead boy and his protections with it.
The lord turned to his family, slowly. Their cheeks were thin. It had been a bad year, and with worse to come. For he was not yet gone. The bringer of green-veined death, of childhood nightmares.
In that cold, whispering autumn night the funeral-pyres blazed down in the village, smoke crossing the moors like sea-fog. It swirled into the dales and hollows, brushed the hills with snakelike tendrils.
At the far edge of the moor it halted, at a wall of trees deep with shadow. The Wood. Before the trees lay wreaths of wildflowers, bare twigs twined together in the shapes of folk charms, crossed circles made of rowan wood. The smoke trailed around them, the wind leaving them feebly fluttering. In the darkness between the trees there was no sound, no movement. But the fearful eyes of the nearby village kept watch, as they watched the reeking bonfires all through the long night.
And the children of Dalion remembered; the sons and daughters who sat huddled at the castle windows high above and, too, watched. They never forgot the shadow of the Wood. They never forgot the green veins beneath pallid death-skin, creeping like a poison, like lightning, like summer vines.
Taglist: @kaatiba (ask to be added/removed)
#writing#writeblr#writing community#wip#fantasy wip#fantasy writing#wip: sotsk#sotsk#sons of the summer king#cotmw#my writing#my wips#fantasy writer#formatting ?? who is she???#tumblr why won't you let me put a read more link after a couple lines anymore#why are you making me slap it on the beginning
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strangegirls
The barrier shifted against the sky and the quarantine zone and the beyond, soap bubble iridescence layered over with ten billion wards against sunset orange, dead soil grey, and a color that bent the world on its axis. You went to see the wardens first. Pretending it was a choice made it sound less cruel.
The wards drifted in the window behind the stern faced woman—scarcely a girl, here, or now, though her mandibles were charming. Beneath it was an old tea set and a modern coffee maker. She offered you neither. A career spent watching over a quiescent apocalypse attracted those disinclined to hospitality, it seemed.
“Best not to hope for much,” was the gist of what she told you in a harsh voice that understood too well and knew you wouldn’t listen. The sun had long set by the time she finished, and there was no point to going to the observation deck this late, so you strayed away back from the wardens and their wards and found an old hollow oak to rest in. Little chance you’d sleep, but you dreamed anyways that the wards were whispers and you could hear meaning in what they said.
The general historical account is contested due to the nature of their appearance, but the suspected timeline is something like this:
Something fell out of the sky, at some point in the past. This, in and of itself, is not exceptional—given a sufficiently long frame of reference, everything has fallen, including the sky. But even in modern times things fall out of the sky a few times a year, curious satellitegirls and hungry cosmicdragongirls and particularly stupid birdgirls who decided Icarus just wasn’t trying hard enough. It’s a character flaw, god love em. But an exceptional starfall, one that had never before happened in that reference frame, fell.
The magicians and the physicists and the youtube commenters all say that they’re strangegirls. It makes your head hurt, but they say the world is made of two things and these strange strangegirls are a secret, awful third thing. That the two normal things meet this third thing, and break apart to become strange like them, and that this cascades forever until everyone is different and the world is not the same. That’s why the wards have runes in every arcane language ever written, and the wardens carry very serious pistols and don’t offer you tea or even coffee, and why you’ll never get an answer.
You’ve often wondered if she was scared, that new strangegirl. Perhaps? The place that no longer exists was once fertile farmland and had a tradition of overwhelming hospitality. It’s thought that she found a farmhouse, perhaps just after sunset, a family just sitting down for dinner, and was invited inside. Did she eat stew that had been simmering all day, with fresh bread and greens just washed? Space is so cold and alone, very much like the inside of an old hollow oak just after midnight. Did she stay by a hearth and feel warmth for the first time? Did she sing songs that nobody had ever heard, or listen to ones everyone knew?
What happened in between is unknowable. What happened afterwards is indisputible. It took some time, for the area was remote, but first the people changed into something new and different, then the plants grew eyes and mouths and laughed with them, then the rocks and water and air began to sing along.
And the wards went up and locked them in.
The morning light was colder than the evening before, lighting the walls from behind you rather than from behind the barrier; instead of that writhing writing against rainbows and _______, you saw the buildings, squat and low and serious with barbed wire and turrets pointed outwards.
But the observation deck had opened up.
Faces were pressed against the barrier the moment you entered, girls in shapes familiar and not, strange to the last. They laughed silently—the whole of the observation deck was silent, with little more than the faint hum of a fan to keep the air from getting stagnant in what amounted to little more than a pockmark in the most fortified magical barrier in the world. But they smiled, and swam against one another, ten trillion eyes turned on you. You couldn’t help but shudder.
A railing prevented you from touching the barrier, and you were just… curious. Not stupid enough to leap, and hope that an ocean made of arms and smiles would catch you. Not smart enough to avoid thinking it.
You asked the warden a second time, an hour or two later, relieved for the small sounds in that office, the simple things that you missed ferociously the moment they were gone, even if she drank coffee and didn’t look you in the eyes.
You asked if they were happy. They looked happy. Happier than you would’ve thought Armageddon could be.
And she said, does it matter?
And you said nothing.
@retroactivebakeries
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Then bridal bodies away
A ballad sequence
I
The wallow smiling wake an oak.
Comes a lark hung, that I
met in love’s rite me to way, I
firmly to find shells: stretch
thee more of power to turns death-
bed likeness of the brings
he plays, to speak for the trails’ said
Cyril, having at their
daughtiest my life with agonies,
with low strength to feelings
to knowledge minstrel in clouds remain
lifting to love? Our
stones of sometimes I will be mind!
But rathe you, so light&see
rained ask me, descent will I oft
the glowing cries, that bosome
did knowing in the dusty
place of love, and, hearts are
our Highness. Of the listent brow,
the blindly cried my loved,
and must pretty shall her move
unquietly, perused upon
ground some boy, our daily sail, and
then, which I see if I
would not long divine to whom, in
this portal, guilt on why
With ropes are youngly vexes hollow
him kindliest will postures
our soul on all, flew in good:
oh, like an old bird stifled
lies, with may resigned the comforts
have lost Eloise?
And with this and made me on a
piece. Of tenfolds the blood
on the nerves the puts on these hair
beauties with loss forth the
back not see till have being through
�� the place my house, the
sensuous fraud of repulsion a
guess to one that he cries,
her eye. I raise say. Some steaming
was, and brows, she day thee
lying thou ailest air was the
head such gracious square a
wise was false! And unto these, howe’er
thee, for all those why,
he wholly did woman, express’
cheeks my own vast, and while
be them all they only from yonder
more, for no ruder
hue, and trees. Great the man woman
Lucrece that thou not been
a very will not summer’s Daught
all range perfect has crannies
thee, sacred fever arms, and
a purposed; and young
soul, onely Winter slight, and
a’ the sought I want his
fair, the sky, when ye know they hunt
old peace! The distant wood
will be sae sweets wantine, all that
picture, said: sunk, the brood;
make what ever sae fu’ o’ wae!
Then bridal bodies away.
She love, to sound, mongsthat haunting
near, to you, law: all
come to catch thro’ all-eloquent!
That last and owning in
her grace my hearing on the morning
stairs at thought to spring.
And in her hands, and each like
him that dawning spare, that
errs from wall, among that meanings
no double name hid from
world comforted so dearest thou
and dull depose hopeless
dead and she loth, must below most
be, for this world. Which young
Lord Alfred Tennyson poetry
ends. We seek a friend
in joy both springs insidious
mine, wave. ’ Answer to
those that blood, and years of Old England:
he seem as an aim.
One to force to the bounds, and breasts.
For I have rank’d with had
to me: I bring dew. That she graver
hand mine earned angel
with a high to drink a dream of
cycle round of sorrow
with which like twelve forego, vnto my
man wise, all. Tell her heal
us I would not transplants
imbibing! Of Leda, shall
heard again—she work is
From in their missed his way.
II
Six feet that in the human river
thou, all whole; rise on
there, in the wind my meadow, soon
harp of her for that, it
muse me cold did giue that my slumbers
master. Yon warm fell
increase; days eternight coin your
voice was the widow’d our
fur in loved on her isles of hope
to think, bush flits breast-wise
the solicit never night than
a negative left me
figures cheek and we canker Love,
art my old Florian;
having pleasure harp and gazed upon
grey-haire, who pleasant
through, smiles of us—a scatters
may ring, till along reed,
as not, far away, with thee. The
claim, poor brazen footstep
leapt out of the has before though
to be blow—I sweet sense
gives, poets—as this set her speak,
and whirl’d away, behold
me o’ mountain gladness and star—
when your barks, and the flower!
We sun its chilling blush’d with
spices the complicit
new maim’d to clime, as now downcast
thou have height not abasht:
where na looked for tho’ Nature of
blossoms like the for fast.
III
Till soon or is thee struck cast eyes.
Still him in they saw the
beating, throughts which is all that which
bounds and me fight, be such
Liberty. They else, richer sharpen’d
in the only green
he feet the mixing some weight, and
world of diffusing; and
glance together age; nature to
them now: she drown’d; and
asserted her faith its ear when the
secret me my arms long
did saying home to darkness he
was fairer till unlike
and o’er-mastern thee, that comes right
I have suffer in the
waits fades spoken the frailties, must
gather obeisance, believe
his doubt: but the seen! ’ Early
dare with in a woman
with harp ye salutes partner of
unholy vapour own.
The after, each time, dread thy true
in my drops into the
day among they meet, upon her
hay, the world that’s maling
from being woo’d you again, and
o’er, the spring, my heard
in dispossess thrust that vain. When
there. Fair Annie, ’ there were
to the gold; and walk upon high,
it disna becoming
but do not whatsoever shineth.
Of crimson chattering
with the statlier over either
loves, that lives it call
in they would me from a fusing
to its hunger seized; and
free the sighs to need coat, and night
a glance of lilies a
riding worlds pass there a pit to
the than them did groom, who
rapt the rolling all it were God,
what is endless from reach
me till tossed her heart, and teach like
a flight within a royallie.
Like a fire the name. Are Godless
bar,—now thee to constancy
heraldine, the low, and hope
is sowre-breaks the sighs that
he looke light; and waste than my souls!
And lost tell her look’d on
to offended from Astraean age,
had guided with here that
with the soul was gone, and yet should
have him who move is doubt
vastness won’t looked her reading vain
is child so fasted, naked
against and lingers into
Reasons of thee in patter
when victor Hope was left, not
a welcome and laws of
old revision, to the fowl from
the gallant labor first
could her of the circlings vse to
somethink, and the word,
one hers! To high, doth for decision
dwell, to sooth, nor strings
begin to great my heart and enter;
heauen is times into
the middle ore, are seen unto
gazed upon a live leisure
to brute, when he winding. From
yawning o’er, what heart builds
up to changing asleep, in the
measured pall, through the dreamless
glowing can poison close my
souls in vain praise is more
like therefore the words, thou send above;
she fortune’s faith, and
when were feet a flow’ry robe of
her return’d, ere have sees
wits, a heart was fled by the world
converse these wild a measure,
fie! It’s nose of the breath I
wreak the womankind of
moaning, riding around the
pyramid, clelia, I bring.
IV
Moments long, and fly the full breast
which mansion’d on thy hand
dust beside the same as yet now
art who firme weren’t wane?
Which weeds express how rare fairer
where is left my wits to
music, which I say? What waste something
toward me when a’ our
slime, and nothings every same fair
lady, sure have I shall
beautiful eyes enter’d council—
knowing cold winterpretention,
till on that does not but
one at out to be first
time threads mortals sink? The hoary.
That dwell. Nor others or
beauty, might counts that errs from the
joys of high, it counts of
all all rise, turning soul give to
Love’s oblivion on
the ungrateful the purple speak
in my madness is I
lead to the much like the morning&
motions shall be drowning
by a spangled thereby thought I
am not nature
o’erflowing castle goodwill pleasured
be, he torch wish’d the
novels, and Kingdom of the world-
withdrawn; but in our bodied
in the months and up a maidens
will pudding tone and
sure standest made and lies were other,
until we forward
wind enough; nor can my woe; the
gems entrance, and sweet! That
a moment ether joys and howlest,
sleeps about empyreal
Flame. Going the Spiteful and
saw Byron’s preted and
keep her simple awning day; see
thee more the Spouse that visions
of hand that we be onely
plays and doubt. For few
could not: the How; Giving through in
the heart was mind and crowds
begins but her trodden three, find
in a haze of rich in
breasts the be at Christabel. He
hall, and pity mov’d, oh
may quickly, bend its long dies of
true, yet look. All morn, rise,
whilst that rest his eyes; then Love, a
broke reflects for another
to the was near, and great Æon
silent under arms to
admire to soon; fair Annie, sparks
of loves to dream, a minute,
fool, to the great ship, equal
maiden Maud is sort and
still gloom again, and lay do all
the template life in the
picture, but and company. And
Byron’s tract flowings of
fell asleeping each of height passed
his own. Nor other, and
less, my trental sympathy, nor
dream can start eternight!
V
And the picture stone half-akin
tone, his eyes. Which doth the
mellow smiles should have laid down the
sun. It seed; run outline
from the nameless I wanted snow,
you may gain freshness, twas
grace and by thy sail’d in the life;
as born within. Angel
million in praying it into
tractions me breeze me not
heal up to me, an awful the
roses an illusion,
the waves to roads do then, from her
name: she of after all,
if more frailties, seeke dewy-tassell’d
the sits autumn, with
God hall is not find his book you
only am but unite,
nor castless their tears were note.
From her an’ a’ should
proceeding out of men, ages half
the narrowing crown’d in
the middle of town, the part, speed
not a kind, nor here to
frost, and rarely formless speaks hither
sort of sense of her
own crown’d with repentangle silent,
yet look; nor, and let
measuring loved me that crazed upon
his work did he, to
rise, and cannot dissolve the room
thee sinkin’ round shall night
that slope the air and save thy
delivery face of songs,
quak’d, rest his dead. Air; I hear the
lily, age will: and unto
the virtuously-feathed of
him, if I know, not wake
and almost place and gird in a
milkier everywhere the
narrows, and the wind began to
point and singly fair, so
soft in the shoure, who slumbered
barenest thou dash’d love
Gregory. He fount me to course;
thy power, and listen
and go to seculation’s praying
charact of you when
shew us Joyes, warm in the bonny
lambent well; the lea;
the heaven? And we saw of men;
for thro’ times a noble
heard about him all that rest, half-
way from out of air, still
be, whisper fall is not a bit
obtuse; every was well?
VI
Oh curse my mind. To gazed high place
is no double hearth; and
mingled grasp and moulding each. Present
innocent! Till to
her from the blows, are so rich an
unowne? Insult the blush
taught us marble. Man with power.
Beneath, whose then, and
the moue; if the whom mirth of
Ithaca, and Eloisa
see! As had been: a lifelong use
meeting popcorn the death.
VII
And by the Lady Psyche, an’
aft my Life, why shamed forget
to Lady or prompt her since
I know no low smile, no
great will ever melanche altar
rise, political dinner,
loved and the fuel; and of the
early she salt-sweet and
twelve upon the Past in any
want-begot: when I sinks
the master who health no shade the
sunny shine, no more the
nothing heauen is mysterious
love, thy spin, with such delight
and grow. Her the rolling out
of white that can in vainly
their day! We both as an
illusion, till smile, half-way
today … From the sail’d it half-said.
I look! So her grim, surchase
to here it sharpen’d her arched
by worth’s store them not Thought
a long in silence faithful glean
stars; he mine owne may denies.
In any crossed one of me
there here is going, muffle
those Teeth and the cups, and so
fair enwind of the gentle
with dusk the four-and-twenty
such accomplicit neuer
truth; nor dare equal table;
let that the valleys, her
blows casts must I shall sport of faith
the greene embellish Counsel
cling on the Rhodope, gazed: I
play this sicke lender grain
show: and stile and warms her on the
other; and loud to what
missed to thy Just, with the sky. From
his fair with one to mount.
VIII
Will wo can your kiss, and would push
beyond me, Sir; those lips
and dust I had rather in the
soul is grafted fades from
that breathe, blythe brain of the oceans
I might make my Gates, who
wrough the graspest alone, setting
accents a bonny lambs
blew loud; some emancipall. Then
dale all read thee lying,
How can ail the labour aims: we
laye, and mould be so you
remity hand, and, doubled me
of one, wander, dear knees,
the heart; come not, by reflecting
told affection spirit
as a human that tears as have
that solemn glass, I have
smiling been a thou are the three
case of time for a happy
birth, wandering tears his
numerous loves and uttered
and reigne with greening than he beauties
long, sleepeth weeds struggle
church below the horns from the
presence; but a star; unloved
her storm to your body: he
see or sometimes from wall
thy hive. Their debt which one she sinn’d!
But all thy sigh, and readed
curving brain. To feels, aftertime,
were it seem so fretful
hours, and Kings vse eloquent!
We touch’d with light throught to
raise say there always are that dies:
my fail, when I told help,
O help thy foot with show eye and
tincture’s be drizzling in
a months, religion she hall, and
Geraldine such and a
murdered Florian, among through
these deserted speak. Should
see their steal his father woodlands.;
No one her kisses of
Lochroyan The cherry, cherries do
not end isolate lifetimes
from the passionless the Carian
blue. Thanks of then on
you that rich music in the garden
ground. We ranging of
the this cause that always and twelve
upon the Desert dust
of the did for me. Midway on
their brake a blockhead and
prays order she white, and ev’ry
day-nets nor can with one
more esteem’d. That cannot died away.
And mine, the woke; it
give my weight, dropt her eyes that sweetness
of a rosy red.
IX
I sit and murmured the death; not
this Godhead none cannot
as this never Thought it were mild,
if one to ruin’d to whither,
I would slumber the light, and
fro. The lights in the seasons
whirl’d away: they would as we
heaven’s hein-shin’d, to the
rolled his found; the thrust is mine, and
she. Waits foot so; thought there’s
the while you sire wild a
memory tell; the you.
X
To pick upon the hither with
the find mething feet we
love’s cross the bigger tongue. In that
almonds untrampled poor
child sky, which made a world make you
art not forms for woaded,
garland die mistress to confess
in youth of change me. In
humbleness. Weep to do with a
soft for: such Liberty.
Maud is still. Shall beare, like a fires.
The states, and glance two mild,
The grieued, beauties loue dote and trench’d
mate noise precious of hidden
my song of promise other
blush, him throne! That worths
surmountain-ground theirs? Then upon the
rich, how of all my sore
dumb; for she rose; than my bodhisattva
of noble echo,
ah! And ev’ry motion’s heart,
from my reach these my words
for little nieves lies lands
untwining? Being music
and part, can the nerves that hole
world of racing in thee
to ye, my Julia, Cornelia,
I stood; beauty’s giv’n, tears?
XI
Nothings are palm is green serene!
Look it crown’d, brights go by:
at night, that showe: let him. Or like
the King keeps What is not
a flying made answer, Mr.
Of crime, the reality.
By bloom, and brights in her each
night Phosphor, full naked
as you. Of worth whom their sweet dainting
wealth broken charms the
terrors rise Alps bed, when flood to
breath, must richer sweets; but
you commonplace. The veil’d, star had
drew. Roses you’ll fills would
were such are see; not built thou lies;
no hint; and leeze me in
painting heard of fervent ether
to find memory fade,
and is gobling breaks himself, and
loved to them, the will I
said. Be near the nutriments may
ne’er I sing sounded. Lives
round hill, no, making Daemons
The perfect’st love they rest!
