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yutzen · 10 hours

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A Quick Biological Primer on Subterraneum Citizens

(From the archives again, this time more a lorefile than a story. But I would prefer to rescue this one quickly for the sake of clarity in the future. I will be linking back here often.)

So, if you've been following me for any length of time, been keeping up with certain writing prompt accounts, or generally just stumbled onto the things I've been writing that have the Subterraneum_(Yutzen), you may have a variety of questions. Mostly ones like "the fuck's an Ifchi".

In the interest of giving folks and also myself a reference for the more appearance-based or species-related questions, and keeping track of general biology and capacities, here's a quick (by my standards) primer on each of the Subterraneum's major sentient species. Arranged in no particular order, with names (formal and very informal), basic measures and some elaboration on their looks, anatomy and more esoteric capacities, if any are involved. I will get to elaboration on their nations' actual setups on some other primer in the future, hopefully.

Included is also a quick, but probably necessary introduction on the "magic system" (for lack of better terms) in the Subterraneum, intentionally vague as it may be. The stuff goes deep enough to be biologically important after all.

Anyhow, here goes, hope it helps! And I apologize if any numbers seem ridiculous, which they'll probably be. Feel free to correct me but also physics are a little weird down there.

A NOTE ON AFFINITIES AND AMBIENT ENERGIES: It’s not just creatures that enter the Subterraneum through its various Exits. Ambient energies, background fields and other phenomena have been leaking through the rock for centuries on end, and the ever-present Radiance has blended them together over time into an uneven backdrop of strange, unrelated and even contradictory essences. The residents of the caverns have been affected by these background fields, and have changed to attune to and manipulate them in turn, with varying amounts of success.

The so-called “elemental” energies tend to manifest strongly and directly, by infused terrains and by the various species alike; whether this is part of how the elements work or an interaction (if not direct “preference”) from the Radiance it’s mixed with is unknown. Nevertheless, each of the usual species can often manifest such energies in their own unique ways, and individuals often show shockingly different affinities, even within the same species. Affinities with the Radiance itself vary similarly, though not one species can be said to be untouched by it.

It bears mentioning that the Radiance often interferes with other energies even in the midst of manipulation, adding a dose of unpredictability to the results. Those that can harness this, and tap into the Radiance’s unique metaphysical properties, can reach what is known as one of the ill-understood Sparks: Manipulation of a given element or property that actively, though selectively, breaches specific rules that usually govern it, reaching into metaphysical and sometimes even semantic territory.

Ifchi/Olms

(Singular and Plural are both Ifchi) Average height: ~1.65 m, with length (including tail) closer to 2.2 m Average weight: ~75 Kg (including tail) Description: In truth they’re hardly olms, as most of their traits are closer to axolotls, down to the color variations; it varies on a spectrum, as stories tell of them being two species once that merged together post-arrival with Radiance-granted ease, leaving axolotl traits as dominant - though olm traits have been known to assert themselves in old age. Bipedal, slimy and damp at all times when healthy. They have four-fingered, nail-less hands with little strength, wiry limbs made more for quick movements than strength, and large, paddle-like tails that drag across the ground and let them swim faster than they can run. They have the expected branching frills, growing with age until they sag and droop during older ages; in especially ancient individuals they can even touch the floor. These frills can be a whole spectrum of colors themselves, too, solid but highly variable. The color tends to indicate affinity to ambient fields and energie, for these frills can sense, connect to and work as a focus when manipulating the ambient energies in a given area, Radiant or otherwise. As a result, “spellcasters” are widespread among the species, and their their manipulation of ambient fields oft takes highly recognizable, obvious forms, usually one-off high energy movements that do plenty, but don’t last long.

Ferigozi/Shard Moles

(Singular and plural are both Ferigozi) Average Height: ~1.4 m Average Weight: ~70 Kg, mostly (but not entirely) muscle Description: Stout and bulky creatures on short hindlegs, with powerful forearms and hands bearing oversized claws that can crack solid stone. They have beady eyes and elongated, sensitive snouts that in some strains have extra-sensitive “whiskers” like star-nosed moles do, while others have more proper whiskers running along their snouts. Their eye-sight is lacking even by Subterraneum standards, but they have excellent senses for vibrations in the area, even minor shifts in the breeze. Early in their lifetimes they are almost entirely mole-like, with short, dense and very smooth fur in shades of brown and black; as they age, however, they start developing interlocking chitinous plates like pangolins do, reaching full tesselating coverage around middle-age. Their underbellies always remain furred, however, sometimes necessitating protection. Affinities with ambient energies are limited, and concentrated almost entirely in hands and claws, moving limited amounts of energy with very high precision. Given time and skill, however, Ferigozi can learn to infuse any and all materials with higher concentrations of a chosen ambient energy, with great control over the way they manifest into the material in question; such concentrations can take decades to dilute with a reasonably skilled practitioner.

Bannerbound/Hobgremlins

(Bannerbound works for both singular and plural) Average height: ~1.7 m, though Bannerbound fluctuations are an exercise on why averages are more useless than you'd think Average weight: ~70 Kg, with the same warning as above Description: It’s theorized they started as an abundance of species rather than just one, and that the Subterraneum’s effects merged them into one; with the sheer variance in their forms, this is both likely and near-impossible to actually prove. They are the single most Radiance-susceptible species in the Subterraneum, displaying the changes of excess exposure even during early stages in their lives and going from there even when hardly exposed further. The basic and initial framework would be called humanoid, if the Subterraneum knew humans, ones with glowing eyes all over the spectrum and whose “skin” tends towards single, solid hues; beyond that everything from skin colors and hair to internal anatomy can vary depending on the individual and their affinities. Even things as basic as number and nature of limbs can vary in especially attuned Bannerbound. Their cultural imperative to hide their bodies under multiple layers of garments and secretiveness about their bodies does not help either. This extends into their interaction with ambient energies as well: They are attuned enough to the Radiance that they can infuse specific actions and even creations with the capacity to stretch, and even breach, specific principles and laws. They also have easier access to the Sparks than most other species in the Subterraneum, though their affinities with non-Radiance energies tend to be lower than usual.

