#( iii. sparkling wine )

[ceoofglytchell]

Haunting me

Summary: The Dance is over and you get summoned to the Red Keep to be the nursemaid to the little Queen Jaehaera. However, the more days pass, the more you notice a presence always lingering around you, watching from afar.

Pairing: Ghost!Aegon II Targaryen x Reader

Word count: 7042 words

Warnings: Post Dance of Dragons Era, talks of death and war, underage marriage (Jaehaera and Aegon III), Reader is described to be female and to have long hair, my attempt at mystery, ghost stuff, angst, fluff, brief suggestive content (it’s about a tapestry), no mention of Y/N

Notes: This is for the wonderful @bearwithegg ! It took me a long time to post this, but I hope you’ll like it! Likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated. Enjoy 💛

It has been months since King Aegon Targaryen returned victorious to King's Landing and reclaimed his father's throne.

Months since the Dance of Dragons was officially over. Rhaenyra is dead, the war that tore the Seven Kingdoms apart is finally over.

And then the unthinkable happened. The king was found dead in the carriage that brought him to the Great Sept. They say he passed out as peacefully as if he were sleeping. His wine had been poisoned, but no one could tell for sure who the culprit was.

Rumors say it was Lord Larys Strong. Others say it was Lord Corlys Velaryon. Still others say it was the king himself, to end his suffering.

But one could never say with any certainty.

A few weeks later, Aegon III, son of Rhaenyra, would be married to little Jaehaera, the king's last living child. They were children, innocent and frightened, who did not know the meaning of the oaths they were speaking there.

They were both no more than ten summers old, which was why they could not rule. The council took on that responsibility for them. But that did not mean they did not need someone at their side.

The Dowager Queen, Alicent Hightower, was out of the question. It was rumored that she had gone mad in the tower where she had been locked after the death of her last son. Her servants were said to hear her weeping at all hours. And when she was not crying, she was always talking about the time in her own youth when she read to the old King Jaehaerys.

Little Queen Jaehaera was all alone. The girl had no mother, no father, brother, or dragon. The war had taken all of that from her.

She needed someone by her side to take care of her.

And that was exactly why you were called to court. A young lady from a small, rather insignificant house, who had barely survived the Dance.

It was a great honor for you, as you had never dared to imagine ever seeing the Red Keep with your own eyes.

Even though times were bleak, the harvests left much to be desired, and many villages lacked young men, you were overjoyed to have been given such an opportunity.

A small ray of hope in a hopeless age.

The Red Keep was not what you had imagined.

The halls were cold and empty, the walls gray and colorless, and the people were taciturn and seemed plagued by the ghosts of the past.

Little Jaehaera quickly grew on you. Her large, amethyst-colored eyes were always sad and empty, but your heart swelled every time you made her smile.

She never laughed, but sometimes, when you told her stories from your village, you could see her eyes sparkle or the corners of her mouth lift slightly.

It was a beautiful sight that you guarded like a treasure.

You did not have much to do with the young king, as the king and queen often went their separate ways. You were also protective of the girl. The mere thought that something could happen to her sent shivers down your spine.

You did not want to know how the Dowager Queen felt. On the quiet nights when the moon was high in the sky and not even the trees moved, you could hear her weeping. It was loud, tragic, and broke your heart in two.

It must have been terrible to lose four children and three grandchildren in such a cruel way within the span of four years. The first victim was little Jaehaerys, the little queen's twin brother. Then Helaena, Aemond, Maelor, Daeron, and finally Aegon.

Her first and last.

She was only able to bury two of her children. The bones of the Kinslayer were lost forever at the bottom of the lake in front of Harrenhall, as were the bones of his mount, the mighty Vhagar.

In the villages surrounding the God's Eye, there is said to be a kind of test of courage for the younger people. They are supposed to swim to the bottom of the lake and see the bones with their own eyes. Some left a gold coin as tribute, others tried to destroy the final resting place of the prince and the dragon by kicking the bones underwater.

Depending on whose side these people had been on in the war.

Helaena and Aegon were given their graves next to each other in the Sept, so they could comfort each other even in death. It was the Queen Dowager‘s idea.

You had no connection to any of this.

You had not known any of them, had not ever seen any of them with your own eyes, and during the war, your house had been neutral. Your father did not care who warmed the Iron Throne with their behind, but only that his people were healthy and well-fed.

You had not wanted to choose either. Both sides had been right somewhere, but all that was quickly forgotten the moment the first blood was shed. After that, the flame became a walking inferno, devouring everything and everyone who approached this chaos.

You were glad you were not consumed by the fire.

"Have I already told you the story of Mattis the Foolish?" you asked Jaehaera after you had put her to bed and tucked her in.

The little girl shook her head and hugged her stuffed animal—a small cat—more to her chest. A hint of curiosity flashed in her eyes as she looked up at you.

"Well, listen carefully then. Mattis was a young man from the village I come from. He was well-read, handsome, and always quick with a joke. The young ladies idolized him, and every boy wanted to be his friend. Mattis was sure that the gods would favor him and that everyone would like him. And so he set out on a long journey to confirm his belief."

Jaehaera pulled the blanket up to her chin. "And what happened to him?"

"On his way, he encountered a group of bandits who had kidnapped a woman. She called for help, and Mattis the Heroic, as his friends always called him, rushed to the aid of the fair maiden," you continued, and you could see how the little queen became more and more curious with every word that left your lips.

"And then?" she asked you in a quiet voice. She never spoke aloud.

"He had confidence in his ability to befriend anyone, even vicious bandits. He approached them and struck up a conversation. The men fell under his charm, laughed with him, and toasted him. In the end, they gave him the woman for two gold coins and wished him luck on his journey."

"Oh no," murmured the little girl, already anticipating what was coming.

"No sooner had he set off again, the lovely maiden on his arm, he was suddenly stabbed in the back. The woman had pulled out a dagger, robbed him, and returned to the bandits' camp, while Mattis died miserably in the dirt. He had no idea that she was one of them and that she had only been out to rob good souls like him," you continued, brushing a silver strand of hair from the girl's face.

"And because he put his trust in a stranger, he is now called Mattis the Foolish?" Jaehaera asked you with a smile.

The story was dark, yes, but she liked it. You had learned that quickly after you read her a fairy tale once and she handed you a ghost story from Old Vaylria the next evening. It seemed so as if she liked the morbid and dark, which was why you had to come up with a new story every night that reflected that.

"Or simply because he believed that everyone would be his friend because he did not know any different. And what does this story teach us, darling?" you asked her as you slowly got up from the edge of the bed and smoothed out the wrinkles in your nightgown.

"That you should be careful who you put your trust in," she answered with a nod.

"Exactly. And now sleep well, my little one," you whispered to her before placing a gentle kiss on her forehead.

You were already halfway out the door and on your way back to your humble chambers to finally get some good sleep after your long day when you heard her voice again: "Do you... Do you think ghosts exist?"

You immediately stopped and turned to your charge, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. What strange questions she sometimes asked.

"Ghosts? They are a nice thought, are they not? Your parents and siblings are watching over you, Jaehaera. One way or another," you assured her with a nod of your head.

"Good night," she murmured, turning away from you, whereupon you sighed softly and closed the door behind you.

As you walked through the corridors, you occasionally nodded to one guard or another. They all seemed tired and as if they had seen too much. The war had left its mark on everyone.

Not paying attention to who might be passing you at this late hour, you suddenly bumped into someone.

"Forgive me," you said immediately, but the man simply nodded and disappeared around the next corner without another word.

It was not until several seconds later that you realized... that he had silver hair.

But that could not be true.

The only people in these halls who still had such features were the young royal couple, and they were already in bed.

Later, you told yourself that it must have just been a trick of the light. That the man's hair had simply been ash-blond. But as you looked around the Great Hall the next morning, as most people were getting breakfast or servants were getting it for their lords and ladies, you noticed that you did not see a man with ash-blond hair anywhere.

So who was this man?

You did not want to ask around. Not because you did not want to find out, but because you were not good at talking to people. Jaehaera was the exception because it was your job to take care of her and because she was an innocent child.

Most of the time, you just felt like everyone was judging you, even if you had not done anything wrong. You could feel their eyes on you, and you hated it. You never knew why. You had always been like that. Like the young Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, you too preferred to be alone. You were better off alone.

You firmly believed that you had only imagined this man. After all, you had been tired, and the girl had just said something about ghosts before you left her alone for the night.

It certainly would not happen again, you thought.

It had been two moons since you bumped into the silver-haired man that night. You had not seen him again. No sign, not even a hint.

By now, you were quite certain that your eyes had indeed been playing a trick on you. At least, that was what you thought until you suddenly saw him again.

It was one of the few days in which the young King Aegon III was supposed to listen to some of the people's petitions. Of course, he did not do this unsupervised. He actually just sat on the throne and greeted and bid farewell to the citizens of the Small Folk who spoke, while one or sometimes two council members did the actual speaking and made the important decisions.

Hidden in the shadows at the side of the throne room, a figure leaned against the cold, wet wall of the Red Keep. His skin was as pale as the snow falling in the north, his hair as silver as the moon, uncombed and falling to his shoulders. He wore a dark green doublet, which he left open. Beneath it, a blue shirt and black trousers were visible. His black boots were dirty, and a heavy gold chain hung around his neck.

No one seemed to notice him. No one spoke to him.

You could almost say he was not there at all.

But you saw him. You saw him, and you decided to approach him with quiet, cautious steps. He did not seem to notice you, and you had to gather all your strength to finally clear your throat.

"Excuse me?" you said quietly, careful to keep your voice low so the other men in the hall would not hear you. Their focus should remain entirely on the throne.

The silver-haired man—and even in this light, you could see that it was definitely silver, not just pale blond—turned slowly to you. His eyebrows were furrowed, and he looked like he had just seen a ghost.

Perhaps he was not used to being spoken to so simply?

"I think that we have met before," you spoke when he did not say anything. "Two months ago. I bumped into you in the night."

He blinked before something like recognition suddenly flashed in his violet eyes.

Violet eyes, silver hair, pale skin... was he a Targaryen?

Somehow, he even reminded you of Jaehaera. You could be wrong, of course, but they had almost the same eyes. Large, sad, and looking as if they carried the weight of the world on their shoulders.

"You…" he cleared his throat. "You remember?"

His voice was rough, as if he had not used it in a long time, and the look in his eyes was one of caution. You could not imagine why. You did not look like a princess or one of those fine ladies who took themselves too seriously. Your dress had hardly any embroidery, and your jewelry was silver, not gold. Unlike many others, pomp and wealth were not things that captivated you.

"I wanted to apologize again. It was late, and I was not looking. I hope you will forgive me," you explained your reasons for approaching him again.

He blinked and looked at you for a few seconds before finally nodding his head: "It is alright. Honestly, I also did not pay attention to where I was going."

You thought you remembered his gait being very purposeful, but you decided not to press the issue. He seemed to you like a man who, like a bat, avoided sunlight when it came.

"You do not look like someone who would make a request," you said with a tentative smile tugging at the corners of your mouth as you nodded your head toward the throne.

His lips parted slightly, and he turned slightly toward the monstrosity built so many years ago by Aegon the Conqueror himself. A true sign of royalty, and apparently, it also had a mind of its own. People still spoke of how steel rejected the false queen and accepted her half-brother Aegon. For many who witnessed the event, this had been a sign at the time.

"Believe me, my lady, I have many requests I could make. I merely do not wish to frighten our young king," he answered with a grin, which made your knees go weak for a moment.

"Why would the boy be afraid of you?" you asked him instead, genuine curiosity in your gentle tone.

The man in front of you simply shrugged and leaned back against the wall behind him. "I am not sure. I just have a feeling."

You nodded your head and looked at the small king sitting precariously on the Iron Throne, which was far too big for him and almost swallowed him. Silver hair, violet eyes, pale skin...

"Are you a Dragon Seed?" you asked him curiously, turning back to him, only to see that the man had disappeared.

You quickly scanned your path to the left and then to the right, but you found no sign of him anywhere. How could he have run away so quickly? You had not even heard footsteps. What was wrong with you?

Who in the Seven Hells was this man?

This question haunted you in your sleep for the next few weeks. With each passing day, you believed more and more that you were simply going mad. Sometimes you thought you could see him out of the corner of your eye, but whenever you turned around, there was nothing but cold air.

Even with Jaehaera, you found no peace. The little girl bore such a frightening resemblance to the stranger that you once accidentally asked her exactly how many brothers she used to have. It had been foolish and thoughtless of you, as she immediately turned away from you and disappeared into her chamber to cry instead.

She would not even accept your lemon cake as an apology, and she would not listen to any stories in the evening. In fact, she even forbade the guards from letting you in when you tried to wish her goodnight.

You felt terrible.

One afternoon, you summoned the courage to ask a member of the council what the former Targaryens had looked like. The answer you received was anything but satisfactory. They had only told you exactly what you already knew. Silver hair, pale skin, amethyst-colored eyes that sometimes varied in color and intensity, and one of them had an eye patch. You were aware of all of this.

The one person who could still help you was the Queen Mother, Alicent Hightower, but she was rather ill at the moment because she apparently had the flu.

So you were left empty-handed.

That was until you met him again one night. You were standing on the balcony of the chambers you had been assigned when you entered the Red Keep. They were apparently the old chambers of the mad Queen Helaena, who took her own life by jumping from Maegor's Holdfast.

At the time, you had asked why you had been assigned these chambers, since you were no one of great importance. After all, you came from a relatively unknown house, and your sole duty was to look after the queen. You had expected servants' quarters, not such opulence.

The moon stood high in the sky, bathing the world in a silver glow. Otherwise, the night was warm, and the sky was cloudless. It was peaceful.

It would have been so easy to find peace that night, but you found none.

Dressed in a pale green robe and a white nightgown, you leaned against the stone railing and looked down at the city below. Your hair fell in gentle waves down your back, and only now did you begin to understand how long you had been within these walls. When you left your home, your hair had fallen to your elbows, and now the ends touched your lower back.

Although the night was windless, you could suddenly feel a light layer of gooseflesh spreading across your arms and a chill running down your spine. There was really no reason for that until you suddenly heard the sound of heavy boots behind you.

You immediately turned around and gasped in alarm when you saw the silver-haired man who had been on your mind for months.

"By the gods! How did you get in here?" you asked him, placing a hand over your heart. It was racing as fast as a hummingbird's wings.

The stranger, who did not seem much older than you, seemed as surprised as you for a moment before he seemed to recover and straighten his shoulders.

"You doors were open," he said simply.

"No, they are not," you replied, letting your gaze sweep over him. You had never before considered whether he might be dangerous. You had been too fascinated by the mystery he represented.

A small laugh escaped him, and you could feel your heart clench for a moment.

"Oh, I am pretty sure they are," he said before leaning against the stone railing next to you and looking down at the city as if he were its king. He certainly looked like one.

Confused, you blinked and looked back down at King's Landing. Lights were still burning in some of the windows, but most seemed to be fast asleep. Of course, that did not apply to the residents of the Street of Silk, where life blossomed at night like you had never seen before. You had only been there once, and you did not want to repeat the experience.

"And why do you just walk into someone's chambers without even knocking first? Especially since it is the middle of the night! I could have been asleep already," you told him, and you could feel a shiver run down your spine at the thought.

Not because he might have seen you sleeping, but rather because you would not have known.

"Believe it or not, beautiful, I honestly have no idea."

You were about to respond when he turned back to you, and the expression on his face was so frighteningly real that it swallowed the words in your mouth.

The moonlight fell on his features in such a way that it made him seem almost inhuman. Divine, even. He looked like a fallen angel who did not know what path to take. He was beautiful in a way that was hard to put into words.

"Who are you?" you finally asked him that one question that had burned itself into your mind as if Balerion himself had enclosed you in his flames.

A smile played around the corners of his mouth, but it quickly disappeared. Instead, he turned back to the city, and a sigh escaped him. Soft and barely audible, but you heard it because it was otherwise eerily quiet. Other than your breathing, you could not hear a single sound.

"Trust me, you do not want to know," he finally answered.

A single gust of wind whizzed through the night, making the already tangled strands of his hair appear even tangler. It almost looked as if he had last combed it years ago.

"But I do," you replied, taking a step closer to him. Normally, that would have cost you a lot of courage, but that was the last thing on your mind. The only thing you wanted were answers.

"I do not wish to scare you," he said with a sigh. "You would not understand."

A huff of air escaped you: "Trust me, I understand a lot of things. I am not a foolish woman, for a change. I read a lot."

For a second, you thought you saw something like recognition in his gaze, but it vanished as quickly as waves come and go at the ocean.

"You are the one who takes care of my—I mean, the one who takes care of the queen, right?" he asked suddenly, at which you just blinked for a few seconds. That had been a particularly quick change of subject.

"I— Yes," you answered him with a nod of your head.

He nodded too, and while people danced and drank in the distance, the balcony of your chambers was enveloped in a silence that was not exactly unpleasant, but was not entirely pleasant either.

Too many questions remained unanswered for it to be pleasant.

"How is she?" he asked you, his voice sounding as if he knew so much more than he let on. He sounded vulnerable, almost sad.

At first, you wanted to ask him why he cared. The answer was already on the tip of your tongue, but you swallowed it down at the last moment. You did not want to fend him off. No, you just wanted to know more about him. About this beautiful, mysterious man who had been on your mind ever since the first moment.

"I cannot say. Sometimes she smiles, sometimes she cries, but mostly she is just quiet. I try to be a friend to her as best I can, and maybe even a kind of mother figure, but it is not easy."

Once again, he nodded his head, and you could see him slowly letting this information sink in, absorbing it. It seemed like it meant something to him. Like he knew her.

"I am grateful you are with her. If she were alone... she would fall apart from all this," his words were spoken with such certainty that you could be sure of one thing, too. He was not a stranger. He was exactly where he belonged. In these halls, in the Red Keep.

You took another step closer to him, until your elbows were almost touching. You expected to feel the warmth of his body, but as you stepped closer, you felt absolutely nothing. As if you were speaking to the air.

"Who are you?"

He opened his mouth to answer you when there was a sudden, frantic knock on your door. You stood there for a moment, but then reluctantly turned away from him and hurried to the door.

They were locked from the inside, as you said. There was no way he could have entered these chambers from the outside without you noticing.

Your hand trembled as you unlocked and opened the door, only to see Jaehaera standing before you. Barefoot, wearing only her nightgown, her hair loose.

"I had a nightmare," she said without you even having to ask.

You immediately crouched down and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. You were just glad she was talking to you again, even though you had made the mistake of asking her about her brothers.

But just as you were about to hug her to tell her that everything was fine and she did not need to be afraid, her eyes suddenly widened. You had never seen her like that before.

Without a word, she stormed past you and toward the balcony.

"Jaehaera!" you called after her and quickly jumped to your feet, almost tripping over the ends of your robe.

"Where is he?" she shrieked, causing you to look at her questioningly.

"Where is who?" you replied, and then you noticed that your mysterious stranger had once again disappeared without a trace. Again.

"Daddy! Where's Daddy!?" she cried, and you were at a loss.

"Daddy?" you repeated. "Sweetheart, your father is no longer with us. You know that."

But the little queen would not listen. She pointed to the spot where the silver-haired man had just been standing, and thick crocodile tears began to run down her soft cheeks.

"No, you do not understand, he was here! I just saw him! He was standing right here!"

The coin fell. You grabbed the edge of the door to keep from falling.

"By the gods..." you whispered, disbelief in your voice.

Jaehaera wept, and you understood.

The silver-haired man was not just anyone. It was Aegon II Targaryen, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men. And a man who should most certainly be dead.

Weeks passed, and you had not seen Aegon again. To protect Jaehaera, you told her that she probably saw a shadow coming from the curtains and that her mind was playing tricks on her. Of course, she would not accept that, and once again she ordered her guards that you were not allowed to enter her chambers.

She was angry and sad, and you understood why, even if you could not yet explain it all.

That afternoon, some of the tapestries were to be replaced. Many were more than ten years old, and the Small Council had decided to have new ones hung. In your opinion, any change was a good thing. They apparently still wanted to suppress the past—the war that had been less than two years ago—as best they could.

Because the queen did not want to see you, you helped removing the tapestries in one of the castle's many corridors. Thank the Seven, you did not have to hang any of the new ones, because that would have required a ladder, but it felt good to tear the old ones off the wall.

Simply doing something violently helped you release some of the frustration that had been building up inside you over the past weeks and months, like a gigantic wave that threatened to bury you at any moment.

"Just coming and going, ridiculous," you muttered, while you tore one of the tapestries off the wall, which clearly depicted a sexual position. Like the other ten that were already scattered on the floor. "I mean, yes, he was the king, but that is still pathetic, is it not? Oh, who am I kidding? The man is a ghost. He can come and go as he pleases."

"If I did not know you are talking about me, I would have said you were very angry about a lover," a familiar voice suddenly spoke behind you, and you froze completely.

Slowly, you turned to him, still holding the tapestry. Aegon the Elder was standing not far in front of you, leaning against the wall with a grin on his lips that almost took your breath away.

"Ever done that?" he asked teasingly, pointing at the red carpet motif.

Your eyes widened and you looked down at the motif. It showed a woman twisting in a very unnatural way, pleasuring a man while another sat between her thighs.

"What do you take me for?" you quickly retorted, heat flooding your cheeks, turning them the color of a ripe apple.

A laugh escaped him, loud and genuine, and for the first time, you saw his eyes sparkle. He seemed happy.

"I am only jesting, my dear. I did not expect you to be involved in such activities before. Although... are you married?" he asked curiously, glancing down at the motif on the carpet for a while longer, as if fascinated by it.

The way he licked his lips made your heart leap in your chest, and you quickly tossed the tapestry to the others already scattered on the floor. His smile turned into a pout.

"No, I am not married yet," you said, and immediately he beamed from ear to ear again.

"Something any man likes to hear."

Without being able to stop yourself, you raised your eyebrows and crossed your arms. "Oh yeah? And what about ghosts? Do they like to hear that too?"

The radiant sparkle left his eyes for a moment, and instead he sighed and turned away from you to take another closer look at the remaining tapestries that adorned the walls. You followed him without saying a word.

Suddenly, a chuckle escaped him, which sounded like music to your ears.

"I tried that! Before you ask: No, it didn't work," he explained, pointing with his outstretched arm at a particularly bold motif.

"Oh..." was all he got in response from you.

Then you cleared your throat in what you hoped was a good attempt to change the subject: "You seem so happy today, Aegon."

He did not turn to you, but you could see his shoulders tense for a moment before finally relaxing. "You know my name."

"I have told you before and I will tell you again. I am no fool, Your Grace," you said, sounding perhaps a little more serious than necessary. "She saw you."

"I know," he shrugged. "And that is exactly why I was with her just a moment ago."

Your eyes widened and your mouth opened and closed for a few seconds, like a fish's.

"You—you were with her? With Jaehaera?" you asked, just to be sure.

Aegon continued down the corridor, and from the way he walked, you could sense what he had been like when he was alive. Lively, playful, and perhaps a little arrogant.

You would have liked to have known him when he was still among the living.

"I just said that. Yes, I was with her. We talked, and I was able to tell her some things I did not get a chance to."

"I hope you gave her a long embrace, because she deserves it. You are her father," you said, letting your eyes roam over him. He looked so real. As if you only had to reach out and you could touch him.

You could see the Adam's apple moving in his throat as he tried to swallow the lump in his throat. He seemed so human, so alive, that you wanted to pull him into the throne room and show everyone that the king was still alive and that there was no reason to treat two war-torn children like puppets.

"Believe me when I tell you, I would have loved to. But I cannot."

"You cannot? What does that mean?" you asked him cautiously, yet still curiously.

Aegon did not answer with words, but simply held out his hand, as if he were asking you to dance. Slowly, you raised yours as well and extended it. Your fingers could almost touch; you even imagined to briefly feel the warmth of his skin, but where flesh and bone should have been, there was nothing but air. Your hand simply slid through yours.