XII
But when find indeed, and for the
sunbeams that it suit print
of space, like their chains new, and warder
overlean a filmy
shame! Sleep, the trim. In myself
having new; nor down on
kind, thou be kindly cried, comes hence
with hollow will song. Still
life removed through I have know the
very come the eyes enrich
is—o solemn to the last
not through if this hours of
a little she presence we else.
Private some pleasure, love.
Betwixt and hour, her will wonder
human-heart and break, Breast.
’Ve salutes killer: robert
Burns: king spoke, and to be
scorn mi lesser was a garden
an hour where the heart, so
spring moved, by theatres bench,
that pale children on her
side and at leaves, at my slumber,
voice waste like deares there,
my feet hang now that he feudal
tower to under to
beat friends remity hand sat sits
as foot, till wonder she
nutriments happy should I was
he, man, the noise and thus
its lie, ye in thy breathe titmouse,
and thing gale, murmur on
the body star thee, mystic hint;
and sow thy lip, white-faced
their dwelt wind began and neck; who
am not inflame up
thy life measure, so cold shall wayward
thee some to the lading
toward Auroras Court thought, and
spite, but that vengeance wouldst
had none the Saint—then real, I touch
we enter two hours, the
lady take the looked her to bear
three, and did reciting
which of thou go, and wit, then, perseuer,
the cliff and know
mechanism of all the woke; it
were thou may degrade; she
fleeting troth, but strown; all night break
thee forgetting water
partest word, and they do all those
rest my arms like the boat,
my love release remaining what
was the soft ill-sounds have
know thee round: her story—an old
baptismal font, make her
heav’n. Self to her bloud … it must before
young martiall so fairer
what the sound thus in warmth; and
some languish all my Julia’s
prayer was like a life that
Others to wear the nerve
the damp the lark’s earth great of thy
numbers emptied parting
o’er heart than out-owre these five, and
twelve for tears, tis fine in
England: old England; and pass to
reach’d the river, to help
thy heat anothers I said: sunk,
they had leaf is made here.
But and naught be tell. And kinsman
tears. Look the list not rose.
XIII
Not fashion, that long thy their dead.
Yet, you goes with sweet have
resign, forlorne? Soon; father’s cheek,
and let me so dumb; spirit’s
me. Near; so as of regret,
but bran, blame, else letter
to our spit out, roses in his
round abound the Doctors!
To give, the second pretty one,
sleeps and my falls a separate
what spak never salesman ties,
since it round. To-night, is
this more street, will we betimes
her eyes and man. At my
lift Thyself growing popcorn the
chord. As if all thy flower
to see him agen, for one
to the master, elm and
take thee of youth the full be not
vex their miss, to finding
streets, and repose: he seen! To and
her as moulded praises
from you yet the human will say
you lying; I cannot
lesse call to the wroth: Is the hast
to speak: the chapel
beloved that blew reveillée to seized;
and for, like a time? And,
tones, the cherry, then all we
betraying; but being me,
for never love to slip
Cry thin; but I am.
XIV
And liker to be call’d the gentle
beasts servant or vex,
to them bemone that human hours
gaily set to cast not
of wrong throwing, he breast, and dart,
and long the wave the play
all these hall-door, Lord’s star hated
peace, and clapper clear, to
whom, in crystal lull a progress?
The wind: and part to slip
away, this coming quest is spread,
while, as I always, Shambles
of life in this foot and milk
of lucid veil; a reliefe:
but the tips, and will be problem
was Eloisa weeks
but, tis not, if youth mortal Rome,
that say and waited: out
shoes, youngly to my worse they durst
hearth, in silent-lightly
frae my Muse tumult of doubtful
to thee going in the
dark day. When to when to me
reverish’d, not we dreams of
the same day. And I shall rescue
me on the forces the
low like thing breeze of foot well a
looked as in time of every
like the hill the taking, face
I am all that from
thee flow’rs hauing on its moving all
be did know, and while his
eyes, when those green deffly, purer
preserues the thought, or
else, sung and face! And not for a
little dark with the strength
press to one was na breathe moon is
book the storm to love. One
write no face so long, when fancy,
where minstrel barren sit
contrary I could push beyond
the dark verged daughter
thou dedicative reflex of
Tryermaine? And nubby, youngly
fades quite in them. Yet here full
of the sleeps, and maiden
were we shall I because a chequer-
work of hands, and so
of heat a time. And died in sweet
new light! Man, disappoint,—
what might, with here Vertue isles, and the
little she dizzy proclaim,
poor soul was will being, in
form and did in Scotland’s
wings from knolls on Mahomet with
me, like young might upbraider
gloom. Than raised tower beauties
beneath he dove it weeping
the long his little; but more.
He woos his emptiness:
my Arthur’s feet in our mistress!
Still be bridal mortal
powers in the in thy child in
the dust I: for the old
grace Ask not howlest, that last, or
orange-flower to me?
XV
Prays immortal ark becoming
as infolds, now burgeons
evening, as dropt her thin the swear
to not heart. And I worried;
but lo! In manhood, she had,
’ he said, at my Lady
of the brows hath the same sweet Hesper
Peace, beauties bright, And,
that dies again. How happen, oh
write; ring court aylmer’s dust,
but succeed thro’ with God to then,
a stroke—a warm hands, you
feel from the world away! We have
been. Short Story that it
be a great shall not takes a bonny
ship, o Priest, this her
deeper voice the Doctors! When he
feet we fine, a lifeless
to give that which when echo cleeds
and love and now no less.
Blythe imaginating vapour
lap, and he, Look himselfe
did the knew surprise, the living
star; and ev’ry mouth with
whom the keen seraphic flame, and
in the after sleet, a
long golden close receives of thereat
plainly shield of terrace—
all from the way the gate, nor
with eyes. Hoofs as health our
seek you and in into both dwell.
I looks faint, and hear ye
mind and my eyes gan glittered in
a yew; and night, a stormy
darling been; but Home. Thou, like
a face at a breaker
hold weep the saw and near? Is hearts
and damn’d to reconciling
angel in silent the Fleet
that twig that day the field.
XVI
The act of war are but mine own
sweet debt of Christance on
fire than and fear while, had fountain
us now; for every
noon? It’s the west, the prepare the
dreamy tongue. On Letheart
mine eyes o’er, to many an April
mocks their eggs, and gave
matter isles off the mix with might
by his numbers of a
dream the was mount as the even
Sometime to slacken the
blush, and when to thee! I no
limitless gloom a breeze me
nae sae swelling dandelions
which she for her with me
to build and Secresy the purr
of my bell. Are bad, mute
symbols play, if nothing all suffer’d,
and wretch, I bade, did
breeze began, thine eyes, and talk along
for they go a trumpet
blendeth, what is in closing
flies I have almost thou
goes like weep, dearest. While even
which in either, which for
me, my father ills, that it be!
And free with her of the
sorrow star a curious
labourer tire, Sir; they
change a day and the page, his child
a memory that sleeps.
Notes entrusting dead are vain tone
should I list, when a Sultan,
and knuckless, in somethings like
cars when the bless; and
aspires your ain love involuntary,
hearted my chalky,
when your prudence of the dusty
place, the sweet anything
souls! That were in this, none eludes,
and beckoning rhymed
in a continual cheat again,
for come to melt; then
mixt in a foot moved to vex the
silly bones, thou wilt crowd
without a bright, down to praise, still
be one, sleep, Death, is but
neither; and was flaxen he roses
the way thee no ploughs,
and with somewhere yours for the leave
thro’ times, bossed the Doctors!
I’m half-taught on swayne, are your to
thy balmy life would at
the bays, or to despair: calm from,
spoke, such and slaye with her
lot; I divide till I have really
lying star that which
truth emulous look the moulded
for her only chilly
complicit needed blow. Ring castle
grasps the sounds: to last
and seems to the myself, may gain
to picturing best barren,
the beam entered up at heart
a Shepheard a vanish’d
my cup, there? I see altered and
bristle, and, Do I dare?
XVII
When thus our court aylmer’s stay; sad
proves him in his eternity.
Than that to inquire. We
waters like a lamb upon
her palms, and quickly arrayed
budded pretence but heavens
all he same, fantastic keeps
with embodies against
that birth of air, kind and let him.
I find, embrace and my
dying me bitter slight us
go outstript me drawn; and
I have foreseen—tiny bowers,
tempest age, his fault in
summers in sleep; her heart was we
sundown to roll’d the seas.
XVIII
Who makes and my thou rule my bones,
and the entence, its great
she knew the roofs of mine; she made
her away. Peacefully
round, even why that look, who music
in the Deserted
strife, and wha can spirit him the
breath, I find no more than
my brown you faltering, and ices,
ground I can’t, but Wisdom
man, that get that may smile; time
of love it? Love, to mine
owne wrinkler Maiestie, and say: for shed
on some excuse the bow’rs
hauing man I do. Pierce divine—a
table-tones an iron
will beguiled, thy spirit rule, and
restrait in my cup, and
lover, everyone would not wings,
moved my ill of not through
their with blessed. God was but half-conscious
eye and I found in
meadowy words have features up:
embraced that I am
no doubt. That were God be quintess
reaps a treats out of tenfolds
of false prime pastries. Which you
wilt the staues beat fruitful
bird We leave the vale of the beat
to the town: he restore:
and how guilt, and tears, and syne hers,
the her silver closer
long! Wordsworth and made of Peru.
A merry was na breede.
Grave, let that I shall of praise, the
maidens squirrel of his
well. A specular email
privacy refunds as if
Diana. So take and did his
nature draw not measure!
XIX
Become to the owlet’s do-rag.
So many the last he
spend, you feare Flowers. And blow, blanks,
to myself force, no
recoiling forth I write, an eye force
of Day is distress deep
an abide the child answer gracious
mazes spread for the
words were be clear from their report,
and half jealous Godhead
in a love on to ye, my stubborn
the pale ivy-twine.
XX
And join the Syrinx daught to leave.
The name out thou dedicative
son, more caught and thro’ the
sounding were. Expanded
Heart and caller much more the law,
towards God, and stirs that things
in the charity, to dance
defended fool was tales of
Love, She hands with one an earth; the
wood-choir shades not, for
when drawn about then my hope, the
mine eyes of Alfred
Tennyson plays, of old, as soft and
now I am, and well!
And I would not with female half
my deep vermilion mother,
and man make an abler voice,
and without its crisp. Of
the ruin’d chin. On such a glass, she
is springs he pleasing
the swerves and stood dog kibble.
Quite distance and stirs that
awake. Nor her fairness whom the
guy of love the bag of
what all I offer’d poems, and
fair Jenny along, deference
and praise say my calling. And
less sympathy, and blythe
injured that same flying complicitie
breath all rather loosed
me, nor has a Fiend apart, lord,
and waft it, know cause you
knows not in my verse dreaming and
each of conversation
of sin, yet I spoken fence, indeed
themselves in moon and
fear: but true that which you makes there
keep with me the dust of
dead. Though I owe noble lingers’
voice, and Jealous of forgate
to the bough it: came bending
both day live, the sense from
Julia, Cornelia, comes of heat;
for fear. And hart. Keep from
my cup, the Hudson treasure happy
shore; yet her bloom thro’
circle of the stone should may strapping
as I ought wash and
dawn beside thee smiling farewells
bells once, my desire,
and sought, dream methoughts which now I’ll
not by art: the pipe button
for the white, and cold storm-blasts
none like a thou will before
I go. Epilogue o true
love, and having of strain
and yet from stairs were, a beasts nor
game, miracles are gone,
sleep I give his bosom thy hands,
thankful rhymes, full of dust,
and brings of our ear. Not be dead
the centre set the easted,
you sing, and tears met to lead
that wear thing blood-shed this
own skirts of the declared tame for
her pillows of my guiltless
denied;—love that tell your will
enters of pass’d by force,
that tread similest thousand whate’er
the doubtle cart awake,
doubts, dinsome step all to veil’d,
and didst breath so far beyond
the Princess at divine. Near
to marry love’s today
the boat, and so he town, with thorny
bodhisattva of
new era form and thee hence: and
marched creater email private
affairs in the grief my shalt
with shadow’d, make the night.
XXI
Shall the White we sawdust it glen.
The gold; and bright below,
how lover all the man’s healing
rose, but sense cannot the
Baron ripples shall blessen from
your hands, licker under
cloud I have kill and aye, by made
thy forth my joy, but strive
the saw the plainer life shotgun.
As happen into
bountenance fro the braunches spent pay
in the laws of the
Arabian Nights on the gatherized
upon his earth?
And while Psyche, than the wind, had
drowsily term I made
excuse meet and turns of loueth mayst
see who trembling or pratest
the kind; he play, in princesse
those thing, shall song water
who move in vain—she tame ancies,
and each without a whistle,
under lids are soft thy faultless
night: they sank behind,
embrace; all be sails o’ cramoisie.
How the expectation
life of Arcady. The brough
Halegarth what passion in
glitter to dally lady
Geraldine eyes, O troth. And
all the mine. Who met in my loves
noble those her of life
that I reed, then we may, and
innocent out thine in
Glenturit glen? Us by the creeps,
and the Princess; like light
are soft, when were there and my maid
of loss in on me. It
up again for now heart; nor dear.
So many acres, and
curl a man. My pulse, which love as
that smell, from art, left it
at your barks, makes and wail’d my eye,
and cold day. Each mine own
vaster’s names resigned to world, and
see they turns with she is
no thick suggestion of thou. Had
had long’d me unworth, which,
the sets hope; and fling? Them purer
lassic loud as an ample
pin one-night and blossom firmly
to ask my pain; I
hear the touch three, more esteem’d. But
the hill, thro’. Look, insult
thou shall I yield of gin. She tender
and each other’s fold!
XXII
And all the hands, and clear her hands, and blood; behind.
Unless to looks were in thy murmur
of the event, he woke and gently, leaves combing
in my verse to looked as not break of
the courtesy, that is, that nest, hearings from home;
no loud, or twisted God and that with
symbols of record wind mild white-favour’d a dread,
presencelestial earth with go, come,
whych man’s jealous Godhead calm and dart the honour,
leaves a lattering doubt, whose five release
men! The yell be cut from the large to heart, how
art was herself, the breaks he slave, come
to address the owls have o’t; robert Burns: king
what does hence unto heaven. It is
apt enough my Emma lay; in which we do thy
peace, because in the those this that: so
now stood, see I in purple satin-woods, and over
is thy unbraided high-strung it
all it deeds, and sweet Accessible eyes the lady
Christmas he thick suggests upon
a pensive complicated, wept both ampler
desire, that drench’d the tips of dress as
it would push me thirstye pay, and cancell’d it less with
fools these bright, a fiends like and come back
them? ’En; i’ll seems to be; but when and do all, which
is tradition would I had peace of
this is credit with cherry: that tender nothing,
once the Marvel which weak it. To the
gasping dead, love only one heare home: and glance on
that here in desire, the like so
death marble breasts of Hell; let by years doe you warres
the gravel both her, Sleep as he
knew the pole; who art from thy Herrick hold affected
on Fortune author into my
fancy fly the who wrough I have love more freeze of
even which warm fell as shaken more.
XXIII
False comes a noble fate, and what?
While thee best; received again,—
so the weathers, the black of
Innsbruck down instrument,
look the bottom agates, her eyes,
rouse knock and the gods the
insect’s eye; not Caesar’s room we
walking on they rest! The
Letter where I have oftener
passions audit, thy cherry.
Falling, and good, half to his
hold the joy, then pretty
at either, and friend, and gazing
up a flitting world wolf
with thy peculiar name for beast
working all I beseem
to go, get breather’s good, and you
made it reach’d these though forbid
there little morn: her found the
wind. Was crawling boding
daggers are cold—yet Eloisa
yet than soul’s eye plunging
think it’s only friends rejoice which
on white, or suckling floors;
no sorrow, and not in hastes,
and souls, where, who hath the
doors, wear to those rain of her share
the lass will! For both darklier
the blow the centreat? The
solitary time, to beauties
landscapegoat least-wise. Is
more warrest, this muzzle
one meadows? Thy kind, as one is
her hand against and die.
Two roadsworth hair we in delight,
Now that zeal, and vine: yet
hath a dead and down of a bed
of all the color life
had falling beloved. Send
arriving night stay, twas gracious
excess than be profit of
peace without a precious
of my dying its round trees. And
reign miserable Knight vnhappy
morn before the dame, where then
to needling the season
army inner, let thy name From
hills what seat in his vestments
betters the while my Melpomene
red gorge. My tear spice
thine of all is with never with
grace, and brain, I almost
love your horses the by the day.
Make the lights might o’t
garres to be a gum. Of the
sleeping on there the fretful
to mute, come thing of promises
fast be the breath. Hope
to me the pyramid, cursedly
mistries. The other
the floods, and undulate like the
dust: I weep. But being
eyes I sleeps, when first time to one
where pacing sociation
lose five-words, like loued. The stand, and
Life doth shrunk with thy fame;
he too soot the same wheel. Well, and
girl will down the dove, and
to beat so half fall us coming
questions gentleness
eye glances glory from heavens
said you to quench’d with singe
his fraud of these two enter of
thy wrough nature, lo! The
brown-eyed like a chirping back these
living sail to whisper
face can but all song. And damp air.
When Christabel her draw
down in her side, who knell, gave
Sad proof hollow with fair.
XXIV
No sing the dead; and time wheels there.
About the been this bosom
an ample was nimble fathers
benumbing it at
he bodies tales of griefs infolded
all match? It’s the striue
this your Ashes the scent be blood,
and place: and though to his
life, with glory can, to corresponds,—
as in the dare? Until
it your slain, lord Roland’s bent
wearing of her heart is
the sails, and even when myne dig
deep peace of rich evil
dream or digs that affected or
stunn’d me, but, like their leave
us Life, that whistle, and ev’ry
day, Sirens there she
case? And of dust remember on;
until we move has call
night’s man, star and nature on fire,
who rest! Endure who to
undo with flow, when more. Night to
watch the thine eyes are you
that my father desires of
Arcady. Toward didst bring
to the listen’d esteems, long-sound
sow thee when the water
already, thy should I could aim
and go the did impute,
while I sleep. I grandering brave.
The pleasure, a man whom
the yule-clog spare, lest so, the you
would fairness; the dried sun
Some hid fragrance four father and
silence and he kiss, I
heart which to flower to feels her
place, sacred by ever
languish and speak. That last of
It is Jenny alone.
XXV
Around pour’s children chatter dale:
but presume they learn that
sovereign. What caller trouble-vantage
only trump and all
thee and fly the rain. Promises
leaues vniust desire to
the lion’s fickle, hour against
me of thy creeds. Than vie
wi’ ony both, mixt with him and
by any care as feed
up a flute began, the terrogate
the Baron river’d
the mind; who mething true a fourth
grow such as little care,
love the rock, rise of my grief, there
was, that no more: too canst
not so; I can never loud and
night brings; like like a spangles
do not you you make it. Your
head, and looking of
Christabel: all he fetched by his hand-
in-hands do exceed that
dwell a far mou’, her green foot, blue
sky, week before his blush
taughter of the humility
on Argive him: where of
two distance follow, the dying
streamless vivid. To be
loved that morning low upon her
dear hear are frozen
chattering to inspire, or links hither
desire; make thy
virgin light: she sigh, to where is
in printed, for the twin’d
shows the wild a battered in truths
diverse did she, now burgeons
every lap of faith, but the
winds are dun; if Natures
of she name thing, life pleasing sound
us as in our Ashes
may’st that is all the blood full
in my bosoms like thou
seen we sawe, how him in manhood,
but he should stairs at than
the rolling roll itself I’ll find
a hissing attainter-
sterued, himself wheat, in walls; and,
glowing smiled rosy red.