Korves/Deep-Crows

(Singular Korve) Average height: ~2.2 m Average wingspan: ~4.7 m Average weight: ~55 Kg Description: Unquestionable corvids, barely straightened from a theropod stance. Tall, black-feathered and with tough beaks (and necks) that can crack flarewood with a peck. Their eyes are solid in color, often red or yellow, but highly variable in number; anywhere from one to six have been observed, often arranged asymmetrically. By themselves, Korves lack fingers on their wings, with the closest being the dexterous talons they stand on; unusually for the Subterraneum, such growths never came to pass, leaving the limbs only useful for flight and stunning blows. In theory, and in times past, they’ve made do with their legs for tasks requiring fine motor skills, but the species-wide symbiosis with otherwise infectious fungal species in the Valley have given them options: Korves are especially compatible with mycotic infiltration and growths, resisting most harmful effects and taking particular control of the species’ unique structures to the point of commanding its growth and movement. Often inoculated as hatchlings, even the most average Korve can grow finger-like protrusions at the end of their wings that can manipulate objects with a slow, but certain and powerful grip. Other such manipulations have been observed, from carved and immobile growths to whipping tendrils and all in-between, and in rare cases even modification of the symbiote with ambient energies. All this is available to a skilled and willful Korve – so long as their ravenous combined appetite remains sated at all times.

Chelies/Swallows

(Singular Cheli) Average height: ~1.2 m Average wingspan: ~2.5 m Average weight: ~30 Kg Description: While clearly avians, Chelies are more anthropomorphic (and smaller in all aspects) than the Korves, standing more directly upright. Their wings are thin and thickly-feathered, with flat, claw-like growths on the inside of the wingtip that can grasp like hands would and still fold back into the wing to keep its shape aerodynamic. In addition, they have a similarly bony, though much thicker spur closer to the base of each wing, naturally sharp and often given further edge by the Chelies themselves. Between that, their raptor-like talons and beaks that have lengthened and sharpened with generations, their resemblance to actual swallows nowadays is dubious – though they still retain their red and blue plumage, even thicker and more intensely colorful than ever before. Their need for flight has given them strong, though wiry musculature that grants them speed and agility alike, showing less maneuverability but greater speed than Vezarym in the air. Unlike the Vez – and most Subterraneum species at that – Chelies have excellent eyesight, both close up and at a distance, able to pick out details and movement even in the most spore-choked of caverns. When it comes to ambient energies, they seem entirely unable to affect inorganic materials, or themselves for that matter: Every effect they can induce through their claws and spurs is a “slow burn” applied to other living beings. This is most often applied in their well-known fungal gardens, manipulating otherwise mundane species into something else entirely.

Troxi/Quillskinks

(Singular and plural are both Troxi) Average height: 1.3 m, with length including tail closer to 2.1 m Average weight: ~45 kg (including tail) Description: Skinks is not necessarily the right term, they have too many hints of theropod (and maybe even kobold) in them to truly call them such, but they are reptiles nonetheless. Troxi always have long, whip-like tails that can be shed and regrown, almost always longer than the rest of their bodies, their eyes have invariably slit pupils, and their scales are always in patterns of three different colors. As a norm, their bodies and limbs are toned and slender, with small, yet rough scales. However, this is but a guideline: Variations and mutations – scarce at first, yet reliably transmissible unlike Bannerbound alterations – have made themselves present startlingly quickly, putting the species in biological flux since the establishment of the Republics proper. It’s speculated this is the same process of accelerated “evolution” that affected all previous dwellers, though all projections hint that it’s happening far faster than expected, for unknown and oft-speculated reasons. Whatever the truth may be, Troxi can be seen with different scale patterns and types, spikes along their sides, variable tongues, among many other possibilities. The newest generations even exhibit one uniform change in comparison to their forebears: The emergence of a pattern of colorful feathers along the ridge of their backs, never equal between Troxi yet always present. It’s this newest alteration to the species that’s given them their informal (and sometimes unwanted) nickname.

Shumhaq/Sandhusks

(Singular and plural remain the same) Average height: ~0.9 m (length including tail is closer to 2.1 m) Average weight: ~85 kg Description: Semi-upright arthropods like the rest of their “family”, Shumhaq are closer to arachnids than insects, and closer to scorpions than spiders in that regard; they are the tallest of the Hive members, with the hardest exoskeletons as well. Their framework varies relatively little compared to other Subterraneum species: Six strong, chitinous legs their bulbous, armored abdomens stand on, a scorpion tail that stretches back complete with a sharp stinger, and an upright, armored half with an eighteen-eyed head with grinding chelicerae. Their grasping limbs are “concentric” pincers, with a large, crushing pair surrounding a smaller, more dexterous set of pincers that fit neatly within sockets at the base. Their stingers secrete toxins, with variable but powerful effects that can be affected by the infusion of ambient energies – the only manipulation of such Shumhaq appear capable of – which change how they affect biology and even inanimate materials. Much like other Hive members, they have different castes, but they vary very little in comparison, simply altering their anatomical proportions; mostly, their stingers and their claws tend to be inversely correlated in size. Shumhaq as a whole are, in fact, particularly hardened against any altering and mutating effects, whether Radiance-related or not – it is suspected their genetic sequences and general anatomy have “hardened” in response to such exposure to the point of “burning out” any capacity for further change.

Syhaq/Candlebees

(Singular and plural remain the same) Average height: ~0.7 m (length is closer to 1.8 m) Average wingspan: ~2 m Average weight: ~60 Kg, though often heavier thanks to wax production Description: Semi-upright arthropods like the rest of their “family”, Syhaq are undoubtedly bee-like in look and physiognomy; they are the shortest of the Hive members, and often the portliest. They all have iridescent wings, fuzzy, stout abdomens striped in black and white, four furred legs to bear their weight, and four-fingered hands at the end of two chitinous limbs, as well as oversized compound eyes with unusual white bioluminiscence. Their antennae are often thick and a foot long at minimum, and the main source of the beeswax Syhaq are known for: They’re used to both secrete the substance in significant amounts, sculpt it as it goes, and even infuse it with varied elemental energies that create different “recipes” with very different properties. This is far from the only place this wax comes from, however; their entire bodies are almost always covered in the stuff, clumping together if not groomed, and in certain overproductive castes they often form stiff “tendrils” (much like planthopper nymphs) that the Syhaq can sculpt to their leisure for different purposes. Another anatomical matter that depends on the caste is the presence of a stinger; not all of them have one, and in those that do its effects can vary from a simple, empty stabbing weapon to an injector of powerful paralytic toxins.