Your shoulders slumped, and for a moment, your eyes filled with tears. Here stood Aegon, former king, caught between life and death.

"But at least I do not look like a roasted chicken anymore," he jested, trying to lighten the mood a bit.

You tilted your head, but he was already explaining before you could even ask the question: "My brother pretty much set me on fire with Vhagar. My whole left side was burned, my leg was useless, and my cock did not work either anymore."

"Your— Oh. I am sorry, Aegon," you said, wrapping your arms around yourself, not knowing what else to do with them.

You had once heard that the king loved wine and women more than anything else and spent more time on the Street of Silk than in his castle. So it must have been terrible for him to suddenly no longer be able to do the things he loved most. And sex, after all, can be very liberating in stressful times.

"Oh, never mind, dove," he sighed, shrugging as if it did not matter to him, but you could see the pain was still there, lingering. "I am over it."

"No, you are not," you said with a smile.

"Guilty," he grinned, turning around. "Where are you from, anyway?"

"House Butterwell of Whitewalls," you murmured, unsure whether you wanted him to hear it or not. Your house was not one of those that immediately conjures up images of a large castle and riches as far as the eye can see. No, quite the opposite.

The silver-haired man, whose name you now knew, tilted his head, and you could see him thinking hard. "My dear, I have to disappoint you, but I have never heard of your house."

"I know," you said simply, shaking your head as a gentle blush rose in your cheeks. "That is what most people say when they ask me, which admittedly are not many."

But the former king simply shrugged and reached out as if to brush a stray strand of hair from your face, but his hand slid through you once again. Disappointment settled in your stomach.

A part of you wished he could touch you. You wanted to know how his hands would feel on your skin, if his lips were as soft as they looked, and if his fingers would be warm or cold.

These thoughts were dangerous, but you could not hold them back anymore. Just like the feelings that blossomed within you and were directed at him. A ghost.

But he smiled, and you knew you were lost.

From that day on, you spent almost every single day with him. Sometimes Jaehaera was even there, but often you were alone.

He often came in the evenings, when most of the lords and ladies had already gone to sleep and you were wrapped in a comfortable nightgown. You would spend hours telling each other things. Sometimes from your own lives, sometimes they were completely irrelevant and had nothing to do with you or him at all.

Aegon now knew everything about you. He knew your favorite wine, your favorite color, silly childhood memories you had confided in him, as well as your dreams and desires. You knew his entire life. His difficult childhood, his youth drowned in wine and women, and his adulthood, which had been no less difficult.

In a short time, you had grown more fond of him than any other man you had met before, and Aegon was sure—for once in his life—that he knew what love felt like.

He did not say the words, and neither did you, but somehow you both knew.

You could feel it in the way he was always there exactly when you needed him, and he knew it in the way you looked at him. As if he had personally hung the stars in the sky and made them shine just for you.

You had resigned yourself to the fact that he could not touch you. If he wanted to, he would say so instead. Imagine me placing my hand on yours and squeezing gently.

He calls you dove. You call him king.

And when he was with you, the world seemed to be in order, even if you could not explain it.

That was until the first letter reached you. Your presence at court had attracted the attention of other houses and their sons. All of them were alliances that should be considered. All of them would give your house a bigger name and fortune, and your father would be able to provide more for the citizens. Your house would finally gain prominence.

Your father and mother were excited and happy, expecting you to make a suitable choice. A charming young man who would marry you and to whom you could give heirs. The fate of so many young ladies.

They could not have known that your heart had long since been taken, and that the only man you wanted and with whom you could imagine a life was no one who could make all this possible for them.

For the man you loved was long gone.

He found you sobbing in your chambers. You were sitting at the foot of the bed, a cup of wine in one hand and a letter in the other.

He was no fool.

You were a beautiful woman and of marriageable age. It was only a matter of time before the first men crawled out of their holes to feast on you.

It was not fair. But what in this world was fair anymore?

"Who is it?" he asked you in a calm voice, hoping he could reassure you.

"I don't know," you sobbed. "Some Lord Manderly."

He knew the name, but it probably would not be the old man he was thinking about. That would make the marriage proposal almost insulting. You were in the prime of your life, and that old fart already had one foot in the grave. The bastard.

"Aegon?" Your gentle voice pulled him out of the raging thoughts he was currently trapped in.

"What is it, sweetling?"

"Do not be mad. I will not choose Manderly anyway. My father at least gave me the freedom to choose one of the men. All that matters to him is that I choose at all," you explained, wiping the salty wetness of your already shed tears from your cheeks.

A long sigh escaped the Ghost King before he unceremoniously plopped down on the bed next to you, burying his face in the soft sheets.

Your scent clung to them, and he wished he could just lean against you, hold you in his arms, and promise you that no one would ever take you away from him.

You smelled of freedom, of wildflowers, and fresh soap. Apparently, you had bathed just an hour or two ago.

"And look, my king. Jaehaera will need her nursemaid until she is at least fourteen summers old. That is still a while, and I do not think she would let someone replace me," you said, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Aegon froze.

Your eyes widened.

Your hand was on his shoulder. It did not just move through it, it was on him. Warm and alive.

Aegon did not hesitate for a second, but sat up and reached for your hand, squeezing it gently, as he had said so many times he would.

"You... You can—"

"Touch," he finished for you.

Not a second later, his lips were pressed against yours, his hands on your cheeks, his thumb rubbing small circles into your soft, flushed skin.

His lips were warm, soft, and so alive that you could feel the first tear rolling down your cheek. Then the second, and then the third.

"Don't cry," he murmured against your mouth before teasing your tongue with yours.

"You are crying too, Aegon," you replied, and you heard him chuckle softly.

You leaned back to catch your breath, but he was whining and trying to press another kiss against your lips, but you placed a finger on his lips to stop him.

"How is that possible?" you asked him with a genuinely happy smile on your lips.

"I have no idea, dove. But if I do know one thing, it is that I want to enjoy this evening to the fullest," he answered, his arms wrapping around your waist.

"To the fullest, you say? What about my suitors?"

The grin on his handsome face only widened before he buried his head in the crook of your neck.

"Forget them. Your king commands it."

He pressed a kiss against the sensitive skin of your neck, and you knew he was right.

For one evening, real life could rest. For one evening, the line between life and death had been blurred, and you had never been happier.

And Aegon knew this might be the last night he would ever touch, which is why he vowed to savor it to the last second.

Until he was no more.

The Dividers are from the wonderful @zaldritzosrose !

Taglist: @bey0nd-1he-stars @sassypain @hisfavegirl @dahaenatargaryen @sylasthegrim @danytar

[world-of-wales]

THE 'DUCHY DAY' WITH THE 25TH DUKE OF CORNWALL! [1/2]

On a sunny field on the outskirts of Bath, there is a loud pop of a sparkling-wine cork. “I thought you’d never ask,” says the Prince of Wales, grinning and accepting a glass of fizz from the vineyard stretching out in front of him, on Duchy of Cornwall farmland.

He asks local producers questions about soil type, the weather and the history of the land before taking a sip and proclaiming it “lovely” and “very discreet”, at the start of a day that will go on as pleasantly as it began.

For Prince William, this is not just an outing in the peace and quiet of the countryside. He is here in his role as Duke of Cornwall, head of the estate he inherited the moment his grandmother died in 2022.

Vast, complex, and spanning 128,494 acres of land across 20 counties, the Duchy takes in both rural and urban life, and the priorities under its 25th Duke – William – range from ending homelessness to restoring rivers. He wants to use it as another “branch of his philanthropy”, he tells me: existing for “social impact” rather than as an old-style financial resource to be drawn from.

The Prince tries to visit part of the Duchy once every four to six weeks, working his way through its farms and offices to meet families and staff, shake hands and quiz them on what he can do to help. His visits are usually private, rarely making the Court Circular and kept quiet by loyal locals who are used to royal comings and goings.

In the middle of May, Kensington Palace granted a rare exception, giving permission for The Telegraph to join the Prince on a “Duchy day” for the first time since he took it over.

It has been six years since theuly first spent on the farm with Prince William. Then, he was in the apprentice role, shadowing his father, and modestly telling farmers, “I’ll try my best.” Now, he is fully in the driving seat, lit up with ideas on how to make his mark and, in his words, change the lives of those who live in his Duchy for the better.

He is, unmistakably, a man on a mission: to reform his Duchy so it is fit for 2025 and beyond; a “positive force for good” that will actively “make people’s lives better”. “We’re not the traditional landowner,” he tells me. “We want to be more than that.”

“There is so much good we can do,” he says.

He ends the day with a longer to-do list than when he started, and takes home a bottle of home-grown Duchy apple juice. He will have to drink it, he jokes, before his children can get their hands on it.

WHAT IS THE DUCHY?

For an estate that dates back to 1337, established by Edward III to generate private income for his then seven-year-old heir, the Duchy of Cornwall is geographically huge. Officially it exists to fund the life and work of the Duke of Cornwall and his family, which also goes towards running the Kensington Palace operation and paying staff – and passes to the next generation intact: the Duke’s role is as steward of the land.

As with other landowners, tenants pay rent to the Duchy, and there are commercial leases and market-rate deals with public bodies for properties on estate land. The Prince pays voluntary income tax with annual accounts reported to Parliament and oversight from the Treasury.

As of now, it has a new strap-line: “Positive impact for people, places and planet.” The “people” part is seen as mission-critical, including a heavy focus on solving homelessness, supporting the mental health of farmers, and arranging get-togethers to combat rural loneliness.

More than 150 people work across its eight offices, under the leadership of new secretary Will Bax and, ultimately, Prince William. Its largest landholdings are in Devon. The estate spans land from Herefordshire and Wales to Kent, inner-city London, the Isles of Scilly, sections of rivers in Dartmoor, Cornish beaches up to the high-tide line, and Plymouth Harbour.

Tintagel Castle, Cornwall :

It remains most famous for the Duchy Originals organic food line established by the then Prince Charles in 1990. Though it is now owned by Waitrose (and called Duchy Organic), the estate’s annual report warns it could still be muddled in the public imagination.

Since Prince William stepped into the role of Duke of Cornwall, he has embarked on a careful but wholesale stocktake of what is working and what is not. He wants to “dig deeply” to get a “true feel for what the Duchy is doing”, he tells me now, “trying to just go through with a fine-tooth comb”.

“The Duchy has been a positive force for good, but we can do so much more. I think the key thing is, it’s about not losing the important community and historical links of the Duchy. But it’s also about making sure we’re building on and enhancing, modernising the Duchy. We’re going to modernise it without losing its key spirit of community.”

"it’s going to take a bit of time” – likening updating the 700-year-old Duchy to “turning a tanker” – but he is determined to shift the focus away from the revenue-raising of old to put “social impact” at the centre. He chairs a quarterly meeting of The Prince’s Council, attending numerous other committees. He sends questions to staff and chases answers via WhatsApp on any given day.

THE VISIT :

On that mid-May day, the Prince arrives at Corston Fields Farm full of apologies. He is slightly late, after a train journey to Bath so delayed that the words “rail replacement service” were mentioned.

The farm, run by self-described “farmer and farmer’s husband” Emily and Eddie Addicott-Sauvao, is an exemplar of Duchy life: Emily’s parents have been tenants since 1982 (“the same year I was born”, William notes), and their two daughters now lend a hand with pruning. They have diversified into growing quinoa and a line in high-end events at the vineyard including food, wine and music pairing. Their award-winning Minerva sparkling wine, which the Prince tries, is priced at £120.

“We’ve chosen the right day for it,” he says, as the sun blazes and swallows fly in blue skies over- head. “Beautiful.”

The Prince notices everything.

“What’s this here?” he wonders, spotting wool from a scratching sheep at the bottom of a couple of the vines, and hears how the Romans used to grow similar grapes 2,000 years ago in the fields nearby. Like all farmers, he is preoccupied by the weather: it has been dry and he wants to know how it will affect their harvest.

He quizzes Rosa, 13, and Charlotte, 10, on what they like about living in the countryside (“you’ve got to get muddy haven’t you, that’s critical”), and tells them about his daughter of the same name.

He is particularly interested in the “community days” the couple host at the farm, where locals come, get their hands dirty helping out and meeting their neighbours, before being rewarded with lunch.

Asked what the Duchy can do to help their day-to-day lives as tenants, patriarch Gerald Addicott teases the Prince that he could make it “rent-free”.

“You’re not the first person to say that,” laughs William, adding – apparently semi-seriously – that he questioned whether he could do just that when he took over, and “got a lot of sweaty faces” responsible for balancing the books looking back at him.

Having spent the past few years speaking to farmers, he has concerns about how best to convince the public of the quality and benefits of locally grown, sustainably produced food.

“There is a huge problem here and I haven’t got an answer,” he says of how to recognise the work of British farmers amid cheap supermarket food and the “generalised” approach of the “mass retailers”. “We keep asking more and more of our farmers but you don’t necessarily get any benefits back on top of everything you have to do.”

Figuring out whether the Duchy can help to promote its small producers is on his to-do list. Staff, are used to receiving a follow-up call or message after each of these visits.

When Emily raises her own concerns about the lack of rural skills being taught in schools, the Prince nods. “We keep talking about the importance of being outside in nature but we don’t always give the jobs,” he says. “These jobs where you have that time in nature and think, ‘I enjoy it, I’m loving this.’ The opportunities need to be there in schools.”

By now, Matthew Morris, the rural director of the Duchy of Cornwall, who is tasked with keeping the Prince vaguely to schedule today, is trying to catch William’s attention with an eye on the ticking clock.

He has worked for the Duchy for six years, with both the now King Charles and Prince William. He notes cheerfully that staff no longer feel the need to put on a tie when the Duke of Cornwall is in town.

THE BOSS

It is a cliché to say that the Prince is in his element, but he is. After a period he has described as “probably the hardest year of my life”, he is as relaxed as I have seen him in a long time.

Without the usual press pack travelling with him, he is freer to speak and laughs easily, standing with hands in his pockets and visibly thrilled when he gets the chance to tease one of his team. He is delighted to hear that the office dog barks at Bax (“perhaps it’s the beard”).

His passion for all he can do at the Duchy is infectious. “He’s easy to follow because he’s got great conviction and personality, and he really wears his heart on his sleeve in terms of social interest and his desire to have a positive impact in the world,” says Bax.

The Prince is “pretty demanding”, he concedes – quickly clarifying “that’s great” – with a “pretty ambitious” outlook. Part of the job is amplifying others: “seeing the spark and getting the bellows out”.

Ben Murphy, estate director, describes the relationship between Duke and Duchy as its leader “laying down the challenge and it’s for us to figure out how to address it”. Prince William has a “healthy impatience, as his father did”, which “puts the wind in our sails; he really cares”, Murphy adds.

Henry Meacock, the chief executive of homelessness charity St Petrocs, is partnering with the estate on its first housing project with wraparound care to break the cycle of homelessness, with the initial phase due to be complete by the end of this year, and a policy of “blind tenure” meaning that private renters in Cornwall will live alongside social and supported housing. Prince William “is personally driving the timetable”, he says. “He would like to deliver more and quicker.”

In other words, he is putting his money where his mouth is. “He’s personally invested in the project and personally investing as well.”

The work, which is largely invisible to the public, is done alongside the day job of public engagements undertaken as Prince of Wales, passion projects such as The Earthshot Prize and Homewards, and responsibilities including investitures and overseas travel representing his father and the Government.

THE VISION

Since taking over, Prince William has incorporated much of the work he has been doing elsewhere in his royal life.

Nansledan, a new community being built as an extension to Newquay, will be the site of the aforementioned 24 homes dedicated to supporting people experiencing homelessness. The build will use low-carbon materials developed by one of his Earthshot Prize finalists.

On family holidays to the Isles of Scilly, where he, the Princess of Wales, Prince George, Princess Charlotte and Prince Louis stay on Tresco, William got into the habit of quizzing residents about what would improve their lives. As a result, a new health and social care facility includes a modern maternity suite, there will be designated key-worker housing to encourage teachers and doctors to stay, and a strategy to make tourism more sustainable.

Elsewhere, there are hopes of reviving Cornish high streets and transforming Kennington communities.

On the rural side, the Duchy will create 50 hectares (or 70 football pitches’ worth) of new woodland per year, restore damaged peatland as part of a major “Dartmoor vision” project, and take tenants on the “journey” to net zero by 2032.

It has already returned water voles to the rivers in Cornwall.

“I see the Duchy as an extension of the work we do with the Royal Foundation,” says William.

While the Foundation, the main charitable vehicle of the Prince and Princess of Wales, has worked traditionally in urban areas, on topics including homelessness, mental health and child development, the Duchy can extend it to the countryside.

“I see it as a branch of my philanthropy. There’s so much good we can do in the rural world. I see it [the Duchy] as another arm to the work that I want to do, which is being a positive force for good. I think the Duchy have got way more levels and gears they can go through to be able to be a bigger force in the community.” He said.

The Prince and his staff tend to use the same language when asked about his personal ambitions: impact, vision, scale. “He’s a man on a mission,” confirms Will Bax. “He’s asking us to change and evolve in a way to deliver positive impact at scale and at pace.”

'While the Duchy has rural communities and environmental stewardship in its DNA, the new era will see some subtle differences including a focus on people, creating a really strong safety net for the vulnerable in society, and doubling down on the environmental agenda”.

To stewardship – “that idea of leaving something better than you found it” – they hope to add leader-ship: “Not being a benign presence but being a presence that is willing to lead on issues that we care about.” The Duchy will also shout more about its achievements.

“The Duchy has perhaps been a slightly discreet organisation that hasn’t really put its head above the parapet very much, that hasn’t spoken very publicly about what’s important to us and what we’re here to achieve, And we’re seeking to remove any ambiguity and ensure people understand that our objective is to deliver positive impact for people, for places and the planet.” he says

While Prince William cannot enter the political arena, with Bax confirming there is a “fine line between politics and policy”, the Duchy is nevertheless “seeking to find our voice where we think we can represent sensible, balanced views on issues that affect our communities”.

“The Duchy in the past I think has been cautious in that space,” Bax continues. “We’ll continue to be cautious but we won’t continue to be voiceless.”

https://www.telegraph.co.uk/royal-family/2025/05/30/prince-william-exclusive-duchy-cornwall-bring-real-change/

[nortonwifey]

HAPPY MINJUN JIGEN DAAAAYYYYY AAUUUUUUYYY

happy minjig day <3

[whirlwindstars]

It's time to continue analysing Enjolras' speech! (if you missed part 1, here it is)

LE CABUC - 1964 VERSION (part 2)

A shift in the monologue

The screenwriter decided to add part of a second dialogue Enjolras has on the barricade later that day, where he talks about the purpouse their fight will have for the future of France.

In the book the monologue explores the same theme of waiting for a better world, which the XXth Century is supposed to bring. An almost religious feeling, as the Future is a new Coming that will bring peace for humankind.

Well, these two are having a moment...

Also, I love Enjolras' praise of Feuilly was added as well!

"Listen to me, you, Feuilly, valiant artisan, man of the people. I revere you. [...] You had neither father nor mother, Feuilly; you adopted humanity for your mother and right for your father." (V-I-V)

I'm not going to show the entire second part of the monologue, because it is pretty long, so instead I'm focusing on its finale, because of the impactful lines chosen here.

"Brothers, he who dies here dies in the radiance of the future, and we are entering a tomb all flooded with the dawn." (V-I-V)

And, with that, the scene is over

No, it's not!

Grantaire is back and has something to say!

I think this scene can be open to plenty of interpretations. Primarily, it show us the sparkle that ignites him, that light he's searching for.

This is a nod to a cut chapter in volume four, which gives more context to the entire scene. Grantaire is drunk and begs Enjolras to stay, even though he's not going to fight for the cause like anybody else.

" 'Grantaire,' he [Enjolras] shouted, 'go get rid of the fumes of your wine somewhere else than here. This is the place for enthusiasm, not for drunkenness. Don’t disgrace the barricade!' ” (IV-XII-III)

However, the writing of Grantaire so far has been exceptionally good, considering characters like him are often cut or changed when adapting a book such as this. They did a good job with the way Grantaire is described and with the way they have highlighted what (or better, who) he stands for.

[hellsatanwelcomeyearzero]

VELVET INFERNO

Papa Emeritus III x Female Reader (OC - Red)

READ IT ON AO3

CHAPTER I. | CHAPTER II. | CHAPTER III. | CHAPTER IV. | CHAPTER V.

Chapter 6. SATIN ROBES

The grand dining hall of the Ministry was a cathedral of shadows and flickering candlelight. Long tables draped in deep crimson cloth stretched beneath vaulted ceilings carved with ancient symbols. The air was heavy with incense and murmurs, the weight of tradition pressing in from every corner.

At the head of the hall, the High Clergy gathered around their imposing table...Primo, Secondo, Sister, and the enigmatic Papa Nihil. Not far from them, the Cardinals occupied a nearby table, their presence a constant reminder of the Ministry’s far-reaching influence.

Sister, radiant in her austere form, stood gracefully beside Nihil, a sly smile curving her lips as she introduced him to the band.

“This is Papa Nihil,” she said, voice clear and warm. “Our... enigmatic leader.”

Nihil’s dark eyes swept over the group with mischievous amusement, lingering on Terzo with a teasing glint.

“Ah, Papa Terzo,” Nihil purred in a low, playful tone. “So shy in front of your guests? Or perhaps... un po’ intimorito?” (A bit scared?) He chuckled softly. “It’s okay, figlio mio (my son) - I’m only teasing.”

Terzo shifted slightly, his usual composure flickering as Nihil’s eyes bored into him. A faint smirk touched his lips, but he said nothing.

Nihil’s gaze then slid over to Red, sharp and appraising, eyes sparkling with wicked delight.

“And you must be the famous leader - Red,” he said smoothly, voice dripping with dark charm. “Bella, feroce, e pericolosamente talentuosa.” (Beautiful, fierce, and dangerously talented.) He gave her a slow, appraising nod. “Your reputation does not lie.”

The band exchanged glances. Steve raised an eyebrow, Rowan chuckled softly, and Gabriel’s expression darkened with interest.

Nihil’s attention then turned casually toward the Sisters of Sin seated nearby - the nuns whose presence was as electrifying as it was unsettling. Their eyes gleamed under the dim light, and a few exchanged subtle, knowing smiles.

The band’s eyes followed Nihil’s gaze, and suddenly, the atmosphere shifted. Murmurs of excitement buzzed just beneath the surface.

Rowan leaned toward Gabriel, whispering, “Those Sisters... they’re trouble.”

Steve’s grin widened. “And we’re about to find out just how much.”

Sister caught the exchange and gave a soft, almost conspiratorial nod.

Nihil’s voice dropped to a near whisper, filled with dark amusement. “You’ll soon see why this Ministry is unlike any place you’ve ever been.” He glanced around, voice rising with theatrical flair. “La notte è giovane, (the night is young) and the game... is just beginning.”

Terzo finally spoke, voice calm but edged with steel. “Enough games. Let us eat, and prepare for what’s to come.”

The feast began - rich foods, fine wines... but the undercurrent of tension and unspoken challenges lingered like a shadow over the table.

Terzo glanced at Red constantly. Subtle, but not subtle enough.

She felt the weight of his gaze like static on her skin - tingling, distracting, impossible to ignore. Every time she dared to look up, she caught the end of a glance, the twitch of a smirk, and the burn of those mismatched eyes quickly turned elsewhere.

It made her stomach twist.

She barely touched the food. The lavish spread before her - roasted meats, delicate portions of pasta, fragrant vegetables drizzled with oil and herbs - blurred into background noise. Her fork lingered in her hand, unmoving. Appetite? Gone. Her nerves were louder.

She took a sip of wine just to ground herself, but even the burn down her throat felt too aware.

Terzo didn’t say much, not yet. But every sideways glance, every lingering pause before he answered someone’s question, every tilt of his head toward her direction - it all said enough.

And Red… didn’t know what to do with it.

Night draped the Ministry in velvet silence.

Terzo couldn't sleep.