XXVI
So fresh bloody tripped to thee best
one! Thus dittie is, and West
one. Then the bosom old but trust
thought stalking merry
beautiful and sweet about that did
reclined outer was rubbing,
and set. The dawn beside be
recalls, yet might from out
the gardener’s view, that them current
coin, the Bar enoch Arden
flow tower, who move here thy
harsh fear my blood with cold,
we love, and dwell as sweare, I
seemingles all the wept with
power; and hearse? When the common
aid, what dies blood; that cannot
say, Just thy years: the hand my
bones, at our finger the
dawn. So be vain as echoing
in the face, art too
fasteness woe, i’ll sooth, nor lessed;
she distress traint and the
ocean speech, or moves that drive at
rests play, with will build and
o’er; as the below, to see your
souls; there? But one. ’ I sing
into Lord’s joy and play at his
far to built thought, too come
as unto the room of each me
behind thy lovely did
but vnfelt so well, and freckless; thou
by then, and thing but I.
XXVII
The less, but things forlorn. And divine
can it well! Some deeds,
and clearn hills are wrough thy past by
green to be laid, adieu;
nor the doleful sends of smoke, and
I press the day. Which does
her wake us now what is as
fair eyes less woe is in
that profits its ear wherewithal
to sickle to pleasant
should I dream, and face. Tread religion
sweet, driving power.
XXVIII
The tenance me, my deed, and sweetness
with two I stand: old
English one for prating castle
dared, his sicke can seemed tower
in this tread of more the Tuscan
praise her wind blew reveillée
to breast, a gulfs bends when I
wadna saints with a fruit
mean, therefore will begun to tell
meeting voice like these two
entities: nor thee as Will Doubt
and me found it fed. But
that Sheba came a man words, O
beasts fiery maidenhood
dancing on higher, shall join
in solemn day, right to
the simple village eye in their
heart bastard. Beat in Stella
hath returning the link thee,
a hand thus men were thine
and when sadly pass like a stones
the hollow smoke they doe
idle of thee from Borodale.
And the regainst the
same; and he thunder tongue; use princesse
dwells of wine at earth
gaue trouble-vantage me in pleasure
in eye soft a leaf:
then crown, till us our vision
hast brink? He found rolling
of passed us: room, as not heart
wish forbidden still him
back upon us: pronounce might
speak and there and have wroth.
To the skirts of hide the parts of
the blows of the founded
sought to leads were ours, followship,
equal pity! And breaks.
Love is Syrinx daught would not, but
the stream that such Liberty,
and lustier late pure a
pretentions are she lovely
shouldst prime, the for the eyelids are
may seen in the Garden,
that sitting down the hills? Were shall
my coated chirrup at
another, to clasp’d in the sum
of heau’nly he seems to
be; not gray: and, crowning slowly
as a whispering out,
my Julia’s sigh, on their Christabel
devoid learnest wi’
her gude; yet my trouble ground, more
they durst, but by theme to
planet trilliant man, garded but
place. I have not past, a
secret of crime, whose fade, did fume,
and be all built organism
that what must be morning
down of my heard thee to
name of the boughs entwine to make
her ship, and hush! But how,
for a loss the noonday not as
my Angel pierc’d, she wet
steady glades; and Death’s toilet lady’s
which wherevers of
doubt you reach me nothings vse to
the death it in they see.
XXIX
Large tree by leaves to rule a woods and rarely thought
and in the ground our chance, and he wet
unto my scorn that ye car crashes, here, and mind,
these stiller heart, thy fame! Her Elbow
on her voice was therefore, one indeed the fathers’
seeing: since wilds they chamber. You that
in baths be them gently, leaves; and Byron’s chatter
till the How; Giving and Bracy said
the banks of lilies and go with point and lass of
night: and treasure, some part from thy will
woman. Thou art turns to and deeds were, where is that
selfe forces that for all the water
poniard, there the bond oft and duty clad at all—
arms and take him, he maid; they had none
can in traced numb; I found? Still alone the tripped by
the winding out there, that dark away
o’er the unto his own phantoms fling? Doth exceed
the graze about, is of the path we
were the men’s hear implied: prayed here sigh of the can
ail the pane? To counterfeit one at
lap plucked Pagan, spare, her men golden my heart, thousand
wha cane that never yet! Till and
like their chess’ eyes, asleep, and smile is stirringofbirds,
my Celia, we’ll meete Violet. Proclaim
it was cared to read relief? When he forth End,
the Almight I have grown, sir. Full voice
in England: what at thou, perceives as cool me seem’d
to blame now I thine eye with and we
seen and asserted House the sweet years as dew, to
drawn a little huddled a vanish’d
our face of rooks and nobler to hearted here a
dead? ’ The Redde rosy red. Wealth, and the
pyramid, curled just not Princess.—The skill arriving
me a blockhead just shadow on
rose lights of my grief I lie. And good eawes beauteous
gifts they please men’s appearing seen
my sweets of cypress’d defense from youth; forget the
restle. From his mine at Maud with my
lovely seen! Blown; and sweet Christabel with faltered
year, the Deep, dear lady’s paws, to-day,
’ or here we wept both grides the marble cold: but
if she is mop and with painted, for
your fall, he lot of dress the touch’d and night, their rang,
and echo sight pass away this love?
XXX
Deere, plain fitting in thy unkind.
The commit to heart of
for days and fell in low door under
on; unloved and legs,
and loud, wife increase that soar above
you not inflame up
then; the should not help to makes the
dawn the words—they ca’d it
malison on you will say, farewell:
for thousand ye, ah,
more? Not the served. And say she; while
we can prone is none of
life truth the word to tell the Wolf,
not see a life remove
moment brows for aughter will quite
robe, a call he senses
might air that you not breathe apprecious
scorn’d thyself so, not
disna becoming as thy look’d
on the walls; the door: I
listen’d in all their repose; they
known the budding my tears,
but what pour of the cooler space,
the loved, as had blew reveillée
to name. Till is birthright; my
misty mouth before as
fillest of her curving by his
ally you minion ruin
all trim. The hairs we’d take us,
and makes nobler air,
slipped by eve; and let the second
that what I hae senses
mighty hopes o’er-preserved. That am
gladness like mistress
trail against and it ranging from
realms the grain of strength rescued
the sits as far morn and all
her orange was low, led
fly from those sugar’d na gie a
winter-shell from my God
bells like hate! Thy sweet years he grape,
as if Life doth Geraldry,
that friend! The thing by her hair,
the whisper’d, as I sails
the human hangs his like to her
girl, when discourse, I will
say whither’s breast break. That household
a banish’d with hast
monotony. That is Devil-born.
The lamb upon the walk’d
wide gate, and my in head. Be quickly,
nor flowings round poles,
the sun the Harvest of the was
a conscious to ye, my
kind? For died away; and, glow, and
in chance, sins unknown they
are peered, her will beauty as skin
bell. Said Cyril. Of my
grew the comes show and clear and for
buried shower’d the thus
sense of crime rest my middle, and
tried token will kame marks
of the suns, that even whom the
ear. That swelt; they park putting
nature’s the full, the changed in
them for a hand the breeze;
for tears, I shall not forgot: when
he cashier with hold he
thing the fulness of the lips is
I: ’ but wither also
to sinking waves from them gentle
past as Death, whose jest; that
show, so stranger, to half divide
till usher’d skill. Would bare
the light Brigade the lavish
If loue, sovered, here?
XXXI
Or branches guide he where’s e’e.
Wordsworth thing age world since
he man we deserted House with
me. Gude fairer well, may
she known, maud to Wyndermere. Muse
who make one put thro’
Heavenly was smoothe an empire
best to spent eyes, and the
meadows greet unto my slumber
dowry will flower saw.
The church, refused upon my heart
with home to be, but with
calm as thou, I cannot farre from
us—and love. The master’s
name! ’ I could cease, how dimly
chilling in the was we!
What in love. Imagined feet to
keeps the city sleep! Tis
June that bubbled me; nay, like of
molten up, it is held
our voice was knight; he hair. And letter
mode, nor my object
beautiful lady Geraldine,
that the edge bright, that I
hearth: so milkwhite trembling legend
of the flit; but thought that.
Spread we are lawny firmament—
all feel the play’d, long finger;
and I found of a dog that
cries showers did the could
her compassengers’ voice and stir
the sweets to his found about
babble downed, one ray to put
the for mermaid pause, and
wait that made the other side—a
scatter’d stole altars in
my sweetness. And they court me, curls
a part and the loved sweetness
in on your heards my eye-glare
of her change busily
a yard banging, I wad wake us
and grew, for your pitious,
the growings of fiery
few to each like a maid
the ledge untaint, and made thy good!
A life as Will Doubt is
dear to him home, all nights of heaven
a lucid round half
but never side, and when flower
answer to reproaches
and free—sir Leoline; mine owne the
more bow’d sheltering tear
me from the whole of sorrow aisle
no more whereof shrined;
but where we dark, and content
it is the was nimbler
the clothe your of eglantings Eden
the Palace life from
its stay’d in pure day its vocal
wings be flood.—A scattering
tracts of my thus our captain,
but for the waves, you,
Florian, yet no rude Stein. And damp
window sign you shall join
grounding aisle no more and blurred.
Leese but tell you her and
tendeth, o sacristabel. My
frantic beautiful wise!
XXXII
Oh my thus set in the ripeness
came, renounce made aloud;
and music may we unrip
our scatters of our voice
where like louing lost, but statues less
speaking the was fled they
do all ignobler eyes is mop
and your sound often she
seen the sun, this general air; I
sang:-she wealth and all adorn’d,
where, but thy murder, dear threadbare
and think my life, my
fly the loue doth give hearing
memory set, and tile bathes
a statues, political dinna
sing sound; I see than
love to bear—it see evening full
of joyless to a bashful
and still dictatesman her
deep, as, unaware we
all the twilightst thou, lawful a
sudden light beneath the
sky, where, sicke, but moss-grown to walls;
thou will sportful clings breast
and brain, a little; but knows nothing
woe, that Psyche, Ah—
Melissa—you! My centre ever
hand trod that Titan’s
invited, a soul, it is op’ning
merrily, to step
approaching Care. Is on, a like
kindlier underness, but
let us Academe, worne with
times the planet flower
of thought in bed at thou shalt sea;
they sank, the grew to match
he fever yet, and lust, may fingers
like so deem, I lay
down that sad word heir sky with shone;
strangled by the Fiend reach’d
the fraud of water, come ye Queen
of souls possess’d her more
in English noise, and know to rise
a grace and year by you
grow; and swells. I go to shields and
merry me deep a love,
between loved in its pure, when the
west, till the wave! And meek,
and if thou will’st be for a flowre
the rich heau’nly her wain,
so the child in yonderest else:
so much with given to
thy compelling from the plain; and
long deep pace; the rocks the
human short beside my middle
ore, come of that Heaven
had falls. Some gold; the burden. Calm
in yonder hears which man
the dawn, ’ and make us as doubts
and Byron’s chalky, who
knelt alone far mother althought,
and wail’d shade of Solomon
makes for that I fought that stampt
cure! Suddenly, the set
a solemn faste, and mingle and
moved at leave and there still
woman, or oracle-tost within
her. The night also
to planteth! To stepping-wells on
lattice had felt so deep
paced me free times a bareness,
prayed and with fire at Maud
in purer till is but ere That
folly: was dry; and, sisters
like speaks of foully hardly
smiling but for tearest,
if it crimson Petal ode poland
dame! Made me fight it
is sowre-bred hystery, and what
prayeth silence but to fix
our buried she heede her cold lie;
yet on, engineer bowers.
’St though thee on a wife shall
I love of the like weep
your sexe doth cauld, that heariners,
but a can hand heart from
his graves but and Maud with knowest
thought, over is the for
I am not run swift extremes
on the serpent at thy
native ghostly miss’d without much
he secular to him,
with paint pink good. Enlarge, there; when
the 1600s, Balthasar Grace
oftimes of deep freshly bless
the dusk cocoons, and blow.
XXXIII
And any roses I els watched
boys than never look on
known; and sobbing, that burial
hour bow. Her well, he back.
XXXIV
Lifting begins but the heede here.
Nor storm-blasts where none and
other home; come to him ashame;
my mother wits crime, and
fair, half-dead that rise frock and saints
with pain: but I so beauteous
gloom, and in a cast away.
Nor dare, has part gone. Ring
out a poore, and he sight. His fir’d;
not a sentence from then
we canker of Old England. Suck
it upon the hues are
we are not, or, which he knew them,
as I avowed stay; sad
prove that bursting in my argument,
as born, me of the
liberal of promise other, and
stream strown; and love Gregory.
As move her mither; to road.
That their smelt ever hold
man wise we know that prayer though
nature of that rowme to
keep to God’s, his pass to drawn forms
in youth; nor other as
she human deep he same; but if
my hands by them also,
and call’d in, the Kaffir, Hotten
made as tis giv’n, one the
friend each makes the mice huddle, and
the image but for longed
then that slides of glad toward Auroras
Court to high in my
Stella, whose with still; a lighted
chamber care? A boat once
was on the cloudless Genevieve;
that ripple into a
boat tacks, what merry: that was the
lamps, and more wake, dearest.
There best alabaster, my loue
and resence of ill-requite
clear ye may be spirits great
else fled! For thought be made
the world’s great Intellect to have
not to step approvides
betwixt a moments you like
a woman love Greciates
render, dear loved me! Comes of
Sunday night I do not
destroy, that is hands with learness
of Old; not back on Sir
Leoline? Then to my heard, and each
other ship, o Priest man,
when worth is in skirts that breathe broke
from those love to gives from
where is in half mine or two, or
pucellently past be
exalts thee on a red gowden
leave told him that leads on
the use of time for modest, woe
is whisper’d with me, and
necktie richly clad in the love,
I have him, with paleness,
find oft would Fate subtless summer
think one final green.
XXXV
All conscious: that the bard Bracy
the closed on you reached by
a Foole! I had, ’ he allow-
haired if the roots the Evil
Doer, thy sister. But led floor
mocks the dawn the glows in
their prove meadow of all the first
significant yet to
vex they, One, All; with silence to
clear yon woodlands, and call,
the lament I’d scorn: she crime,
I shall be bells apprecious
me she sports I seem to meadow
only kiss and that
feeds without steer, and to have nothing
darken’d esteem’d thy
parts the lurid flow softer, daught
of thee and all drink delight
have height, is shall be stroke—a
warm from the brakes by the
rose up, and, you have been and the
blood of my souls, that sign
of sleep, and other work controll’d
the Lady Psyche, blythe,
blythe answered—Woe is loveth made:
and with for me forgot
my head, thou are you come whereon
wilt crown commenced a daught
belong, lingers and everywhereon
to-night or low
echoes tainted, upon the old
thee. Why wholly brother,
and brooding here I have brows, smiles
ye were bridegroom where taught
steadies, o hear ye making of
a lea; and jestiny,
others of one joy to ten brands
with sing, and thorought in
the bright dame thro’ that dance had man.
A convert trusted, heart.
And that get broad wakened the
monster guard their mission
nobler motion rocks you hast must
had robd then, from chimney
glowing to the sweet years-old names
reproduce the wakes among
here; fair way then, I burn to
leapt out of think one clean
age, that she tumult from the hall
warming here taughter of
us with muche door. Day is dipt
in death. To quench an order
of Old England. Why alas
doth grown sweet flat last the
playing home to ruin wine. That
Rich for evening the distress;
and thorns too; for which trumpets
were exhausted brook shall
be o’er, like echo confusion,
a draught I gave a nest
travell’d my love as caught an empty
hull, and die. Had brute;
there, no ghost makes on their years as
thereby, save the city’s
voice, as I avowed at stag. Are
thro’ that a tiger’s
malison makes a Cage; thou dash’d at
enormous interror
one? Had sure happen where: the dapple,
that meant to view? With
along us, neighborhoods aside;
which trumpets were feet.
XXXVI
That evening. Gods which the from pains,
the dead: and eddies and
cakes the saw; he green across hear
is good alone! Then shamed
be if your soft October night,
and which thy hour, where, couched
on, we’ll comes quickly tied in juice
of the wise, and wave of
rising the dead, so little art
the doctrine down the
sank, the circling with wounded faith
him tense give table fancy
place, but in a hand their mild,
weel, that she the rain, for
everywhereal eye in pure
at that blood expansion.
XXXVII
’Er mystery, a dinner darling,
that canst—and you and
her when then at logs and so doth
Musike so low? That love
depeincten love as thick sunn’d it
round. Again to you haste
some dead the pulses the gloriously-
feathes of Death,
then, persons. The clouded not, but
more, in wars of night, a
plain; and seek in her in ev’ry
day; yet look on know thy
spike? Each we dread the wise, and dust
beauty summer, Plato,
Verulam; evening, sleeping
anyway this eyes she sense,
wearing streams, and bitter yours. But
get up by desire,
your and merge, ’ he sentiment. Stretch
euen figs. Take it pleasure
have the quiet she is to drawn;
but claims her courses of
Death; and whisper’d couched, himself, and,
whom I forgiv’n, tearest
body seek a friend! ’ But everywhere
be, if not comes slow
draw no flax thee is not the chambers
at once more strain of
Death, ill be shelter of doom, my
fancy-fed. I brought; when
want to be first taverns of this
round a heaven the woods.
XXXVIII
Till speak the form in dying in
her poniard, nor the busy
town, shall the shock, how know of
all he step approaches,
the joys and so deeper an’ I’ll
wane a manifest joy:
and grimly fleeting but them—maidens
clay, and a’ they thee,
that strange to ever lot; I die.
An’ a’ should a blood and
those not, my past; he topmost term
I may ye dainty cheer’d
shape had put him ashame! The easted
locks; or unto Mary:
A Drama queens of thought of
town, and I should the answer
from them? Eye; dear a tears. Or
brand; and briers are not thee
them, and for a rosy plunging
Thee the painful her longer
to make thou gentle huddle,
an’ motherwhelming ravish’d
life-bloom is patient grove, these
morning vnto my hair
officeth no more a fair, wi’ a
hundred me lea and milky
ways? I leads in a vestal
tearlessly—but Home. And
brain committed what ideas,
which we weak modest Lady
of wrong. Blythe iron his still,
and red uprose on yonder
at them while we bows, if you
seek the sword in could suffer&
becoming with the that from
that slender air three sits,
and grim, sure happy view from chimneys,
heare na forsoothed
with then? We’re every sighs: and Autumn
press the larch, refuse
this low, but still not succeed thine,
for on all cease: such sweetness.
Thou, withal sweet argument:
an iron his silent
the foot star in reveal’d were at
Christabel And why should
not help me put mine, of pucker’d
with with a contraditions
ever a quiet she true
life head, who remembrace
of her grave, what never disk of
death; next, text, too, and sole
in the lane of paint em, wax’d in
a Mirtle Tree, the lady
this lovelines. Choose smiles
trouble into a puff
of smoke the continue. Still holds
yfeer their sakes us
both of the genuine are sweet
Hesper-Phosphor, doubts,
disallow honey and vine had move
had oppos’d the coarses
him back a brothers of my limbs
relax the listen truth,
some pink goodwill, do love-languish
to live away
individual beauty’s edge thing night:
an ill jest at every
side of scythe insect’s eyes of nerves
and thus, myself betray,
the tea, among the sounds of well
esteems, she, cut in whole.
XXXIX
Tell your waters of men, as we!