Zivhaq/Flayer Bugs

(Singular and plural remain the same) Average height: ~1 m (length is closer to 2.7 m) Average weight: ~45 Kg Description: Semi-upright arthropods like the rest of their “family”, Zivhaq are the longest, slimmest and most anatomically complicated of the Hive members, most resembling a blend of centipede and praying mantis. Their elongated, wingless abdomens stand upon dozens of long, sharp legs that stop abruptly once the thorax begins – from there, four more limbs sprout, two of which end in four-fingered hands while the uppermost pair ends in sharp, scythe-like extremities that can be tucked almost completely into their bodies. Their faces have flat compound eyes, elongated, flexible chelicerae and long antennae that split apart into multiple shifting protrusions. The entirety of their frame is highly flexible, and Zivhaq have a highly developed kinesthetic sense that gives them excellent control of it. They can squirm through gaps mere inches in diameter, curl themselves up tightly and stretch their own limbs to almost twice their size. This combination is the result of unique adaptations for the sake of disguising themselves as other species: Zivhaq gain their nickname by the capacity to use discarded exoskeletons, pelts and actual skin of other creatures to impersonate them, by crawling and puppeteering such exteriors with their abundant extremities and highly flexible vocal apparatus. Such capacities have naturally pushed them to the fringes from the expected paranoia, making their societies highly secretive. This has made the deeper details of their anatomy, including any ambient energy manipulation, very difficult to publicly discern.

Nirhaq/Longbrook’s Moths

(Singular and plural remain the same) Average height: ~0.8 m (length is closer to 1.8) Average wingspan: ~3.5 m Average weight: ~25 Kg Description: Semi-upright arthropods like the rest of their “family”, Nirhaq are entirely lepidopteran, closest to moths but still bearing elements of butterflies when it comes to their wings; their anatomies are the most enigmatic of the Hive members, with little study in comparison to the others. Standing upon four fluffy legs, with elongated and thickly-furred abdomens, and six-fingered hands at the end of two fuzzy limbs at their thorax, they tend towards darker colors in both fur and chitin. They have large, compound eyes that shine in the dark with elaborate patterns, curled antennae that twitch and twist, and dexterous proboscii with tiny chelicerae at the end that can slowly snip off solid food. The most intriguing part of their anatomies is their wings: Moth-like or butterfly-like, with the occasional merge of transparencies and opacities between them, they always bear elaborate patterns that shift at the Nirhaq’s will, and have a variety of instinctual displays seemingly kept in their “genetic” memory, which can be expanded further through learning. It is here that their intrigue lies: These Hive members have instinctive access to a variety of supernatural symbology and “languages” that bypass mental filters on perception and directly “tell” the brain to perceive certain things, imposing audiovisual illusions over their forms that are partially at the Nirhaq’s control. This makes them the most secretive of the Hive members, often passing themselves as citizens of other species throughout their lives.

Vezarym/Thrumhorn Bats

(Vezarym works for both singular and plural) Average height: ~2.4 m Average wingspan: ~5.5 m Average weight: ~45 Kg Description: Tall, slender chiropterans with enormous wingspan and powerful footclaws, graceful in flight and upside-down yet always hunched by the weight of their wings when standing upright. They have arms beneath their wings, an additional pair of limbs with vestigial membranes of their own to aid in steering, and actual (if delicate) hands. Their snouts are closer to fruit bats, though unusual protrusions from their noses are very common, and their needled fangs work on meat and mushroom alike. Their eyesight is decent, but very short, aided by their bioluminescent eyes (usually but not always yellow) when it comes to perceiving what’s right in front of them, but falling off mere meters away. Vezarym have appropriately huge ears with “concentric” growths within that seemingly aid in focusing sound, aiding their pin-point echolocation alongside their powerful lungs and bony throat ridges that serve as both amplifiers and protection. Sitting between their ears are short horns shaped like a lyre, that thrum with sound both emitted and received – this is believed to aid in both echolocation and regular listening, but it’s theorized they are also fundamental in ambient energy perception and manipulation. Said manipulation is always subtle, never forceful, seemingly resonating and either amplifying or dampening a given element (or several) in the area, with stronger effects when working together: Multiple harmonizing Vezarym can completely shift a place’s elemental alignment for however long their ‘song’ lasts.

Toskars/Shard Badgers

(singular Toskar) Average height: ~1.9 m Average weight: ~120 Kg Description: Heavyset creatures, taller than the Ferigozi while keeping similar (initial) musculature. Their tough and unruly fur is always vertically striped, often black and white, though there are some who can have very light cyan and/or deep, dark blue instead. They have somewhat oversized hands and feet on relatively short, though muscular limbs, with tough (though blunt) claws upon all digits. Toskars are not wholly badgers, and even in their early lives they show some seal-like traits like webbing between their fingers and a layer of insulating fat under their hides. With age, their fur grows thicker and tougher still – with time, the fur on their backs starts to harden into chitinous, sharpened quills that bristle when the Toskar feels tense or threatened. More pinniped traits start manifesting more intensely as well, with males and females alike growing further, bulking up and often growing thick, quilly mustaches; some select castes even develop small tusks where their fangs once were as they reach middle age. Their affinities with ambient energies rarely manifest more than a few inches outside of their bodies, with no clear focus organ or limb. Much like the Ferigozi, they can learn to infuse material with such energies, but such infusions rarely last beyond a few hours. However, they find the manipulation and infusion of energies within their own organic material much easier, letting skilled practitioners empower their bodies in unpredictable ways.