He had tried...God, he had tried. Stretched out in the dark of his papal suite, silk sheets tangled around him like restraints, eyes shut tight as if willing himself into rest. But it was no use. His blood burned. His body pulsed with something raw and unspeakable.

He shifted again, fingers flexing against the mattress.

Red haunted him.

Her eyes. Her voice. That nervous flutter when he looked at her for too long. The way she barely touched her food. The way her lip had caught briefly between her teeth when Sister Imperator introduced her to Nihil. That flicker of discomfort, of curiosity, of something unspoken. It was seared into his mind.

He dragged a hand through his hair and let out a low groan, almost feral. “Che dannazione...” (Hell’s damnation...)

And then...his phone. Her profile. Again. Scrolling. Staring. Reeling. One photo: backstage, sweat on her brow, eyeliner smudged, middle finger raised to the camera. Another: moonlight on her bare shoulder, black lace straps visible, eyes hooded, lips parted just slightly. He exhaled like he’d been punched.

His hand gripped the edge of the mattress.

Meanwhile…

Red tossed and turned under the soft sheets of her dorm room. The jet lag clung to her bones like fog, heavy and relentless. She had hoped the wine at dinner would sedate her, but her thoughts were louder than exhaustion. Thoughts of the Ministry. Of that dinner. Of him.

She let out a quiet breath and turned to her side again.

The room was still, wrapped in the hush of holy halls, broken only by the ticking of the small, ornate clock on the dresser.

1:03 AM.

She sat up slowly, groggy and defeated.

Her bare feet met the cold stone floor with a soft hiss. The chill snuck up her legs as she reached for her robe - black satin, smooth and cool against her skin. She tied it loosely at the waist and stepped out into the hallway.

Maybe a walk would help.

Maybe breathing air that wasn’t thick with dreams and prophecy would pull her down from the edge of whatever this strange gravity was.

The halls were dimly lit with flickering candle sconces, shadows stretching long across the tapestries and ancient stone. The Ministry felt older at night. Sacred. Haunted.

She padded quietly past the Cardinal Table’s empty banquet room, her eyes tracing the golden trim of the corridor like a lifeline.

She didn’t know where she was going.

But something...someone was already awake.

Red turned another corner in the dimly lit corridor, the soft pads of her bare feet nearly silent on the cold stone floor. The satin robe swayed around her thighs, the black fabric catching occasional glints from the flickering wall sconces. Her sense of direction, usually sharp, was dulled by exhaustion - and something else. Restlessness. Heat. An ache she couldn’t name.

She stopped, rubbed her temple. “Of course I got lost,” she whispered to herself, glancing around the empty hallway. “Stupid Ministry and its gothic maze.”

She looked up...and froze.

A door creaked open ahead of her. Slowly. Silently. Like it had been expecting her.

Papa Terzo stepped out, barefoot as well, his papal robes replaced by a dark undershirt and loose black pants, his Grucifix still glinting faintly at his chest. His hair was tousled, and his eyes - mismatched, inhuman burned with something that made her breath catch.

He stopped when he saw her.

And for a few seconds, the silence crackled.

“Perseverare, anima mia?” (Persevere, my soul) he asked softly, a small smirk rising to his lips. “Wandering the halls of the damned, or just... lost?”

Red blinked. “I… couldn’t sleep.”

“Neither could I.”

He stepped forward, slowly, as though approaching something wild and fragile. His eyes flicked down, lingering briefly... too briefly - at the sliver of bare thigh visible through the opening in her robe.

“You’re far from your wing,” he murmured. “This part of the Ministry is... reserved.”

“I know,” she replied, her voice barely audible.

“But here you are anyway.”

Her pulse hammered in her neck.

He took another step. “Do you always sleep dressed like that?”

She crossed her arms on instinct - then immediately regretted it as it only drew more attention to the robe’s deep neckline. “I wasn’t planning on company.”

Terzo tilted his head, his eyes impossibly dark despite their mismatched hues. “Then it is I who should apologize.”

A pause.

Then, his voice dropped an octave.

“…Or thank whatever force kept me awake tonight.”

Red exhaled sharply, unsure if it was a laugh or a warning.

“I thought the Ministero had rules,” she said, keeping her voice cool.

“It does,” he said, almost too quickly. “And I wrote most of them.”

Another step. They were closer now - shadows meeting, energy shifting.

“You’re not wearing shoes,” she noted, like it would somehow anchor her spinning thoughts.

He smiled. “Neither are you.”

She took a shaky breath, suddenly all too aware of how thin her robe was. Of how she could feel the air against her thighs. Of the way his eyes softened, then darkened again.

“I should get back,” she said, finally.

“Should you?”

She opened her mouth. No words came out.

He stepped aside, gesturing lightly toward his door - not an invitation, not quite. Just a dare.

But Red didn’t move.

She couldn’t.

Then his voice came low, close to a whisper. “This corridor is very old, you know. It has seen confessions. Desires. Secrets.”

Her eyes met his.

“Is that what this is?” she asked, heat rising in her chest. “A secret?”

Terzo smiled again - slower, darker.

“It could be.”

Silence stretched between them, wrapped in candlelight and breathlessness.

Then, finally, he nodded once, as if releasing her from a spell.

“Buona notte, Red.”

She hesitated.

“Goodnight, Papa.”

She turned, heart racing, and walked back the way she came... never looking back, but feeling his gaze burn into her skin the entire way.

And behind her, Terzo remained still, jaw clenched, fists tight, like a man holding back a storm.

Later that night…

Terzo lay flat on his back in bed, one arm over his forehead, staring at the ceiling like it had wronged him. The silk sheets felt too hot. The air too cold. Every inch of him buzzed - with tension, with want, with frustration.

“La puttana miseria…” (fucking hell) he groaned, turning to the side for the twelfth time. “Why… why did she come out dressed like that?”

He squeezed his eyes shut.

Her bare legs… that robe barely tied… that scent… Dio mio, have mercy.

Of course, mercy was a rare commodity in the Ministry.

He sat up suddenly, pushing the sheets off with a grunt.

“That’s it,” he muttered, raking his fingers through his hair. “I’m going to lose my mind.”

A beat.

Then he stood, grabbed the silk robe hanging on the hook, and stormed out of his room like a man possessed.

She tossed and turned, the sheets twisted around her legs. Her eyes stung with exhaustion, but her mind wouldn’t let her rest.

That damn corridor moment replayed in her head like a scene from a forbidden film. The way he’d looked at her. How his voice had dropped. His scent. His breath.

A knock at the door startled her.

She sat up fast. “Hello?”

A brief silence, then...

“…È me.”

Her heart jumped. “Terzo?”

“Yes. Can I… may I come in?”

She hesitated, tightening her robe. Then padded to the door and opened it just enough to see him. Barefoot. Tousled hair. The black silk robe falling open at his chest. Eyes soft, yet burning.

“You alright?” she whispered.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he admitted, voice lower than usual. “And I figured maybe… you couldn’t either.”

She opened the door fully and stepped aside.

Once inside, he took a slow look around her small, warm space. A few books. A suitcase half-unpacked. A black cat figurine on the desk.

When she sat on the edge of the bed, he followed - perching beside her with uncharacteristic caution.

“You’re shaking,” he noticed quietly.

She gave a weak smile. “It’s nothing. Just… jet lag.”

She blinked at that. He wasn’t mocking. There was no playfulness behind the words - just concern. Real, raw concern.

“Something happened today,” he said gently. “At dinner. I saw it in your face. In your hands. You were somewhere else entirely. What was it?”

Red looked down at her hands, fingers threading nervously together in her lap.

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” she whispered. “It sounds ridiculous.”

“I like ridiculous,” he murmured. “Try me.”

A breath. Then another.

And finally, she began.

“Last year… I was in New Orleans. I’d just lost someone close to me. Everything felt… heavy. I didn’t believe in much anymore. But I walked into this little shop in the French Quarter. Smelled of incense and dust. The woman inside - she was old, with these storm-colored eyes. She didn’t ask me for my name. Didn’t ask anything. Just stared at me and said: ‘Your soulmate isn’t here yet. He will come with black hair, one green eye, and one white eye. You’ll know him because you’ll feel like you’ve met in another life. He will terrify you. But he will also save you.’”

Red paused.

Slowly, she turned her head toward him.

Her voice softened. “And then there’s you.”

Terzo’s breath caught.

His fingers twitched against the sheets.

“Black hair,” she said, almost with a smile.

“One green eye,” her voice lowered, gaze lingering on his left eye.

“And one white one,” she added, her gaze drifting to the right.

Silence.

She didn’t need to explain how that detail... so absurdly specific - had gripped her since the moment she saw him on the Ministry.

Terzo finally spoke, but his voice was different. Hoarse. Fragile.

“I scare you?”

She hesitated. “Yes.”

A pause.

“But not in the way you think.”

He swallowed, the corner of his mouth twitching with something caught between a smirk and a confession. “I’m not good at being someone’s… fate.”

“Maybe you don’t have to be,” she said softly. “Maybe you just have to… be real.”

That stopped him cold.

He looked at her for a long, long moment - really looked - before speaking again.

“You’re realer than anything I’ve known in years,” he said. “That terrifies me.”

She let her head fall gently against his shoulder.

They didn’t say anything else.

Eventually, her breath slowed. Her body relaxed beside him. Finally, after what felt like days without peace, she fell asleep - curled into the warmth of the last person she expected.

And Terzo, wide awake and tangled in emotions he didn’t yet understand, whispered into the darkness:

“Sei la mia maledizione preferita.”

(You’re my favorite curse.)

A soft beam of light pushed its way through the old velvet curtain, brushing Red’s cheek. Her eyes fluttered open, still heavy with the rare weight of restful sleep. The warmth of another body wrapped around hers made her pause. Slowly, she shifted her gaze.

Terzo was still asleep, one arm draped over her waist, his dark lashes resting against pale skin. The skull paint on his face had smudged faintly during the night, making him look more human than she had ever seen him - almost boyish, yet still decadent.

Her eyes trailed down to his chest, bare under the loosely draped robe. It had fallen open slightly, revealing toned abs, soft rather than sharp, but no less tempting. Her gaze hesitated at the two small silver rings glinting on his nipples. She swallowed.

His breath was steady, chest rising and falling slowly. He wore nothing but deep black briefs, the edge of them just visible where the robe parted at his hips. Her stomach twisted with the memory of their closeness the night before, and a low, uninvited ache simmered in her thighs.

She should have looked away. She didn’t.

And for a moment, in that silence, something heavy stirred inside her - longing and confusion and danger all tangled together.

She blinked hard and shifted slightly, not wanting to wake him. But his arm around her only tightened.

She was still staring...at his chest, his piercings, the way the robe barely clung to his body when his eyes blinked open slowly.

A lazy grin spread across his lips.

“If you wanted a better look, dolcezza…” his voice was hoarse from sleep, teasing and low, “you could’ve just asked.”

Red jolted slightly, her eyes snapping up to meet his. A rush of heat exploded in her cheeks.

“I wasn’t....” “You were.” He smirked, clearly enjoying her flustered reaction. “Caught in the act.”

She narrowed her eyes, sitting up just enough to create distance, though the sheets shifted dangerously low across both their bodies. “You sleep with your robe half open?”

“I didn’t plan to sleep,” he said, stretching with a groan. “You knocked me unconscious with that body heat.”

She rolled her eyes, but her lips betrayed her - the beginnings of a smile curling in the corner.

“Besides,” he added, peeking at her through thick lashes, “you were staring like a sinner at a stained-glass window.”

“Oh my God, you’re insufferable.”

“You liked what you saw, though.”

“Terzo!”

He chuckled, shameless and smooth, then propped himself up on one elbow, his expression softening. “Jokes aside… I’m glad you slept.”

Her gaze dropped. “Me too.”

A small silence passed between them before she spoke again, almost shyly.

“Do you… always wear the paint?”

He tilted his head. “Sometimes. Not always.”

She nodded slowly, thoughtful. “Just wondering what’s under it.”

He leaned in slightly, eyes glinting. “Would you like to find out, cara mia?”

A loud clack echoed as the door creaked open without warning.

Red jumped, instinctively tugging the sheet up to her chest. Terzo, unfazed and still lounging half-naked, sighed dramatically.

“Well, well,” Secondo’s gravelly voice cut through the air like a dagger laced with sarcasm. “Good morning to the Vatican’s latest scandal.”

Red blinked in horror. “You...do people not knock here?”

Secondo raised a dark brow, crossing his arms as he stepped in. “Clearly, I should start. But then again...this one never knocks either.” He gestured at Terzo with disdain. “You reap what you sow, fratellino.”

Terzo groaned and flopped back into the pillows, tossing an arm over his face. “Dio mio, why must you haunt me?”

“Because I’m still cleaning up your messes, even in other people’s suites apparently.” Secondo’s sharp eyes shifted to Red with a pointed stare. “Though this… this is not a mess. She’s quite lovely.”

“Don’t,” Terzo warned, peeking from under his arm.

Secondo smirked, clearly enjoying himself. “Relax. I came to tell you Sister Imperator is looking for you both. Something about final logistics for the tour.”

Red cleared her throat, still flustered and clutching the sheets. “We’ll, uh… be ready soon.”

Secondo gave her a nod of approval, then turned toward the door.

“Nice robe,” he said over his shoulder to her. “Very… sinful.”

Click. The door closed behind him.

Terzo groaned again. “He does this on purpose. I swear. One day, I’ll change the locks.”

Red finally laughed, the tension breaking. “He’s… intense.”

“You have no idea.”

Red stood, still flushed from Secondo's uninvited entrance, and grabbed her black satin robe from the floor. She slipped it on and shot Terzo a sideways glance as she headed to the en-suite bathroom.

“I’m going to shower. Try to behave while I’m gone.”

Terzo rolled to his side, propping himself up on one elbow with that signature, devilish grin spreading across his face. “Need someone to wash your back?”

She arched a brow. “Do you always flirt like this?”

“Yes,” he said without missing a beat. “But only when it works.”

She shook her head, amused, and disappeared behind the door. A second later, he heard the water start running.

A beat of silence.

Then…

“You sure?” he called out teasingly, voice muffled by the door. “I make an excellent loofah.”

“Terzo,” she warned from inside.

“Just saying! You did curl up next to me all night. I think we’ve passed the formalities.”

“Shut up.”

He chuckled and sprawled out across her bed dramatically, arms behind his head, a lazy smile tugging at his lips. He stared at the ceiling, imagining the shape of her under that robe… the water dripping down her skin...

He groaned softly, palming his face.

“Santo Inferno, this woman will be the death of me.”

From inside the bathroom, she called out again... half annoyed, half entertained, “I can hear you!”

“Good. Then you’ll know I died thinking of you,” he called back, utterly shameless.

Red stepped out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel, hair damp and clinging to her shoulders, skin still glistening from the heat of the shower. She stopped in her tracks.

Terzo was still sprawled across her bed - but now sitting upright, robe loose, eyes dark and fixed on her.

She clutched the towel tighter instinctively. “I told you to behave.”

He rose slowly, as if pulled by gravity, by something beyond his control. His gaze never left hers. “I tried,” he murmured, voice rough. “Dio, I really did.”

Before she could react, he was in front of her - and in a swift, reckless move, he pressed her back gently against the wall, his hands landing on either side of her face. The towel stayed in place, barely. His body aligned with hers, warm and solid. Her breath hitched.

“Terzo…”

He leaned closer, brushing his nose softly against her cheek, lips just ghosting her skin. “You drive me mad,” he whispered, voice low and hoarse. “I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t breathe.”

She was stunned - caught between the ache in her core and the heat radiating from his body.

His lips nearly touched hers, but he stopped, groaning softly like the control was slipping through his fingers. “Tell me to stop.”

But she didn’t. She couldn't.

Her hands gripped his robe. “What are we doing?” she breathed.

He laughed, softly, bitterly. “I have no idea,” he murmured. “But I don’t want to stop.”

Her chest rose and fell rapidly as she stood there, pinned softly between Terzo’s body and the cool wall. Her hands, almost without thinking, moved up fingertips brushing the warm, bare skin of his chest. His breath caught as she explored, trailing over smooth skin and subtle abs, brushing just shy of the silver rings that adorned his pierced nipples. She removes his robe.

She swallowed hard.

“You are literally in just underwear now…” she muttered, voice uneven, eyes dropping for a second to the low-slung waistband hugging his hips.

Terzo smirked wickedly, his voice dripping with amusement. “Mmm, I thought I’d keep it casual.”

She raised an eyebrow, trying to keep her composure, though her cheeks were burning. “You are indeed a satanic Papa.”

“Grazie,” (thank you) he purred, leaning in a little more, lips near her ear. “Best compliment I’ve had all morning.”

Red let out a nervous, breathy laugh, eyes flicking to the skull paint on his face, smudged and soft now, giving him a rawer, more human look. It made everything feel more real. More dangerous.

He didn’t kiss her.

But he didn’t move away, either.

Their eyes locked, the air thick between them.

Before anything else could happen...before the tension burst or gave way there was a knock.

No. Not even that.

A click and a creak.

The door opened.

“Terzo, per l’amore di—” (for the love of)

Secondo stopped mid-sentence, one gloved hand still on the doorknob, eyes taking in the full scene in a blink. Terzo, practically naked, pressed against Red who stood in nothing but a towel, cheeks flushed, hair wet, hands on his bare chest.

Secondo blinked. Smirked.

“Well well well. I was just about to say Sister Imperator wants to speak to us. But clearly, you have… priorities.”

“Secondo!” Terzo snapped, spinning slightly, though he didn’t fully move away from Red. “Have you ever heard of knocking?”

“I did knock,” Secondo said smugly. “The door just… opened.”

He glanced again at Red, who looked like she was trying to disappear into the wall.

Secondo cocked his head with an appreciative hum. “Quite the sight this morning. I can see why you’ve turned into a simpering idiot lately.”

Red arched a brow despite herself, pulling the towel a little tighter around her.

Secondo tilted his head at her, dark eyes gleaming. “Don’t worry, cara (dear), I’m not here to steal you. Unless you want to be stolen.”

“Out!” Terzo growled.

Secondo grinned. “Sister said now, fratellino. But sure. I’ll give you two a minute. Try not to combust.”

And just like that, he turned and strolled off with a chuckle, door swinging shut behind him.

They walked side by side through the stone corridor, the air thick between them, the sound of their footsteps echoing far louder than necessary. Red clutched her robe tighter around her as if it could shield her from the aftermath of… whatever that almost was.

Terzo was unusually quiet.

For once.

His robe was lazily tied around his waist, his hair tousled, and his usual paint was still smudged around his cheekbones and jaw, giving him a slightly disheveled, sinful saint appearance.

Neither dared to look at the other.

She cleared her throat.

He sighed.

They reached Sister Imperator’s office doors, carved wood and iron, gothic and grand. As Terzo reached for the handle, she whispered:

“Do we look like we...”

“Yes,” he muttered quickly, hand freezing mid-air.

Red groaned under her breath, cheeks hot.

He glanced at her then, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Just don’t look her in the eye. She’ll smell the sin.”

She snorted despite herself, elbowing him lightly.

As they entered, Sister Imperator looked up from her desk, brow lifting the slightest bit as her sharp gaze swept over them.

“You’re late.”

“We were…” Terzo began, voice cracking slightly. He cleared his throat. “Occupied.”

“I can tell,” she said dryly, rising to her full height. “Secondo already briefed me.”

“Of course he did,” Red mumbled under her breath.

Sister Imperator eyed her with something unreadable, then nodded toward the chairs before her desk.

“Sit. We have much to discuss.”

Sister Imperator folded her hands on the desk, eyes sharp as knives. “The tour will start in Texas and finish in California. You leave in exactly one month...early November, just after Halloween.”

Red and Terzo exchanged a glance; the timing felt deliberate, almost like a dark omen.

“You’ll be based at the Ministry until the tour. It will be your home, your rehearsal space, your sanctuary,” Sister continued. “It’s important you get to know Papa Terzo better...he’s the key to this.”

Terzo’s jaw tightened slightly. He wasn’t used to being called the “key,” but he kept silent.

“There’s a meeting with the band and the Ghouls this afternoon. I expect everyone there. No exceptions.”

Red nodded, feeling the weight of the plan settling into her bones.

Sister’s eyes flicked to Terzo, a small smirk curling her lips. “And Papa, perhaps consider wearing more than just that robe for the rehearsals.” Terzo’s cheeks flushed ever so faintly as Red tried not to laugh.

After Sister Imperator leaves, the room feels charged heavy with unspoken expectations.

Terzo glances at Red, a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes. “Looks like I’m stuck with you for the next month.”

Red smirks, the nervousness from earlier softening a little. “Lucky me.”

As Sister Imperator’s footsteps faded down the corridor, Terzo turned to Red, his eyes serious, almost probing.

“What loss were you talking about last night?” he asked quietly, voice low enough for only her to hear.

Red’s breath hitched, her gaze dropping to the floor for a moment before she met his eyes again. Her voice was barely a whisper.

“Lucifer.”

The word hung in the air between them, heavy and electric.

Terzo’s expression tightened, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face as the door clicked shut behind them.

The day had only just begun.

[melvinthedepressedrobot]

URL Music Game 🎶

Make a playlist with each letter of your URL!

Tagged by @artilaz

M - Mr Blue Sky - Electric Light Orchestra

E - Everybody Knows Shit's Fucked - Stephen Paul Taylor

L - Lilac Wine - Katie Melua

V - Violence - The Unlikely Candidates

I - I Don't Like Myself - girli

N - :)

T - That Bitch - Sizzy Rocket

H - High Frequency - Louis III/Lucas Estrada

E - Elle Me Dit - Mika

D - Dick This Big - Todrick Hall

E - Epoch (The Living Tombstone's Remix) - Savlonic

P - Pink (Freak) - Elliot Lee ft girli

R - Rendezvous - Miss Benny

E - Eros & Apollo - Studio Killers

S - Shipwrecked - Alestorm

S - Sparkle - Ayumi Hamasaki

E - Everyday I Love You Less And Less - Kaiser Chiefs

D - Do It All The Time - I DONT KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME

R - ruin - The Amazing Devil

O - Old Molly Metcalfe - Jake Thackray

B - Barry & Freda - Victoria Wood

O - OFF MY FACE - Måneskin

T - Top Secret - hANGRY & ANGRY

i'm bad at tagging so I'm just picking a random bunch from my activity tab; @bizzarczar @raptorjesus-mf @bluerose5 @writterings @roastedtomatosoup

[brooklynislandgirl]

ヽ( ´O｀): What is their body language like when sleepy? 

(Дﾟ≡ﾟДﾟ): When they are surprised by somebody do they physically jump? Scream? 

(⸝⸝⸝ ̑ ̑⸝⸝⸝):  Does their face get red after they drink?

(„ᵕᴗᵕ„): Does their face turn red when embarrassed? If so, how else do they react when embarrassed? (I.E. Shifting of weight upon foot, etc.)

( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ»: Do they have a sensitive spot/s?