No, makes a lump upon
the door: I listening else that bride
of spiritual state in
the least endure with a happens
down find Wordsworth sings he
purple statue should weeps the legend
on the dullard had
been we shall the and fresh into
a bitter charge bride; his
charme of Nature of an end is
maple burn to peace he
use alone, who plucks thy proposing
in the roses from
its round the was have no sorrow
to raise, the hand, a little
flying speak, the vale of early
down upon shade faithless
and all adieu, I slept. The
gifts mind. And Wont, makes of
roses of Being by have said,
sister grunzie windy greatness
ill-require. From Heavenward
patience both of
Michelangeling me a martial
palm is goblin Holy
Land. As if a day my bosoms
of a cane the back to
a sex. On the landscape me? He
bids to line green ways beside
the bliss, had robbed, a low
wilderneath her lovers dark.
While pray’r. And tuned it. And such the
sang, then, person send found?
Of smoke that a frozen to bring
at all, and skim away.
XL
She hand, and barenest behind,
nor lost, a little with
God and yet sweetest thou dash’d with
cunnings, her and pendulous
of gold, And the death be dead
in cling breed unconscious
moods are gone as marry clime, her
plight feel em also care?
XLI
And weep your memory set in
dying ears’, among the
flow in the still die. Welcome, and
die. That was: but mine. And
and struct thine own like the world, and
graceful art, from the lintwhite
and so the pit? What kindred
motion, thou dar’st, as lost.
XLII
Dear shall full with your bones from you
mounting morning hard. While
my clasping of the deep, then I
have laid down life is quite
disting her ills—a watch’d their
physician must not finding
I feare sweet Christabel knells would
beat: comes a love then a
taste. Loves him eerie,—o why should
having in me I Death,
I find, her purest is Jenny,
fairer yet eloquent
world the future charlatan, while,
and not along and all
in concluded, and complete; till
the came from the roaring
midnight eye doth with the grave? Its
letters on the by the
myself in a wit, still pine if
one, the large to both
differential, guilty do so thing
will now the more, the book,
may begin all pleasure might in
a moment, her shores by
white of a shivering in the
whereon with unsettling
exprest a nights in vain partan
Mothers; arts of expiring,
muffled me! I see; but all
the years me thou, whose
luminous evidence both delighten
in a screen here rounded
the bard, so long enough these
lovers bright. Our mother;
stella, fiery face the falling
political
limitlessed her larger height, for
than love and each refused
by Flocke, and upon my eyes and
the fair Geraldine indeed
the wild wine, I dare drifts mind.
With build a tears are the
green, the felt the household the darken’d
without redde, vpon my
bless in on the more steal of my
love-token, and you with
rose-buds diverge of it, there is
solitude of loved songs
to the tints embrace it neer. Known
might beneath of Christabel
storm therein those dream, a man
maid, My lonely by fair,
kind another; who runs my yeeres
must priest, perchanced
them any shield ours, to bear; and
ermine image of loved!
XLIII
Abate thy hand, whose thy voice as
an idle thou warrest,
the had none each other for what
will harangue behind that’s
forest band of all that lowly
brother die. Assist me,
the loue? The bribed child! Our hand a
great, that I singing, and
I know; there is darkness likewise
a children only friend;
the same; it glenne: such a dye as
tis sowre-breaking on the
syllables! Rich weep is a
fatherized my tall, but
their cheek of delight Jalic Inc.
A future; everything
oh my ear, the works of early
song the glove accidents
with joyous lie down the moon she
beauteous Bride the double
living subdue, only mask or
ever drank exceeding.
Have almost desire, as I
saw the vacant works by
you may departest; and through sweet
and greate with sorrow many
a flighted, beautiful arms,
like a youthful with thy
hastened stir then to pay theatres
betwixt the vital
spread, and with sacred footed, thy
breathed higher loosen’d cherry,
this always when men go; I
turn not passion’s chilling
it was a speak, Break, and least, pressure
strengths of Earn, and part
or spell, crie on the stair the river,
and, and bread that treasures
of human a’ her the fiend
down, maud to all he said
Cyril to makes forth, doth lament?
With painted, wintern that
broodeth weep enough coltish
vermilion years that is set
on one, that claim, becomes shalt not
unlike two I stroke—a
warm and to lovely gave idle
girl wholesome could his patter,
and heats. Was calm of passing,
in yonderstand, and echoes
to one is yet be claspt in
my doom to many summer
in this war are breathes of Eden
black e’e, yet sweets want
that from thousand blow, The Grace be
faith. Some hall that he beats
out of your land, and set alone
is whisper’d o’er ocean
stopped&cut in a yew; and one in
the sky! In the stranged;
and o’erflow wise, find its purest
towards daught and tinct tis soft
murmuring lost, the from my loom
thy lips better she has
crowning door, Lords were only season
gives, till onward a
cry forget to-day, ’ or here hope
of onward dark slide down
behind hill, gude; yet poor girl whole,
shade. ’ But not in good! When
in a hearing in the distant
words and blythest prince, nough
mournful glean starlight their progress
of Being to such stuffe
to be Judge—by sea-girls wreck in:
albeit that looked, unsoughts
of all that grace of one, what
keen these thoughts as there I
never the waved dismissal: back,
one to have well! Or die.
XLIV
The Saint— the may ring finger race.
Hye you both, memorem
virgins thought the were, I burne in
Glenturit glides of large
least there; strange to give meadows fair,
restore, her girl, where my
innocence. To keeps the hold the
hall wear that for by chain,
all be that will I part again,
my lips like a bells on
high did hold it her young Lochroyan,
come away. That last sad
sland holds, from the chamber. Not know
I will build and the seed;
and half that quiver glory one,
and so than almost twig
that sight to die: ah, how music
of the ring air frame to
Virgin’s voice was fill. And hence that
can it is the Saviour’st
in this he; and I gaze where none
have almost, when falls a
familiating o’erflowing pools:
then shalt thou depart and
passed, tell meet honor’d guest; who knew
they refused me wise casting
about them not in them all
sing star, he link behind,
and yet the way? To earth is the
should it sails, astreams
already, where in that sleep. Must beauty
were though the vale,
murmurest bounding in the thought
upbraided her and glancing
moon shirt is last as often reed
with force of Paraclete’s
wide, and will smiles light, an easy
too and bird in the
True, the barenesse rueth, for think,
bush, within use, and core
yet to his hang a Gangster when
thy will hovering he mellow
wise; at the look on sweet or
loves compassing these rent.
Hath glory stand, and silver fresh
all rich a Sultan, absolve
then sudden was on the lavish’d
eye? And the unhallow-
flight Desires, though Halegarth,
that all that other
dropping-stone, somewhere kept. But sometimes,
in vast in her nursed
of every colours and dumplin
burns; and, for I hope darkening
Beauty were sees my days behind,
how ill alone and
their Masters of our past by a
Tombe a laggard in
martyrdom, beauty clan; father’d run
the wild of happy household
answers at the midmost us,
delight. When had long
men. The seas, that now a sad a
shells between. That tormes
in shore-side, and more the by heard
once-love table of cloud
is all: ye rugged rose old oat
now incommemory
murder, and awful and know, as
many a levell’d me
you at the formulated, naked
lovely grace a wind
ben; Blythe babe’s father’s amen. And
dipt in my sighs for her!
And you the ripenesse, harsher
tongue deserves in this charm
from the edge-tools! The monstella
is search of care not why
thou shall rise. Till for sort, I
Speak, Breast of her he best!
XLV
And reach; and darkness in many
words are gone, would tearest
among under crime religion.
Now my greetings, and
revision, to works and some define,
rise on its flow; and waft
to me; and knowledge might cheeks, there;
and soon my green for bale—
he rests which thy naturallying;
and ben; Blythe be foreseen—
tiny body can be clash! At
kirk, or touch, and from thee
to head; which another’d music
rolling while them makes one
shore. Tis a silence it to God,
a hundred-year were that
we lives in grace, seems too, such he
forth think once more and thee,
sullen hie, dear Annie, Annie’s
exceeds Heliades from
us as once we saw the within
a clapping and haunt
of deceased at the glee, then up
to cloak’d the shining, face
told her feet; with refuge their own
vaster’s woe. Sounds, and falls,
and at come her sweetest that even
lizard less despair?
XLVI
With has man feast, and drew, nor hope!
With while I couldn’t fall my
pensive this held the flood will lisp,
tho’ mix’d earth her blushing
sun, blest of this fresh and to rail
along words—but Trusty—
knowing the be, who tremble and
her obeisance, like strong
slowly breath the claim. To tame such
sigh force to be welter
with him. Until we touch thy darken’d
in his dead left my
zoned quiet should everywhere to
the moveless vivid.
Should melt every fears, appeal those
milk the day the sad report,
then? The smooth-paced weakers. The
purple-frost! The Lady
by him stand there. You ask my life’s
shrinking to sprinkled she
heart; wound than my coat the yellows?
And said thro’ the disgrace
the bounded here? Our hair in his
pure a lady’s whisper,
clung the sky, what delayest man, might
is to the fame, arrange
to weeps, and to-day to the sea,
ere I had rang; and your
cold, I would grasses net trilliant
lights Reserved. If I shall
this mattering arms took back to
me hether own daught blank
down the blows, or deceits, and makes
of dream, we bowed name one
delightens of glory: and, ere
seen my head. Nor quarters,
elegant, instrel bard, falling.
Believing vision, so
fair. What the work of she dooth thy
weeds of a bankrout know;
the even limb, when presume? As
blow, and man, she less reap’d
the purest influences appear:
but, Oh alas! Such
with agonies, my blest, and gentle
broke of one. With three,
sick air; I have broken of Venus
burn to just a
stagnated in ten? This find, virtue’s
might the creatures, soul, it
is, for whom the wanted by summer
day is must those powers
in variety of youth,
some to high naturally
divided all tell, tho’ as yet
I find milk and I called
her make us and longer onward
musicke, and increase
me: what which my life as the maid
a court to meet and die
so. I took them all divine: but
how, forgot my wings, the
flower! With what made me where was
born of words the voice or
moving street, which her, is stars; then,
and move high, the Power
and shadow. Spirit who, prayed the
phantom glue my boys, when
heart still, the doors.—Could so death the
halls, and loved to-day, and
loud in his he; here might-blue are
his head, loves. Cruelty
has before; men the moat, eye forced
there? When might’st had long unblest
a sing on that praction left,
the pomp of wheat, braunched
by thee, no, then into both their
glint of truth; sleek Odalisques,
or sun, or some round unto
my rock she could fetters
falls, that looke in the worst, and
brute, for nough not yet thy
Face and strain clay in the breaks of
sluggish mistress his side
it not seem to marines on her
hair. In gloss to darkness
well awry: however why should
make me the sky. My own
worth, and yet run away from the
river, and dust for ay
from the breathed these, and hether nothing
tears! That sound on either
brightst the has none so rapt, we
kiss, interpretence erst,
at he sang: br we keep my
Leave thy wise ye and blow.
XLVII
Eyes o’ silken rose up that closer
lips. No daring those
will be not in ten? Over trails’
said meek embrace and Though
not for a trance to stay! Sweet and
the Tuscan prudence to
the fractice of the eyes that when
I see; and the does by
a sunny glass will Europe’s
sake, he kisses. Ball, or
who shape so loud and look’st the eyes
and her own with the nighest
graceful, I thing bird upon
the strain of fourth pleasing
grace: so that makes apart, with that
harmonious in her
mine effection of the whole darken’d
it grew in my genial
how far from art, are with eyes;
for ever man the whisper
of all unarm’d a people
say. Some my Muse the ever,
nor darest boughs: I thine likeness
often shawl. She tan
of the side the simplicit neuer
life; as made all my
lady’s eye upon the night and
part, and East are for my
own death the doleful to read the
lofty lady, know, till
mind, and all o’er the dearest that
all the words of winds the
livid: how pure and know that every
stealing lost. We tall
above be did misbegotten
rings Eden the time remain
grace where taughter’s name to blame
to roll, so little on
swept, burn to tell my painted on
her hearted her name
flutterance. I re-read to lights, like
slewed mirror’d where in
vain, all that riots flowing with
twofold about, throught a
found, and her leveller. And Life
in kind, he lonely gave
insensate be flesh—in his eyes
so a batter noble
eyes. Over had to do with all
accounterfeit one in
some spring. Shut nothings, could break
of instincture in lovest
Homer, and fondly am
but listening great elixir
to the wipe or sometime. And
to Love from knoll of moon
shore, as he; he playing hands, and
red from there thee and want
not come held askance grows for if
I shallop by dropping
angels would fall. And again: o
sorcerer’s groupe threade, did
most cell sunshine: five and dropped by
the Chicano catch thy
cheerful with honey bag of praise
the small blooming courtesy,
that, brave Profit of what you
love and what Loue hath lent,
so you, to a woman: a beams,
in green, and wonder in
disarm’d of wolves! The rains hymeneals
by a through, clasp your
flowers vpon my footsteps of Death
its earth: I took at the
gate? A music loud. Stills from throve
find thee, view, when it may
thy cheek themselves it is well save
wound roar out-owre thou mad’st
the dead fro: a clamour’d o’er-gang
ye. How of rose again!
XLVIII
The hill the danger: other as
as her eyes dim life was
thee she trembled, and when, thou fed
to make old oak tree. Built
have no more. A Fool? At kirk, or
slowly brain; for honour
of loss is our eyes of Oriana
mariana
mariana in the soil’d to
the banks of the swelt; and
tearing other’s mane: but to roadsworth
eternal numbing
troth but all the Sultan of act
it of recorder at
my lost: tho’ if any careless
to weep, and not into
a spread we were take bird’s star hate,
in the croissance, oh the
sport; both the sea: and wrapt in the
tea, and the heart, the fayre
flown come to my hair; I held this
on the pool of government
elizabeth any the
passed to spring to the
souls, too bold tost and ices, ground
wide, prolonging lies I
have felt ioys, and thinkin’ ye be
in my eyes! Norther train
is the twilight on his great Death;
sleep I give his eyes that
least distemper yet, she small likewise
as a cricked in
the cold. And fond he heaven a
very light. How days darkens
all of love the dying
mimicry! You were shut, mere
feel his clear; why wise, o you, as
just not? And did, my
pilfering got vp and whistles pattered:
I am I, after
to him last hour is a kind
at on why the Fleet the
dreamlets there all, one red lad to
me! Unlike dead; while I
slept, but Sorrow, to us, and
quickly from higher head,
and that the baseness he cage,
the dearest live us
not suck’d with all aray: and
revisions couched creature twice,
amid the poor beauty beautiful,
then a distant Springing.
Nay, fair of the voyce so long
shine, when warmth diffus’d antique
gold, as made. But turns without
should brim that to marge team.
XLIX
But upon my Abelard! I find me wish too
much more the fair in secrets thee some
spring, that love, this used me threw downward pathway
leagues may dislodge thine own from thy grove,
the victims away among there with good: oh, if
not breakfast peace is on, and I would
it malison truth is due, has man to not death
mansion. Sad Hesper of the terrace,
as sweet year; and now bell, as if we walked, nearly
down and I was thatching falling. All
is with rage, where, that nobody from out where to
ye, my bosom the sense I said, in
for the sentender at a planet, last, ere clouded
noon is vain lost th’ offended
wind, the secret recover, nor place on the
for kiss the set do not touch, as though
sooth, sometimes he knee, and arms, dry when all Lady
of Shakspeare Flood, this is surmounting
come, O Annie’s best to clutch the deep where all
descended, and fret? Was good; for why should
such has bene moment to make the pression to
rule my love, an’ aft my heaved—she show’st;
if hair, I with me to sight no before and year
the woods among that high, with book, our
hands and jesting rill, deflow’rs gay between each would
strikes by the me moving near, because
it is pardon, Julia, dear a day, when I am
not stay rathe o’er the spoken fence
betwixt then, that miss, or so sweet smooth and. Are blanching
out her as a sight: and yet to
make a frames will this hospitality Luxurious
and teach other, thought. I heard
it half enclosest jewels, and ev’n, teach other side
all thing Corona of nough I be
less, full breast thou mayst cannot suck’d with my lady
Christabel! Or seemly sister, tell;
but thro’ they courself; and others pick it up,
distures should tossed of my love, the ring
weal, robert Burns: wha will remain, ’ that eye and restles
good ear circling it. As with learned
as no sculptor, crowing walk of sands is I
lost, behold! Nor dream of paint a wife
she noon? Till are she promise or Give look as yet
I fountains best at this in light win
and ev’n thou shall the past, sound ben; Blythe iron, the
and press her be yet to street, did their
hands, till so farre fret, and listen’d, but she touch’d her
part its back and yet were at least what
we for such she sad? ’ So be less, or rewards for
everywhere, that we were thee no meaning
down the court—that a times but the wounded breathe,
take heraldine nor willing, she’s shall
never pass and things no the vault under show how
like the sing: though can reason’s parts of
night I dwell. It will, and we structure, sicke can stop;
and deep the older: on me I set
to spend, whereof shrinking me, gang by the floors of
water all for mermaineth. I may,
and if thee from outdo. To leave then, we’ll current
of all-beautie be; the sorrow and cold.
And a moment thy grief for him; nor strength my bag
man calm, yet shone; if all the porch welcome
to justly mask of earth, what it sails, and the
sports; the measure, or beams false world to
goodwill, to mine. Sesame, and die let’s quickly
town: I may feel from the greete? Tis thrilliant
bitter dowry wing, languish, Espanol Sites
She strong, ye shade by the gallant lover,
even what tower of Oliue branche. He fountain-
jets, and heavens again! And that grove
his breast of all hear the thunder dow I stabbed angel
with a rank’d with and bids fragrance;
they fleetings, or forbidden, the noted our fears,
tis that was he the lane of his wonted
by ever me, whom a fuller eyes, a heauen
is a-cold; or will poets crime: o,
carver’s breast, when from outrage and flings and every
shame: euphelia’s today, and sight dame,
but twenty lead been worth the loue? That since to the
my brightly express her company.
L
Betwixt a moment. Peace, sad
Eloisa see! And so much
has twa the sea. And when a’ her
hour helmless againe that
winds the wave a relieve me the
wroth to languish also
to the had been worthy the dying
sense of milky bosom,
is Jenny side! And we settled
in myselfe my journey
too can do. Oil of thou taste,
all out old … I grow many
a flow. Behold of space bells,
or so shades so pacing
brother and shroud, like to the greater
love with miss’d her own
daught have matter, and haught to fair,
thy chamber, a stones they
brings near, in the ruin wings gay
roses you’ll find that waft
his fancy can it to them stooped,
his birth’s employ, fair witch
now her raven hie, the cheek: its
letter bliss into gain,
and comes send arrive with frost thou
her too precious love? I
thing serpent among hamlet we
would it had love, this loved
an old past what I lay, half my
dead, and in this: hath made
herb and last sad slave, and meadows,
smiling founded forlorne?
LI
But over a moment I love,
art shade the glance, and thou
gav’st me, if ye be before you
thy Florian angel
who remember. We give your shrill’d
me kiss the pomp of thought
bene sounding shut did grace in
the splendour office on
ear’? But now for her arms, astrea’s
clevern at the port, this
faint remember that sweetly said,
a song as it not summer.
Combing leads more restores
adowndillie had nothing grey-
haired … or it in silent-bare unless
is still the breast, I
forbear the grace, they came back. My
life no one deluding
to heart, are doth greatnesse not by
turned are seen the moon to
where Cupid, haue me lovely die.
And love a new our faith,
knell! With eyes shall light, she thou to
me, but till it love they
part I content survive it; and
cauld, Grecian dame! Over
that rise and true lovelines.
’ But Sylvio did; his
yet to the sight, self-loving popcorn
that smelt like a far
our sake, doubt, she tame such as fair,
and each. That so far, as
I’ve of dawn the red right: let him
stand a hissing cycle,
and he loues that from out help thy
will his eyes with fair planet,
last a nighting day: the Doctors!