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thessaliaxiv · 2 years

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Holidailies 2022, Day 9: Memories of Winter Travel

I try to keep my entries to just one topic, or one story, for length's sake. I do have some various memories regarding traveling in winter that I thought might work as a singular post, so here we go.

Traveling to Grandmas' Houses My parents insisted on end-of-year travel, to placate grandparents and other relatives, to have an excuse to take time off of work, and to give my sibling and me exposure to different surroundings than being isolated in our dinky little town all the time. That tiny village was easily 250 miles away from the nearest relatives, travel time taking about four hours to complete. From a young age, my sibling and I learned patience, amusing ourselves with travel-friendly play, or naps. Mostly naps. We'd rouse during the half hour ferry ride and burn off some energy running around the people mover while our parents stretched legs and enjoyed the short stint of sitting still for a time. We made these treks about once a month, so the long hours of being enclosed in a vehicle were not new to us. Sometimes it got boring, but that's what we got for living in such a remote place.

Winter travel usually followed one of two trends–driving in really heavy rain, or driving in snow. Temperatures varied but were usually chilly at best, to which we'd lay a coat over our legs, long sleeved shirts, and blast the cabin heater, to which the side windows would always fog up, obscuring the world outside and leaving us to amuse ourselves as best as we could in the confines of the back bench of whatever car we rode in. Like I said, naps usually prevailed.

We generally spent the majority of the holiday outing with either my aunt, who had a house large enough to accomodate the four of us, or maternal grandma's house, where we'd sometimes double up with our younger aunt and uncle, or in the living room depending on preferences. Always on the floor in a sleeping bag. Not the most comfortable but that's what we had and if it was a hard surface, at least it was warm.

We usually had two gift-giving sessions, one with the maternal grandparents and others from that branch of the family tree, and a smaller one with paternal grandparents. The paternal grandparents were a little less well-to-do and we'd generally get cards, socks, and way off-brand dolls of some sort. I was much more interested in the grandparents anyway, so that was fine with me.

Every winter season, from the time I was an infant, to the time I moved out of state as an adult, I could count on these week-long outings, always in the same locations with the same people, often with the same decorations. Really only the weather changed. And sometimes the vehicle.

The Great Flu

My maternal aunt had warned my mom, prior to one particular end-of-year celebration when I was in my teens, that her family was experiencing a slight flu, and that it might be prudent to stay away for an extra week to ensure we didn't catch it. Because of all the planning it took to make our travel plans in the first place, particularly mom since she needed two months to schedule time off at her place of employment due to the scarcity of coverage from coworkers, mom insisted we make the visit anyway. My sibling and I weren't told about the possibility of illness until we were nearly there. Wonderful.

My aunt had understated the severity of the flu she and the cousins were experiencing. She looked gaunt with deep circles under her eyes. One of her children were at a friend's house, not wanting to risk it, over aunt's objections. Two cousins were home and in their rooms for the majority of our visit. We should have left then, and even mom later admitted that she'd had the thought of not unpacking and turning tail back home as soon as she saw how bad it really was. But mom being mom, she stubbornly insisted we stay. Great.

We were visited by mom's and aunt's sister and their brother that first evening, we exchanged gifts and enjoyed a meal together. Visiting aunt stayed overnight, brother leaving for home again, and we settled in to sleep. I felt fine.

Four o'clock the following morning, I did not feel fine. I padded to the nearest downstairs bathroom and endured a short wave of nausea, before last night's meal reappeared. I cleaned up and tried to sleep, getting up twice more to discretely take care of more unpleasantness. It quickly, erm, passed, no longer involving my stomach but the latter part of my digestive system. I didn't know I had that much in me, but hooboy it was quite the experience. On one of my last violent bouts, visiting aunt knocked insistently on the door needing in. I told her she'd need to go to one of the other four bathrooms available in this house because I was going to be a moment longer. She knocked more, I finished up as forcefully and quickly as I could, and waddled out as she barged in, lol.

Everyone in the house spent a large portion of that day in a daze on the various couches in the living area. We weakly celebrated holiday things but we were not in a festive mood. Later that day, my parents made the decision to get home to recover. My sibling, who hadn't been hit as quickly as we had, started her journey, and my dad, the emitophobe, was triggered and had to pull off the side of the road and lean out of the car to join the noise. I think we stopped at every available bathroom between aunt's house and home, but we made it, five hours later. We all took much-needed showers and crawled into our respective beds for four days more.

Visiting aunt declared she would never visit if aunt offhandedly mentioned dealing with illness again. We emphatically agreed. That was highly unpleasant, and avoidable.

The Falling Tree

Somewhere before the age of 9, there was an occasion during which we traveled, that an abnormally large amount of snow appeared seemingly overnight. A full foot of snow dropped the day before we were set to travel back home, the car already loaded for the long ride home with gifts and toys and the usual other detritis of travel. It was fun for sibling and I to play in, while the adults fussed about how difficult the ride home might be. We didn't worry, both my parents were cautious drivers and we were sure there wouldn't be an issue.

We rode home as the sun was setting, as abnormally early as it does this time of year, and by the time we were on our last hundred miles home, it was full dark and snowing like mad. By this time there were now two feet of the white stuff on the ground, the view out the windshield looking only like a starfield with a view of black, the headlights illuminating only the snowflakes falling directly in front of the car.

During this next part of my recount of events, we were traveling around the southern edge of the lake that was so picturesque most of the time, the hillside to our immediate left stretching straight up to the peaks of the very tall hills lining this east-to-west valley. I happened to be staring out the back driver's side window, boredly looking out at the void, when I saw a flash of white in my window, the front driver's side window, and the windshield, a blur. I didn't have time to react and ask what that was when I felt the car suddenly jerk to a halt, my dad slamming on brakes and exclaiming all at once. I was suddenly very alert and interested in what was going on, my mom and sibling also freshly awake and wondering what had just occurred.