Other People's Memes || Accepting

I. ヽ( ´O｀): What is their body language like when sleepy? 

Beth isn't the type of person who sits still very often. If she's watching television or listening to music, she's also drawing, painting, knitting. She runs in the mornings before or after work depending on when she's released from work. There's never really moment at work where she can sit and relax. When it does happen? She takes her break from the ER and goes down to the NICU so she can help with the smallest and neediest of babies. Beth dances and she surfs. She gardens with one of her favourite tenants. She's never met a volunteering or charitable opportunity that she's been able to turn down. So why would sleeping be any different? A chronic insomniac, she doesn't really get a night's sleep until she drops dead in her tracks. Or more correctly, she dozes off on the couch. Slouches down at the table and cradles her head right next to the cup of coffee she's just poured herself. Fallen asleep in the bathtub only to wake up in the freezing cold. Signs of sleepiness manifest as rapid blinks and nodding head. Hand movements slowing to a crawl. She tends to curl up almost protectively ~if she's on the couch, she draws her knees up to her chest, rests her chin or cheek against them~ if and when she's lounging. If she's standing, she tends to lean on something solid: door frames, appliances, and the like. Sometimes her speech slurs or her pidgin thickens, it might take her longer to reply to conversation and she becomes more easily confused or lost. She has to stifle yawns. II. (Дﾟ≡ﾟДﾟ): When they are surprised by somebody do they physically jump? Scream?  If the person who surprises her is lucky, Beth might gasp and flinch. Pulling her limbs back and making herself even smaller than she already is so that she isn't as easy a target. These are clear signs of residual trauma or abuse. If the person who surprises her is unlucky? Beth lashes out. She will instinctively cast one of her more violent, bloody spells. The kind that rupture internal organs, cause flowing and bloody lesions, and can easily cripple or incapacitate a being in the quickest, grossest way possible. III. (⸝⸝⸝ ̑ ̑⸝⸝⸝):  Does their face get red after they drink? Beth doesn't actually drink that often. At most she will have a glass of wine in the evening. A cocktail or two at a function, especially if she doesn't want to be there but feels as if she has no choice. She tends to drink slowly because she has such a high metabolism and she neither likes the feeling of not being in total control of herself and because she's always worried about how it will interact with or effect her medications. So it is incredibly rare for Beth to become flushed while drinking, though her eyes might sparkle a little more than usual and she finds it a little easier to relax. IV. („ᵕᴗᵕ„): Does their face turn red when embarrassed? If so, how else do they react when embarrassed? (I.E. Shifting of weight upon foot, etc.) Beth does blush for varied reasons. She cannot take a compliment easily, finding it either undeserved if it's based on merit, skill, or thoroughness of a job or task, or worse, if it's a compliment based on her physical appearance. When embarrassed, she does blush, tends to look down at her feet if she's standing or hands folded in her lap if she's seated, trying to avoid the gaze of the person or people she's feeling embarrassed in front of, and she can hear her own heart pounding in her ears, drowning out almost all other sound. Her shoulders might roll forward and she will find a way to apologise for herself. V. ( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ»: Do they have a sensitive spot/s? All of her. Beth is extremely sensitive to touch, and it is her primary love language. That being said...the sides of her throat are particularly sensitive and it should be considered a badge of honour if she allows someone to touch, bite, kiss and so on, along her neck. She is incredibly ticklish at the spot above her hips and below her lower ribs. Likewise, the inner skin of her thighs are nearly as sensitive as her throat, and we won't even talk about the soles of her feet.

[kumkumchandak]

Cruising in Paris: A Serene Way to Discover the City of Light

Paris is renowned for its sophisticated lifestyle, classic sites, and ageless appeal. Although strolling its cobblestone lanes or drinking coffee at a corner café are traditional activities, another side of the city is equally fascinating but sometimes disregarded: cruising the Seine River.

Cruising Paris presents a different viewpoint of the city that combines history, leisure, and beauty all in one amazing trip. Whether your visit is your first or your fifth, sailing the heart of Paris lets you discover the magic of the city from a whole fresh perspective.

This guide will go over the best cruise experiences in Paris, how to maximize your river trip, and why working with a reputable travel agency such as We Share will transform your Paris trip from decent to spectacular.

The Beauty of the Seine: Why Is a River Cruise in Paris Unmissable?

Running past some of Paris's most well-known sites, the Seine River winds across the city's center. From the Eiffel Tower and Notre-Dame Cathedral to the Louvre and Musée d'Orsay, the riverbanks abound in centuries of history and culture.

More than just views, cruising the Seine provides. It's a trip across time and architecture, across romance and rhythm. You pass by great palaces, glide under historic bridges, and observe Parisian daily life running along the embankments.

The experience gets much more magical at sunset. You appreciate why Paris is known as La Ville Lumière—the City of Light—as the city lights flutter to life.

Various kinds of cruises available in Paris

1. Sight-seeing Tours

For first-time guests, these are the most often used and easily available solutions. Usually lasting an hour, sightseeing cruises offer commentary in several languages, so elucidating the background and relevance of the sites you pass. To fit varying moods and schedules, many businesses provide daytime, evening, and even late-night options.

2. Dinner cruises

A dinner cruise expands on the experience. Imagine savoring a multi-course French dinner accompanied by wine while the Eiffel Tower sparkles far away. Usually running two to three hours, these cruises feature live music. A dinner cruise offers both gastronomic and visual delight whether your celebration is unique or just you want a great night out.

3. Private Trips

If you're looking for something more personal, several businesses run private cruises ideal for couples, small families, or even proposals. These unique events might call for tailored routes, champagne service, and gourmet cuisine. A private cruise guarantees uniqueness and closer relationship with the rhythm of the city.

4. Themed Tours

Designed cruises for those looking for a more customized experience center on everything from jazz evenings and wine tastings to art or historical narrative. For returning guests eager to delve further into particular interests, these are particularly excellent.

Greatest Routes and Landmarks to See While Cruising

You will come upon some of Paris's most famous sites as you sail down the Seine:

Tower in Eiffel: Seeing the tower rise from the riverbanks never gets old regardless of how many times you have seen it.

The great façade of Louvre Museum reflects exquisitely in the water, providing a royal perspective of one of the most well-known museums on Earth.

Though lately damaged, Notre-Dame Cathedral is still a potent emblem of the spiritual and cultural legacy of the city.

Originally a railway station, this grand structure today holds masterpieces of Impressionist art.

With its gilded sculptures and intricate lamp posts, Pont Alexandre III is a particularly remarkable ornate bridge.

Île de la Cité: Home of Sainte-Chapelle and lovely medieval streets, Paris's old heart

Along with the soft splash of water and sporadic notes from street musicians floating from the banks, cruising Paris provides an uninterrupted stream of architectural masterpieces.

When should one go on a river cruise in Paris?

Although there is year-round cruising, spring and autumn are best for good weather and breathtaking scenery. While winter cruises sometimes feature festive decorations and cozy interiors, summer brings longer daylight hours and busy riverbanks.

On the Seine, even a rainy day can become poetic as droplets dance on the surface and the city's silhouette softens under gray clouds.

Making the Most of Your Cruising Trip

Select the proper moment. Particularly dramatic and romantic views are provided by evening and sunset cruises.

Plan ahead; book Especially for dinner options, popular cruise times sell out fast.

Many dinner cruises have a smart-casual dress code.

Arriving early helps you board usually fifteen to thirty minutes before departure.

Bring a camera, but be present: Though it's easy to snap countless pictures, remember to just back off and savor the trip.

More Than a Cruise: Seeing Paris Together

Although a cruise down the Seine is a must-do, Paris presents a broad spectrum of activities outside the river. That's where the tailored travel agency We Share finds value. Their area of expertise is creating real, off-the-beaten-path travel experiences that will help you to more intimately connect with the city.

From little neighborhood food walks to private museum visits, from artist-led seminars to underground jazz evenings, We Share helps you find the soul of Paris—instead of depending on generic tours.

The ideal place to start planning is Things to do in Paris, one of their most often used guides. Through food, art, music, or architecture, it provides carefully chosen experiences that transcend the usual and transport you to the actual Paris.

Who Should Set Out on a Paris Cruise?

Perfect for first-time visitors is cruising Paris. Get oriented using the city's major landmarks and layout.

Couples: Few events equal the romance of floating beneath the Eiffel Tower late at night.

Families can learn while staying entertained by means of narrated cruises.

For solo visitors, a quiet river ride can be a contemplative respite on a hectic schedule.

Photographers: There are amazing picture possibilities from the always shifting vantage points.

Advice on Paris Cruises for Visitors

Match your cruise to surrounding attractions. Many boarding sites are near important attractions, which helps you to organize a good day.

Time is precious; delays can result from traffic and boarding lines during the busiest travel season.

Search for combo offers. Several businesses mix bus trips or museum visits with cruises.

Bring a jacket or scarf; river evenings even in summer can get rather windy.

Support nearby businesses before or after your cruise by visiting riverfront bookshops, creperies, or art exhibits to add to your local experience.

Cruising Paris: The Emotional Journey

Cruising Paris touches something more than just geography and landmarks. As the boat passes known landmarks, there is stillness. Couples hold hands, single visitors slink over the railing lost in contemplation, conversations quiet. This is a pause to really feel the ambiance.

Seeing the city from the river inspires awe in even experienced travellers that is impossible to overlook. You connect to yourself as much as to Paris.

This is the reason Parisian sailing is so unique. It is more than just sight-seeing. It is a feeling, a rhythm, a narrative softly expressed in the language of light and water.

Closing Notes

Paris is a city that shows itself gradually layered. And cruising its river is among the most graceful approaches to find those layers. Every moment on the Seine becomes part of your memory from the grandeur of the Eiffel Tower to the whispers of old bridges.

Spend some time carefully planning your trip if you want to really enjoy all Paris has to offer—including its more subdued, more real sides. Start by looking at the top activities in Paris and let travel pros like We Share lead you toward events outside the norm.

Having a partner like We Share guarantees you're creating memories rather than merely checking off attractions as you plan your schedule.

In a city where every street corner tells a story, it's the specifics—and the journey—that makes it unforgettable.

[libidomechanica]

And something man of sense, as thought in me

A sonnet sequence

               I

And something man of sense, as thought in me. Oh, sweeter than centaurs after rapine being blacks salt, and cheek,—who saith A whole! Unto dancingly as he durst love but hollow voice I hung in the hand, as did fly to be, and wine. Pink trumpet’s peal, that’s how much as of a noble father, that silence pray the fire you, with much know: whence ye see or set, and live! Not ease me of conuenable. Such as often is his light, alone, developed brute; a god though I die. Me to pay; and sore doth breed a tune to qualify.—Thou may’st not lost in womankind’s forlorn: the lady with hast.

               II

They lustye, as they saw—of the maid! To speak. Not this sair, that I have gone: where I know, his next day them, too, this oak; he shall it reposes with a merry and go less. Air that I was thy child, to sip; but let me die! Though their women fresh hope, that lies in women, lovely pallor which me be tended she hath rescue me, I scorns like him, and even in war’s a light, and my divine Musæus sing o’re, and truce without hope from the strong the light have changed to-night. ’Twas vast, and groan, more of Him. Feel good night of cherry, doubled hand he oppressed. I oft he pure greefe I dye, hey ho the snow.

               III

Sceptre, the garden, Maud and inly knowe. A richest overcome a vast spied. Tis like this I may die. Writhing her husband Jove, the said he how mought religion in our feet, sweeter be, and thing dew? Shall appoint a weeded by prodigy her moist cold daybreak this day so doubt then—i hold cheap the old, to find your disbelief some grass, tame, am I to be a little ear’s leaves, and fingers, and wipe my limbs: said he, thinkes I heard! I lov’d and golden gather in full-blown, shed full hearts about o’erwhelming wave? Grains or deep breathe amazed by a sparkling eyes should be wait death.

               IV

To have him, and satyrs stars! Rave at their officious heaven. Thee feel a drouth, that first, why pass fleet as slowly said, How’s marriage? Her fair is of a black distincts immortal, for sham’d for hates a clue, or thriue in the shepecote, or some, except sometime declines, the sprays of Poesy, Now let me see my silence more the very with sweete, and as the bed she trimmed, the while now, sun, at our palate, helpless sight to seek, my dear because i crossed up my heart again! All ruddy drops are but gauds; nay, when you both into itself, and legal ways as she saw her train, her skinne. Voice expire.

               V

For day, to pay; and Geraldine, had we be bold, and you on their reptile souls from human thou climb but never shone, mine. Which with a tight! And throes of the scope of the Syrens faith do move, and briefly all the should shall appointment grew drunken in that He, who shall my life of lies; who was like a cup hast chill, crown that payned, to find and sky: this through but the long tale, nought relief sometimes three-parts may you refuse your mouth my bale will end. For the world is censured by Cupid trembling over will for home a quarter ere his pride; with symbol- essences; he swore by the old oak tree!

               VI

And loud revel and let this young lovers. The perished, strenuous within and Aethon snortings of heart-broken the ship may meet, a clammy dew is beautie’s world’s eye, and rings, then let come, as colour’d drums, and find out the offered his cavern, ’mid continent the feathers the other’s lips and green, that’s best peak of my fortune and song, list while it maken a Mart of my love! How pure, so let the deepest deed:-thou with relief—cruel enchantress! Perfumed, the kindly season to bliss for myself shalt there I am a shore. To hear from other spied the census taken delight. Balloon.

               VII

Absence to underneath the ocean-streamlet and song the ground with death, with than a parching. Kick up a riot, making dew? Rites were kind, whose majesties and thimble just stoop my heart of heart, wee’ll try, the maiden, to the waters, you must consummation summer tide is beare of Love pine antique time spins fastened. The flute, I sang not this palace, that when you must ride, and when thence, and I will indistinct their name is Jupiter, my life to the day, ye wadna been sae shy; for her any would. And hell should have a blush’d no lightning-swift as faint and strove to-night she said he but you!

               VIII

About search, sun, and at you, you my sin and rosé on the subway jerks, the slept on like season to-day, to slake my greater, fiery realm, and let me pluck it for thy summer-standing, slow, and with pain and yonder innocent and doleful tale with such an host what a statue with brede thy streams: and such conduct neither head last, the worlds careless master is the notes god set between the wind. I have smelt o’ the barbed hook, one pink casket, that any darts of thine—the supermarket using the garments camel-draught ere it came like, leaves. I craved stronger. Save of dreadful pass through they pression; or, for an empire stern has ever. And thee so bestadde? I peeled bits of eventually do away, and such maine rage, whom her knee. Doth make ours? I dream a little boy was rescued from that curl from human eye: for down-glancing and pine, a moment ere she did draw, and thou here?

               IX

I am taking a cursing, and play. To make me, when flowing; and one, thou leddest Orpheus’ imaginings: old rusted a precipitous path, stifling your beauty’s busy through another, where thou, bethinks no face was the keen her heard and shame, and who shall I could not speak for recompense more pleased from the tempo. The nymph arose: a plait upon their promise set up into one but a cannot shakes a feast, as his face my hart.—Then Scylla o’er the plain; I wanton Nimph for my ruddy; o heare a numberless, which once and fell! The fire you bastard in my rose tree.

               X

And breakfast though the Muses your children, talent, English is flattered her jewels, and clashed by the Moone, they say, when look to us, of whom rage of squirrels, foxes that was the lofty lady fell, and brain. Churches— I see their footing no pleasure, so you heare to give you both diffuse, and keep their shops of sleeping, garden bed that thou would I dibble take away more bright pinions! That breed, the casten to gard. Before all around and forehead at his rapier brauely euerywhere, as bright more than Morpheus’ imagination, one part I’d lie with nerves, ears and I hold you wake?

               XI

As been told thee the truth; so let the Line. To keep me alone that we see were was ripened, a youth’s heritage, whose that echoes away the moonlight; who for a breezeless lie of her haire with lily centre plays as dancing and plunder’d what, is it the world of such a lovely mistress, young, all lay in the same, give, while; moment cuts the dead-drifting to each. For here Mixture in the long captivity and the better the while in a tangled in the terms of deities of children and choked my tears froze. Grow old age shall voice did part, let me fly to this day my hart did you!

               XII

With new sting the low voice he did not play’d his doole, this pale: thou hast child will I gladly our hearted is much rage, both including the sea and call’d of all my poor canker’d jealousy brought nedes be upon that he at last and nothing today— this, and inly know what we see both World. So, better, to some friends—they unclasp from the marks upon a groan doth complain to sip; but that others harme, selfe escaped this courage passing night! When the wood would ever piping shine angels along, and when as yet, quite forgot; nor do I know that in a true Honors to the drreams are land.

               XIII

Of being for mankind’s forlorn? His spright inside.—Was the promised shaking up your jeering heate? Their lines the drank more express, or softly tread, my merry bard! And who art taught ere it ranckleth ay more, and far off, tremble underneath each other man who liues by lovely Moon!—’Tis done: both are ominous. Or, I was you wilt vsurping bees find out why? Caught with glad as I came all dance: no woods were honour’d as now, O winged Child. Then stiffe and moanings swelled high. To no other count—should, they such power bene beame so bright, and like a nearer birth till to be in lightly me, but, taking.

               XIV

From thou art a rewardeth, sleepy one? As the pure immediate matters and Tygres, taking of the Minster-child is the United States, and not be lover dull nature reign’d all frailties the victorye? And three make glad moning, passed the vast of his face, to the rolled her and death, while her eyes upraised, as it’s most recall? Not: the night be, so weren’t bothered by a patient with error find. Yes, but doth with amorous influence, and, on the main according through and yearning for, where, noiseless in the kind, keep back again that no night sun, look to shrieking soul belief.

               XV

Grew a newe mischiefe dead? The flocke, thought ungentle bosom eve to see how much on her in them. Ye snufft and disarray—my mind, their famisht case?—Is it thee, my Love, and not, thoughts so all give your horse, and the drreams all your brow: are your faces level plaint of all the more that in the east, and sigh’d! Never still wandering speech play no more, speaking dew? Shore, our wife said crawl through envy of the muzzle benevolence she turnes she does perfumed, the which it could thee stop here, but for a lass wi’ a’ your hurt apples, til you bastard in tones lay dense and from a basket empty cell.

               XVI

“Why was I forgot; nor do wrongs receive! Lofty lady, Christabel, that they met or vex, men the mood of a surprise on one another unnested in all the latrine, a moment stuck in me, till Triton blest, where there upbraid to himselfe known; I shall dead weighed not aftermarket using thousands of the key that Hank Aaron’s room in wheel runs back, one accent hight, He plung’d for his spread on her lap. Come brine, until thou shalt the fault in woe I vowed war, they track’d the foamy waves and yet to be so pale blue stone, on which gone, I am amaze of thy Desires, alone way?

               XVII

One ray the crossed the ostler listen to his work, child, as if it thou read things, they knew not thing space be gone: O ’tis won. Add this globe—few, who live without a giant’s bier she was the pimpernel dozed on the highway, with new surprised, as he that you could not be long ere the west, she was dared. For, Maud, so let me pick up or drop at wild Decembers, from the lip of Julia’s cheeks but he would win and leaue thriue: neuer was a warm starfish. Salt, and oft them closed are, that hold his heart such sorrowful offering of this time I vanish’d. The night, but tell what a hollow rocks of yore: and name.

               XVIII

That from singing so faire mindes resound, and laws to the amazed ken, but need’st thou art ripe sheaves are the ancient days. But gather Jonson now many yearn to scold me. Where laid, the night her iust cries; thou wast my word said crawl into them, but he haste; which eve doth trie our pieces small rescued the man! In my drinking, serpents to get out I wene about thy sweet as a perilous beast! Tears that will I, alas, now they eyed each other’d lips, so sweet as wind, and every surrogate? Her fading in water every pen, reserv’d. Of Him. But, O fooles, or Tyrants a free and a leg.

               XIX

Thou pleased from stair, nor manner they circle their frenzies; thou, O sun, at our own Ceres; every ocean’s face: and to this in the earth, or chance came, and still to her, long black hair. Ben Battle array, and those, of all her features stranglings, and day,—the promise to mountain-top—the same truth, with mery that wastes. Fair Geraldine shake dew on there; for I see your’s blush rising breathe south summer tide of moonlight bower? He rose, full of weal and a curse, high Muses in embalming, my lovely leaping her gentle boy, and shake this song neuer good, and shaft, thou no placed, that ye have castle bell.

               XX

Out each we meete: a chapelet on her brother, and once arms she pray persuade wise, and not said she if you gave met you on the maid,—her face; but I will end. Honey, and we are a human door! At the laugh to field, said he but since we cross-roads within to their operation. The sun in forlornest used to dearest, wilt thou wast think of slain lovers, whose peeping over Glaucus held his moment face upon her eyes these signs of this Geraldine especial legend or booze. He laid his heart—slower, to take, I must first release. The mastiff old decree! The iolly hole in them and my greete, an odours, a friends joy, to some Ladies I will not passe, she sweet Sleepe most subtle to faint in the Phoenix in her lovers, whose brown again, and Tellus feels like a snake! For she then i hold cheap the most use? With a hollye eue, hey ho chapelet on high, it could be a Jew.

               XXI

Leaving hame on me, tired. We country, heaven shall know, when she’s to my iust cries with me. Did thus all ruddy; o heare throes of medicated musick mard by a sparkling sight, you of the crosse the peacefully theyr stead of truth live with want rage of Absál, the nurst, sounds of May, and so stiff bitch? For had been grieve; a crystal roof by fishes’ tails. About thy fragile bones. Cast one brought. No dispel a thousand yet, I dare not worthy being man. Perhaps three, I bow’d to feel my father lips a- glow! In court—that to leese they both are our uses of hellish spite thy you rehearse.

               XXII

Girdle me for ardour more and fern-leaves covers lay a placid lake came back, a weary travel’s end to spin it and just stand life melted in black bat, night, and take deliverer, how full of the pitiless washed in her large Neptunus supreme; if to pleasure, that was neither’d Indian darts before this soul of longing that heart’s undimmed, their cries she is slipp’d by this gray: tis one good Dogges hem needeth to God, whose in so their cal: for I have known the ward the bow, and not, What untie! Let all our Titles shuffled so, since I visited the cup of dole god gave him.

               XXIII

Gave, as faire Venus when she wand again, and in your course had bound in a bigger room full of some grassy nest, who turns earth’s wheel the blood run upwards from the deil a ane wad gladly our sheltering me towards and straight was a million time spins faster in the dwarf returne, when herbs in this, give, which I blessedness spent, with pain, here’s naught the wite thy God to love, the appear which else one childish lullaby to stair, now as we did it were ne’er found of the lightly promise to a disgraceful end— he rolled her dream. They han brewed, a visor of some ancient Nox;— then she’d surely that win, the babe unborn: first cast in light wood would have been told her hear her own beside her, as the straw and thine of dreery deeds might forty beam a strawberry show, this night Nay! In him truly Bacchus and the highest mast can see at bred her winds meet, while with how sad state, it could not afraid!

               XXIV

Crowded place for his mouth with the scene—the nymphs, and speech planned, youth with all my fathers have doome. That will meet; my Muses! That are lang! I am stuff, why, I’d some may to life: but chance of state, neede feare would I gather since arms more clear shine, the air, so indefeasible might and candle-lightsome level plaine: but built his eyes, which Love hath so fair Geraldine. Ushering string scum, the witelesse cryes moved on the same whom to love you wake, sleepeth well. He rose: he ground that nor sleepe. That Moon I think this old man lay a pearless the more! With a holly euerywhere; false-flatt’ring silent.

               XXV

Ah wel-a-day! They to her chain! And revolutions, gulphing; the Pledge, whom thou kiss, who, praying put a relief—cruel space, with a fire burning to get out. Prison. If I have slept. Even to tell it high disdained, right? Softly, flutes; nor be deliverer, how drowsy sacred Right and them for man woulden drawe nearer it laye? She is bearing to human that far as such a season is over the flocks astate. Groans from eve to be enough the might will go by. I foolhardy, there thousand fickle Nelly Gray will hauiour garres men missay, and turn thee so this, that the multitude.

               XXVI

The utmost alone till he change; the scope of haunted. Which not apart, to shift the snow’s daughter, that strove, made are you? Sternly denied its avalanche can! Of Hero and Loue with desire than a palfrey’s back this a shell-born god; Follow, and fern- leaves of the smart, if thou now unrobe your heart at you doubt na, lass, but moderately, and wine. With low vibrating cake and made of those, till silent rows, poor Cynthia, thogh faire mindes resort. Sufficiently me, but, trowth, I care na by. I’ll come: of painful sextons’ ghostly gather beame so bright youth, who came to them, but ye may.

               XXVII

Of heart for a lass wi’ the shepheard the lovely form, look’d as was plenteous plotted Lambe in them all deckt with thou hast children teares you much more, and in a serene air purely. Yet gifts should have become a pair, as near a son wasted, ere I sit writhing bird wings, the sea.—To whate’er there, seeing jets blacks and thine, but the cold. Watch out for than mingled with oath to a statue of state; but those sacred Right to flee. And now tis mad spleen, but could not conceiv’d with work of gladness, tame, am I to be recoil. And takes the Lambe be Willye his second leg, and suck’d an air they doen lick.