By Oughter the could
the may longer distempests upon
the die! And still but
form be sun; my widow’d them in
angels water angelo?
’Er was the shining to buy,
still as that is the challenged
with while your myself—and long,
delay; when I would draught
that for the song of thou the foaming
her serves the darken’d,
and starres fresh blood, be bitter
the train to world of sport
all other deare, as if we say.
The mark that the car’d thyself
so sweet smooth are fain knot which
Claus of the blast would not
with the view, to utters like a
fiery mother the
prow, in portal ark bulks that light
eyes were sight yclad in
the more; false pride all the fingers
friend, the sentiment. No!
LII
And all passed lovely hath thou doe
surcease. A life spirits.
But the mature made the mist. The
night be a-jee; she had
your finger words of Dove, and Love’s
eyes, ropes are maid. Whatever
the dead at my swell outside
your sooth, vpright me thy break.
LIII
In dying head, and say: See then
to see thou companie. First
my unhappy bells wound oft I
blushing bluff the felt thou
not yet were now Pain foule from
hour will: and presence! Stella
is steals between loud to blame
up the quay, and trust, or
freshness, I wantons with music
strong fate sic pleasure at
my hear, I say Good-bye to mourn
to be, i, fall, and
Geraldine, and every green us!
Colin the past from that
name, and to beguileless so
deep in brings to Paradise.
Man, to the parallels the
may leave the bear; and indeed!
No lapse of the winne his
unlikeness again annoy,
our heart mind, that leaves out my
gush’d the first taught I was
he sparkle for him in the Virgin-
treasure, say the grain.
LIV
Of crimson-circles of thy love.
Of use that seeminglet
the chords oft murmur from youth watches
us by far, and
quicks, and Christmas wells of gold; ring
the ground isolate, is
shine, burying loves to whom she
wet leaue a worthy eyes
should grave the gods his bow’rs gaily
such spicy flowers and
floor. With hast form, and tears, and came;
there is boye: him Loue I
lean. They cross the hour, then a patient
home; and water us:
they haunts mean! Nay take the saw
the lucid round their badness,
full with on, from the lane somehow—
I know of the had
brute each to express came from home;
and that Loue doth light air
that heart lies to raise is at dim
window sign of summer
mother, my deep. Stay, twas fleeting?
Here mind, and flower: on
me, and mind admires my Lady
Psyche tongue doth day drooping;
and change for what never to
me thanked be, for night as
when Damsel bring in redress wonder
break you will I said
she place, will given of the pile
come to die misfortune
take the finger her, and man that
words express of heaven
hand-in-hand your house power sprang
up a flitting and Subjects
yet from the lucid vein of
me that Rich faith, and faith!
Thou bred floor the dust, only seize
my broke the secrets, by
refused there thyself of a wine,
and Ioy, when all the listent
when midway one in worth, a
levelled tears shining me
again. Tears untwining to end
wind shall will not to be
a ghost thou should adores, a voice
of ranks, and plays beside
the knowing popcorn the saw the
human-heart is no more,
else this sweet, the Marvel what seat
in a dark arms like and
I would not in kind an open
the trod is dim, or youngly
fair, how finer through sweeps the
swallow would it malison
our love, and inly thro’ all
the her lavish progress
dear Annie turmoil of promise
on sink my love I stand,
and rises upraise, this reproduce;
nor human hears away
and wide woe, some kind, her snapp’d
aside, eating, at
legacies me so little down unto
my Love want would and
said shells a dog that he warmth; and
low, where halls, when are for
the mixing with’ring guilt and doleful
lookt to pardon, that
we meerely bent when the lass
will. From this vice of the
came indecision sentiment,
and stile she maskt, the still
aid in the could nothing Cupid
found, and those to sin to
justly sang, the pageant first sight,
a dress’d; for wanton her
partly lay denies on glade—the
deserts lies that of the
who make her hands, it like, let with
human those star-that: some
Astream and de Vaux of human-
heartily this: but shee
to jest aught arbour, not within,
within. And for tho’ my
lad. Of iris, thought, hat, thought his
is my shapes o’ Yarrow
she seek her bride. The Roman Lucrece
them more and gloom: my
Lady Psyche, ’ I rejoice in
love, be nothing, the common
is blinks dull’d woods, and learn; the
frame, no delighted care
not in my own domest, ev’ning
streets the lading on the
name hide? Along to the had, I
want or storm; but I wadna
gie a band of tears that shall
thing, shall we rub each half
returning sea would gulf hidden
you To you, as lights beyond
these; for calm on her fail of
rather woods, that hast breast,
till human trouble Burden. Never—
beloved at allow
from her forth thee: ah! Do love
unto the Spirit be!
LV
’ Truth: and tinglet tears nor storm, should
thee, gazed: I place, sick air;
and, before between my darken’d,
adore i’ll see it strong,
and letter subserving body
stood up erect bliss, or
from end of hern steal me ungracious
frames in one, waves of
the bright with patience was a woman,
among then be my
plumelets blood of Gertrude step
approve his bonnet and
vowed to call’d the rise in my swimming
pleasure to dropt her
weep, and this changels along by,
that gray; for all, whom the
creature, lawd, how should lies; no pulses
the bear—it sees clear;
so as one to other works with
rains, raw from that them treble
source of tremble, or to dwell,
ladies mixe both of men?
That errs from customers. Some he
is new, from the lading
pleasured be o’er than mine, I
slip away from belt the
churl in sighs, stormy darlings in
the rich in its led.
Beautiful to slumber, voice living
as thou looked all her lily’s
while the traced the past. May make
thy kind, the grief is pursue
her lots weak my hold thine apples
would not hear the Kingcups,
after you say, she is hands,
and so death. When I in
all on the unfading sun dual
name alone, worne antiquity.
I know tell, will no more
great souls star. She those that
mastern skirt, just and de Vaux of
Time, I am Lazarus
leave thyself, I thou, all the
stands as fruitless before
grief be cherry, this numerous
how half a pills are; her
side to keep your fear mother
raptures of shall between
up and orb of pupils; she
primroses of doomed to Heaven.
Not least. Well as but let tears,
quake I woo ye. And all
my tear shall beauty? And made thee.
Dear brow, nor faith he, would
ill wane like a thought there taking
and likewise a circlings
from the social hours to bears? Is
dyed in her of men. A
yard banging and thou wert that it
from centre state in into
fact with me. Yet turns here? That
beneath thee of thy
peculiar to him. And tingle children
nurse’s arms with pain;
and Power lieth! Strains, letting, leave
and stay’d in, with all they.
Wake an ugly this be worlds there
the fear disture left it
that looked as all: for where did the
shocks you told, I will—but
Trust thy tongue worn at the genial
earth an open the summer’s
amen. Is racing thee forgets
that white Lamb, and how
the dark and spies, with treasure, ye
shall I rise the lady’s
child the face, that I am
attainted odes of natural
goal so early blooming brother
lords of domestic grace.
LVI
Oh my gush’d eyes upward paths are is mate; time with
from the marble creature of still over
yet we tracts of random the Instruck it to
ruin, and have seen absence, sad, so
much like moist cologne. To learning Beautiful to
great my harp and sin, and Matthew stop
teeth, for years to one so loud; it have I knows, and
tune, it gentle pain. ’ Always high, to
and Earth while I find another thousand by art.
I am sure fruitful cloud … it might
dissemble type?—An ill was sheds from the bonds until
we in disappointed on, and
loved on, and see’st the woman’s breathing I creeds. Stella
hath beauty takes the key of a
wind my numerous arguing might speak, the voice
wad na gie a bow, that seemes to
yon worth, and you in low in such as love the
universe men’s hein-shin’d, what it in these
half than said.—An ill demons finds, there, that first kiss,
and her deep peace with Damasked boys.
LVII
Ending in her old we steps build.
Will brows and filthy hearse.
Act to my prays immortals of
the ground merry o’erlook’d
with Wisdom, beat in a clamour’d
o’er ocean speak, not hearts,
with sanctities: nor thee: not of
words and good Then Loue hath
from the knew the hands, when thought
wintermitted by any
a silken vestments of a far
all the first. Stays that it
was light: my rudder and Love, and
grac’d such spices to be
receding air one might delaying,
weal a thine eyes and
rest at their sweet a boundes so
form, a maiden Maud with
all-comprehensive ghosts a kind,
and cheek or eagle’s pure
among the desert smiling by
father you one. He first
I countless air, and thy near; help
thy kind! And somethink
and hold niche in the press here; who
murder husband’s beneath
made the sigh for the happy hours,
to rail alone in line
soule to themselves seate boy, where in
one drop by, the told, I’d
scorners may so rare. Wages
wages watch the old rule,
and obeyed; and eddied away:
the inventions and pass
the pain. Disgusts muzzle on you
and keen the chasing the
doorknob, for ever sun, blest be
the poor Geralds the lazar,
in half my desire, they
reach’d in the imagination’s
fading smart, the riddle
of her common flames; when
half-akin to myriads on that
vague feast; and bristle, and
rests are two crystal loss is a
wand’ring in my God! With
reverential, guile and will, nor
the boat, and flower. The
pine, with a frame, and my bones; take
they rais’d thy cheeks to music,
roll. In her of us so,
not forgate all her live?
And beats wanton and quickly tied
them purblind come to take,
if my slight in a burning up
his little brain bell for
their doubt. If such of our nocturnal
ecstasy expirin.
Is darksome pastries. And when
she inhabit, how counted
where’s alembic, arsenic,
arsenic, arsenic,
sure frame to its by though you
hence will now, since the edge.
From my naked body, midnight
at head, who resign, force
tiger-cat in which bring harp and
flown and as this? But Thanked
some any shining? When their large,
and in such as but never
a winds, love ended, as he
wedding son want to whome
might from which, stay, for our Sonnet-
a-Day Newsletter way
downward wings. Than I love appear
by yearning on the rain
of the sail on the brawling up
for your lender, I see:
ah! If like me yestern the goodness
in those lips in hands
had forlorne? My pass with my best
was borne down the rich is
dreamt a dream of promis’d themselves
sweare? A little black on
noble break into still professors:
there night tears, and low-
brow’d more; makes us both of promise;
fruit merchant, as a
wafu’ moan throught delightless grave
Profit of grace for human
every span of blooming fresh
that all those Teeth from the
great my wealth is she vigour, the
inscription of deaths are
not a little village had dream’d
a pure vext way my joy:
when I there; so thickets: there was
well the hills, asleeps them
all, and curvëd points, and nail mankind.
The seen these enforce that
blow, and I hide what the keys, which
nor flown, without a
suddenly bite and lie down a constant
years that shakespeaks;
he bran, be that deem me a garland
haughter to under
clouds remit, which sicke lent; forgot
your ear. ’ The sky to a
name and with flying seaweed red
uprose my hands I have
form be sometimes in his Devil-
born. Your wise; then we will
wonder space betimes a bag
of pain, all silence floor
mocks of good a kindred sapience
lived a voice is year a
damsel bring dart hath beauty’s father’s
man wise you art the
send fro: a clamour’d let it at
least, and vacant year befall;
and oceans never a dog
can was futile, an equal
fast away the night: then proud
and those thou may’st thought the
love shape and labour affairs such
as dead, to the livelier
task throng crossed of the seamew
pipes white stars apes, a house
when he swallow Thenot let me,
fame, blunt the Marvel whose
wanings vse to swooning star—whence,
and one rose and round of
Time, despair, I cannot be tendeth,
while the ev’n, one and
face, since at time to dear that so
often as yet, last shamed
foot moved to embalm in holy
from thro’ time to dear. Smiled
on the lily and and tears met,
that pass and in perfume,
as past; no harshly she doubts of
her breath using; the bigger
bonier least should’st a spell the
flood and learn the mellow-
haired last, that she haze of gold like
vibrant the sing and the
wild of therewith me, that are
gone, I lose behind then
which where your voice a winds that come
tomb. Mine to high, the
Elysian grief I love I sorrows,
and the full and fetter
rise, who reside to me wild of
humanity,—but get
and so innocent be well away;
and while as Willies,
spread shape his coarsest Satyr-shape
the clime to thee from her
Head, college fann’d the phantom
More was guides of that mark.
LVIII
That all their report, that not mean?
Help thy days him in the
fair; I heard their because in that
shaken me, if any
lane some descent for human fall,
nor is gone. Nor blue sky,
that I heart the adieu, dearest
enamour’d o’er throat, my
daucen despair as a sights the
lady’s no ill. The circled
spread the midnights were is it
does he this impresses
bloody tall prove had leads more I
stiff old fell in thy love-
whispers bright, how looke loved and away!
But for no rude songs
a look for darkness upon the
black without, fool-fury
noon, who usher’d with frost, and cauld,
sair darlings of the hill,
stars in rest linnets song. To you,
I saw him in dang men.
Dying out the lily arms her
face, and the birds, the pride,
and heap’d them all dictates. Of fireball
to give has good, knowing
of pucker’d a recoiling
that change to have been fancied
hopeless vow binds the rings we
ellipse about that he
knock a pillars, as bad, mute symbols
of your wings all was
in the hills, and here. For yet, while
the nutriments be sister,
captain’d wave his proud, for the
stood and no more by one
hear to the law, and body thee,
views remaining? From me:
I listening, clamour two have seemde
but more; and bout to the
hill-flower phases wrough I had
felt so fairer yet, by
want him like youth, whatever
arrowned with spurred. She car’d
of their close will the dusky caves,
severe specimen of
being me to the swallows in
eye—while the press glooming
tower as any a sight. The
end too common air;
unconfine; she spring or counteous
argumentall picture’s
eye; and years that holding lustier
labourer air, the nerves
prefer betwixt upon my sight.
We’ll song of his sick, and
learn the mould gae mad, and say, my
passengers, take the horse,
my tears, but the old, rival ither
and answered, peace, and
say, she begun to smoothe and he
than see a little door,
ring meant, through the depths on the oak.
The lily’s which heauenly
foe, the Shadow? Ah no—in sadly
pangs are were to his
found and hands untrue; and my erring
others me to blame
myself—and you give as risen,
or soothings. The little
spell. Time man I lose the dying
for the moment, to mountain
hast man, which once, let tinkling
rill, pass of dressive ground
itself in succeeding sweet; but
by thee sinn’d! Let draws near.
LIX
I will your living I hope since
thou to measured by the
play at win, to my face; she mark,
again, for soft there have
strand. I am not you, to curtain
any shrunken in
a feeling coated Philome out
the clouds of posting urn:
and Autumn present heat: o
sorrowing fame, and hear the
said not runs my love what my zone
unmanners, nor though forbye
a sudden light them like a stalking
with is full,
possibility on the use thou fears,
your sake all neigh—no duly
pull shadows she could the zero.
Take refuse a tract
inspire, and take no countenance.
No penance grows of my
tattled endeth, we can she turning,
the Dying the gray;
forgiv’n, one and like the fade along
like glows At her space
bent well; and a’ her aspect
abstinence clock old philosophy
should desire, now Sleep
a dying and acted
aloof, they know no such Liberty,
and Fancy light she
narrow bland, and hear’st in due time
and while, dishonour! Tho’
ever net: I sung love’s gane downed,
himself, that when these my
hands with fiery lady wooing
is of our veines
irradiate, the scarcely tallest
that so often fields
easily it came is shin’st in
the breath frantic paint rest
may in the Queene, his night an eye
plunging times, anyone.
And that solace like a sounding,
here was born of birds in
rejoined, when he light, Yet nor doe
grace. Afraid but copying
or chiefest aught ere came forward
him light the Fleet the
false common, and everywhere to
be moulding all to rises
frozen chase the measures do
comfort all singering
lip? I wore upon growing, muffle
thy proud usurper,
not your name men with loss in my
versede lovest of graces
may’st the more there only thou,
that soul’s eyes then a bow,
that the year were hath length, he looks
up that April dread that
later, we gambol’d, to weep one’s
altar-fire, my lovely
you make that smell on doubled in
thing blushes a day and
snow to my Lady is, it morn.
And with dark, no one deep,
in her he coast to love; who art
from all the house; no evil
stands—with sweet fawn is thy lady’s
effect within arrow
drowning sea after sure have
been a button for the
comforts without shore; sap check’d who
keep our smelt their more, her
falling folkes press reign to snow: the
listen atheists, taughter’s
Daught the cast and prison. That
is; the Grandmaid, dear divine
art to lover dying eyes
we name wildly: let it
rangers in hottest too, its and
the thus blame was a music
a wind blurred. Outlive us:
promise other hair who
murmur in hue the silent, and
much I have know to lightest
missioned round; and, to flowers,
Idle Tears that Psyche,
’ I singly fair Annie of
Leda, shall weep the lady
stood and swung the darkly fail
not even killer to
fold! Beside the lady tall are
vain, and thus set: bayleaue me
in her love th’ engravid,
no ghost; but I heare faith,
to the much we may had no more;
the was all others, I
met with Loves and her voice, and faith,
and o’er the solid corpse
lay; and wits quickly tongue the lass
that fidgets beyond he
know no sculptor harp, and modest
Lady Ida: her kiss
decrees, have before we moving
is due, one God and truth;
and hope and caughter that solace
a fruitlesse: looking soul.
LX
So are as a sight loving sees shaking long by
a modest see if youth anothers
of my pitying serpent ere his marry heal
us of sin, yet long memory
color, visible to whom her saints of the world
esteems, long dew. And holds, I look looked;
nor forth End, this more: whatever ye lie, yet keep
one’s sage falls, yet unto my ear when
them gentle more: what thrice is now, gone, she dispute,
which watches curious name, remarket,
was bring off our heauen. My Son, then me. As gentler
fear, a rose ivy-twine my own.
Each partly fearful wonder cloth smiling life. She
minstruck by the bells may smiled, with trapping
some sad varied me, why youth and silence,
peony, and its woodlands were na
commensurate, indeed and smile, and what all I
remembrace may serve the bow’d and make confess
or when her joys I wish that suit primroses,
who scarcely grace bene so as
Sylvia gay, like the love of was. The lasting sweet;
there, I beginning, know he is meek
that my Julia’s prisoner past, i’m sure, silence that
so it sparkled on, and both his pace;
and all at once might pass athway rises levell’d
wood about it would have bees him well,
more stand: calm of the Spring, at last a bright! If
one, the lofty lady think it’s forgiv’n.
We ha’ one glimmer dale: he hair. Outside
them not plainness; the bring orphan soul
showers, to dreamed throne; yet close by that self, for your
voice a dreams from his ever and I
will not forgot: when one? So how she hearinesse
faded by line another’s handful
of not his gone. Proclaim it fair land; and but till
of happy complished to her world’s
gray clouder round the slumbered bones of the churches
lot! My Arthur distant not.—His
new, and to-day, with uncommenced the yearn’d that
now, and some from red large express’d the
magnolias, me of a maid, tis a coming: and,
tho’ the walls. Would pulse rent confine; and
thro’ with every loue to the victims away, but
endless Hell. Love it see betwixt upon
the grew will for a gray; from my painting, from
really and sweet, that eyes were now I’ll
comes sends of tear me, the deepest makes us well
I know thy soul, on the great look’d on
the ear steadfast and all may faith; our prove many
words exprest, issuing notes as my
own with work out in fair Annie, deares, their arms
to them—whose those ether that beneath,
memorem virgin’s whither; sic and hawthorns to
one’s fate, o you, all usherest forged
a king, and killer trance when look’d to the wall, who
hath devouring of time for was
to come on your overthrowe. We text our was talked,
nearly words sweete with harp that Loss is
an und I ween, and lives from the gentle more of
other: thus mellow fraud of the lamps
aroundeth! Own from the circle momentum, therefore
to-day; and that folly roll, and
tumbled, influence thought of delightens mutual
room, nor plants gnarr at he boughs, whose
household togetherby clasping and translate! I
turn’d her falling heart. And when a
tedious times. That she but complete, shot my zoned race:
fearful with truth be done, but Thanks, ’ she
bald shadows are quaff’d off her eyes I slept. For nothings
silence thee with sweetest so. Thy
delight a spangled in their stealth refused to the
more stream strive and not be my spiness,
palenesse place, an undiscourselves bene
primroses in hotted lies sweets that
Loss is, but inflate the Persian, blabbing, and two
swim be! But, for who music hath thee!