My dad informed us grimly, "A tree just fell in front of us." All we could see was a gnarled branch resting on the hood of our car, the substantial trunk nearly nose-to-nose with the front bumper. Had we not stopped at that exact moment, we would probably have been passengers in a completely crushed vehicle. The trunk was about two feet in diameter, measured as if you bored a hole straight through the center of the tree. That's north of six feet in circumference, folks, measured around the outside of the trunk with a soft tape measure. That is no insubstantial tree. That tree was easily 150 years old.

As luck would have it, my dad had a chainsaw in the back of the car, a this-would-never-happen just-in-case item he'd had the foresight to bring with us. He spent the next couple of hours sawing it up, more and more traffic appearing on both sides. A second career logger arrived with their chainsaw as well and a number of men helped lug the heavy logs to the side of the road. This is long before the years of cellphones, and so it would have taken a long time to wait for a road crew to arrive to do the thing. I'm very certain we were not the only holiday travelers either trying to get back home or get to destinations in one piece. Dad drove with white knuckles the rest of the way home. But we made it home. The roads had been plowed near the house, but our house's driveway was buried beneath 2.5' of snow by the time we finally made it home.

Dad laughingly drove the car fast as far as he could to get us as close to the house as possible, gave up with the back bumper at least out of the common roadway, and we trudged into the house with all our luggage to unpack and all that.

#holidailies #daily writing challenge

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libidomechanica · 2 years

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Untitled Poem # 17355

A curtal sonnet sequence

Father course of your soothsayers have knows nought came on Sunium’s marry with him in; oft blind in such out loves man. The lucid round him a good Hobbin, I did lamentation which girds asia, since, spite, take a middle watches his face the come! Coat; how shew they could not so like summer days? But which would go: perhaps as we description, or thee, Give merry din—for Venus see. The bride, so much more in the rack, or stopp’d, and gums.

Of the time with thy lyre, so fierce! Here Lolah on both my scalp and keep the thews of your forehead—and the jaws of vision; I mighty king to find a flowers, where memory stranger and old gentleman, are tedious thousand know the spoke a word, and above. Tis being their bad taste, and chase, and thus sprung! It is gone, and the leap’d amid a cruel fellow really ill the night; in love are gone, but charms. Would be caught, her eye.

A solitude, to view want nothing sea! Or at length from the bright, ye daughters. The soil’d the senseless sorrow early lawn, for no one dead—too much to run, and on everyone else. And next day, almost so when he is now at earth of May? And I am become of a gentle rainy—tears, she as on thy Heart was Miltiades! It died too! ’ Th’ flowers fethereal band are but a wound I shall sway, to stretch an onion.

” And the dust and wished day not the blanket. When the tides more his secrets of the heave to clime; marriage night peona kissogram. We left alone. The rest, and when the flood thing mood, for change to feel how far the porch with tidings of human hath misconceived between thine and flood below his faith, but evening: silence, ev’n to mend your vows, and in truth, take what bare and pleasant art could see no object high Jove’s sink to be acted.

To catch virgins’ kisses; not alone for me. Began to moue; not all the creep, as, until he could like that light. In speechless came, and place. Do we in bitter crumenall. But babble down shall fall at last till the effect our was born! A Perfumes are a nation,—a terrier, touch we two young man his is overhead, and all the clasp’d each office, Muse; I teach a friendly from clime the valleys heard heir sakes—that ideal Grace.

For the charge of Lolah demands on me. An old Roman place for past: on my grief, postes adorn: no, by Heavens, all the college yet, talking, artful, deep, laughing did shin’st, as the cote, and we’ll send outward tell me where Deva spread in the wish you can holding two? To have laid: a blew from deference upon his rack’d with woe. Fair damsel, pity love: instead of the world so fair. For Wisdom less, thou wilt, for his to takers.

Proclaiming sleep: or what tower: so find the Pen of any state, in those eyes are exhausted, wae is me! Soul is parity above all its amazement, but on her to the grave, and ne’er expressive heart who like. Shall grace and half sight without not a shade of the hearts to indication had not better leaves, whereat the dog, and praise but must somewhere shall ripeness it shall speak, nor such my hound his other eyes inspir’d?

Who remains, our berried lady, did princely Heart; her hair, they all dreriments taught ease, that all alike mischiefe dead. A higher suffering; she sun-brown’d the same; whether life arose, and that other lords to name, also thy breast—but pause. I don’t making like slept along to sound by winds, had not thy infant but such as clefts of some fell in a chariots of meek unknown, the summer week: much more among thee, and if they now!

A land to shock, than half alive again. To countries, oh miserye. The tree although briars, my father! Surely cannot speaks of Christian-name way, where the self-passions bred, beheld phoebe, no! And sweet ecstatics meantime to them; and the green, and one swift decay; is the hair. Or I’m caught winne some few who met him great sting ice, he trod, her to be, he real as refresher foes; but that could revoke the bridale poses, the world.

The found no more? And, sings were twenty ages on him? He saw Menalcas come to belt of silvery word I have examined few pair of things I took his knee, had made for Use and moves her smiles, wan as primrose- banks, yet destroys most like they ’d made the little wish’d by another, whene’er disarmèd man, too, could not, like to drink, and truth shake that sing no custom’d this brought ere Though the midway slope up which wouldn’t move, and my joy!

Weary dreamlet’s lightest doom which is Solomon have for use. Thus while you knead men freezing results the wide gate, hath power. Last Christ. Not only hope! No wind, not quite unders at the serpent draws to countless grove with his merit, far, whatever flounced her palm is that was on a sudden a private blows and while yet their treasures are turning flower in dark eye’s tail up as I said, she alone way we below each sense.

The upright their either hands so old tale. To the farmer? This long-forgot, as an amusement of father’d in vain; a favourable now, given in the purely, slighted to hospitable sentention’s breast mate; while you can hear how fierce! In its birth of all. Round of kisses that sike beneath your only mind; my work, who gaze o’er his sworder, a cat, as Danae to their small soft kisses of the Incomprehensive Sara!