               XXVIII

Of glitter book to show it wont of good; for laik o’ gear ye light was a man; with the bounty wrong emprise. In harmless the lady with nicest virgin-white road as sorrow was there soft ear of a sometimes unto her, and another unnested well mought ay deeper and clouds and kissing and temper’d long bird dog. But the faultless bleatings of yestern regard upon his chill; the charioted by a vision, or in none, into his agone her face; where the fields divine, a maid, Lord Roland destroy thee. For this: an empire how I admirations that festering thing, on the red round, whether and of Wisdom oft haue his clothing wine, on the whilome vsed the day, and legs of air to move, by which wrapt thy soft Catullus, shaped. Languid breeches, at duty’s bustle; while I in an error fall: not thy Sisters say bulldaggers, and airy a tread, those strength, nor knots.

               XXIX

If poetry could tear thy harp can swim, and legs were again, and lull myself t’ excuse spun every wing’d legend or God to live forest along green upon their ecstasy? Gentle bits of States, and boys! Then bed that was vncouth: so long his fasten to compare they aboue all, to one place wherein no revenge me deep waters! Be she, they knew; she dwelt in women and green sparkling eye, thy cup’s head at his eyes; and well; only I am alone. And suddenly, as fair, with caroches, all his rein in greene is fitted with cares of the rich: but live your sake, and with a smiles that brim of day-old passed the glittering their face between us, overjoy’d, on the lady sprang up the one hour westernight of Beres and last year’s lease you? Knelt by those accent his wine shewe forth her eyes most justly the glyder, then I touch of callow eagles at thy hart is not evident.

               XXX

For who will try, fair maiden queen of mine. —Or a Frank, to mumbling of Ireland, whose cristan, who pluck it for these shadowes your loved not palsy or bowre of my word to that good watched wightly past, did she if you know me and the youth, nor be my mate in Armes he clattered from this wand is barbed hook, one part? That has light, and tower; just with brede hearing me, when thirsty grieved, by every pan to morn to say thus far the same. In the and bear; and if it were on me, and west wind bloweth sore, then will passages.—’Tis he along the this I sing. To die alone, developed away!

               XXXI

Let all have made it oft; skin of sex, to rob the chamber care thee; sounds did she now said she, thought inviolate’s thy languish, how she unobserved so deeply sheepe, whose wheel runs back and tween you begun, of her grace weakens his friends, that I can rest won’t be her palms together like a bright by the roses, and aye, by sure of vermeil cheek so wan and me. Register wit, her and watch her hair. Lies as ugly as you must belief some have been sav’d but great; his spread; since I caught: a mazer ywrought. Doth tread, as infant’s arms fit you away for the hollow world complaintiue please my nest!

               XXXII

Or call’d my name move, ye banefull the good, who is this universe as the steep, mingle musick mard by publicke heede; by no encroachment who lord it o’er there nis sike mischaunce. Amid the thunder, which in the Chrysler building could be in the thousands on thee, that had swerv’d, had half so self- love perfectly-chisled cheeks, that hearde more they die at thy soft as fire, let simple soules; come with this work, children fair, with a spell, o’er-master is a feast: such freends did so delight. Hovers lost, or infected by, when thou sing, and Daies, when I am too fierce agony, across my grandees!

               XXXIII

Benediction passing. Reserve the Wolfe lowder had seen upon our deep of the robben one open swift as sea-bird on the wear red for love’s wonned a wicked Wolfe lowder call her will miss! Full of incense I smell they han brewed, say, spite of Empires and marrow like a work night easeth the fierce it came: I saw a bright eyes lifting of yore. The ministering scum, they were slurry seas, where everlasting were missed or mocked; thence who left me, I will lover& for a day, ye wadna been my adventure the proud, and both wildering voice was a regular bird dog. Here too slow!

               XXXIV

Left slapped its long legs are ever stops: Potter and day the rites were softly tread unto dancingly fair some in the stirre still my soul to such misery of thy verse in some beauty, but don’t to the outside the crown. How do we comes seldom sleepe, increasing green as danc’d a ringlet of Love withers that will never feet. Thought it not exacts there. Outside her, as that thou had two pails of a king, and heart is sair, that I repented of thy mind, when he bit me in light, the bed, the could I then the cares of the rosebud garden weed; sir Leoline first-born and wonder clear expansion.

               XXXV

There is beauties, come into its guardians, go floating the ship afar: tossing, a constantly, when the bound by all the dead, though envy of the Water-Monarch. But a sleeve, through the bride were! Let the eye and for all the daughter, on a day, ye wadna been so sad, I saw him not overflowing? Moonlight, curse, of divers brilliance supreme a Lot! When every is great minds in the tomb, to be in the High Court loathes perfumèd garment, tying you to that crowd of polished silver spoke and if every is growing on the midnight should be my decay, o’er-master of the Dambe.

               XXXVI

The doome. I crave thee, dear lord’s blast forced unconfin’d, and Christabel! Not fault in women to Pindar; and post away to Phillis, only dear; that I was what flies into a clue. See. More slathered, fecund, overtall follow’d, as I glide in calm white Queene. My first time to the tempest-tost, and look for brilliances?—Then hey, for seven generation, with the owlet’s sing of fragrant gloom, in kind of thine: see her eve but thou shalt be, the drift, as its round a particular conquering in that truely mene, but whisper from beneath the bath your running near death, immortality.

               XXXVII

And there, forgive my verses too from leaning on them go scraping ouer the pitiless day my hand—had grasp’d his breast. Joyous all my dream, they con to wear! There is not vnsweet, yellow guinea pigs white rose on my arms, o, gie me there take, as shall yonder is sair, that’s absent presence could watching tones of trust God: see how wanne a fabric crystal brow, so radiant fire, and made are not outrun me. To heart; for nothing human door! When stiffe and gone, seized me nigger never bid them just put down, and ever young and queuing up the solemn heraldry, that with such hope, with knowledge absolvèd.

               XXXVIII

The sights are the wreck; the Nereids were silence: then I am a mailen! Saw a fury whetting through. While I stumbled the years of the Baron’s room, enters hers! Back to a stake my eyes o’erflow of joy. The deed, were too hast sent a mere upbraid to him be the empty art. Where take and bow’d hear meadow and so free from above, wha for the years; and curb’d, the bodies ’gan abate that same who the outstretch forth a fear of the lips, so please hath made the same whom he should be cut and pebble, and see love’s rite, and ever pour’d hed, milke hands white heare torn: how specious sympathy full of straw and that greene; let Majesty without thou was pumping from spray, a Lambe in theyr flocks and knit the power bene they within and speak north, conceiv’d with a living, I will be your souls, give up awhile a Full Year was faint in health, and nothing that we harms, seems to be mark! A thousands of men.

               XXXIX

Upon a wilderness.—But neither prove many, who thought footsteps luxuries! Bright the holy flesh, from ever should have swore that might fast recite these, and pain and having briefly than all the brim, there. Do not be long, till report, of love. And oh, her with eyes were cold hands have enshrine such a look for him had bene. And fingers through but kind of child born, This morning to fade away, wants to see, and still force the sweet, more pleas’d our arms, seems to sweet as wind, and let think of my grief are, and express, an odours, nor be my Nectar drink but once back to-night, that weight, her large tears ago.

               XL

Were not falling it down, many for a bird; therewith that glar’d before I had drunken serpent’s space fulfil: what I must be for the dear, dear life melts with care, the lady stood nor sleeping on its wings funeral roar of a leafe sturre. Phillis, can speak for western hast thou owest; nor doth put to these I kneeling your brain, O Lord, by thy louers she doth small reward their women faded cheeks the broughten mazer alone in peep found, like a round, and flowers, and wildly glittered into spring the pride, and it felt th’ unkind breathe ten hundred of, for me, is nowe sithence, youth on thine, led forth the light have a tear. Oh, sweetest of my life has heart; but if beyond such rites so well, but yet for queen, seated urn, hold sphere, bright Cynthia greets that here! Where take part a lady rose leaves in vain, and west wish, so too, than my heart; but, now, O winged Fame committed well addrest.

               XLI

In grass hangs loosen it’s terrible weigh the sound of fluttering blushes waking Virtues with her stares supply theyr cote. Crawl never spake: All suddenly a warm starfish. At ever loves and and straight that armour tongues for my lost his title town by rivers brilliant eyes, has been told I love I did not say: in the woof; with a gem; to see its dripping too cold gave me for very long oppress’d. The less, he mighty consult, if learn to hear my mother’s breast morning the sage’s pen—the black-eyed despair sun, and her arms devotion lives the feel said among the white hear her finger.

               XLII

Thou feel’st a louer? He tapped wither; then here did fall from the lattice-light and here design’d t’agree, like a bent listen they track’d the memory thee. Mary, at the Diamond of the day, ye wadna been sae shy; for laik o’ gear, ye’ll fastened. But, O fooles, or peace upon an uptorn for pride! And rise, startled into the which comforter! Beauties Queene. Come swift-footed messages. And who art the east, the Baron’s hand, but your tears, I praised, he spurres call, tis one that will wee. An olive, when I crossed thy servant forward. If she sky not flowers felt. Pluck it for the her! And many days.

               XLIII

Who with unsettled eyes and being breast. And onely dear that’s too rude and took its wings hovers with sharpening rubies, pearless the down but fate’s the innocent from strifes, murmurings, with love. Of elements’ strife, shoulder at O lonesome mumbling that one hours my life’s bliss from off a crystal brow, anon she sky not fail beneath each suck a weeded rock above; and when they only death-bed she. Tis the into a frocke on its wings in the girl shoot so dirke night as Lowder was gone to the whole I crawl into mine! I caught to thee that the mair moving fool to face was ruthful bow.

               XLIV

And all his next morning with pain and glimmer, awake unto dancing the silence and had nothing though not at hand hour! Army in battle widder, he shadows would ride. Beauty of your round me, curled like to his dog his faire ladies, I confesse O noble heard her, where the pastoures hot breath’d exist with my power. Cast in salt, and death nor be the rare sights hardly to the world laid his hide; which band or God to resound, sepulchral from thence through the yes sirs&ma’ams to keep good night with the swirl and friend, I care na by. Hating them, letting a mother made from thy music breathe; but, in the midnight, and pray you freeze me out. The shutters, and they were against the riddle of blisses which in the upper sky, yet, if in a fit of friends, because I live! And I saw you rehearse. I crave the Sea-God’s will for hart, e’en as ye may. By nature’s rais’d, for every flower, tu—whoo!

               XLV

Then he loss, that we’re but enjoys with my feet emerg’d an acre hath, by Natures, Nighting eye, to do thy hand, and if I go mad, but whether absent frae sun she that awoke in one left the even. Roar were entertainty hue gleam delicately that tended she did not the solve is scorched by fate; the weather’s arms. For our more immortal blisse, opening valley road. His howe done that he kils his long. Thee in love. And in her heart, and then return. Not for feare hence I was a grapefruit among that did say: for here robben one left my leap it be some days be overwrought me.

               XLVI

Could not sleep, your bosom cold, again a book, the Moon. And dumb lactation of fellowship, O Moon! But hollow voice is yet to plead force, lightly make this pride, above, enjoy tonight, and plunder’d aloft its head is a month of slumber honoured him, and well; a little here. I’d grab your wedding gradual to a summer- standing tones, yet eloquence and throated his right Titans shine cold inn-door. So it will climb, in thy soul, going the square, warm French bread and catch hints of our punishing down fresh trees. On the thorny brake. Of your sampler, and show his face I recognize?

               XLVII

He had open on the shepheards ioye, how doleful tale with my Mother’s soul of love? Stay, that this rapier brands were to its waves in rebel tempest-tost, and the like a you agen. Ah, gentle minstrel bard, So let the hall, as it’s life, for a moment; she did so bright should feel, he whole; shouldering out each ear: do you floated easier grooves, and out then falling like one chiefly though I was trying through page after that foam’d above, enjoy such years: while shepheard in a gold-green shore, and for me by a patient wi’ bonie side of quiet, that noysome grass hangs be devoted to knots.

               XLVIII

Side of her had love-knot in plaintiue pleasure and clear The cured by line, then he campers. King of the blaze of the house they track’d the while the wild, dishonour’d phantasy; for I hear my mother! They wyll: or there an artichoke but the moste leefe, hobbin, I curs’d the Egean see, his cheek who can do. But none to take me; there arose a new and send forth a flowers keep religious shows half-way to a life is planned! Smooth and sings a soldier bold, and over the while with joyous all creature boring mothers were lives a feast; of life has been sae shy; for thought, and had the garden of my own.

               XLIX

The feare hence that first with ended, I think it struggle to feyne, and let thee to me, nor tie knots. Of deep-delved earthly circles, dancing for the tall, what ails poor soul helps flesh so true, and looke, lest Glory end what some few thou shall not hurt invade a Lady’s quiet taketh ended, I shall I doe? And I was greet with Truth reveale. For ever youngling phial: groan’d one to love, and, on the wind up to attention, for Love. I will put accordion. And over will professors and galloped away in disentangled in treasured by thy only Phillis, and never call me now!

               L

The love unless you with iniurie: who ever I should brine: for her father waist, nor account; and in charms: one parts pain; once more stounde, so deeply, because I had any more fair! A guests, that silent rows, poor Wisdom’s changing come into force press’d, even in health, and he kept walking. Of suckling eyes that long age in the soule oppressions of misery I was strange. If I were you with ache? Knot, the early go’st profuse of powers actually merry; but the wore, come into thy hands white ashes lying; but we will never she be fair! Come, my sunne, the trees. It lies our clod; nearer.

               LI

Though the dew,—and take defences. And no marigolds yet constancy lives a shelter of his soul of their owne leasures, like a kid rubs sticking upon his agony, across her shall voice and snapp’d a child and so sweet breakfast thou wast wish through her breast thou was was what kind, than you more red; or seem something and while soul help the sweet, and what sits eternal May, and made with her rage of this soul do I know not when we all surmise. My lovely lady was too late, a Frank, to her own captive breast; and, withal she roses at them all earth devise a total opposition?

               LII

Made apt to knots. Neighbor whose ever you; if I were greefs augment, the age of Woman into the which is—o sorrows long to my tourneyings! That heaving always say, then it woman, shrieking that we’ll speak of the earth, defac’d its way, To whate’er than evening folk, that aperture become to undertake, where so much of aged men— and you love younglings, and grief in your eyes again and put new born for myself round his mark these I know what shrinking, and ever I had vowed war, then she would watch the castle good forget him down. Thy Desire of clean, who the lang! Crowds, in Natures.

               LIII

And let out. I ween, as well mark, down star- light, has fountainside you cause thy young, all the rich in my shafts of the rich in them. Is only pegs; but thy flocks on the dying abroad, and tooke out of couetise, and loving, lowers, budded, and face now for your smell the browse away that life is of a duke, and loved musick mard by a whit, to saue thee, that mere re-animated. More meet the amaze of the meant traitors seek my tourneyings! I crave this sleeps for the middle of true play. And what, if we drove to say, she is forehead, a bunch of them somewhat out of a’ the beauty’s abyss!

               LIV

And lay bar&my peers; poets, though Amphion’s blue wrapp’d a flame, quickly to my tomb. My gain’d its wing, reimbursed my song, and go down he knelt at the place at his thine? There was, not lost thou Desires and when at euer sins unknowne gayned. The Baron’s career home-run total opposition? To saue there is none: ’tis the wild woddes my trickling eye and band sigh, that day there lost, heaving down to quench with a holy day, altho’ hardly my grants with death-note to the spite of the Woolfe in making the grave never could be cured by the trees, the wrought of such be wood from him with her eyes gan glittering fearful wise, I read watch for a lass wi’ a tocher’s garden when downward steps luxuries! The love another whom she raised up beneath the ostler listening folk, that sith the moste leefe, hobbinol, mought aymes at this cordial wind, its pearly shells, and the king put accordion.

               LV

Cynthia, thogh faire your arms became gaunt, with his chosen bishop stay to Phillis, only Love’s refrain because I live and could him slayne. And in it you wake, sleeping kine, couched her hand: hers could not cut him fu’ dry. Death aloud how gone sea-countrye, as sweet is the floors never head moving the wide sea nymphs, and a Hierome, and we are the wind, and hold her feel her cry lord, what greatness. Flocks of child of dalliances? She was wont ligge in the bride allowed war, then wrong’d a heart to be enrich heaven. As Julia, and tellen our window’d heart sore. Out through its sweet this oak; he sworn tomorrow.

               LVI

The Latmian! As I listening between your money; and praise: a Kate, a Frank, to mumble o’er polar seas? As the Moone, the Baron, thilke lasse passed this wings all are but a breath’d existence could I let my face burnt like my hand as thou gave a tongue was far the image in me, but fill and forbear to go for he shall iudge the precipitous pains is most unusual in darkness the stranger ye hae the stood up to that can ail the world, but don’t feel the same troade, but day could be better when the doubtful hope from the time would, said she. At day-break from my sorrowful and fondly in cream?

               LVII

From your eyes; and true, as represent, the casement. Geraldine again and smiles, beguiles: she knew not thou art my all. And sunburnt like him at the head, a bunch of it. A work and made answering. To the souls—the poor Geraldine, shee slewe me with earth, where ours, a friend again, or ioynts be well! Swelling-place, stood up the passion of Death more hath the darlings miswent? Life its head,—on mine a little solo act- that lone withal, smooth and for loue I pyne, hey ho the eie of haunts about us peace march in bed I lie. The Miller was ripened when of my wing’d legend haunted.

               LVIII

That mourns for me. What euer liggen in low faltering course untrimm’d; and takes there in the syrens in circle their words and the rose, sweet, did the Syren’s harsh net?—And what, in green of Beautiful dream ’mong rushes of pride; he swore by the margent luxurious peece, as fire, let me proue her starry Jove! At each every onward went into the other, the dark above, through sweetly blushes be, though they shall not hurt one hair of the holy feet maid, because history stays blank and brings do purge from fools propose to search, sun, looping the sound of a something deep in love to die, and deck that writhed her lawny continent the self I wouldst garden when what come he promise set free, fishes me nourishing; but when the tears of the promise to orphane place, in what are both of your gun fixed bayonet like a hangnail in town; for laik o’ gear maks you wert build a cast—but eerie?

               LIX

And sculptured in the same fluttering abroad that hath shown. One end of States, and the level stand subtill silently that Hank Aaron’s hand the sun; thou smiled, and this day; low on her me? You would not be the sooth’d her girded up his sharpe desirest beautiful! Is a pitteous corse, to leaue there remain, the empty and more hate, shun what poor breast! Inside yon spotted Lambe in light portal Bird! When loe Perigot is weary watch’d me to my though I never saying at this the shall my ghostly galleon tossed upon our rhyme, exceeded by thy diadem, out-sparkling safely.

               LX

This hook and rage, both complain to sink away from outburst the sweet maid, Lord Roland de Vaux of Tryermaine. Which he scarlet constant fell upon the sun to sale the wind. Queen short-legged hen, if I were much to ease me oft then it gets different. A spoil among the wall,—I hear, dear. Resort of the landlord’s joy and pleas, the monster, other with my fortune she like in this fluttering than one? That He, who deem that thy bed, till fayre sight blind voluptuous power that for thy high employ, shower that I must falling sight as doth against me. He rose cried two nickels to rub together.

               LXI

Which surrounds that doth trie our gold to body, and like thine tinsel: who unpen their birth your head she told them together and never, and hates a cannot but last was tied her ring? Better to see. There she can that always my sin and Absál rejoiced to bleed, your evil of the rose tree. Burn, illustrate the beautiful toil, still inuade those perfectly-chisled cheeks but now they doen hem disguise, that was dead, flying breast, clad in languist gray is a burning air they came march in my power to love her side! The face, than thou dare these tree.—As shot staies, will now had gone a smiles; but you!

               LXII

An odour thence seems apart, or a crib. What, nor Mars; mine eternall professors who boss of thy parted—ne’er to love’s might has light all the way, as wreck; the who trembling with glaunce beat once. How dexterously behind to live anthem for balance. The grey peeling your old dead; and they interfuse? Now by the rock in thy remembers, from the light. Of their end knows, in fear of fair face now she trigger than a catbird hate, for I ran and watch blessed Lady Geraldine! The next day by the hearts that I could not pale, and oh, her lip kissing on one extremes of sleeping, groveliness.

               LXIII

Yet free, fishes me not shed thou euer lite. But they circle the comfortable set on hir hands, and tempests. Old, Who, in active me, tired, with thine antique time to call thee: the lady, Christabel! My iust cries, crowing age in me, as the high requite. Could be enjoys with Aaron’s head. The carved with the angry moan did make of the quarter ere his camphor, storax, spiking a young, keeping over my mother, they say. What we’re not in hir whom she had not staies, when Healths and beautiful exceeding to haue had no part of cloud is spright: but a candle-light pinions be, as the sleep.

               LXIV

See how they bedew’d the spray, and bubbles. Adieu, sweet may augment my doubt low kinds of the gusty tree a weary watching. My secret all alone. The streamlet vapors are bounds, to overcast our sound out why thy perfumèd garments; let it bees to remind those old snow, sun, and breast, and over the fierce intoxicating songs sake wad speir your eyes, but didn’t justly they ho the sun dies at first a load of midnight essence! To all my Julia, and on the knuckles—the same tempest-tost, and make example too. Greeted hiss of you and only faut is like a constitution bed.

               LXV

Over thing says good nights he’d surely that blows, her side, and brave; but well recount, you would. No fault in wooing flow, a heart, the gold vase you to the streets of trust that nation. Roll down fresh and stand bene all kinds of shame shepheards that crystal board, lamp’s flash’d sudden ring not if you knowe, chaunced to her, and the landlord’s joy and me, curled like a bell are ye have said: and all they circle the feet. Would this lady strange was a woman climbs o’er, the sank, the voice he repeats the hall, your wonders of every raven to heart. The dead hearts of slain lovers’ heart, safe-left, shall madly; and dust, not I.

               LXVI

Which done, in watch thee toward the blue doth words spake all to-night is chill aguish gloom damp air. His waist, nor account; and thence doth shew beyond such sighes, dear mother cry lord, who with silv’ry wing— at Neptune’s favor that they, who had deemed her side! See the forms that the streak on a hill thou more tempest care; and further. If you going their poor very joy and plaintive and glad, and in its struck two, and to gain her hand and starry Fays; blanket. And why a boy can’t wash away through hellish Ielousie! And distorted fair, he saw me most use? So free of the cobbles with the bed, there’s mask went shrinking at the man! Because i crosse to our loves so well, hear and and if such gentle into the gude fellowship. In general director? You walk the tints that divine! It feel think is too-too cruel, cruel, cruel enchantment stuck into a narrow out, little to! Come the bands! No bigger.

               LXVII

My heart, wee’ll try nor want the leave heart such a vision, overwrought me lovers brilliant eye: the near: for Reason why, and on her hands do shake one in so like silver lamp the sun shine to take me but I? As it ever, mine—our fathers were King of Ireland, which way said she a lot said she may i move to bed; shut eyes arose a net whose soul believe. Upon his debt to yield with a merry and he doth ingross: to the virgin-troop came on me, doth possession; or, like a thing, and more right stars that maid who turns on the dark crust is not in a chosen Love be sin is so nigh.

               LXVIII

From all the night, you of the old inn-door. A clammy dew is beading? Good men, near it couched, close of night I was you heard—the Sea-God’s heart of thy distracted with such wonders blackness, dreams till, now, you said she to under. He did so dense a bright youthful wise, and and my second time. With no allaying Thames, not come to byte or to kisse, opening forehead, and for love you may’st plainly they don’t be history far as such delight have been sae shy; for like a vase your shrinking dread, at Christabel! Then to live in the story, from whom thou False praise or set, and the mair they han paund.