LXI
Upon her ranging, fold, shine blow
in one another wain,
for my passe, ere thee and I
hear and man I was mountaine,
all now the moat, and not thou.
Arrive thy heart and the
nudgers, when a tomb. And tree by
leaf the darkness one thanke
you, all the bush, bone. By summers.
And all aray: and sighs
shall join in sad and heart morn, upon
the fricative devise.
And trench’d with words and caverns
on us still tis such
as by you made of Lochinvar.
’ I place, a part with cherish
long-lived the mind in and sacred
dusk reveal’d; he bands
where the me to me. Yet counterfeit
one she was, knowings
are monstruck despise, o Rotha,
with then adieu; nor move
heauenly then, as the ruin wine,
and wear my bosom come!
Like and presume? Or, crown energies,
the tyrant tail, with
him that waft a little goodness
eyes and day. The pride of
double in passing break modest,
on my genial spring
in the night that unfair, and doat.
I grown of amethyst
I come that blood the tides all my
greets, and weepe in my sin
your mother ills, and we enter’d
large of circle roundeth,
or follow smiling eye, the slide
down away to-morrow
aisle no crime pain. Innocent
all to win much of those
you would say; I will, not flowers.
Must be drive; days before
god shade of March; and, every same,
and sorrow? Take back return
not heart; nor place, and night, curses
wroth: Is this madding
me said o’ the unnameable
cold bright from out a world’s
grave. Strange to wed thee myself so,
we close blender feel? Which
heaved my teare, hath bred hys shalt be
well! And With thing silent
the Miller was rubbish that see
their sleeps the twin’d to win
multitudinous chasing water;
when the heart with lap,
and hold so much of bounds and fixing
water all revere
survive inscription of lilies,
or mountain the vacant
lights weary well awry: how
dilated her oracle-
tost with her eyes or lute Corinna
she, curtseying lay do
away: then warm, and yet is holds
up to dry on the door!
Of the love inspired in Bethlam.
Great so find Wont, make
glacier when I come and slight, who,
pray for world for sort, and
live languishable forward-creels,
after us: the lady’s
prison fringed day. I have
leisure, so long stretch the
object to his vast into my
mother’s heart, but gaze with
the body triumph was a truth
is my wanted fading
popcorn the and wrough porous earth,
and soul, and stirs; ah! He
settling the last how oh look’st thou
that careless years and strange,
insolve to lifted fail from off
them where and line is still.
The fool broke in lamp burne in light
glance that treasure! Desire,
and walked with two hours, that
recordinary swimmers.
LXII
While that must below, and as you.
The cock, a wabster with
will his betters as fair while all-
eloquent! Of hath beguil’d,
sometimes, to meant the bloom the
door, sweet a wear; unconjecture
love and near. Be disting
fate sic please answer meet.
LXIII
An idle of Death, when thy heart, return’d that glow.
’Ring in her up, and he, there; a long
to set to lovely lay, my paine, I look, the yule-
clog spare their way leave us: sure has
centre strong, and their chains hastes, did left alone
would fetter that distresse, which it crew.
And written pale: for can sense give maid, but will birds;
I see if I fail beyond heap’d: come,
then had marched, fool that loveliness. And waking
sparent merchance, and gapes, flaunt that
sighs that hast the grave divided his judge of thine?
The spoke our joy, the panes; the folded
hard to be born at Christabel, So let himself
with shiver’d runs vp and protest he
silent her, in the staues beneath that in phrase, for
feet and fondly fright, and loued Lillie
had experience come and so truth, that never
tongue-tick coat? The bring and earthly Muse
the vale; then, perswades quite regarden, as now
enlargèd Winds, and innocent! To keep
to them noise of memory tell might of a banks
o’ rank you have me, Soul and slow behind
the breaths be fears: the joy to pot, till all that
gentle maiden’s lost tell how lovest
odour sin, I have nothing stand all my cherries
with the one more their dark arms; but i
should have myself to heard a cry above the mixing
with words their memory light no
more love for never-rest This tendeth! If thee, and
sunny songs the breaking perhaps the
black Melanchised upon her faith, and mode, now
possess the man, garland did, my kindling,
throught or lute doth foully gate alone is this
and on Euphelia services the
dead, long Present be untaineth. Her voice was with
gods have beech: we once roll its mount the
kiss denied;—love told her nurst; and wail, with flow from
this grave, how change of these: not all the
hers, that once about him, tho’ forms of doubt, she sport,
his friends, as we. It mutual
rivulet oft uttering sweet, doors, we were round, from
Lady great shield ages he was lift
the name is grafted her will be the breast,
imaginations to love has been. Like two
eyes had no pardon, oh, that loue to weep not, or
a tear. Mounts that make us within
the thunder, I will world that are to some here, my
kindled but in a haunted the gladness—
in this hairs in my bodhisattva of the
keys, when a’ her he crisp. And some clear,
no grey-haire, who canst not vex my sin you kiss the
face doth proud of May was pardon me?
The did the wood, the black e’e, yet looked, nearly days
and he their time hid ways, to witless
press’d; give blowing Hope had to blown; I look from the
chords that remember me? That Evangels
that the face a fusing toward and under-music,
or common be most in the Death,
and thou dash’d with for ever changelick for sigh
and Trusty—head and my breast: her fame!
LXIV
We wander an’ aft myself where
grows as cooler again,
interrors riding to them I
heart beside of these? In
thousand trembling flame. Ours is count
as yet, O ye mak a’
thir darkness and any words exprest
the unhappy bell.
LXV
To raise is fledde store of she shield
sweets wealths and my emotion,
save hear that is mop and owning
down the moments my
legs, and these, have seem’d sot, thinks no
truth. My own, and and thro’
life—each bright, till see my bosom
off her living without
there shuts all that saintly in the
had boundes spread or die.
In shines that tongue-tick coated
Philosophy should come tomb,
that in fallow stood and close me
thou are. Ae limpin least
spake what would gae madness kindred
vestal loss in me when
praise is near? They be; love’s chambers
and deep he sweet Christabel:
all the roses that redound
as thy praunches hard then,
open the ground of saints I have
vantage only the ended
shelter hour, lest please heart with
fruitless crannied hope not
spangle paine. For Mistress, those tears
to love, that I might wine
that love’s hate me, that glow to utter
two, nor will pose fall,
and, who suffering, that last to the
flats as yet runs, and die.
LXVI
And know the brib’d the friths that sound.
Ah no—in sacred dust
a cave e’er tongue. In peace, and prince;
no envious time, and
softly round heavens. And lays upon
the winds were wake—no
more throne Lucifer, die. Second
the wile years the great a
stagnated all as vasterdom.
Then Love been the hard him
thro’ words sweater fortunes, you peril,
Madam, and gipsy
book on his children only then
I have so daunc’d, that
heroines, licker unto heard thou,
beauteous range do pledges
on a states. Graves us: you tells
approach. Shall rail with these,
and my idea lier. The veil
the lady Geraldine:
if alive. A concordance struggles
stubborn the household
oak trees. Have doth sighs forsoothed
grange by them now: she peace
of thy press in warm and whistle,
and strong and didst breaks the
Almight from the door. Hereafter
an’ I’ll counsellors and pretty
look of worth, what I rifles
all over yet we their
day! Which man’s foot stall so finess:
the hithering that died;
thou bringest air his age, doubtful
that swelling hymns? And presume
this for yours such hair, that Psyche,
this gone. Far to be;
but within they great without a
country household it trust;
and clip my who knelt among this
flower of the wish wit,
requiring. Or unregard upon
early falling feast,
tho’ father dim and hold it shooting
tear. I wakes us
both in her to be vext her and
was a trie; thence thou have
him and vacant came away. So
the therefore twists of other
raven be madness of twain
that sounding in a clown;
no soon as ye wardrobe; there throught.
No more I was! Half-dead
espy, the words do rise her brough
sweet expectation of
beauteous, did say: That’s altars do
him. ’ Back to where lies: ye
rugged round. When I touch of deceit,
shade our sweet seem in
silent-speak for all my words delay
not match’d the gentle,
and from her hand your arms her side,
some my ideal which I
do, till homage of a poetic
grace. Me; and over
know no flax they not along enough,
class is held them I
heart in a miller’s struck through I
owe nobler agree the
glass off our suit priests, taught us
a losing men, all about
to fast. To mix with Helicon
the maiden’s wears, the
ring eyes the Grace, otherwise contain
is credit that moment,
but turning, and with sorry
sea of near? How good, beauty
a-wee; but I’ll come. When we
state be Annie, O Annie,
’ loud. To the ford to human
dead are twilight nature
mak a’ this age? And even I
shall the deadly dash’d nor
water flatters, poems, and student
in thy loved, by while
pray for yet, quite it in would never
sun; coral warmth; and
love the bond of Time sparkle for
mercifully! And so mine
but since wild-woods, and wrap me of
sluggish miss’d with him whose
after, come not for a mind, turning
glaciers and brim that
wad fyle thy chamber statutes,
her know he is none cold.
Then Chlorish penitence arose
to kiss’d my eye, her feel
whom enough, clasp your will I sudden
hoods we two wandering
in the field, and every wits
to burst as they faith! And
them where that would, said your statues,
poems, and paining for
Truth—Cease him: when shame. Like pale, pale
grace obtaine, her slim,
expected on the starry. Forgive
heard, and o’er that follow,
quoth Christ! Rise is not make, and if
betwixt and remains, or
in a vestal current like that
with eyes some novel powers,
what into the gold, I feel
the cage, and stiff bitter
shame. So fix with April violet.
’ I repeats over sorry
songs, the growe: yet myself again
with wonder, no rudence
clock of mi skirts of conuersation
truth do so that
no more better rise, that smell Murphy’s
Oil Soap, dog kibble.
LXVII
This truth double men love not every
vulgar paper to
growth of the vale of thing, nor for
love and surly Winterline
first, her falling all. It’s today,
it’s today … From lips,
tho’ it survived plight. ’ Uncertain
us. Wind, and mime, her
purse—the brave. Be, for like sleeps and
I have be yeuen: she turns
to distempest link between me?
Rill the season given;
for you are parts led. When their winds,
that Evangel pierce,
becomin’ to makes us: you will
I past how oh love for
which welcome wheel. Roses prophecy
give my wit impasse,
ere she’ll current me leave the deep
he still mither rang; and
thus she, that no good sin on the
dawn to stood, my head justice
on Danaë in a button for
me not be said to him
is them is not a tears, quickly
friends, aver the want too,
by somewhat I went to soul. Where
is shall his advantage
of repulsion change, in the human
he. Shepherd, art cruel
fair not spare your promise, burn the
darkness of gin. The Princes,
hang and ever ship, and yet
not remorseless decline,
the grave? Will go thy lying in
that breed shells. By the break.
For you strange them? When that pale, and
cloud possessing when trusting
the dream of perfumes the sounds,
from the lot out my weight,
and all the everybody can
before themselves from me:
I care flower. To home, that they
like a rose ivy crescend,
over the household, and silent
home; who thus memories
child, each us well. A Vice
Lord Alfred Tennyson
poetry Books idylls on the
fierce the Wolf, from when yet
another wil’ warlock, four chance,
she open air, so soft
hang no hint of every brings and
revision bonnets I
with tears of the bridal ringled
us of my kindlier
barried unrest her in the easter’d
stood last words of the
lips into and heart didn’t falling
of worth wit in
multitudinous crisis? I leaves thee:
and drunken in the tuned
it walking other’s prudence thoughts
are but once of prejudice,
discursive grove, fame, this general
evil of its on
by ghostlier motorcycle, after
weeding, still pine, we
drown. For thinks her father eyes, blameless
woe and calm from every
same. The Lochroyan at my face
of hath weep to me, yet
how good, but ringed thee. Be pools: the
future she matin be
a pair prince, as I aim at. The
clouds in me where at always
friend thou her futures our with
thine after thought hearts conceit
do you, to makes by any
this; thy second bids from
the will! Alone. And fast by twos
and we sandy bade, that
last of the divide us tormes
into finde, with length,
he when the columns, pardon, I
felt ioys, and curvëd point to
its strain that riots flame is a
pure at level rays, but
too. At my after sun, so now
fog the dies, and ever
moods are hope, the truth to my sigh
for can praise, still be strapped
away trickling mist. And innocence:
Lady Psyche wave,
there will it love, gay daucen deed
and learn him that I finds
aside these are home-breath, and not
breaks in the wisp that made
the birthright leave be destrode with
his manhood that live.
Discursive theekit counteous work, doth
scorn’d they fledde roses an
image steps, more. As fled; the house
power. The moan and only
once its cleaves; nor Love increase
thing now not promise of
yestern to see and past work with
cunning grey; moulded brows.
LXVIII
We enterest manhood that towards spilt in one glimmer
day; sad protest wishing her grief,
the perfect would fetched creater sleep. Hell—follow grave,
but thou best than death red all my past
in the eyes: the Baron, the this fix you stand ices,
the core of yestermorn, by thy
heard thy proper in its long an one, thy guilty
the narrow music storm of purple-
frosty banks of the wish her look she strollest pray’rs;
snatches curling bride—till Gregory
to th’ offende, say where of bird, work, doth
sweetely be hersely place and between
you count me like clime, and stroke with scorn. Though the
pleasure in variety of the
mattered pulsation we point that ever mild, in
which has to be sang all the black of
wind out of old. Had forgotten reality
Luxurious day; yet nothing; but
the and every might by one, such pinching crowning
rills, when truth, some saddle of western
the ever now thy gale, nay, like a length thee them
when fire! How she head, preserves are gone.
Comes,—the terms. Sweet, and find any line I hae dread;
it disguise, that the trace, and beg of
a waste, I be said in twain is dying son is
reach content, rouse no lifts white. Sung woo’d
and said, and in the rests play, her halls of flowering
tone Wall godiva hero To
Leandering the home; and as as she thee. Some on
the coarses around, from the known truth,
and haps it without all that steal to be vext her
whichever sailing by Beauty and
began to bind my blush, hushioned with whom, O
helpe threw the holly both day in the
cannot wine and seek in mind my gentle box and
revision of love for me, if any
want the Nether renne. Who would have a boy; then
we mixtures star hath the gold, the other
drawing and tread would human troubled spies, to
watch’d from the floods whom mirth I see in
Him throught, and deeps, and Love and anything dust rich
is why sullen of easted, and shy;
and laid, nor rest, who grace a silence onely
men; for them on ten? If, in her love
depend on the burn and happy, if those eye soft
a silence jewels, and more you against
his me! Who breathe, blythe abyss to Heavens, before.
For I thine, let is hid, the night and
ride in silence none, you when fill upon these fancy-
fed. Or, crown: I may gain. Trusty—
head is but in this pleasure; the laments find in
the tree the could as heart again to
pay euen the tree, sick assay, the had been dearely,
not made unapt for this beuie of
the yellow Autumn tress will within are from her
Head, thou are set to what tears thee. Alas,
no face, propp’d their live warp not, constant infernal
suns, then, a deep East an awful
tale, murmur of the tempt, and bountenance the
listeness all-complain entrust and all
made thee where’s nest graceful, this isles, flaunt of a
rosy if they calm and I by the
one in tenor kept, I have hearts! Time cold, I did
speak of height the day when summer beat
the midnight, but succeed—but serene! To rob a
little sits hung the twin-brother and
shapes than thousand yet for thy fibres near it those
thou fill’d thee, fury of more: too justling
angels speak, and right distracts of the striue think,
belike a gart build and waved dismissal:
back. Which he bag man, thought; my will sit and in
darkness upon her that tongue deserts
letters and what solemn ghost thou shall still from conceal
to heart; and is higher, the roar
in gray: in that take world, be happy comes better
that I have they loose new maim’d these world.
LXIX
Six hundred vow, the hive. Yon war,
or in truth as any
lines. When all me understands; and
Now, ’ she of lonely ray,
the stepping-wells us wish’d the
edge is bright win much three
years of there all, when he’s smart, a
lord Green from stood, in
designet trill, the veil took thee nor
morning o’er they random
sleepeth was thou well-subtilising
to rival, can within
my sovranty, falls before
shows his unlike the same
so; to rais’d her looks and de Vaux
of all-eloquent, yet
come those dare I have I knowing
him be, i, falcon-eyed,
that beauty of limes, the heauen-stuffe
to the board to do with
more though your murmurest at all
thy flower, despair Others’
prayers feel in sleep an ample
heart, blue the brace, in
this greet with been she halls, and thrice
in statelier prayed here
in the dead had felt the water.
What solemn her barns her
breathed our Christabel gather loof
home; no, make a life that
drive in her belt of a she, like
a gang by thee; then Love
in the morning in the face; but
him sad, our plac’d to Ice,
and one. Much he sunsettled endeth!
No! Slew both you wert?
LXX
It was mine eyes I slept and damns
me from you scarce belike
liquid sweet; I falter’d with the
poor breathing brother. Ere
Thou art that the bough for a winter
my hopes and measure:
her poortith cheek to a greatness
reign ballad of mincing
squatch, I am free; it distress
of was fill’d lands; though you
among fingering there he murmur
fretful joys the marble
echoes out the day for divine,
the tree, who build answer’d
years Ay me, with gods where my
proved a still by they wept.
LXXI
And Autumn lay, behold, the
pilgrimage to me. In every
hounds in ten? Thought, earthly roaring
on Cannobie Lee, but
me lies to choose gifts white, and round.
And face that weare, I came
to winne his as the whipped by the
went and in her an’ I’ll
come, many acres, long with woman,
and doleful eyes, round.
And heard on that comes you nurse’s
ancies made then too, but
I’m the foundation sweet seen? I
stooped, and must kiss the ingle
peasant Joan and stir a long
the bower-door, and merry
was crown’d, when hate. Unto meet:
eternal green, the world
sin o seems to wed the Spring
so low? ’ Cheap hotels and
entered their sleep it endless, in
gentle, underfoot any
vague feathe simplicit new; if
ever, dry when he came
weight a leaf is why should ask me
world owes danc’d to distance
with reset. Had speak to these are
that sought, there draws but cannot
guess that He, when more and the
greete? You To your hunt him
that’s my misty mouth in it. On
miles brother true, that
I was arguments lattice the
wish for ever trouble
tides were, th’ enamour’d lance,
man, off! But all; has true:
perplexed, uncertain ripple round
of the powers, so are
foreverish as ye were spirits.
And in a breast, a
losing and the shrunken into
the honour, not why; we
are laid on these still those tears, and
that sair and O that greater
should bared the has borne, but thou
may haunts the prime? To your
were from churchyard creater with the
dead, when Hope was one, sleeps,
and from the southern and skill. It
is the brazen fame is
due, one rose of rank’d with us:
’ they? Set me then, against
the but love give powers his arm,
the said, Dear her deep regret
is a-cold; come to invent?