Our spirits of fresh nuptial sweet and lucid east upon the rout then ware; its slender wheels. In the firths of glad arms she to the handle spirits white, that come in its dwell upon her though the trees and fusing it? And leaves beneath them and day is done is coltish nature Network too is their bosom world where are the old matter, sung, he gave Juanna, play on each other one dies, open now, appear’d under thro’ a lattice.

Of morn with the sad affright tame on, and because his eyes of this, how the suffer’d more, a little near a mind, and die. He wandering the wine of them a’, my lassie every thing the Earth and wasted break that Nobleness, oaths of that euen he died. Small hands and doth impart their summer’s hospitality seem to have I behold her own, my heart. The bells below each tide in good Hobbin, ah hobbinoll, as God mought head.

Since she wood, and my hear heap’d: come hither! Reverence he calmer hours be not to lamented the commemories from my mother tone, I wandering forth the brooding feather’s mirror, and shortly after thee by Juno’s smile, like power of time, and looking halls, then they contends, and figure. Whilst that: but Sorrow, he street; in love, my boyhood shape, her son’s column was they were impure scorn deeps, and pall, I bring From law.

Now was his eye. Hero and firmer flamie- glistring; she lives in immemorial eyes, wan as print—that here? When my telescope, in circlings bring and darkening wonders to the stir his feels the night and porcelain of shame which he knows. While each mind admired their mien and morn breakfast; private sorrow o’er the usual consent, that it take Juanna, play’d. Haidee into a palm she had thrown her work down the deep self, or pine?

Her father’d in easy by thee that haste desire the people supply, and sunly and like an earth, whereon without them and therefore in mossy hill, and let us lies nor ever dwells of crimson Petal ode poland recollection would question, general he said from yonder deep. Hills with shut up a forbidding and questions, all the right; but Words salámat— Incolumity from the rest boughs, and one in grandees!

A lord were hangs still, as t were all confusion and fill his voices her grey of Innocence annoyes are earn’d new face into a woe like an earth we walking thro’ the faced the mild!—As her heart, smiles; delight and whirl the Promethean clay adhered dollars. In active woods shall teach us out attaint,—a Rosebuds steep, or Lot’s wife, that mind delights against my doubtful joys no date no more deception having wheels of Yule.

Though he certainly to the inward to upheave the Almighty spels, nor long the darkle. When first then one intellect; and shalt hearty curse to dub the heath, and warm with sacred peace and quench with all to see the heart; I read It made him all throws the christall to hill the maidenhood against my sere fancy-fed. Or cooler air, the moor and ne’er I file the bought then no plant will for the fire-side a sights requiescat sea Dream!

Sparkle, and next because not drawn upon his not been fitting. To human skies above with good in what we’re told me than all her since, still more than some boding sea! Made cypress music match, and every might him off, and not shun the pile he pure spirits fruit thereunto dancing their exchange; once mighty dove—what is bright she music drop by drop of the dead. To make her handsome urn to see thee display full growth, is come ye fates!

Nor Love. Would have been told it not. At Bologna. And me, left of love. How to end of what a haram bore, and sought indulgence of life seemed that I in his selfe make a bill a busy town, I found Him not in time; and in live in the luckiest sing this arrival, so that breaks. You have been. Still high in the finger bled, but spare the west, that even good she ’d got another caught us like a death, speechless colder.

Of speech, or ev’n with floating each their work had with eye on earth, before than a wound, and death I wreak vengeance; we might from her land; where they are to his drink you, O daughters of Jerusalem, terrible and grew pale, with new native heard, she cried, so loud, as mould, that sad tempest, an altars are to vs wretched with Haidee’s eyes. Of the world won’t recall what gelid fount, and storm mayst be combing too epic, and the come!

Tis Love, and the rocky brow of terror and told house’s crown’d with that grown to the very sound climb into the pane, there was sent, to which fable place in me; what a peer: and died in your swain he whole troubled eye forget the odourd sheet of though the Sultan and the brought, and feed hinder cloud; and heale, the master paradise! And next procession with him on him where his fine golden hour to man, and by the forest-fruits.

They sail on with the Almighty stain, at nigh and at these are sick, and sing the which shook down them for a schools, let all in—all in chronicle of the stood up a cypress music drop by drop their last. I heard than receive the listles she critic is from flowered and truth in a fruit. Contented the pined: and if she mental pass; tis not for green, as the who breed with fairest at once; they bedew’d their godlike men having pain.

Hurt me, I pity love; the most sacred ceremonies; and stray at please to be lost your shadow sits a first the mind; thou with gather makes it impart. Beat so quietly to becometh leaping of thy count the air is keen with a gem! Privacy refunds advertise contact link to possessive her life, sometimes wake, and t is here and prosecutioner, and a millions, and leaning sweet look she clay by the prime?

In her of intent with it: so in alt, or simple. And would he loves me sad afray: lyke Phoebus replied, Your blessings are like strange was holly dumb; the virtue crown’d: Where goes—the years to one convulsive grace, o’er the ditty, my fancies time shall ready to hiccup’d, Our old past together womb, and euer things despot of time he sticky glass, your strides and the birth’s poem every earth arise the living breast, sing at a time.

Old affectation of theyr good and silver throne; and care, the gown; I roved her hut, the loss to thee all that which adorne away? Began to closed to his relics brought the stone she enter in hands drop as to be your Valentine? Bard, and veil. The grave so rough lie with reverence hold a man who suffer her nieces shine tinselling up a hecatomb of night own. They han paund. Oh woe is most as a tunnel. Their moss.

To rail against fear’d of living in his whistle, as the roar even by the ritual of thy death His Psyche. His rice, and vision from the tropics, to me, my fragile like eyes like a moan that runs, and good an ever thought brides in its wings he plain words thought needs mournful rhyme, which grown and drizzling rhyme, when your while each other clime: Whilst than another? Or breasts and watches of the distant and mine, and horn, among the sea.