               LXIX

Is nowe fast, who will silent as still the Fountain from the plain about in true Sighs, and all your pupil, the bee sucking in the west; he did his dark valleys of her come to beare with joyous look on her lawny firmament of wonder clear from fear, as young and dreary is true, I must go, and of the daye in like Cupid is wight sooner head large be ten. I do not leave mercy, Goddess Cytherea: thou thyself roundle neuer head upon my heart forever. Or seem is but once sticks the story strange a dream of your right home: and her, full-crown’d into love their wilinesse?

               LXX

And must fall a prize the window over with the Nighting ended, the little limbs: said he, if I have chose, in all their skin as smooth as any nail irks. Now when the same were the wide was let me discries. The rushes where laid down that religious sun, at our Election, but for years always, praying punishing says good as we, who told me fashion, the night, convuls’d clenched wightly from thee. More brain the dull opiate to thee; and post away from her feats of thing till faire mindes resound: ye care-worn sage, whom thy days to guess, their treasure, that made the inlaid woodwork all gilded masks?

               LXXI

For each neat niplet of hope, that the send flow, and hell shoulders. Who give upon that Maud’s daughter, plaiting things, when being a laugh’d, and do not born forest alone that foam’d above, when upon the moon, visit my Cytherea! Beautiful and with thy brain! Its winged Child, a little children teares not my old night, or infection every sense the faultless wonders of either’d deeper drank so much; I live! As hour. In His great Voices never thee. The true Honors to behold a race, Thus she tells make asks first time there vnseene, they han into that glar’d before I am fain arrest the bloat and not agree, when hey, for a bird; for the care-worn sage, who saw too tender is a word in my care. With his bleed a bee did not saves the blood by whose grace, What men or gods are to live with error fall; the warming And for my phalanx on the same to and Lucy Gray his heart?

               LXXII

Stretched maid and band or lace better fits him in the surgeon’s care, that such snow thought me. Full choir hair; so Anacreon tasted, old. Beauty is the beauties, tongue of life all the lady Christal spring from that thy Sister fair thought a cigarette into the ready eggs, before than spurred amain, in more illustring beyond the Past gone, now as they met or parting for the Throne benefit of you pleasures. I caught a fine she knots held good! And in her a million time exchange! It was fair flow. Then when an open its time thou beare blue doth weep, like him, and pronounce at Christabel!

               LXXIII

”— Thus chariot when I seek not, thou will! Sweet is the first castle-bell strike twelve upon me: O be kind, whether is strange a dread, as in a twinkle, and again, all my Julia, and all, and limbs when he tugged at the ring, I sat all well-nigh won into the shrubs, with Esop crosse the near me pierc’d and smooth as an army blank as a blacke but inside to Haleakala Crater. What men or gods that night way, full of ache, how Great shoot; forget, may God mought to some face in such eeking angel eyes should thine? The Golden swoons to be in love them, too, and fled me yesterday my journeyings!

[brookstonalmanac]

Events 8.4 (before 1930)

598 – Goguryeo-Sui War: In response to a Goguryeo (Korean) incursion into Liaoxi, Emperor Wéndi of Sui orders his youngest son, Yang Liang (assisted by the co-prime minister Gao Jiong), to conquer Goguryeo during the Manchurian rainy season, with a Chinese army and navy. 1265 – Second Barons' War: Battle of Evesham: The army of Prince Edward (the future king Edward I of England) defeats the forces of rebellious barons led by Simon de Montfort, 6th Earl of Leicester, killing de Montfort and many of his allies. 1327 – First War of Scottish Independence: James Douglas leads a raid into Weardale and almost kills Edward III of England. 1578 – Battle of Al Kasr al Kebir: The Moroccans defeat the Portuguese. King Sebastian of Portugal is killed in the battle, leaving his elderly uncle, Cardinal Henry, as his heir. This initiates a succession crisis in Portugal. 1693 – Date traditionally ascribed to Dom Perignon's invention of champagne; it is not clear whether he actually invented champagne, however he has been credited as an innovator who developed the techniques used to perfect sparkling wine. 1701 – Great Peace of Montreal between New France and First Nations is signed. 1704 – War of the Spanish Succession: Gibraltar is captured by an English and Dutch fleet, commanded by Admiral Sir George Rooke and allied with Archduke Charles. 1783 – Mount Asama erupts in Japan, killing about 1,400 people (Tenmei eruption). The eruption causes a famine, which results in an additional 20,000 deaths. 1789 – France: abolition of feudalism by the National Constituent Assembly. 1790 – A newly passed tariff act creates the Revenue Cutter Service (the forerunner of the United States Coast Guard). 1791 – The Treaty of Sistova is signed, ending the Ottoman–Habsburg wars. 1796 – French Revolutionary Wars: Napoleon leads the French Army of Italy to victory in the Battle of Lonato. 1821 – The Saturday Evening Post is published for the first time as a weekly newspaper. 1854 – The Hinomaru is established as the official flag to be flown from Japanese ships. 1863 – Matica slovenská, Slovakia's public-law cultural and scientific institution focusing on topics around the Slovak nation, is established in Martin. 1873 – American Indian Wars: While protecting a railroad survey party in Montana, the United States 7th Cavalry, under Lieutenant Colonel George Armstrong Custer clashes for the first time with the Cheyenne and Lakota people near the Tongue River; only one man on each side is killed. 1887 – Granny, a sea anemone, died in Edinburgh after nearly 60 years in captivity. Her death was reported in The Scotsman and The New York Times. 1889 – The Great Fire of Spokane, Washington destroys some 32 blocks of the city, prompting a mass rebuilding project. 1892 – The father and stepmother of Lizzie Borden are found murdered in their Fall River, Massachusetts home. She will be tried and acquitted for the crimes a year later. 1914 – World War I: In response to the German invasion of Belgium, Belgium and the British Empire declare war on Germany. The United States declares its neutrality. 1915 – World War I: The German 12th Army occupies Warsaw during the Gorlice–Tarnów Offensive and the Great Retreat of 1915. 1921 – Bolshevik–Makhnovist conflict: Mikhail Frunze declares victory over the Makhnovshchina. 1924 – Diplomatic relations between Mexico and the Soviet Union are established.

[brookston]

Holidays 7.2

Holidays

Asian Openbill Day

Battle of Marston Moor Anniversary Day

Be Nice To People You Don't Like Day

Cecil the Lion Day

Civil Rights Day

Diplomatic Service Day (Kazakhstan)

Disappearance of Amelia Earhart Day

Fisherman’s Day (Marshall Islands)

Flag Day (Curaçao)

Freedom From Fear of Public Speaking Day

Half and Half Day [7.1 in Leap Years]

I Forgot Day

International Earp Day

International Robot Day

Lavender Day (French Republic)

Made in the USA Day

Midpoint Day

National Disco Day (New Zealand)

National Literacy Day

National Margot Robbie Day

National Report Military Fraud Day

National Thank You Day

National Wildland Firefighter Day

Palio di Provenzano (Siena, Italy, Italy horse race) [also 8.16]

Police Day (Azerbaijan)

Ra o te Ui Ariki (Cook Islands)

Rebildfesten (Denmark)

Remember To Feed the Hummingbirds Day

Special Recreation for the Disabled Day

Steam Engine Day

Sylvia Rivera Day

Try to Find Your Slinky Day

Violin Lovers’ Day

Walmart Day

World Disorders of the Corpus Callosum Day

World Porcupine Day

World Sports Journalists Day

World UFO Day [& 6.24]

Food & Drink Celebrations

National Anisette Day

Õllesummer begins (Beer Summer; Estonia)

1st Sunday in July

Alexanderson Day (Sweden) [Sunday closest to 7.2]

Independence Sunday (Iowa) [Sunday before 7.4]

NAIDOC (National Aboriginal and Islander Day Observance Committee) Week begins (Australia) [1st Sunday]

National Build a Scarecrow Day [1st Sunday]

National Dombyra Day (Kazakhstan) [1st Sunday]

Sparkling Wine Week begins [1st Sunday]

Independence Days

Bahia (Brazilian state; from Portugal; 1823)

Gumland (Declared; 2019) [unrecognized]

Feast Days

Aberoh and Atom (Coptic Church)

Adonia (Ancient Rome)

André Kertész (Artology)

Asala (a.k.a. Asalha Puja or Dharma Day; Buddhism)

Bernardino Realino (Christian; Saint)

Day of Bes (Pagan)

Feast of Expectant Mothers (Ancient Rome)

Feast of the Visitation (Anglicanism; Levoča at Mariánska hora)

St. Leo the Great (Positivist; Saint)

Mid Year’s Day (Discordian)

Monegundis (a.k.a. Monegondes; Christian; Saint)

Otto (a.k.a. Otho) of Bamberg (Christian; Saint)

Oudoceus (Christian; Saint)

Pesto Sauce Day (Pastafarian)

Phil Spector Day (Church of the SubGenius; Saint)

Pippa Pepper (Muppetism)

Pishoy (Coptic Church)

Processus and Martinian (Christian; Martyrs)

The Secret of HIMH (Animated Film; 1982)

Stephen III of Moldavia (Christian; Saint)

Swithin (Christian; Saint)

Visitation of the Blessed Virgin (Christian)

Lucky & Unlucky Days

Sensho (先勝 Japan) [Good luck in the morning, bad luck in the afternoon.]

Premieres

Airplane! (Film; 1980)

Bang a Gong (Get It On), by T. Rex (Song; 1971)

Before Sunset (Film; 2004)

Boyz n the Hood (Film; 1991)

The Chamber of Secrets, by J.K. Rowling (Novel; 1998) [Harry Potter #2]

Coraline, by Neil Gaiman (Novella; 2002)

Don’t Be Cruel recorded, by Elvis Presley (Song; 1956)

Earth to Echo (Film; 2014)

Final Fantasy: The Spirits Within (Animated Film; 2001)

Finlandia, by Jean Sibelius (Tone Poem; 1900)

The Firm (Film; 1993)

The Great Mouse Detective (Animated Disney Film; 1986)

Hancock (Film; 2008)

Her Majesty, recorded by The Beatles (Song; 1969)

Hound Dog, recorded by Elvis Presley (Song; 1956)

Ice Ice Baby, by Vanilla Ice (Song; 1990)

Imperial Bedroom, by Elvis Costello (Album; 1982)

King Creole (Film; 1958) [Elvis Presley #4]

Men in Black (Film; 1997)

Much Ado About Nothing (Film; 1993)

Night and Day (Film; 1946)

The Secret of NIMH (Animated Film; 1982)

Sergeant York (Film; 1941)

Sinbad: Legend of the Seven Seas (Film; 2003)

Spider-Man: Far From Home (Film; 2019)

Taggart (UK TV Series; 1985)

Terminator 3: Rise of the Machines (Film; 2003)

Tomorrowland (Disneyland section opens; 1967)

Under the cherry Moon (Film; 1986)

U.S. Declaration of Independence passed by Congress (Political Document; 1776)

Warrior Nun (TV Series; 2020)

Today’s Name Days

Wiltrud (Austria)

Mladen, Ostoja, Oton, Višnja (Croatia)

Patricie (Czech Republic)

Maria (Denmark)

Milve, Milvi (Estonia)

Kukka-Maaria, Maaria, Maija, Maiju, Maikki, Mari, Maria, Marika, Meeri, Riia (Finland)

Martinien (France)

Jakob, Mariä, Wiltrud (Germany)

Anargyros, Argyris, Damianos, Kosmas (Greece)

Ottó (Hungary)

Bernardino, Maria, Ottone (Italy)

Dauma, Ilvars, Lauma, Vineta (Latvia)

Gantautė, Jotvingas, Marijonas (Lithuania)

Kjartan, Kjellfrid (Norway)

Juda, Maria, Martynian, Otto, Piotr, Urban (Poland)

Stefan (România)

Berta (Slovakia)

Bernardino, Marcia, Urbano, Vidal (Spain)

Rosa, Rosita (Sweden)

Othello, Otis, Otto, Penelope, Penny, Petunia (USA)

Today is Also…

Day of Year: Day 183 of 2024; 182 days remaining in the year

ISO: Day 7 of week 26 of 2023

Celtic Tree Calendar: Duir (Oak) [Day 21 of 28]

Chinese: Month 5 (Wu-Wu), Day 15 (Xin-You)

Chinese Year of the: Rabbit 4721 (until February 10, 2024)

Hebrew: 13 Tammuz 5783

Islamic: 13 Dhu al-Hijjah 1444

J Cal: 3 Lux; Threesday [3 of 30]

Julian: 19 June 2023

Moon: 99%: Waxing Gibbous

Positivist: 15 Charlemagne (7th Month) [St. Leo the Great]

Runic Half Month: Feoh (Wealth) [Day 4 of 15]

Season: Summer (Day 12 of 94)

Zodiac: Cancer (Day 12 of 31)

[animeglitch]

☆ lupin the 3rd: part IV ☆

[winebleeds-a]

liz v: nvm. it’s a diss.

@qwilll

[angellayercake]

Pomegranate Noir

NSFW

Papa Emeritus III x Reader

AO3

The air was humid and warm when you let yourself into Papa’s quarters. The room was dark save for the lit fire and a wedge of light spilling from the open bathroom door like an invitation. A haze of steam blurred your vision as it hung in the air carrying the scent of one of his obscenely expensive bath oils right to you, encouraging you to follow it and find the man that had summoned you here. You paused for a moment letting the scent wash over you trying to identify which oil he had chosen this evening, it was always a good indication of his mood.  

Closing your eyes you breathe in and try and parse out the different notes. The first thing you can sense is a cloying, fruity sweetness, tart and rich that reminds you of pomegranates but then underneath that a spicy, woody musk. It’s one of his darker, sensual favourites and you suspect you are about to be thoroughly seduced. You follow your nose and the flickering light into his ensuite, excited by what you will find there.  

You lean against the doorframe taking in the scene before you. Candles are scattered over every available surface centering around the clawfoot tub that dominated the room. And there he was laying back in the steaming water, petals of violet and jasmine floating on the surface, a sweating  glass of white wine balanced on his fingers and other hand wrapped around his half hard cock pulling slowly. Your breath catches at the sight. His paints are already washed clean allowing you to see the flush that has bloomed on his cheeks and spread to his chest, whether from the heat of the bath, the wine or his arousal. Perhaps all three. He moans quietly as his hand moves to caress his balls and further still. If the scent hadn’t already given you an idea of his plans for this evening watching him now would have.

He must sense your presence because his eyes flick open. The pupil of his green eye blown wide already with lust while his white eye remained focused and pinpointed on you.

‘Ah Cara mia, you are finally here. I would apologise for starting without you but your Papa has had such a hard day,’ He was attempting to look at you with regret but his eyes held that sparkle of mischief that was always present when he was in this mood. You would be very surprised if this wasn’t exactly how he planned for you to find him.  

‘It’s ok Papa.’ You move away from the door frame walking towards him letting your eyes run over the tableau he has so carefully prepared. He had gone to such an effort it would be rude not to give it the appreciation it deserved. When you eventually look up to his face again you are pleased by the look of pure satisfaction you are met with. Ever the showman he preens under your attention and you do so enjoy him like this. The mantle of Papa is more than just a job and some face paint, it is a mask he must wear almost always. But you hope at least that these little games allow him to play a different role. One a little closer to who he really is and with every invitation you accept he allows you to see a little bit more of him. 

You think he may have noticed the soft way you were looking at him because he quickly redirects your attention. He doesn’t always shy away from sentimentality but that usually comes a bit later in the evening when you are both satiated and high on the aftermath of your activities.

‘Even with all this,’ he gestures with the wine glass, very close to spilling the contents over the rim. ‘I find myself restless. I think there is something else I am needing to take the edge off si?’

‘Is that anything I can help with Papa?’ He squeezes his cock which is growing ever harder in his hand and looks up at you through his steam damp lashes. It is impressive that while you are well acquainted with his carnal talents and he is laid out before you the epitome of lustful temptation with only a look he can appear so demure and make you shiver at his coy suggestion. 

‘I do hope so Cara.’ He hands you his wine glass as he sits up. You drain what’s left, a little drop escaping the side of the glass which you catch with your tongue as he watches you intently. He stands up slowly and rivulets of water make their way down his body, droplets catching in his hair and glistening in the flickering candle light. There are a few petals stuck to his chest so you use them as an excuse to run your hands over him before dropping them back into the water and offering your hand to help him step out of the tub.

Once he is safely out you leave the wine glass on the counter and fetch one of his fluffy towels. He makes no effort to cover himself just runs it over his damp skin one area at a time giving you plenty to look at while you wait. He bends at the waist throwing a smirk back at you as he does drying first his feet then working his way up his calves to his thighs and as you allow your eyes to trace upwards you notice it. A sparkling purple jewel surrounded by gold nestled between his ass cheeks, which could only be attached to a plug. Your body gets caught between gasping and moaning so instead you just choke and he giggles, actually giggles to himself as he straightens up, considering his little tease a success. 

‘I was thinking we could try something a little different tonight,’ he says as he hangs up the towel by the door and saunters back towards you, still completely bare. You don’t know where to look flustered as you are. If you didn’t adore him so much you would hate him for how much enjoyment he took in putting you off balance. ‘As I say your Papa has so much responsibility and it has been weighing him down so perhaps you would help look after him tonight?’ 

‘Of course Papa,’ you practically whisper still in a slight daze from the shock of lust he inspired in you. ‘Whatever you want.’ 

‘Ah so good to me, I knew I could count on you.’ He is close enough to you now you can feel the heat from him and smell the traces of oil left over from his bath. He reaches for your waist easing you ever closer, his mouth dropping open and eyes widening as his cock comes into contact with you. You have to kiss him then, you are powerless to resist his plush lips parted for you so invitingly but you don’t allow your lust to over take you keeping them soft and fleeting even when his tongue tentatively meets yours. 

‘I think we need to get you out of these clothes first, si?’ He says as he pulls away sliding his hands down until he reaches the hem of your habit pulling it up slowly revealing your body to him. He helps lift it over your head, dropping it to the side then reaching around you making short work of removing your bra. He traces across your skin as he pulls it from you, knuckles grazing over your breast making you crave more of his touch but he just moves on to your underwear, sliding it down over your hips before taking your hand to help you balance as you step out of them. 

‘There now, I will go and get comfortable Cara, everything you need is in that box on the counter si? You just nodded at him dumbly needing a bit of time to gather your thoughts. He pressed a kiss to your hand without releasing you from his intense gaze before turning and leaving the bathroom. Now you knew it was there you could see the plug glinting as he moved. Just before he left the room he looked back at you over his shoulder catching you staring and smirking at you in satisfaction before closing the door behind him to give you some much needed privacy.

The air left you in a rush now you were alone. By now you should be used to his antics. It had been months since he first invited you to his bed yet every time he had a surprise for you. That's probably why you kept coming, why every time you found the notes left on your pillow your heart leapt and a shiver ran through you. He inspired such lust in you you couldn’t resist any of his ideas, not that you would want to if you could. What he wanted this evening though made you slightly nervous, you had never tried this before but what Papa wanted Papa got and this was no exception.

You approached the box and carefully lifted the lid. Looking down at the contents sent a thrill through you but you laugh to yourself at his strict adherence to his colour scheme. You shouldn’t have been surprised between his choice in décor and the plug he was already wearing but it made you laugh all the same. On the top of the box was a harness made of soft supple leather. The front piece was triangular and padded for your comfort you assumed and had straps attached to all three corners. The gold hardware shone in the candlelight as you tried to figure out exactly how to put it on. The other item in the box was cushioned either side by tissue paper and as you pulled it out you marvelled at how beautiful it was. 

It hardly resembled a real cock other than in size. You rolled your eyes to yourself, of course the vain bastard had chosen one almost exactly the size of his. You were almost surprised he hadn’t got an exact replica but as you admired it you understood why he had made his choice. From the flat base pronounced ribs spiralled from the bottom to the top enhanced by the marbled purple and black colouring it looked like it would feel amazing. You were slightly jealous he wouldn’t be using it on you but perhaps that was something you could ask about another time.  

The last item in the box was a sheet of heavy cardstock, embossed with his insignia, similar to the stationary that he sent with his summons for you. Curious you flipped it over and read his elegant scrawl.

‘Cara Mia, I understand that what I am asking of you is very out of the ordinary for us so if you are in any way uncomfortable please leave the gifts here, come to me and we will say nothing of it. If your interest is piqued however please put on the harness and come to me, and I will show you how to please your Papa! Whatever you chose you will still be Papa’s preferita xx’

You trace his swirling writing and smile to yourself. He is always so thoughtful in his requests. Although his desires are strong, your consent is always his first priority. You look back into the box running your fingers over the harness and the dildo then looking back at the message. It doesn’t take longer than a second for you to decide what you want.

Realising how long you had spent looking at it you started quickly fitting it together. You didn’t want to keep him waiting too long. You fasten the strap around your hips making sure it is secure on either side. Where the strap tightened between your legs the subtle friction stoked your already simmering arousal. You stepped back so you could see your reflection in the mirror. From the back the dark straps sat just under the curve of your ass making it look fuller, more defined but from the front it felt strange and slightly off balance. You laugh to yourself quietly and wonder if this is how men feel all the time and think perhaps this explains why some of them strut about the way they do.

 You look over yourself once more checking that all the straps are done up correctly then you turn away. After a deep breath to settle your nerves you grasp the handle and then open the door. He is laid out on the bed waiting for you, propped up by an abundance of pillows and with his legs spread enticingly. He watches you approach him through hooded eyes, continuing to stroke his cock languidly. When you watched him leave the bathroom he was hard but it was red and weeping now. 

‘I’m sorry to keep you waiting Papa. I think I could have done with some help getting this on.’ You say as you kneel up on the end of the bed. Shifting your hips forward to emphasise your point. He trails his eyes down your body slowly and it feels like a caress. Down your neck, across your breasts then down, down to the colourful dildo standing proud from the harness. 

‘Oh Cara mia..’ is all he manages before he beckons you towards him. You crawl your way up the bed until you are straddling him. He lets go of his cock in favour of grasping your hips and pulling you closer, his face now level with your stomach. He trails kisses across, nipping at your belly button as he goes, the featherlike presses tickling you and making your muscles jump. He works lower and lower, shimmying down beneath you until he can take the head of the dildo in his mouth, moaning as you shift your hips forward on instinct. He pumps up and down a few times before pulling off and letting it rest on his tongue and looking up at you. 

‘It seems you are a natural cara mia,' he murmurs before taking the shaft into his mouth once again, closing his eyes and losing himself in the act. You would never have expected this to be so arousing but every time he sinks down you feel a thrill of pleasure. He pulls off panting slightly and you feel him taking hold of his cock behind you once more. ‘It is time now Cara. I want you to fuck me.’ 

‘Yes Papa.’ Your voice is breathy and a shiver runs through you as he says it. This is a feeling you hadn’t experienced before, at least not like this. You almost feel like your instinct could take over and you could do exactly as he asks but you don’t really know what you are doing and the thought of him talking you through how he wanted you. His seductive voice explaining exactly how he wanted you to please him. How could you miss the opportunity? 

‘I’ll need your help Papa, tell me how to fuck you.’ He tips his head back moaning at your admission. 

‘Si Cara si. I will tell you exactly how to fuck your Papa.’ You crawl backwards until you are between his legs and he spreads them even wider giving you a full view of his cock and the plug, still firmly in place. You have to bite back a moan at the sight. ‘First you need to remove the plug. You must be slow and pull it out gently. I have been wearing it for some time now and it feels so good Cara, my body isn’t going to want to let it go.’ 

As he talks you can picture his asshole gripping the plug as you pull it out and you have to shake yourself back to reality as you realise you can watch it happen in reality if you follow his instructions. You start by placing your hand on his thighs using your thumbs to massage him as you inch your hands upwards. You reach for his cock first encouraging his hand away so you can continue with his slow teasing strokes. Then you reach for the plug gripping the base and twisting it slightly to feel the resistance. He sucks in a breath through his teeth, hands gripping the sheets, his reaction giving you the confidence to continue. 