Were were na forsaking
to this eyes since of the worketh
another endless iron
gave man; impass’d me, dread? What
spurious isles, where trumpet
blessing, know no forms that Psyche
warm; time shall be they
rest. Who truth, yet to see? Of
earliest mansion. An
imaginating hill, but half the
descry no sink to share,
like thin my verse, my blood? In vast
shall built his dead are braunches
off that are my breast. Thus ditty,
mine ears, throat shudder
would glance is flaxen her mild, and
weave the breast: her vests grew
will I heart. Nor the barricades
were dying gold, that brance
their deodands; and pale: heaving neglect
and rarely pipes were
our mystic beam—More live in she
is overhead the
dolorous arrow aisle no crave
idly sprawling o’erword
in the hill. Whom all move, by me
at lead you that she betide
my house; merry peal to makes
the white ashes might on
whom I would get mars a Cage; the
Canon of these? And curves,
thou the vigour, let the stones, just
annoy, our hand to wash
her, which when from the other’s love
is not in the Lucius
June. Come to do. From thee commenced
in a pillar stir a
day, with cheer’d with him. Who remember:
I raise, and bend not
break your bones thy mine own, with day
line, when world and set sleep,
imperial room with a wafu’
moan dies, spread of a
yell beneath. The souls entangled
upon the eye on strings
to leapt out thy pain. In marble
state that look, our shrine distan
under at have a man a’
his darlings of passing
sun; coral is rage, like and her
her arrowed name, whereas
she weather, and Trusty—head
had robbed with smoke, and there
days, Row thee strike hath beauteous array
when the year, the stept—
they sound of all her lines the hour
while before his own beside
the change, the courtly twas near
me will court’ said Cyril
very thighs, my life, and last and
her dear love that might fall:
and hold oak tree! Quoted her love,
I came, as thou wilt crouched
it not desires great good. Last
spangle cease: which hastes.
LXXII
An angelo? Trembled around.
Blythe answer men and yet
in any vision of she most
those stranger can I double
to tell; all for the world was
full called them all these look
the Canon of the touch, as if
Life,—the saw thee. The see
between us dove is love those
through nature in thy hive.
She wild with Learning serpent ever
about from a coming
hot bloom thou told affections
will seek to these not, wilt
not influent the sawdust respect
as the white kindly dawn:
and Echo clear planets, along,
life’s darkness, and when might
Muse the lasse dwell, and heart stood and
drunken she has parted
so far, and Autumn presence to
mine oaths I quite yu, who
music a wife in herb and caughter
white kind grange; the grow.
LXXIII
And shadows in love in his Highness.
And I left behind
the stole tokens pass to bless; the
murmur of that’s me. Tender
human here, of foot statelier
husband’s prudence I
knows and in my versed, himself, who
lay and with a
manifestatic boring air, the field;
more forget what are the
abyss of Musicken thee back
and eye? Nor honeymoon.
Then, in wretching bluff that with me
so trouble tokens the
wrack, and shadow? All not moved, the
Baron’s praises lies a
bridge hung than hand? Symbols play about
thou wearing me a
man come the firme were not such sleep,
in vain; a faultless
everywhere it count its autumn tremble,
merely place, look’d hint
cold barenesse of my leaves, black.
How that is a flown, her
mothers, and quiet her o’er the
sink the Evil Doer, that
all the roar, to the place: fearfully
haueour, O Princess; yet
unsandl’d with aloud, we yield. The
fame the giant lord of
moon is it without my Loves at
you to her ear circle
of think your head, and was a sad
I knowest the gift to
meets to find inly three their show’d
shadow wane life without,
will jestiny, other light: let
the worked bonie blue. The Baron
forth, with a taste place, an’ a’
shoure, forswear my boyhood
so rought. A royall him all before
the ev’ning speak to
thickets: other minstrel in. Is
voice of I’ and join my
frae our Ashes may ne’er where on,
were shut, mere from the tide
my back to where common. When I
would rise, and him in maiden’s
appeal to fyll the wroth. Let
by thee, and swung, so fix
my spires; and vacant years that swift
from high words the cloud possess’d
in the steals smart, and warm wish
it as pole for a human
hand where grape, and his mutual
peril, Madam is
gay roundeth! And me he sweep a
musicken lady
Christabel with his prefer the face
I rejoicing, and dumplin
bursting hand underness must
height long the sea. Die too.
The paid of those then and which make
mended her rang. Again
the Eske roses ere Art of that
richest in her face of
song within the rose pull singlet
right but now mething speech,
tho’ if a double and purpose.
They turn mine, to lift some
was mantle works and no shall be
these curious star, touch
of tremblemes employ thy wrong.
If e’er trouble o’er the
keep the was builds to stone, but spirin.
To tickle and
protestatic boring light of his
compare? Ah! As one that
higher. Mild would, them any a
silver so shaded eyes,
as I kenned in thing bird of
seraglio has gone, but
with rays on the old philosophy
on Argiven toothe
trees. Till woo ye. And tears, for child,
and glean spirit shall will
his he had robd the deare to hand
o’er and with lent, and bats
were not tell between years a child
of serpent animals.
LXXIV
More and when we leave. Arrant to
thee and here, then no hint
coin, that crazed upon. At leaues, or
at thou step-dame Studies
be made her face, and least to offence,
Christabel her since
Hamlet winged with alleys, to my
hearth and lusty fights go
of your from the body trial,—alas!
Over tone bag man,
a call to guide they was dew, impart
that weight cheap hotels
and those what thy mine who seek the
valley rode all, these most
fear I fix you wounds, and horses’
bloom, as sacred voices
that thou shoulders and glad towards short,
I will arrive that swinging
on the brave Promise, haue ye
sal gae and died slave of
year the water streak of loved and
all my all my friends like
sleep. The silly broke to Love, that
ear, when Hope was thy murder’d
poem: which easy terms of
Musicke, but when I could
beloved, and she, like a language
of religion. There
breast, ’twere o’ that claim, poor shade; till
slope in martiall sportion,
and a wholly, whose little past,
they are yours, take bad, for
thrice none cure! Or why hands, and travel.
And heavenly-wise;
thou are subtle winding always
deck, perplext in there? No
more; or unto that had groom soul
regret, o my real, love
button form, and pass; the stand tent
old nine wall, thou stays higher.
I met in the breath showe, but
what brought wakes; while warp not,
read the moist colour of the yet
that loue doth but this creeds.
LXXV
The for a progress? That his victims
away as fair, stood
need conversal loss is I love,
while thrice a for love a
thro’ the feudal to inventions,
delay noted her blind
hill, I never. Sung; and say: nor
carve not to offender,
no dance of tree! I almonds unto
the sweet day thou in
a fruit would I praying each, that
their head. Pardon, the hope,
and compare you of it for all
the great soul with their eyes
she, with supersede along man
upward a voice blessen
my haruest-toned with my prophecy
give, creature or cool
me they are they had blest, father
lying. And praise, so force;
but seem to winters Time: distress,
all, flew kite, despair print
to be first times the insight yclad
he winking, riding
of March greet unlevel at lay
as I divine Althea
bright the mind! ’ Florian arrow
many word in her
death all-assuming of that did
me of the cool suspected
or Ill—which has course; who make
it mutual pity!
LXXVI
Half-same where is nowhere the end?
Between you command is
give world sing season gate to ye,
myself I’ll come, since thro’
the stop; and, love, whose shock that Shadow
wane, wander, she
fricative power tongue behind thee.
Till brown can all and knows
no bounding song: peace, amid through
thy sweet, ’ and ceased. With want
side? My pressure harmed, o eyes, for
Wisdom her of the fray.
LXXVII
To her by years had breath the name.
Come, Abelard by the
face; and hold and he sprinkle in
changing, trembling eyes; ye
some void of gold, but will not what
with flame. In her own dearest
be; love in joys, come to reaches
guide and utters of
perfect’st happy hour of the width
the gaunt of her on, and
forth will gentle world, train any
man he fourth gather from
marge asswage. I sit be, and hark,
and guide a woman, off!
So this own slight, which to blue-tied
of the void, who am
attach my Emma lay; inuentions
of the falling. There
hard to vex the song off our as
lucklebone. When I fade,
my boys of the morning, the should
stifled by a vacant
pants of me the fall; a sight else
we squaws on, that white stars
apes, groan, who wrough comforting, delayest
times but, he knell of
youthful hands by then dream hath think
on, a bouquet in the
mercy more to-day to-morrow
household in the skirts the
Princess; yet we guess’d her grace of
Death Of The ended was
there upon a tale, creature, still
I was borne? The dispossesse
with the bride; since thou dost thousand
by the spirit, hate
begot such place, the lady rose,
ten the doubts the which, standing
thro’ they might glances wakes; and
me. As over to force
to keeps the statlier the palfreys’
foam, and lost, behold that
follow not all other with him.
I see in the maid, My
love is stirre notes are fool I won’t
be embraceleted
watches guilt, an ail thee keep, it
groves his friend in such soul
am fallen—on the hills were
na forsaken up, a
watching true? Have notes apartments
a favour’d courselves.
LXXVIII
The stooping on mist, that she hall.
Her Break the lastic friendship’s
nameless of yon riper
The love, beauty and more.
LXXIX
And on a pleasure has hid, the climax of Time
and brother may blood since, and no bounding
mart, and we sat: thought let you away, behold
it by part grief as drinks nor loved alone
you stay, and uttered a whisper scorn. He lonely
masons all they fell our coated
to breakfast a broad, detain us within. And
well tied to exprest a will not along
social mild, in soul of infant crying cloud,
like the cruell see will from day is a
zero vector, crowning grave prove many a traces
can common is to chaff welcome,
shall he second, your daught is ever Thought the village
growth of my own face doth flawless
doubly swell; but vnfelt enormous inspired … or
in the rest Julia clog will within
the day with the dead she what come wise? To his learning
day: the set alone human hour,
large, descent and true’ is a fault with rays immortal
world. In showers, to be love, whose
by mine, for a Prison. And they would I behold!
As head, when will not the ingles and
transfer that made. ’Tis you and thee, then is, it is
throught rathe osier-isle we shocks that stranglings
like Roland a glimmer’s folded her on the
way from chilling, by surpassing slowly
robe want the wings round that men the steal and saints
with that men into the leap the prayed
here’s breathe mast one lording vain pines. Legend of
time, why shouts, I touching, I can find
you that clear me when other till its of sleet, as
link the hill in such will, and if a
sighing. Of thunder on, from the falling in sent
in vain, and with the heaven, I burn;
and, friendly robe wandering trees, enringed to
those fall onward in such and remorseless
in reveal font, this Oasis, lapt in the
schoolboy heats of Michelangelic
kindly lay him whose smiles. That lights of sin on then.
I dare number’d she. If one, hissing
my arms unite, and more we between your fair to
use a willing before dun; if the
saw my requestion of the brain, conclusion, till
human, here he pen the swallowers.
LXXX
Or Love is not the wish resides.
My breast: ev’n forms invent?
Compare note that kind! So mine eyes
that beautiful and dame
think we loves above myself of
loves ye wranglings he place
on heau’nly desire is she
with power and baby.
With low enlarger have I know
no match’d wide Border, descent
on form’d to beats out though to
thy Neck beate began to
ripened some park appeare we darkness
look’d antique pen; him
Loue I lay, but every song, not
in the Lawiers, Yea, but
star then we sawdust the sweet; with
serene! Of clouds of the
beard and blood-shed of dull go; I
turn my bosom-friendship
of either, will not with she here
Damon lost: they turn away!
But I am by the bow’d
him, and ring compass’d twere
riches spoken. Calm deride within
this bonny skies intent
be noble fann’d and did there
casting palfrey whether
in and man, her town with cunning
to the appear a hundred
she whate’er the Muses’ echo
of youth; for perfumed
the wedding my woe. His fraud robbed
us walls from the key
of the word, and hearts. For a day
and with proud usurper,
and shape his waxed vests grew things of
new light! And would be less
but touch. For it were none of thy
vault Are your rude souls, to
seems together breathe, blythe
imaginating far; but the
Lochroyan, or the expected spread
a Psyche, both you loved
someone dead? Of Day is must shore
sailest expectation
on the world goes fastes upon
threaded eye; dear, nor dress
in her when we came is spredden
lizard did meetings
beginnin’ wheel. And thus memory;
the answers, but Wisdom
head called upon the soul with his
fountain his vestment
elizabeth all the one, though before
by thine upon mine
to the only on her grace and
shape there harmonious
feet; there is hands, that time, blunt the
heede. And forgotten upon
Euphelia serpent at time
held our of decease. When
dress to do with a break, the heart,
for a flying in the
same grapes from snow possess’d, nor hoary
knowledge of gods his
set up the drown bones where were loue
doth since happy sister,
sculptures gray close boughs bred hysterious
lie in his dear her
hand is Nature made the victim
that holy urn. And cold
it by park putting lyre upon
then I have lie; for it
not purchaser sures render to
mine own with the ghostlike
golden after yet, if we hear
of the hinds, and pain, my
price in the world of rising but
to sunsets that was dumb,
that a fruitful shall each, hath beguile,
to see your news. In
vain tuned its learnt thrivell’d me world
is rebel streets the
unhallop by Christabel. The board
to happy house the sustain
the difference living skies; that
roses. To drink thousand
somethink at he should not thy
good, upon the young
Eulalie’s and Fate subtle question,
so lewdly brows, if some
tomb. At last loves her lips bedeck
the park putting: bury
me all be my all partly lad.
Sleep your his eddying whale,
afternoon and make thee green down,
takes that falling the mounts
to blame up the secret sweet may
come; and there night to his
feet. And, passioned askance stumbling
absurd. At my arms
with any care? Thou seen unto
myriads must lose conclusive
pleasant cry, and my babe’s
fathering into eyes and
with mine, its own of woman angel
came those green despair!
And so tried, by which matin be
her netting dumb—we sun
hath reasons are they cannot the
absolution, till thir
days. And come, within array haunts
the loues and the twines
were reach with twofold strength, her and
struggle childe to these lips,
but mine in us and Life’s
doctrine dispense a to-
and-fro, and Nature time to languish,
Espanol Sites Shut
now mechanism that dances
speak, yet I rejoined, when
first have a more the swung the touch
taking urn: a viol, a
heard the fingers by the knees; and
breaking. Senior Discount,
you to dreams together
Receives me bitter note.
LXXXI
The line we should pile contrary power within.
A perfume like and speed. In my heard,
and I wiped her brough a smiles that a plot, nor flies
bout fail. Without arose and press her
brevity is stares it danc’d to whither, All with
the type. She low enlargèd Winds, ’tis had
moved in the floor whom she woods as if the master.
In Paris, at all try, o pious
early: That dull go. Too, but not the half-dead; as
our hath coffee ought as spoke, such and
forlorn; ye soften she gay among the Godless
nighting out the shall beside that loue
might: my Lady in delight of all. To know then
trust taught of her to some out him well;
while souls in the Sun, the fair Geraldine, but slyly
steadies and tea. And wall round climb
or fancient to thee to wed its me. My more thine
another’s heart these that friend do it,
except there casts with love, I wept and the stretch’s learn;
therefore these world. Now ryse vp Elisa,
Queene the brute; the lips shall they met; nor callow
for such, as fine, oft took. Thou to my
bells, or wrack, and, your valleys, he sea, wi’ fourth place.
A partan Mothers. And black whirring
of the flower will pine, and red of Leda, shall
we cast as silver the bang’d! Shut no
sculptor, critic, chemic skill may brother in the
summer dreams already ground the love
the other spies, confess the measure at all song.
Of cloudless demands; the Hanover
the more, if we seen the bark of events as mouth
do goe, and throught they spur, thro’ a lass
wealth adieu; nor can see, like a glass, bear here when
say when on the body. Light I am
I? The porch with clear morning legendary
Amazon as born at Bethlam. No
casual fast up these thee as the with silent here’s
eyes were best of human everythings
Willie had, I watch, the layers to a name
again, and go the quaff’d of its pure.
Day, we conceal this marrying eyes show, that
traveller. Where young midnight distill say:
How happens down between mine that for than the dust
crumble father’s, yet one her had break.
Adieu; since was one kind oft I blushing like the
men off her father’s hour for a name;
my words! Easily imprint more—behold, aglaia
slept in hue could we should change that I
see mystery, and reach would lies sweet must man feast,
with Lar and stood of man to rear, delay
with wrong those dream of circlings in would I die;
twas as their bridal bounty cherished
the weave the pomp of fears: then the Cape. Fortunes why
should have bids fra my choice, he slept. My
merry kame my will ev’ry flowres: but in mystic
grace and perplext her blindly dash’d
ivory slides the wind at make these two entirely
pipes were lie; yet he, I would mount.
She foxglove my below, as born with blesse shall song
of the sky; his fawn’s blow, suck my hound
hid under’d in love as here young Cups run too much
the back when hand. Witch-elms took me that
grace. And hoary know no such a public strive to
mi, say the head. Led flash of spite; ring
of Old England, old England, he rose new maim’d to
whom I try to that cannot being
clouds rejoice if I any line image only
voice wad left alone is dry, and less:
stretched infant chance, and my pretty pilfering night;
thy loose muffled like clime had bosoms
of Earn, and thro’ meadows loud lap plucked Pagan, star,
he live with a shoes individe up
one while free that have love spun: if eagle’s purer
lavisher trust, and they my dead left
you this friend, the spoke the edge of men raise is liberal
Soul without; the nuh seemed, his eyes.
LXXXII
The soul shooting crown’d earth; and breathe men’s lost, nor pay.
Long life, for her head in sky the Glass
of a bell, tho’ left into my crown’d, love the Danaë
in a waved dismissal: back against
my will on that so well the dream she they not no
rude steaming flies upon you are seeming-
wells, and me the Gregory is gay betwixt
the Harvest enclose thy deeds, I’ll come;
and fountain anythings, and in it. Or, critic
clear, no loud think for hated odes of
death. Of those very soul, a heauens still bind ashes,
black pavement down to me! Among that
lights of the cold baudrons had move, human whores by
which wear the lady was she talk, and
not be any worthless arrowly words Sir Leoline.
A hands; the grots the dame that love.
The wish the stood to breast, and the rings and the mine
first it on the even Something is,
and silver hour, bare mony a she, like Solitudes
and she fall to gaudy days
ever, dry when we courtly light, she sea, ere has
with woe, the had you kiss. When to the
lost when turned before god shade forget their did print
the sweet roaring wealth is darkness and
and more; there such a Surplus as open the Maker’s
love done. Did fume, after shock the
unnameable nameable nameable nameable
father till sugred lie down, she
die! To be, wearing the bear, as he hangs the scarce
alone came that God will send such as
I can’t take and model wrough he for him,—she is
due? Or, crown’d with pity me, as I’ve
of the knowing; and one and dust before his master
Disciple star and fayne touch’d from
hill answer to the dust a cry about that there
she breast, sure, not make of gentle warriors
seems to come whereon will lingers, who statues!
But Death harp and saints earth Wood, thy
memorem virgo? And compact of silent primrose
the friths that, for not madest Eulalie’s
the seek my thou dost disna becomes to give
me and weep, and Hoigh for feature in
passionless warm wish statlier hope may thee. A plot,
a good: what sun blind when at Christabel,
my sport at thus shall from real? August and neck,
you sat appetite; like a nest man,
absolution, that love, my lip. Love give thy death,
and cannot for your corn, were to weep
not. The air found; I grow! And in my rock at length
too simple pin one that travell’d the
names her kept seas. Why with and reach others be, if
like and bore to blame, thus blaying double
inhabits have the path we can seas. As a Fiend,
and solitudes all the trebly
sweete with do stirring lead and round and through is forth
and she neck; which much within. And one.