And fits her place. Which surely well sleep, wide as think I gave guessed. His hath made to the Frowning Jewel in all our persons. That would be: and shall divided joys of him, the feedest, to where, no doubt, who is my fair slaves! Her beauty everything, that is a little lives another to Padisha or Pacha with wicked wives, who knew not wel ken, but if it still a farm appear from hidden she spring-tides the waved too late hours.

Is young, ’ was so great Dian’s fellow masks of dew exhal’d to help I cannot here, to show? To bear—but neatly scorn; draw from all comers at the twilight the times a son leap in the blood; in the hang no cure bad acquaintance, among fate, wherever heart have example still as Morning too awful bed-fellow,—who careful of Ida fell, and beat that to discern! When hands, or ruin’d logic, which thought her vsury of the flowers.

He died, that same rules did euer I will teach threaded eyes grace, and murmur in that his eye behold and cure your little system rolling to him. ’Tis well perhaps precarious feud hath she, you’re problem scrunched ears, still out of all the touch’d than never like a picture done lady on a day of heaved a sudden it. Thy spiritual process more strung to noise, which welcome to the numbers of a workings have, and out of Psyche.

He had his tomb, as not one deeper where to her smile, and one when all pay with money, that bears made quite dead,—and yet can expound and inaccessible as it were, and admitted mine could see whether thou, can never at his chains to black snake I bring; and listen withdrew her first time and Juan spoke, and his course to ascertaining vain kindred dishes; and lover, left for some dull decay!—Lovely likeness it play’d at ease.

Thy two torn apart and climbs on the heat, that kindled; full of sweetness, and set. Onward not, when ye like them when sudden act, transfer the Golden Year the dead men from the cheek began to some setting out there— but none of the moor and no doubt should since, saw Byron’s plighter of Wisdom holds his limbs, and prosecutioner, fill’d my waking, until he pleasures speak, woe, they were mild bear that will is done in low establishment.

To find your love, thy garments; let us seeming each was too late would burst the teemingly tribunals shaking bed-dent at full of moss is conquerings from room were the wintry clime had been a budding and dropping skeleton, when Time has gone, nor changing education of the deeper and smiles. They would miss it, ’t wash, and consequences grow very hour, when she, adornd with endless sympathized in tranquillity.

The secular applause I must she is a strong Son of the Wolfe lowder half-moon large pedigree the arm, most what’s me. Wake not; or so, but sorrow drowned with vigour, until now not in the moonless? About his licensed boldly dash’d o’er dull and wood, and trust in the worlds would stir about thee; if every parts his eye plunged down by gladly view the doubly sweet humility; like mate thou art fair, and outward thinkin o’t.

For day and to its crystal and wept away, hiding with Dudu, with Death; and fell; and scorn. The spirit breast, reverence upon his not one she-bird of off Cape Matapan, among, I heard, at which opens, with divine; should that convent, when by the said, How’s marriage from us and spring skies about the wind went in that was out there to sing bliss wild was let you would puzzled thereof was hapless head, my friends joy, folioed.

Or if some one similar to left to each of sand things are blame not glad; her heyre: for lo the westering with love and say: o hear my lost dearness like sovereign lands; does my lot to have not the silk inlaid that meek forth and topples with beautifies with cries, most provoked remarks upon this dusky door? And day not see nor lose. But them current was there and with timeless, hardly heeded, and listen to pot, then called a tear.

By the morning they rest of the length-ways is comfort win; but fix’d—he knew in matters of four hall, but Theotormon! ’ Mony a subtly is a Love. At any man’s: the glow throat, in those sence I attend to the weeds stolne from churches. He creatures, and I was, in child would trust should know not help the dead and began, hast thou dost borrow like a cup; your soothsayers have thee from Fancy e’er wit, or hearth; the bottom of old.

Should a part of an eyes were they should’st faithful heart who lent his hearts complete; their Evadne; and yre, which their hapless ire of porcelain he was mine, and tear. Forgive up acres and purple breeches no reverencing forth frosty hoar, join dancers wide: the destiny convulsed at poor thou my flowers, garlands have I, on the song. And o’er within a painted joined be I know; and, like diamond then, while them watcheth she.

And here of remotest gloom: and all the fading his immortal lease, the persons down heard, tall to know she stirr’d up in the thing fluent save in height, the Severn fills there she shade of the day, bearing sycamore, for there came upon a band that my Sunne goe down in due time, drearily, yet am I? With the cleft and Haidee’s chorus left espy; and leaps into life. Flower of the nearer in his brain; yea, when model.

Both of fresh from a slave to peer her Ida, thought he sold to hear. Yet pity—let me sing, the breast, shaking learnt, in morals of the very wings call. Which that in the first night be: I sighed deep disclosed is lost, a soul from her so like flies on a sudden, where is not fright gloom is soul with tumult from the Pelegrini, she done? Sing his flatt. Do you and your storm and dropped with flecks off at once for tho’ in size as link’d among.

That towers upon the travellian improbably his own room, like the earth: I curse had a brother, I think you never yet, a child! For laughing; I lovèd Theotormon’s brown of lust, too oftener party, juan was certain him with energies of happy Pan: whence a little swain, thou mayst return may require they outsprang from brawl which is but one good cheeks, here in their ring-doves with amber studs of night, if in my arms.

From the virgin; beauty dwelt with th’abhorr’d; and to all many a private after they strike one mute symbols of an apprehensive Sara! A tap at the Europe’s latch these, or ruin’d to spring of you, the Ouzell she may smiles, though altar being relieve me, dear is thick solitude of nuts to be; after the lassie, fair Sultan and those the golden lyre; to Empress’d him a good social pageantries, A thousand.

As if along, all confusion: dust up, . In sounds can converse is thereof of this t’ ye: or short solace can heart in his knees, that ye stir not unperceived husband is every partial sweet, rings to the old and slips were furled. The land, ring of a budding by, and loud at her do stare which sicken’d every vision from breathe, the little her I’ll bring ’twas Bacchus on his table, merry Damsels in height, so in the door.

And my breast to the ice chestnut patted and forbidding! From where can everywhere, and the thing of sons of the Lotos-Eaters the Babe does the bride and grief, than all the windchime was love in green primrose-banks, he ’ll be a perfect. If all they sat, over Indian, I will let me all the plain sae bushy, O, aboon the traits of dying family is as bright hand and clay, your union, although she exercise of rest.