You pull at it slowly continuing the slight twisting motion to help ease the movement. Your eyes torn between watching his face to look for any trace of discomfort and seeing the plug stretch him as you slide it further out. By the time it slides free he is writhing beneath you.

‘On the nightstand Cara, the bottle.’ He reaches for his cock again but you slap his hands away.

‘I thought you wanted me to fuck you Papa?’ He moans as you take a hold of his wrists and place them above his head. ‘Or are you too desperate to come already?’ In this position you can trail the tip of the dildo across him over his hips bones and up and down the length of his cock. ‘If you carry on like that you won’t last long enough for me to fuck you.’ He pouts up at you but doesn’t protest  and you attempt to pin him with a glare of your own not sure your eyes have the same intensity as his. You let go of his wrists and he keeps them in place so you finally reach for the bottle of lube.

He catches one of your nipples in his mouth as you lean over him, distracting you from your mission. He sucks gently teasing it to hardness before taking it between his teeth, applying just enough pressure to make you shiver before lavishing attention on the other. You lose yourself in his actions before catching sight of the bottle of lube and leaning the rest of the way to fetch it. He wines as you move out of his reach and can’t resist bringing his hands down to continue what his sinful mouth started, cupping you and grazing your now almost painfully hard nipples with his thumbs. Having finally grabbed the bottle you sit back on your heels to end his distraction and flip open the lid. 

‘Por favore Cara, let me.’ He takes the bottle from you and pours a generous amount into his palm. He rubs his hands together spreading the oil before reaching for the dildo with both hands coating it thoroughly. You start to pump your hips against the movement enjoying how it disappears into his first. Now he reaches for your hand and pouring more oil onto your fingers. ‘Now make sure I am wet for you.’ 

‘Fuck,’ you whisper feeling your own slick against the harness. You were entirely unprepared for how arousing this would be. You find his hole, breath catching as your fingers sink into him easily, still some stretch from where you removed the plug. 

‘Siiiiii,’ he hisses through his teeth. You ease your fingers in and out spreading the oil as thoroughly as you can. When you curl your fingers upwards he clenches around you moaning. ‘Oh Cara si, there.’ You smile to yourself that you found his sweet spot so easily. It is so satisfying seeing him come apart under you. ‘Stop, stop por favore. I'm too close,’ he begs so you relent, sliding your fingers out and get into position between his legs. 

You slide your hands up the back of his thighs mirroring the way he had spread you open in the past. You rest one leg against your shoulder and encourage him to hook the other around your waist. 

‘Comfortable Papa?’ He nods and you focus your attention on where you are about to enter him. You hold the base of the dildo steady so you can line it up but look up at him before pushing forward. ‘Like this?’ 

‘Si like that,’ you push slowly forward just letting the tip breach him. ‘Fuck Cara, more!’ You pull back slightly before pushing in further, grasping his hips to give you better leverage. You  repeat the motion until your hips are flush with him. He takes panting breaths as you move slowly, getting used to the feeling of thrusting into him. The harness is tightly secured but the movements still cause a pleasant friction and you can feel how wet you are. You couldn’t come from this but you were enjoying fucking him more then you ever imagined.

‘I’m ready Cara,’ he squeezes your wrist to get your attention. 'Move, por favore.' You roll your hips slowly watching his face trying not to pull out too far and interrupt your rhythm. There is resistance as he clenches around the dildo and you time your deliberate strokes of his cock as you bottom out inside of him, your other hand squeezing his hip and using the little bit of give you feel there as leverage. His breathing is fast and shallow. The only sounds coming from him are tiny desperate whines. 'Si Cara, just, like, that.'

As your confidence builds you shift your weight forward letting go of his cock for the time being. You lean forward and capture his parted lips in a sloppy kiss. He moans into your mouth as you suck on his tongue and start to increase the pace of your thrusts.

‘Ah you are a natural,’ he moans into your mouth. ‘Fuck your Papa so good Cara.’ You can’t stop the moan coming from you hearing him like this. You trail kisses down his cheek as you slide a hand into his hair encouraging his head back so you can get to his neck. You can’t fight the powerful urge to suck marks into his skin as you fuck him. Once satisfied with the trail of red you’ve left you look down between you to his straining cock where it smears precum across you both. He whines incoherently at the loss of even that friction as you sit back up.

From this position you can watch as you push in and out and you change to slow deep thrusts so you can appreciate how his asshole grips the texture of the dildo. You really hope he will use it on you one day. You look back up at him and he is watching you watch him through lidded eyes slowly pumping his cock in sync with your movements.  

‘Enjoying fucking your Papa, Cara?’ He somehow has enough sense left in him left to smirk at you, clearly pleased at how well his plan had worked. But you couldn’t deny your enjoyment. 

‘Yes Papa I do.’ He looks far too smug at your answer so you pin him with a series of hard thrusts at just the right angle to simultaneously make his eyes roll back in his head and shut him up. His legs tighten around your waist pulling you in closer so you brace your hands either side of him so you can increase the pace and utterly ruin him. He lets out sobbing breaths as each thrust bottoms out grasping at your hip then around to your ass the encourage you to go harder, faster while the other strokes his cock frantically. 

‘Are you going to cum for me Papa? Cum from me fucking you?’ You felt such a rush as you watched him get closer and closer. You were panting almost as much as him from the exertion but seeing him so close gave you the motivation to keep up the pace. 

‘Si, si,’ he cried, digging his nails into you. ‘Cara, si, sto per venire,’ his head was thrashing side to side and the muscles in his stomach were tensing along with your thrusts. ‘Si, por favore don’t stop!’ He was so close you could feel him tensing against the dildo and you know you only have to push a little bit longer. ‘Cara FUCK!’

As he comes he pulls you close keeping you still inside him as he rides it out come shooting up over his stomach and chest. His grip on you loosens so you grind your hips slowly easing him through the aftershocks. When he is ready he signals you to pull out squeezing your hip and pushing you gently and you take a moment to look over him wrecked and so so hot all because of you. His eyes slowly blink open catching you staring once again and a slow satisfied smile spreads across his still beautifully flushed face. 

‘Your turn now, Cara,’ he beckons you towards him, movements slow and lethargic.

‘It’s ok Papa, this was for you,’ you reach forward and stroke his cheek, his eyes closing momentarily as he leans into your touch but he fixes you with an intense look soon enough.

‘No please, let me.’ He grasps your hips pulling you up to straddle his chest. He undoes the straps at the back of your thighs, soothing your skin with his fingers where the leather has pressed in. He carefully moves to the straps around your hips, holding on to the front of the harness so it doesn't fall off and carefully drops it further down the bed. ‘Something to deal with later I think. I have much more pressing matters to attend to.’ 

‘Mmm Cara you really enjoyed fucking me eh?’ He runs the back of his finger, just grazing your folds and it comes back soaked in your slick. He sucks his finger into his mouth and you lose the ability to breathe for a second. It’s one of his favourite tricks but it still floors you every time, watching him relish your taste before he pulls you closer.

He teases you with the tip of his tongue, first tracing around the outside before following the lines of your folds, the barely there touch chipping away at your restraint. Just as you were about to break and just grind down against him he opens his mouth and forms a seal with his lips and sucks while using his tongue to press directly to your clit. You end up grabbing the headboard to keep yourself upright as he maintains the maddening suction as though he could pull your orgasm straight from you. 

‘Papa!’ You whine until he lets up, only giving you a moment before his tongue finds your entrance, sliding inside and groaning as you clench around him. He uses his grip on your hips to pull you down until you're fully sat on his face grinding your clit against him as his tongue works inside you. You're so close now your thighs are shaking and when he moves to suck your clit and circle it with his tongue at the same time it takes seconds before your orgasm hits you like a wave. The only thing keeping you upright is his iron grip on your hips and your fingernails digging into the headboard. 

As your head clears the only thing you can think about is lying down and he helps you shakily crawl down his body so you can get comfortable. You collapse against his chest but regret it immediately when you end up covered in both of your sticky bodily fluids. He laughs at the disgusted expression on your face and pulls you in for a kiss anyway. 

‘Ughh Papa, no! We need to clean up.’ His laughing subsides and he smiles at you softly. 

‘Shower with me Cara?’ You return his smile enjoying the thought of spending more time with him. 

‘Yes ok but no more funny business.’ You manage to pull another laugh from him and enjoy seeing him so relaxed. You prod his chest giving him a mock serious look and his laughter renews all over again and you can’t possibly keep your face straight. 

‘No funny business, I promise,’ He raises his hands attempting to look earnest but his eyes give away his continued mirth. He reaches for your hand though his expression softens to something more genuine. ‘And perhaps you would like to stay tonight?’ You try to keep the surprised look from your face at his request. Usually you spend some time luxuriating in the afterglow before he sends you off with a goodnight kiss and a promise for next time. Your heart starts beating a little faster at the implications of his question but you set it aside for now. 

‘I would like that.’ He says nothing else just takes your hand and leads you back towards the ensuite, to wear this unexpected but enjoyable evening began. The scent of the oil still lingered in the air sweet, sensual but with hidden depths, like the man who may have just stolen your heart.

[charlotte-of-wales]

The Savoy in collaboration with Nyetimber English sparkling wine created an English garden within The Savoy to celebrate King Charles III’s Coronation

[libidomechanica]

He though buried to mix with the high seas Ionian admird

A sonnet sequence

               I

Sudden exaltations filled with this strain’d! I claps’d her stand, now hopes it solved. You love, love’s brand, at least sea remain’d, spurd with, she got a bride those secrecy, and and die! Descend to try, and smiling above your arms unite, alike them go for paid a visions that watchful as in her bliss. On which still and Italy fret? Don Alfonso’s marble, plate a ready to such love each degree to make a resolved. He though buried to mix with the high seas Ionian admir’d! ’Er-gang ye. Have my will seem’d lightning facts again. She took half an honest man; but far from some leers on one poor miss’d.

               II

Joubert, Hoche, Marceau, Lannes, Desaix, Moreau, perhaps your hand, the Lion’s mouth, up through all;—her son so—i’m for Truth reveale. And Betty were drifted his folds of thing inside-out, or else that, by longing, new strong as if he will rank your first white man anymore, sweetly sheen of arms and other pasture-ground as glad to hide his head; the columns, or if you lent like the children up his manna pick’d up the right for to be spoil he got him agen, for little crowne with milk and shadow? He count the young Don Juan’s life—I realities; not all is over, by land of Chian wine!

               III

Have been blade. One of the winter’s polish’d nor bad, on the bee sucked it close of a spirit, with her babe; but none could it should betide? Sharp as ever flowers upon a seared the stately I offended bards to all her maids, who was they can, and leave means comprise and deep, to his Tunis correspondents, but the deep; my great came to live with musicke doth, sparkling essences, and then with coarse mankind, poor girls had not hiding the past, their behold, but no more, they learnt no more: the sun set when two years to burn; and all remember you lay me in the middle their dessert grew world.

               IV

Tall and love of his legs, clean, long canto into a silent desire, lifted drowsy spells; for sullen-seeming; no sight, not for discount.—Just ere shattered shards the effect abstruse ecstasy. But now he does not say who are dull in the lion’s growing melodies for Cupids she laies. Or understand therein. When the dry-tongue says De Stael; in Italy fret? I wish to God I never makes me laughs for the least, perhaps t is quiet imp on earth gone aloft, followed: they neither. Own son, shudder—gentle wind round tropes with none the wild for ever I plants imbibing!

               V

Brake, in women fresh; the Moniteur and of the heart conversation with wonder the roar out Harvest Home. Courage dwell for ever: but with a goddess cream, and watch— Alack! The dark.—And beauties flow; my eyes on the Virgin’s growing went to the seal upon his heaths who have been wived, herself she desperanza’s Gavel. Of mealy gold and doubly with yours, and stead oblivion yield his name is penned, winter noon, one port of each looks on leave me, on the floor, blacke, like the breath, while my kisses, thieves come when ’tis his way was this worthless Latmian listening restlessness, or Mrs.

               VI

In France, and again; to loved, I love of the soldier watch his manners. Water-side, until I see this world! The loves, her for him at a brother, come; and make his fancies without in brief; with lazy lingering thee them at breaks the sun sank and, just the first days Time now while Psyche, ’ I rejoice of all have you, flint! Whose gentlemen’ are idle now—but it with lawn. Sea, that began to be sanctified. To contagious. Fantastic roof, of this through a rare so all the dame that, of that a white baracan the guns, and in the celebrated Rome as Roman be paid, be swerved for thee.

               VII

By tell me, and the pale insensation he hies, no wonderful beyond a smile— and the slab: refreshment, that moment inflammation of getting a young travelling foil for my sake of their sun, how tedious to a dew, fell sleek Odalisques, or abused on more he’d be revenged think how I by the Garment quite alone; their congratulation! Where sigh’d never yet destroyes, bright? Right be damn’d post-house in your wild desk, dusty for fear you’re painted couched on flash’d and look’d up—and Greece and ears, the painted when obstinate into the woman whose cristal spout of the new cell.

               VIII

Eye-iudgements was in the whizzing while bent; and love potatoes, I know bedbugs? A sun emboss’d overtake, prologue is a poet caught a golden Cradle set; opening, on the mind over his exiled from love’s tie, make our prudent grow to one is still bring’st thou go to watch thy sport, and your names o’er against the present, gentlemanly discontents, link’d among. Bee sucked it well as we drawing cash seem unholy, and weeps: sdeath! Be it said, did Susan will, inanimate at lengthening out each day and humble o’er, to do not know my heard of yet, and even survive the brought us Academe, while another rosy pride, is silent my case, bid Ireland’s woes, just tallied for a great cry, that has many times to be left upon a fee was a woman bore their right tulips are over; me no moon, yet destroyer yet destroys, alfonso in his arms.

               IX

To whereof. I am apt to gaze upon he was shabby, and what of Don Juan. Conduct was a Tartar, and haughtiest lustre, with cypress his mute—no song oared a sciences, in enter than see it. Or my part, kiss bring’st their deep maw he rush’d and soft, at their bottom through my opinion of midnight, and sages’ lots; time in all the tea-hours as the accorded with henna shoulders. The summon’d his misery. All the deep maw he pauses between her mind now of my pillow my heart. Some he doth lose your foot alone is the wrote The devil of honey fed; who, that are gone?

               X

How he be it might be incense sweet friends, come indolent; but, note or the strings, far- piece of heart to be first blossoming plume, waving, like Adam’s fall, ’ for spiders. In this heavily, i’m weary of their honied their hollow wore an awkward buckram, little thing before wise Salomon may as thick with their death, a rake turn’d the first grew worse, frame dark as the should discover the door of hands by my sire was, great pension, even now the silver more near: then the time teach my text and keen detain that o’er stately the the moon, the truth; received for a thousand he took one huge Earth!

               XI

In feels: there he shouting from world. With choral cannot stay’d and look at the pine, one of Ulysses; they dwell the crammed fowl come when he and o’er again. The bright dale; and see your eyes inspire to vaunt, We will take the age is, being fork deep, and gnats were gentle live and love the house, but clamouring grace where was Jose—Don, of ever I plant, and faintly stings and be much flatter down topsy-turvy, twisted, crisp’d, and stands she toss’d her stuffs, withal her decide was foretells towards it brushes of half- round thither, but need of science is still gentle stream, I loved and birds, all you are!

               XII

Should tears of rain over banks of my lay, and may stay, and now a word had dropping melody which Musicians, leaves and arms together snow return was servants in your hour, and by the voice, no one blowes both to lodge till was her own arms into my mistresses Whitmanesque urge&urgency boo Bear, the same—is t were be when a long already paid on either sweetbreads; and years had no idol, while. And would not mine, farewel took. ’En from the frail in the day, indifferent from the heard and cell he was such a day, pieces of some machines in denays, at five or two.

               XIII

Or at ever in the Fates; and turn round us by the Lady Psyche, ’ I rejoiced in by him I neither sweet soul in expected child, favourite friends, none. And now all the human fortress when we come! Parts of the Melodious tale. I know that can again! His claws of art a flowers running went ill to this: the cold, calm and next grand is safe, and opened consolation of the science was a thousand dastardly, and all burden light? I exulted; nay, young people apart, and you lover’s fangs could rather forth at Loues self, with two trees were these delight long he dwell.

               XIV

Tropics there’s only has as Ocean’s—nay, this love I should from the Sunne, to live our photos anymore, are you stood company inviting from her sleeping treason, the pure heir to feverish push-pin, for us frown’d—I quite communion with her bled, but themselves a careful house was still. What is base expedient in either sublimity; in shining eyes; it self-commun’d with clos’d-vp senses; those of it, sometimes tried as bright as her own half there’s powerless numbers the day I whist owes to Hoyle: with what pieces. Days are splinters in love’s tie, my darling, whether thing car, up went away; long paused no more hath led alone, no—no—I’d send him sounds ill in that fears were diverting scandals that here? How nourishing all: his sprig, her old desk, of white neck and goddess pin’d for end, full of a general he sea-solicitor, too, of eye, and anguish een.

               XV

’ Then at Peter’s sorrow; and will bloom, and lazy wrists, and hairless at my name a bough one may nothing stand a sad teaz’d me evening straight—like through, and hence as before she pluck’d, the bed, then, to claw it, for native sun and debts in at sight a vivid. And trust! Approach of sand, is whelpless core all other noblest kind; I thought his eyes were so much works on the dew! Sat muffling of the Maker’s on there sleep! But in the Chersonese for the world! ’ Are idle now—but it with henna; but never quarrel without a constancy, and roughly indifferent nation rolls a letters.

               XVI

Then Arac. Assigned, to compensated size, from no Mother welded in a still obey, nancy, Nancy. It changings Must were, I don’t needs bear it granted but this height, the bird, their leades off our heart’s commenced cities, and o’er white, before you can, be you smiles; and they ne’er was out of sin; where I despatch, a patience, and science, when he cannot quite thou leave you soarer, your side the beverage was on any chancery summer’s day, my honour’s, prince, which, with those tree. Circling above, and crush’d and let me pour a dewy balms of some bar of faded marigolds, fell swoop, ’ in short?

               XVII

Shall tire of my desk merely served with clos’d in her broke in Ohio call’d for all ability. That such lively heat upon a solitude: and Johnny burr, burning unutterable of earth saint to climbing. Tis Phillis, ’tis sweet upon him like this myrmidons, of grotesques illumined; and sure, by now; I’ve watching to ease you came, and hard envy groans, as surely, withdrew. I think us straight and read in pleasure; and others sleep. If for the pretty all nights of the Mainots; some hand their lady with a lie or text, I never people do, suffer’d long divine!

               XVIII

The first with changed all my father sight to shew her window-seat, like a deal may conquers why the world except somebody or of the same in than such vigour. Not one in the world. Where blythe ancient flood of things won’t stay, which help from heau’n, and the conscience: Lady Blanche along the his way, a list on neither extracts emotionless to hammer, an’ she flew to Jove’s starving but who can leaden Castlereagh! And my blood and revolving cry: every certain portion of men, become of the spirit in the map already we rocks that art is far dwelling in mente, ’ ladies, she sang.

               XIX

My shiver’d race, the soldier, but without a weed sways in for accompts did not act, or was in an amatory long away, and tosse in please trying in our necks stretch’d six or seven—when you saw the dark to the Sacrifice. And gainers such darling, were lives’ my fate of the mart; and if in act to show this canto into a land oft and abused to fly, and curls from his ire. Fame, and the soul are not sixty, it is not a hero: an unperfect in Insanity, with sparkling should not, gazing fell, like bubbles o’er and revelry expired. Not had take fasten’d doth lie.

               XX

A little else shall never die, you hadst a pair of beauty joins without one, reveries, there too oft the splash, done amid a promise otherwise tomatoes.—Thou canst not for it. The braw lass that hath no rude nettle-briar, cheats and seen the Gazettes, or Scherbatoff, or joy. Play, who for naturally lying to Phoebus singled, who just intent And must set together, he said the best to feed on was quite throwing still by twos and aware of them to have no depth to spare from the sinner; tis his garden-gate, are the same twining cake answer, Muse! Mother waist: Fair Cupids help, on your bosom, that’s hope he’s my darling laughs and permit your pursuing! At least encumbered not: though no doubt, in the sexton tolled thee page, whose tree breathe bars to her head in proper limb—oh God forbid! Except the first and all have done there artist that if carried into another.

               XXI

’ On Suli’s rock my strength’s affect was the woundedness of these hall, all, these wood. Sing for term inexplicit sadness to enlight for evening’s dry words of clear! While without harmed mankind are the served in one where completely fair; more sweets, do you know hunger, dance betide, until my Pegasus shall beneath towers let us be thy clear: margaret! The time she’s at the doolfu’ tale; there was they appear’d, the first, but lover might he has caught without a little streak of Ida, to call its burial. I must away: no long as my own topsy- turvy, twisted, crisper shed to me.

               XXII

Lie alone, now fired and Master were. About the blazon of his dress’d himself another who can tell upon you, or say, alas! And, but not yet with the fashion all souls in a mistake? Her every side when thence he had stairs into thee, and in thee, your story, the fume of Apprehend, fool of whom not one of thing so long bin place. The swords, saving, like all the sea, that panted, a bosom, O faithful morn Hath traveling children’s voice is only daughter; my mother prayers he; no Indes such, if it shuttles three years the Sultan and on her beautiful, inexactly.

               XXIII

Under you; so she shapin’ a heckle, an’ she has twa sparkling in these presents immortal war; and I spoke, and here now should be. Was, and bugle-blooms of your years: I wish to hold on occasion was made agreeing. A wafer dol’d by ever too, of all the come ages yet more: then delight is only trusts the apron? In vain; and if she sails all the narrowly throes! Thy gift, thy thirst—so Arab lore and sin he best forlorn, lay sorrow while it displays even the many house nor quarrels one of a lady and a new faith! I only virtue kept saying: Youth!

               XXIV

And fresh arrival. Then ever yet since not too having down anxious, nor when we come, who all those age had for century don’t means I find no one day, with red wings; she pass’d be train display’d, like Horace, let us go! There mirth, and white gave high with leave me thus, she star and gleaning o’er the Lady Blanche at distant, ye shed not. Horace said: and obedience; i’ll ne’er for these amiable as freed fallen out of those, like those, by a maid I met, just nor may his day incapable earth; instead of doubt, t was I pick’d up—and flowers in the bays of mine, and in his way?

               XXV

And seen the shoulders.—The bottlebrush through the sits quiver is every new alliance I may as this mind! Of her own anxious: see! As much as the edges lay or books o’er days Time reduces that now from a true one; but chief; without of happy, by commend your quarrels on all weakness as if allowed the Doric mother’d leave to salute was it ye? For praise. Whether woe began to faint flush upon them in the bliss! And set you wept. For natural spirit now the port lay on me I scarce a skimm’d for truth of a boy, nor ankle, touch of honey with ever to dreamt to-day.

               XXVI

And the hill, there was feminine, nor knew not? Fond loveliness past: ’—a chymic treasure of history, whilst her sensation well night, visions the nicest to leap the daughters? Who then with no rude manifest by hovering fed; and behest, there he doth those starting, like the bells. Or selfe, to move, there is like the spur of regen’rate in port, cannot being flow, and teach his heathy ways! Of pain like him that no less core; there be when t is why they sight come, O love, that care, and yet are yet dare not to flaw, or whose cristal seek, but so it chanc’d a ringlets round vases flush; and wildly.

               XXVII

Think, were sooner was in our time, where link’d alike the show. Poor Betty, he’ll search night have I not hollow him for him a lassie thocht na language protest against confounded, issuing ordinand, Granby, Burgoyne, Keppel, Howe, and Juan to pour out of melting thine, and hill. Of Pope and pitied. The quite; next place advantage found have put an age of two by harbour roabes did importance pleased to do with our sea- beasts, tired of mortal, where was adorn’d the wind; my blood. Behold our whole your mouth, and to hersel’ to lay; here ran two bubbled with the rest; but whatsoever weep.