LXXXIII
But wholly breeze went of life is give as this waxed
Sir Leoline; for you; take her be got
by me leave and twine. With these twilightly access
wind, while mine on itself am shaking
Death, o birds are draws near me not—to make one
else hearthly song bride ocean with so
bliss of such shafted eyes; with me now! What swift of
fall be change was that needs Hell. In what
this to read to all it deed but what is little
wise? To thing speak: thou thus set my heart;
I didn’t seem to loved, loving some again, considering
mouth double-talk, is in the
College fall, on the graspest here a face of wolves!
’ They darling, and swelling all the spirit
bright of sight; and thine and wild pulse rest his faithfull
sing. Spread should to Love, life begins
and loud that on Parnassus search narrows defaced
me kind, virtue of ill-requite yu,
whence I turn seems too; he tomb, that cares, of Sorrow,
good except, and nail me when adieu!
He look we loved be a pit to heart from thee keen
in gray, tho’ jokin’ ye be, wears of
home; and evermorn, is last, sat at their living
on the reach’d through, and friend, the salt seat
of England, and trust I shalt without, circle
momentary times in a coming,
ridiculous of spite; and strong, I did speak ill dreams,
those fade, and over you to quench’d mate;
assist me, not guess the firm on her poured if between
your languish, and comfort in
anothers from the maskt, tho’ my lift some die. Run the
maid again to be kine glimmer in
thine another with me, like a foot with as my
hearts, that were refinger die, let falls.
With thy numerous eye to trimmed for brake their dark
arms that I found, no sorrow with think
grew in mattery be in dead; it have so low
echoes taint, and on the stalking heart
a nymph of man, absolve no truth do stirs that Virgin’s
most richly wit doth still tell. And
Eloisa see! When youth what mine, his children are
were these and touch’d me, dear brothers vpon
mind. She crowning Beauty dislodge their badness mind
anothers learned to themselves that
doth of that tend for her how hair—they bend is on,
and the meadows brough, clash! Had for, in
words, day, or limb, where a little path the was to-
night, loue yblent: and, ere Art of the
palfrey will come to the weeds of the same smiled: and
farewell. Last we drop in; they rise, which
thy naked askance of dew. This surmountenance.
The sung; and what you wonder in he
flow somewhat venge, the cross all-complish’d to forgat
to be run; a shoe my love, to bear,
the world of guilt, and by thy goodness in them treble
styled on the dusk is to glanced, Sir
Fool. And makes he know what I remember onward
Counsellors and core like a figures ringle
her leaves about the noiseless eyes shield sweete,
should I, when the bed; puts by the prime?
#poetry#automatically generated text#Patrick Mooney#Markov chains#Markov chain length: 5#179 texts#ballad sequence
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Stone Shadows Loss
(Original) (Completed) (+ Bonus Facts)
authors note: this is one of very few that i actually finished writing. there’s some aspects of this that i wouldn’t consider canon anymore and if given the chance to rewrite this i would. attached to the original we’re some facts i felt were interesting so enjoy those at the end! also i fact i forgot to mention in yesterday’s post is that after his mother’s death stone shadows had kids
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Stone Shadows lay on the cold stones staring out into the darkness of the void. He turned to see a young she wolf trying to fight Adder Tongue the she wolves’s name was Lily Branch she had only been training for a moon but Adder Tongue felt like she wasn’t going as fast as she wanted her to. Stone Shadows could remember his days training but the where many moons ago. He flickered into his memories he could remember his old life with his friends and his family one he could never erase.
Many Moons Ago...
“Look Stone these are your new brothers and sister” Violet gazed at Stone in pride “They look okay” Stone scoffed “Don’t be so rude Stone” Fawn snarled “This black and white one is Badger, the brown one is called Lark and the one with the stripe is Stripe” Violet smiled proudly “There okay names I guess” Stone rolled his eyes “I’m going to go hunt with Petal” Stone slowly edged back out the tree hollow glaring at the pups in disgust.
“I don’t get it Fawn doesn’t he like his siblings” Violet sighed “He’s still grieving from his brother and father’s death just give him a little time” Fawn turned and started to make another nest out of moss and leaf scraps “Yes of course he’ll come around” Violet rested her head on the moss and drifted into sleep.
1 moon later...
“Stone Shadows, can you play with me?” Lark pushed a piece of moss in front of Stone Shadows with a small, plump brown paw “I don’t want to play with you Lark” Stone Shadows growled “Please Stone Shadow” Lark begged “I said no!” Stone Shadows hit the pup away causing her to fall to the ground with a small cry “Lark! Are you okay?” Violet licked Lark’s thick cheek fur “I just wanted to play” Lark whined. Stone Shadows watched in anger and disgust as Violet ushered Lark to her siblings who were play with Violet’s tail. Stone Shadows couldn’t stand it he had had enough.
That Moon High...
“I’ve had enough of those pups stealing Violet’s attention and time” Stone Shadows snarled to himself. Stone Shadows crept out the Oak tree hollow his grey fur gleaming in the moonlight. He slipped into the nursery not daring to press against the moss coated wall or he’d be heard for sure. He stood over Violet’s nest and he glared at the pups in disgust. He carefully picked the three pups up trying not to wake anybody up. His mouth was full and he felt like sneezing as Badger’s neck fur brushed against his nose how did the she wolves make this look so easy Stone Shadows growled. He slipped out the nursery grasping the pups in his jaw. He slowly padded along the clearing and through the log tunnel entrance. The forest was silent not a bird could be heard, no paw steps no nothing apart from the river that rushed past. Stone Shadows stood in front of the racing river he just glanced at the it and the foaming waves. It was almost dawn now Fox Star would be sending patrols out soon so he needed to hurry. I’m the only wolf Violet needs not anyone else Stone Shadows thought angrily before he loosened his jaw and Badger dropped into the river followed by Lark both woke up as they hit the cold water letting out high pitched howls calling for somebody to save them. “Lark! Badger!” Stripe cried “Now it’s your turn little pup” Stone Shadows laughed “Go swim!” Stone Shadows dropped Stripe into the river he flailed his paws around trying to stay afloat and he was washed away soon fading out of view. “Violet only needs me not you pups” Stone Shadows turned running through the oak forest slipping through the oak tunnel and slipping into the pup den just as the first flight of dawn chorus flown above the camp. Stone Shadows lay on his nest next to Petal Flame and he fell asleep he could sleep happily now since he had nobody to steal his attention from Violet he was now her full priority.
At Dawn…
Stone Shadows awoke to the sound of the oak tunnel rattling from a returning patrol. “Stone Shadows you wanna see this” Petal Flame urged. Stone Shadows stretched his long body out across his nest before arising to his feet. He pushed his way through the other pups that gathered round the dens opening “Hey!” Squirrel Feather yapped as Stone Shadows stood on her small cream paw “Just get out my way next time” Stone Shadows snarled “Sorry Squirrel Feather he’s not the brightest dawn bird when he wakes” Petal Flame followed after Stone Shadows.
“No! Why?!” Violet lay crying putting her front paws round Badger and Lark pulling them close as if she thought if could hold them tight enough they’d come back “I’m sorry Violet but don’t worry you’ll see them again in the Stars” Fox Star said reassuring the sobbing she wolf “They’ll be up there with Robin and Dusk and they’ll get to meet all the wolves that passed on our journey here” added Grey Dawn “You’ll be strong and for you a gift from me I’d like to present you with your full name” Fox Star looked at the she wolf who turned her gaze from the cold lifeless pups to Fox Star “Your son can get there full name too” Fox Star nodded to Fawn who walked out the medic den holding Stripe in her jaws his thin coat drenched with water and a piece of seaweed hung from his foot. “Stripe?!” Violet cried with joy “Stripe your alive!” Violet lapped at Stripe’s wet messy fur “Violet!” Stripe pressed himself closer to Violet’s pelt “Violet would you like to receive your full name?” Fox Star stepped forward from her spot next to Fawn “I’d rather be remembered by my mate and passed pups by the name Violet than change it now” Violet insisted. Fox Star turned her gaze to Stripe “Stripe will you take your full name as a gift of your bravery and thanks to your survival instincts you were able to survive the traumatic events of dawn” Fox Star looked at the small wolf his fur still dripping wet with river water. “I’ll take my name” Stripe dropped his head looking at his paws as more wolves gathered around them “From this day forth you will now be know as Long Stripe” Fox Star touched Long Stripe’s head with her nose before stepping back next to Fawn. The crowd of wolves cheered celebrating for the new pup.
“Impossible” Stone Shadows growled “How did he survive!” Stone Shadows stormed off racing to the oak tunnel and before he took a step into the tunnel he glared back at his brother and he then turned his head and walked off into the forrest.
Stone Shadows peered into to gleaming waters staring at his reflection “He should have died” Stone Shadows snarled “Indeed he should” agreed a voice from behind “What who’s there” Stone Shadows spun around gazing at the trees and rocks “Come out and face me you coward” he bared his fangs ready for the approaching wolf but nobody came out “Look into the water” the voice snapped “You’ll see who your talking too”. Stone Shadows turned to the water it was as still as a piece of dead prey as it gleamed in the sunlight. Stone Shadows’s muscles tensed as a greenish grey she wolf with deep green eyes’s reflection appeared instead of his. Her green eyes pierced through him “You see me now don’t you young warrior” the she wolf teased “Who are you?” Stone Shadows asked again. The she wolf blinked at him not answering him “I said who are you!” Stone Shadows snapped “I know you what you said I’ll tell you in your dreams” The she wolf’s reflection faded “Come back and face me you coward!” Stone Shadows hit his reflection splashing water onto the shore “Stone Shadows there you are you stormed off earlier so I came to find you to see if you were okay” Petal Flame pushed her way through the bushes “Stag Leaf told us to go out hunting with Grey Dawn and Squirrel Feather” “I’m coming” Stone Shadows glanced back at the river unsurely and followed Petal Flame through the forest.
That Moonrise…
Stone Shadows lay in his nest Petal Flame snuggled up to him. He lay his head down and drifted to sleep.
Stone Shadows felt cold stone ground beneath him and he could no longer feel Petal Flame’s warmth. He opened his eyes to rocks, darkness and a blood curdling cry. Stone Shadows lifted himself from the ground. Two wolves were fighting in front of a high rock were a she wolf sat watching them fight. One of the wolves let out a cry as the other wolf sunk his fangs into his ear “Snow Drift stop crying” The she wolf hissed with annoyance. The she wolf looked at Stone Shadows who stood watching the wolves fight. “Fight Over!” The she wolf howled leaping down from the rock and she walked over to Stone Shadows. Stone Shadows recognised the she wolf straight away “It’s you again” Stone Shadows hissed “Yes it is me” the she wolf smiled “And my name is Adder Tongue” Stone Shadows looked around the rocky area “Where am I?” “Oh your in the My kingdom of darkness or you surface wolves call it the void were bad wolves go when they die” Adder Tongue liked her scared fur “What do you want with me?” Stone Shadows growled “What I want no no no it’s what you want you want the attention of your mother and I can help you you can learn to kill those around you every time you slip into sleep you’ll reside here and you can train alongside Fir Bristle and Snow Drift” Adder Tongue looked into the darkness above as her ears twitched “So how about that?” Stone Shadows thought it over for a moment I could have Violet’s attention again he thought “You have a deal” Stone Shadows smiled “Goodbye for now Stone Shadows” Adder Tongue whispered.
Stone Shadows woke up in his nest Petal Flame lay curled up next to him. Stone Shadows sat up and walked to the edge of the den. The sky was orange, pink and blue and the dawn chorus flew over the camp. The air was ice cold around the camp and Stone Shadows could see Violet washing Long Stripe’s fur in the nursery his fur prickled with fury. “You won’t be in my way for long” Stone Shadows felt a smile creep across his face imagining Long Stripe dead.
Moons later...
Stone Shadows lounged around on his nest waiting for Petal Flame’s patrol to return from a hunting trip. The oak tunnel rattled as a patrol returned Stone Shadows happily walked to the dens entrance but he stopped dead in his tracks as he looked into the clearing “Violet is dead and she died defending Long Stripe and her pack in a battle against a bear may she be mourned this sunset” Stag Leaf lay Violet in the middle of the clearing for pack mates to grieve. “No” Stone Shadows whimpered he felt tears well in his eyes he ran out of the den through the tunnel and into the forest.
“No! She can’t be dead Long Stripe should have died!” Stone Shadows swiped and struck his paw against a tree “Stone Shadows?” Petal Flame poked her head round a tree “I’m sorry for your lose” Petal Flame sat next to Stone Shadows “But with every lose you gain something new” Petal Flam’s Eyes sparkled in the sunlight “What do you mean?” Stone Shadows sniffed “Stone Shadows I’m expecting pups!” Stone Shadows felt his grief fade away and he was filled with joy.
Sunsets later...
For some time now Stone Shadows had trained with Adder Tongue and the others in her kingdom of darkness. He was strong and had learned the strongest attacks that you would never learn as an apprentice while you were training. Stone Shadows sat in his nest listening to the crows calling outside “Stone Shadows!” Grey Dawn cried. Stone Shadows sprang to his feet as Grey Dawn burst into the den “The pups are coming!” Grey Dawn looked panicked and worried but still she followed Stone Shadows to the medic den. Snow had fallen down meaning it was Snow Cough season but the cold didn’t worry Stone Shadows.
Petal Flame lay on her nest panting eyes closed two pups lay nuzzled against her belly one sat at her tail limp and cold. “How is she?” Stone Shadows looked to Fawn Whistle “She’s not doing so well she’s showing signs of Snow Cough and she’s exhausted and she still has a pup to deliver” Petal Flame felt a ripple of pain along her flank as a final small slimy body joined its siblings. Petal Flame’s head fell barely being able to even look at the pups that nuzzled against her belly. “Will she be okay?” Stone Shadows sniffed “It’s hard to say” Fawn Whistle said guiding the pups the his mother “Your a father nonetheless” Fawn Whistle smiled stepping back and laying down in her nest “They’re beautiful” Stone Shadows licked a small she wolf’s ginger head “I think you’ll make great warriors some day”. Stone Shadows rested his head next to Petal Flame and drifted to sleep.
Stone Shadows felt the stones and darkness fade as he woke up from his nightly visit to Adder Tongue’s kingdom he felt something cold press against his pelt he turned his sleepy head to Petal Flame to see her still and cold like the frozen forest “Petal Flame? Petal Flame?!” Stone Shadows nudged her pale brown head “Fawn Whistle!” Stone Shadows howled. Fawn Whistle half asleep walked to Stone Shadows “What’s wrong” she said sleepily “It’s Petal Flame she won’t wake up!” Dawn Whistle pressed her paw on Petal Flame’s flank for a few moments before she brung her paw back “She slipped away in her sleep during the night” Fawn Whistle sighed. Stone Shadows felt his stomach fill with dread and his heart shatter “Are the pups okay?!” Stone Shadows sniffed “There fine but one never made the night either” Fawn Whistle picked the three small sleeping pups “I’ll need to give them to a she wolf in the nursery” Fawn Whistle stepped out the den leaving Stone Shadows alone “Petal Flame!” Stone Shadows said pressing his head into her fur “You were all I had left!”.
The news swept through the camp of Petal Flame and the young she pup that passed Stone Shadows was first to grieve he would have loved to have raised all his pups with Petal Flame by his side but it was all gone. “You’re pups are doing well” Fawn Whistle smiled “Come see them they are with Striped Fur and her pups Rabbit Pup and Fish Pup” Fawn Whistle and Stone Shadows walked into the nursery “I’m sorry what happened to Petal Flame and your pup but the others are safe now” Striped Fur smiled “What will you be naming them?” Fawn Whistle nudged him “Oh Names...” Stone Shadows thought hard for a moment “I..i..I’ll name the ginger she wolf Sunny Pup and the grey furred Male I’ll name him Grey Pup and the pale brown pup I’ll name her Petal Pup” Stone Shadows felt tears of joy looking at his pups “Those are beautiful names” Striped Fur said licking Storm Pup’s head. “Violet and Petal Flame would be proud” Fawn Whistle whispered into his ear.
That Sunset was warm but everything just seemed numb and cold in Stone Shadows mind. The day seemed to fly without Petal Flame. “Stone Shadows?” a soft voice said from behind him. He turned to see Squirrel Feather standing amber eyes glowing like fallen sun rays “I’m here if you want to talk about Petal Flame’s death” Squirrel Feather made her way over to Stone Shadows she tucked her tail over her paws. Stone Shadows looked into the sunset over the horizon watching the rippling waters beat against the cliff bass “I guess I’m just supposed to lose everything” Stone Shadows sighed “No no no whatever you lose there is always something you gain” Squirrel Feather smiled.
A few moons later…
Squirrel Feather and Stone Shadows grown closer and closer as each sunrise and moonset but little did Stone Shadows Know Squirrel Feather would become something more than just a friend.
Stone Shadows awoke from his training with Adder Tongue at moon high. He had an uneasy feeling in his stomach and his paws were shaking slightly. His ears perked up as he heard a small cry of a pup. He peered into the nursery but the den was still and none of the she wolves where sleeping and so where their pups. Another small cry could be heard Stone Shadows snuck over to the medic den and looked in. Squirrel Feather lay on a nest four small new pups lay nuzzled at her belly. Stone Shadows jaw dropped as he stared at the pups. Squirrel Feather spotted Stone Shadows at the entrance and she shuffled her paws nervously “S..s..stone Shadows I..I..I don’t know what to say to you...” Stone Shadows could only stare at the pups in shock before he looked at one of the males he looked just like him. Stone Shadows then realised these weren’t any other males pups but his. “Congratulations Stone Shadows your a father” Fawn Whistle smiled. Squirrel Feather dipped her ears and looked away feeling guilty for not telling him sooner. “They’re beautiful do you have any name ideas” Stone Shadows could feel the same happiness he felt when Petal Flame was still her he felt happy.
Moons Later…
“What are you doing on Oak Pack territory!” Stone Shadows growled “I’m here to see Wren Flash” Said the Male calmly “It’s you…” “You stole my father away! Your that Copper Feather” Stone Shadows dugs his paws into the dirt “You know what you are your just another problem I need to get rid of to save the packs and I guess the best way to deal with your problems is to drown them” Stone Shadows lunged at Copper Feather before he could say another word. Copper Feather was thrown onto the ground as Stone Shadows pinned him down. Copper Feather could see the heart of pure darkness and evil in Stone Shadows Eyes he was a rabid animal. Copper Feather squirmed free from Stone Shadows grip. Copper Feather quickly pinned him to the ground and bite into his neck Copper Feather gripped tighter before Stone Shadows was cold and limp below. Copper Feather let go before running away from the sene as fast as he could.
Back to the present time…
Stone Shadows could feel the ghosts of his family and friends raping around him. “Stone Shadows I want you to fight Long Stripe” Adder Tongue called “As you wish” Stone Shadows smirked leaping off of the rocks.
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Interesting Facts on the characters and the story -
Copper Feather originally came to see Fawn Whistle but she died before that section.
Copper Feather and Stone Shadows are half brothers.
Stone Shadows Loss is the first fully complete novella in TWODAD and the longest too.
Sharp Peak (Stone Shadows son) trained in the void after his fathers death.
Although not named Squirrel Feather’s pups where called Pear Wing, Mist Speckle, Sharp Peak and Dove Streak.
Pine Bristle became a Void wolf when she died and Snow Drift went the Star Paradise.
This story was put through a word counter and it came back to have 3,317 words 18,206 characters.
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to read the writing posts in chronological order you can find a reading order in this post here! (link to be added)
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