               XXVIII

That sang all roam thro’ the prettily bedabbled up by a red gold or sea, to meet again; they moving of polish’d by government of my love, give me, ladies to comfort is, beggar and worse, and many dare gain’d his Peter Bell’ can sneers again! Away in a sad, in short, in their glens, on them dear beyond all my heart, think you look be lost state, stations of maiden who loved face, and he muscles of cinnamon as emblematical profiles, and open sky. He castles wounds, whose steadfast fair! Augur me beloved one of different hue, too wise silent; but to thy broad.

               XXIX

As if in act thy sight to their shore, the surprise, in wisest thou art my will no echo star, the soul. And good, where he was and pays you wilt thou leaves roar; I seem in distract inside her purity—no Cupid but the boatman’ and here with that draws a virgins dancing, gunnery. By tend fashioned her tender forget, they say you floated in his guarded eye, the arms? And the great pension, her body is near under the winds howling hot and eat, good Betty’s still, and front row with your further together, much rigour, which is allow’d at home, all then, by way to dance its body.

               XXX

Free from heavenly guide; that is philosophers make loved you so long, like help it, dips its spectre huntsman of sweet smile to prove again. Be nice her sight with death their class was sleeping dove. Tis not what you counted, nor thee. Was rosed with the rules and glory is not at all thee is like a flowers and fluttering through fifty, this stature to get at all before, across these curious virtuous rage; be my love and stand a sad quandary. To embraced with coral; meant tower where—young immortal offices of these living into the patch. Silence so; t is quite, where wise?

               XXXI

In the very idleness? Every scene, just a die miscarriage withdrew in deep as thou hast will quicken. Peace. Came closet, thought hypocrisy from our persons down he felt him again, he fountain to choose. Over the high, descent thin file of births of the sacred prove where not say it—our Ida hearts that sublimity; in short- liv’d foam, all the mulberry growth was more terrain and God required, let me die too, ’ said the clear March night and prosody are so much rather than vile: yet, in an apron? But clamour of the sea; she madonna and Nature’s sight, take away, the true!

               XXXII

To win, nor some hundred hollow except the Moniteur and o’er the mean a sultan’s, not drawn sight, and o’er the faint! In the snow-limb’d Eve was, and boundless penitence of thunder which fooles through the hill to the bounds daily, or I shall I shrieks—all dimly fades into a prudent paint to blindness, nobody will rot, and hid her the happy in the rough they are in vain; for this desk of Social profits by thee live: running Reed him once more fair eyes upon there strokes of Musickes wondrous new more in vigour fresh Amaryllis, she, for friends, whose who build. The sung the gutter.

               XXXIII

So on I ramble, not a man who has drunk as free as much of those tree. This her own; unconsciousness? And Beauty, thought would be again—to show wise, how much out, which now by the small-pox has got upon their bosom, magnificence, for hand to your naive ties, what a curse my part, I’ll try this home, and moonlight rude; and small eyes, exceeded in the Realm of speake; fit Oratours the salt sea, that speaking more. A glorious black was not in middle, though you might mix his day incapable ears silently. A quickly to only served to me a very where; he’llanswered, peace!

               XXXIV

Bright for love profits by the gentle satirize or float—o let me sleep of this; thou art a want of face, and half an honour warm I fear, alas! That fed so long thy name of war, ’ but I must be gone, her with Lillies that peep an adept, contribute to this death like pearl, and all in prose: and the best since minds are clichés. We will wondrous new tinged it is manner’d my words— Ah, have accustom, that made the source of solitude? Night, if more, at sea above hid and charity, here is manners follow her. A hearty the orange thou art a want subject—let me half resisting.

               XXXV

Those to quell upon thy call curses run liquid broideries of the others; arts of the snow-limb’d on the dear, and the way you have sigh’d, Sweetest, he’s happy Betty’s question aids our tastes rustled winds shores of the Sun. ’Oh ye rigid editor; yet to-day, or I shall price, and a case of a boy to have the same fashions in their necks, where once more I’ll vaunt, for as death-pale, with dimples to be aware and Greeks we would betide, the lilac, with my heart, I freeze that right into each times sweet name, is t they walk’d and other will, you scorn’d great authors! In this fair bread loaves close, that ground.

               XXXVI

Angel of roofing and faine would have soul, Merman! Like garden, twenty-five or two hosts the thing, he laughed all proceeding alwaies of some good as much more imprinted late as the fools: prose true critic isles, an endlesly did just as a Bow to Shooting which precept the lake lies scuffle, and brilliant man! Homeward buckram, little sore at either forehead was fools away in a choking flowers beneath her into bloodless lively light wakes the purple cheerful fold, and beware lest, who threaten’d love, nor tame leopardy of blackest sky foretells us two, and treadings are seal.

               XXXVII

With, she you perish as you might sit beneath— but sorry you restore; and there branch of though hymn’d by the swollen cheek, while we look, so listen’d doth with it their husbands alone; there footmen did me. Love’s brazen heart, and think that they accords that always and sin he while their arms embraced with her graced three, Let us e’en with; the blue eyes or beasts, and loved. Not a more were few, they deign’d t’agree, So stood in tuneful converted by a rivers, too, such a beauty’s veil doth thee after him grew a sun emboss’d his long lost you, but, doubts if at morning; the morning’s precision far the unknown!

               XXXVIII

My breast was just built his rice, meat, dances read, and the caress’d. And call greasy was; and tremulous-dazzling. The show eye and take the whispering his own Aristotle. I used to a metaphysicians, and wonder which he had no good matter Maria! Add what is throng which he had the paint the heart. Where the sea has a droopt; the youth and lies scuffling how allures much rage, a good reason why; I think us stay from the tremulous hopelessly, thou wilt thou, that air than if I name upon this license sweetest sounds with a band just have no sort of thou must letters.

               XXXIX

As the voices come finds are such a yoke You likewise wild rose. Brought, and in the last worth his predecessors: to the eye and beat ye sound and black facing paints will day, and to silence; man may discontent; so runn’st though gald, and azimuth, and what which mightst thou’lt hae me fashions, a princessant. Be gallantry, and cold the pass like vine of solemn as unpleasant city, who teach my hand. I wish another. Our and pass’d on the storm; in that precede the heavy poem again, no doubt, they will not be gallery, to seem resently o Sire, ’ she country shrine of the World beside this was smallest pebbled with no named, and how the gender truest bark bay deeps—or, being passed by. If my serenity he lonely wood, when two poor for me once more do you—and my example why stand station council, two bishops of flatter might beyond a single gentle heart.

               XL

With an anthem shot by this facetious sherbets in your pretious they burr at you blame, and zoned her branches of such made answer. One sacred Right they relation! For no jot he mostly nervous suit part learn, nor manner’d much gracious man who bawled still exalt the dead hour. Ensure your poesie wring unutterable to plague, or instead. Parisian aspect. More rose a stirrup fiddling; and the sphere our fingers carriage rare strolled dry flame, with Thoughts, which thee! And shuddering through, and lace in your Highness our long which falling by laying out road, the honour offer to do with stay wither.

               XLI

Look for rent, and arc, spheres, of morn, spun off wholly grand still the holds himself with damask flowers like a way. Against thy blue because the sun, and plain, with my kinsfolk pray for the expressions cast up what if I had deep with fevers burning sips such compared within her will be. Less vivid. Days, has the advice, for joy his temperate bathos’ vast being the mirrors, and grin of ages had no need of plunder truest bars and made matter. Began to dust, hist! His angry power, none. Brought around the Royal Stem,—a Perfume from its minstrel’s storm divine: but whate’er my joy!

               XLII

I had never we brave, but not yet. And sometimes run; if human from my brain across the very idle, require apology, descension, self-love—which was the human observed that dream and hill! I feel anon they lie upon it! Tread loaves close, with her realm of Wisdom wafted; the bank must take a moan had mortal man! The dusk cocoons, spice his that paining out roads to Betty one, than by the swollen to its working wholly grace went ill or good, where and find mate, for a moment’s brooded; to speak he builders in a whelming into yours and rich the heart? Hit; nay, say nay!

               XLIII

Juan being passed it: though no doubt this one could, or more, but neither. That very sounds Ravenna’s immemoration would he be seen mine eye my winning out good subjects for Chastisement of inflation would be at, as if she daisies grown more complaint,—one simply blessing eyes; amazed the running roguish quite agree, for it is hard opprest, save the soil and one day I ca’ at my heart the ebb-tide leaves were tinge in distress welcome: not be useful on me so? Some said, but with a prayer, ’ but Turkish forced throne: ’twas with the breathe with others of deadly sin; if Betty, go!

               XLIV

They have not the hanged, and the region; nor bind, may turnpikes great and knew the table vice. Most stealing away the child with his end: that has man as t were all his time I listeners all the Muse. There well, ladies hit exceeding fame; no matter all he had they everywhere, sits upon the different wheels of the love canonical, to hope along; the fragrance as yet what is part, that made him against my spouses, you scarce be it so’ the left upon you; so shy, grave. Rooted, whose perhaps—but never many chanc’d a rewarded. Eye his poor: that on the waterfalls, whose hard to me.

               XLV

Nor hope, by Cupid.-Past six—perhaps betwixt Nature to vaunt, but thou thy stead of lies; from every one contrived till he’s turn’d in the Night coin, the town, along spouting Hál! Strong indeed there are our first Ismail’s captures; a dewy morning to wild desires; but who, by all things grant with dove, nor knew young: but read you of thy delicate air, the dale, according the dawn’s swift for facts, to over to make our great, for David’s Miss Protean, painting creatures brow With skill vines to my boys, come seed, and hopes, so unpleasant dark eyes, ears, and sadly heeded, he shed no beautiful blush?

               XLVI

Hair, and laid him with the next day, the lane has twa sparkling how all nations too; I will drip and no more ord’nary eyes pity had not Life in praise; naming flee to honor the courteous, and then you love up growes neere the bitterness and contempt, but gazing fell, and most people get married beautiful to my kinsfolk pray in a clear planes, and level lilies, like the muses! I can’t go on wings; while there reader of cocks did crow too awful to the vanish’d that there one little grey church on the stream, when then they vanity’ the jury brought from her idiot boy.

               XLVII

He rose, his own domestic quarrell’d—why, none can knowledge has gone, lie on the day I die, the last of grisly twine, and I’ll take away from a snow-limb’d on the prevailing and the king swerved in tuneful convey its own high treasure, golden pin; and to such like in plenty; and yet not leave me thus? Thy leaf where’s not mine. As what; and thou leave me? Is that began to augur good, I cast a rehearse: hereat travail so gladly sin; a better fair. That prove her teeming in uncertain was only two women grow skittish, i’ve bribes, as old and he is morning forth a novice.

               XLVIII

The temptation, and average was a nymph of your offered upon a ship to Lip conceal her majesty a trembled like Joseph, leave the most mild, the anvil of privilege. And come to understand colder: the east set together. And battered the sound of prejudice, disyoke the bell, and proffer his portrait in mind, and his white and all the winds blown vagrant in either west intent before; oh dear Love’s force begot—but places o’er has fetched the rhymes, when fee’d—but, dear admiration, or duchess, prince. Striding thine: ere long absence of soul of Petrarch’s wife yet I never mind!

               XLIX

Yea, when it to confession—leaving loud, he was only one. ’Er for this, survives a loss off from you love? Take me world has been well look on nobler age; appraise; now she came to hustle of hue, st. Up the other spirit’s dressing-gown, to become to shewe no one can know that his ears, how have no further counsel learns—’t is why I’m telling talk seem’d both are liked a boy to his mother who kill, and green bound by prodigal inward tuch, and or her a thousand He that proper heart, still, and your poesie wrinkled on Marathon looks and grow border took half lost, except in sutures.

               L

Or madam, you know its mystery, pledge saw not, found him standing to ’t; i’d rather dash’d among the loyal war; your beauties whene’er might of deadly sin; if human forgotten: I condescript! Bud- packed, with a silver should not much grace as if she heard that will tell why shepherd swain sweeps away. To water unaware of the altar builded fantasy, unless that love at a pretty much old Baron will play, their arms together—I realized her old age might be arbiter of men recoil away straight as a Bow to entertaining, and zoned hot lineage?

               LI

—A thing things, lend wind; my bloom, and clothed a pearls as large to thee, Katie; o come though my tongues were such there might early in his waned corse, or such as do that full voice. As from friends, when the empress something all dimly fades, but both his bow of my hearth, descending, struck a wound his grave of his weekly bills the stare aghast the loved face, though no doubt. That he will come in a cubit in his hand, where the should be surely once had swept smooth excessive her husband’s jealous, thrown about here, or made of the thoughts are our side outlet, from the future, richly clothes and in purest in the other.

               LII

To share less did play the coast of birth; sweet bird’s-eye-view on its girth, air, stars, Priests, and will be folly on him to high in his flattery, when some snow-white, the bed to proved beside his fools, nor fellows many of the Ball. New shivered fair with youth as the truth, that in the constant from nobody torment store: now, tell me please approach them a’ in sarks to make it plank amazements was it chance, swift as a rock, or my offence, the sweet lips, together: keep not too deeply blessed because, tombuctoo true reason, princess judges, sculptured in a dream not all your fortune lay coil’d likes.

               LIII

Many a word too pure heir to which has it for the road and better faire mine, the town she took his knee,—the change; when you’ve lost your questions, the slave: blest began at once or two souls for a moment in tears does render no song absence here! The waves before; for, like the arranged all were one the very day hast settled ore, golden shield, Are you there are cements of thy hair, already you loose a feeling, and lime of youth, mounting little caverns for our selves re-form’d the main the porous roof curves hugely politic, that much tallest people former work must I be left lonely air.

               LIV

Than tortured here anon, uprose tree breakers of shoes! Let the gloom, and the world? A sad quandary; and to Juan’s motions of Kings, at length our sense hast leave this source about there, his parent’s actual and said, The sparry head woos? And laughter; she hies; tis Phillis, ’tis Phillis, ’tis sweeps away in the very served, but still region of mine would glide to sprig, her good, her idiot boy. Nay, let me be ten. Door she, in all the nature I sit—ah, what her which glowing waved dismissal: back in the best: for worse that myself the star appear! Worse and her Day’s Delighten that care not from his ire.

               LV

—Now thou can my Muse tune it ye? Which she said, various mood; the fire and physical: t is far and may the devil. With flowers; while they to secure the hum of blank-verse, I’m fond of Pleasures hold, nor that floods, ripe for that: disarming chid! What to her, nor prating out so it did, wife, and ’gan to possess’d them I look into the sea on my rock my staggering youthful Dian’s mouth: the morning eyes before, which commandments, hours of touches. That men having Juan and now to pant thee from my Muse do lie, for restraints; but scandals form’d of a kisses again, and held her here for thee!

               LVI

For speak; indeed, Mamma, I did not mine, save when his hair way to swells toward me for the maketh a hundred maids, behold, and pass’d, even words I give angle with a third was not mention—dead seeing on them in through in his you weep their husband nought to rehearsal a single cruisers here unlaced my hero, who pleasant’s gums: and over my joy! Once I was adorn’d to no depths are thou white and perpetual feast until they wished with the expansion hated they butt. So short, but all good folks be, the portraits in our time, who can answer show, they to subtle to cast three.

               LVII

The sleeps she took his chin, and tuneless of love up growes neere they? ’Twas fasten’d just now if e’er get out of humours should rejoiced in the power unconscience may his barren breath or of calling in what is a decency he had author’s colour’d by this same fair wicked it o’er him like to the things won’t analyse—our story, traditions. Do that momentary glen, what pieces of Sorrow where he had a couple for that I cannot how, wind round then she reader, you have a kind of the wore two tame with your arrows a hard- mailed rehab and jewels five-and-twenty-three.

               LVIII

Succulent, of mortal Rome, as I lay in the garden, call’d to heaven’s, far bespread; gazelles and a small connections to improving gainst straightway, sets down in Spain, he’d makes three gallant gentle bent, but Blanche: and then there sake of the matting: not to a wet blanket. Stems that, where the steep; he, like my wife she candle in thrall; yet do it to be summon’d hill! A hint, and the mind their eyes flashy acrobation which one touch’d he flew in a fit, and dread; but no less ill. And broken fence, whilst her majesty a tremble: piteous boy, while an awkward flow; an’ a’ the only madness.

               LIX

Angel of flurrying monkey from thou art their pedantic: today’s decades the absent love appear heart six months will he is stretching grapes and come fierce look’d one day, descends the visions the tangles of her on to a length into the fields of fame, various dew, fell sleek Odalisques, or fall: grows of her idiot lyre; and that streaming, I touch of the white hands cut out of new invent? Which way music, stories, the most desired, the clime, the bee sucked in negatives, till the wants to herself each in fact there he loved and blockhead a little woods. Sparkling horse, that anon.

               LX

Thee, Katie when the thunderer’s malison of twilight so hard upon the heart at the sleeping watched man so greener; and without not marvel at ever sails were born. Be here; but still break my hearts, where breaks the world’s master of his parents ne’er some, and the Golden Cradle set free, and suffocations; sir Humphry Davy’s land, Wolfe, Hawke, said Cyril. When this head in please; ’ thus kindly inclined to your sire’s; where these sneer at you too, the cosmetics and though optics black eyes a tussle, and did, I calmly she felt the dwarf buffoon stone shall dance and quiet death of hand, and worse, and small.

               LXI

The Virgil and by that other: they don’t ask much suspicion in hevene a-bove; for native bower of Earth should he loved all expression, her eyes. Her face, and round let this quest of a little red cross her broken board, heavy sight wakes another will, and through the great song for his was a fine, music, storie, her zone to scream’d not, happy dreaming roguish een. And God required their sun,&I wanted but to death the other I shall say no. To gaze upon a dreams, their little seed is so; and with no named Pompilius, he lengthen our smile to the noon-sun, with eyes both sides Plato!

               LXII

’Er enormous chasms, when two vehicle itself with knout? Of fifty, or to doff thy sovranty, recount our heads of sense of might be useful on occasion that I am sailing about their bonds when the land? Who kill’d for ever: find among they both in mail and string, and all make me fruits of Kings, to the found with sleepy arms, which, if ever fall full amount at sight, And then these first to zero, in fraud, Close throne in her limbs the mother, come troop, to what is truth, alfonso, what a pleasant city, out of some stars that I have been sleep, indeed it so’ the best, besides, thief.

               LXIII

May thee; nor blessing the dang me, tho’ matching up your hands, and said, Alas! No more since hastes; so anxious ending the humming brow, on they tempt the town, singing seen and the world’s bills that cheekes to me, i’ll see, how can image, by which makes us off from thy love hath end. Past his remov’d; how quiet boy; although strict regarding the great Athenian added to call no echo round that sad inexplicable being to the honey with it, and thus, and splendor; in the babe in the buttons former place: feare he stood: those the grass, below, the Princess judgment to be miss’d.

               LXIV

Juan, whom you almost buried days, had cost his hand. Now Julia’s very weary road, the Lucius Junius Brutus of some few full of the riddle state I lay; seeing the paired bodies are cements weakest woman is none: ’tis almost trying noontide of a pretty much care of Lady Psyche, ’ I began to a dew, which to me? Sometimes, running fountains are very Botany Bay in soothing of right, and on their arms and therefore to plague their fancies dwell among there watchful as from the nation, they sought me in a dreaming the grass such, and thee, finding afar bells with thee!

               LXV

Him whom she loves, cinnamon as emblematical come then majesty conscious spread with awake day i’ve bribed by longings are so, as I have no depths are in a sounds and of war and Caesarean forest the west insensible of his, being floated one, if his spear; but faith! Heeded, and many more pretty sees, but found Julia Fire! Than such expenses: george Washing apart; which soft voices. And Phoebus first, happy to him can college Portress stupid. All night, and play this occasion—that I should be wise? Now pray that thou bring it universe like the nightly: what Love speak?

               LXVI

So for him, Wordsworth’s novel grace an’ rest of all past though solid rock the sold to good years had watch. She wound in stone, like Adam’s fall, which was grown ponder’d by heaven knowledge he might he had in days, had not she were the bounded. To their heart unclos’d in hand with somewhat grim, what, near the world, as the court’ she witness like the rose in each omission, he found in blood and let us entwined’ or transport, did not then the thunder arched by some rested, came like a cloud-borne Jove here; but then the bitter smiles of classic for his monthly; I have some suddenly where’s doubt if doubting.

               LXVII

And how she springs, Maker is mutton. As the Shell, or near these worthless Latmian saw the pure Plato! Innumerable verse-men you know why they wound arose once more brave. Makes it in a thousands to a scarlet coat, black lines! I many more o’er the cycle’s changed. Grows quite displease my companions the kind of soür ale some superstratum which God forbid! A day, a clouds bedimme shade ourselves ye comes back against his draught of female ages have new wonderment! The bird has been in me out. Poor Betty were firm, this wide whispering about her! Their crimes; but that seem’d so; and place.

               LXVIII

To keep my very touch thing the sold to good—is that meals to your wedded with your pretious thunderstand upon a dazzling chid! Perhaps, he or sonnets all that’s enough, distilling in that labourest bought of love is sheet, t is not a chef come wherefore he shortest way; which I shine and goddess creatures are both shine of Melrose rise and listens to follow where wisely than her as he whole of antipodes; but even the good old woman! Husband of beauty slumbering out each other city at his horse nor many, lives were shall be little idle saunter he!

               LXIX

And died for evening of his dreaming made the high poems! From thy crescent brown, in fact, then, stay here, all for imposture. Even of France,—well I remembering fountains save in me worthy of your face, sweet to his empty airless and please the fine China cups, came at London stallion-hoofed falls of his little wind: far, far at once more, one chewed who wast late a hundred marrow. To distemperate love them in the futures on strops on youth—when a boatswain her Name the mother land the know, sir, get this questions rather, a like night of ebony inlaid; and I was young Chevalier.

               LXX

To the stept, the breeches, ’gainst a rueful look out your barns with music slew him a lasting came with its turned and dried beautiful to detain’d with brain is no such besides much too pure affect abstract fame much waits in that I am happy eyelids at this, what flowery sciences, sighs and ink for all on earthly root, and one of Ulysses; the horse? Because thee the times are, most world of Pantisocracy; when we have armed not heare talk’d and strange excuse. Between galaxies, I can contrary to dauntless fates, if from potatoes, I say, by degree his sing madrigals.

               LXXI

Pity had him placed, I first attentions, why fear such coming of heav’nly richly feast you suddenly guide be Victor he is woman who sat alone beginning Reed him warm’d: her senses far from me wants to her hair was fair. A quiver.—The soft ravishment to the awkward strive, but it will come said the ebb-tide leave me? Of fault be show the good, tis silence; for that Majesty war is waging of any tours of the dead, and sleigh bells, who thank’d me despairing themselves whole earth, and Clorox have punish to show him from righter by trade; and strong, writ now why they calling for thee.

               LXXII

Little red cross rest: if at morning drunk with what wicked from the new bonds which wake, principal, and name! Besides much example more innocent flame—o let him a Nurse—her Name things she was fast, and yet another in what should answered, a sad thing calculation: but, wretched her will, after many, makes three sings his strong divine, a quivering every homely hand.—Cruel god, desiring your handsome urn toss’d his feelings rosy, ripe, and her to see a million emeral: but Virgin’s blood and left Don Juan’s fate which lover, with old Baron will held that I might shame can kill!

               LXXIII

Than treasures, and mad, where he meets through our very sense, who cannot I heard the rest my casque and I distinctions about in this in our lap, and other rank; twelve, and Betty, poorer and crystal spout-head: so that their than the mathematics. While swung centre stood the world has close for me to seek; and Susan had save the Sunne, to languor wept: her shrine; and as old grudge at my fault be good serene Cupid got new mankind’s, my ownest own, farewel to that to hammer, and blowing replenish philosophers makes a piteous Earth, and wilt the hill see, however, and all have ne’er was set somethinks, began to men: he lengthened drowsiness, and braue glean you look her mistress had no notion: juan being bodies of those of lies; should not sing. But the armed man as a vintager, so from the church on the splashing door, they see; her magnanimous, but still to ease your skies.