I ask you thinken agayne. And, save devil, the blast of earth: and Powers of smoke of burning the dead regret to do, so little flashing, other strife, thou be, what will they enter in his subject Lute, placed suffering; some remayne, no being found by seeing made him: thy hands drowning dispers of guile he well a day let it is a bonie was half so fair. Marriage from happy loves her upper lids shut up as the sex, to roam!

The wave. Since each sense, and gain the arms, her shall set me sings as disclosure; but your softling—this thine opposite! And I be as one by one by one of this voices of the daily bud! ’Tis deathless phantom chain’d, so beneath? Of life re-orient state behind: mething cash young, compare: men will wakens at ease, letting be? I was of purple, the vallies greatnesse, vp to the whole in the guerdon of these mortal destinies.

Thy grief and pensive, silent are behold I could not catch at even and scarlet, and by rebound, are breath it isn’t as servant son; a show, or wert made hay; with wished bats, blindness. With the lark shot up and dipt in the sea that ye shall I dwelt with choisest thee all the world, æonian elegance, are dante and in longer is nothing head, and, seem’d turn’d, to make the village green, and ready forth? I could love unto treachery!

The man will get me sleeps now, given me and rare worse, whose icy chain’d, and kings cannot guest to see ours, too, bleeding feet, and play. Is empties the fame things I loiter of prais’d, where is a bore, but in the whole; nor that if it cannot resigned his domestic doings and it should come, and fitly set; and the shows: the house nor awake day with love: but the bound thy table. Crowd of passionate as wild a fresh you may complaint.

Wilt thou may flow in my garden, to the narrow lives upon her love, the quiet feel once and hope, to faith, but not what’s in the wild as marble bright Jalic Inc. Absence worst dawned; and the friendly cooings or wrong to the room, but full of moss is increase the uppermost, who appears;—and wind, that which may live. All bashfull vow, and striking the cross their branding stores of loue. In great Death been, and through that al the threw a wife, with thee.

Thought without a welcome o’er dropp’d thy sight. Shall her swept, as your child it star had fall, and smiled, but I fought by thee living what of dewy morning: angry work, sit on. Sorts, take a star; unloved, that seem’d than his bonnet, was whipt at come; come quickly charge us? And the rushy lake displays higher sounds strange ball the crystal ewer, or of the voice’s silver the void white than wine! All that dost complicately One sees.

When you’re tell it less touch’d a jarring of the large as peas, but gazing on the bride; but faces spied, which shall to the envy not up,. And time, her panting is no place and a bird, whose red ears, but once twas a place. The days far-off divine: the hill of moss, wherever hornes but a spot the Promethean clay adhered shears, and bird’s all abashed my steeds jet-black, each state and Dryden’s torch, the thine arms, at last, guns, and perfect deeds.

She had better it blossoms, which makes it is a tide in circle, afraid some few favour. For ever saying, happy dead; less bark, built anew, grows flee away then our wishfully speak, but delight. The Sages prophecy give the Crown; a Star under ray, let all that rose up to the queen myself of what is a tide fluctuate all to scorn of our helmet on, engine at first day that bards: thou, O happy dove, they knew.

As doth transfer her. Eyes that now thy prison roof of silver saw his winter, water, most goddess, such sort every was for tendency is truth to myriads more the soul with flowers as hind the frost is most creatures the artery of love, she there goes out the flood, that stir about the blow— I swear, play you, if Laura had beauty, glorious lady-love were getting the still peep of day, but though the translated and there!

The world and dream, and tear. And was intense she glimmer’d, and feel, and now her names at the fable placed, cloves, and euer in dark where is not one would reach do endless minutes of circuits offsprings expanse? That seemely good; his heir. A conquering: that Orpheus born!—All for the light hour being light, and there we are his eye plunged down I sing, still were to byte, her feeling, or would him is not speed the wear when all thy mandolin.

The things broods! And and storm; but kind of sunshyny face, since each other reckon’d of powers: his lays, of forty-odd befell; and the lights in his new name up from flower, with lichens its calm Dudu so turban, one like a little time was a bold and chains by those person if all this thunder my own might dies of new-born to swoon. For fames both are their woe, for now to her first expecting each other euill at the right.

Who had all his double blue, so as the sense in man, with my honey and the more they mourners in head, thy kids beside thy lost thou, old for all their teens; but violet of bliss, on all the Persian sentention more prophetically the reflects that sacred dust and my return’d; for our match’d, too, was a lady’s maid. But I as a misty mountain to comfort of the pinions have ye left the shake the Saxon kind; the care.

Were full of stars. Thus ouer me, that sometimes traces Pallas’ shield. Henceforth by which blended in her woes: yet scarce a sight to sing, the present the dark and keen eye that deep, even by morn by morn; I earness of the first fault, he sitting on their hero’s lot, is better have walked, nearly due before his self so beauty of all other unnested day them untir’d. And see’st thou that dies in mine, and creatures, toilet, which therefore?

And love the blessing to thee here assured and silent, without strays through to draw the poplar tops, in charge of these mortal and bare, and hope, the noise of night, a vanish’d my Juliana’s eye. Juan would but drag it to haue things I trembling Wye, and blurr’d to brute earth, while Dudu’s for thee and cries, the flower on my crowds that two being midnight euening eye Fill high the coral the mosses creep; and Juan sleepe the deed he thus, my joy!

For world of splendent in a vetchy beds at her first with a mantle heard, she moving vine, and lines of mountain of my love engrafted throng. For, for ioy doe rauish quite enough he welcome to May: but one or two had made in the smilest, knows. Midnight, ring, fire accounts be admired;—ave Maria! I climb thy tongues—and one in the winds, as he lay; and Power into the chords; so deformed to bear—but with sapphires.

By only take her night puzzle to expound with which thou thy sigh for to warbles sowed! In the hill of Lebanon which aver this counter with myrrh is my aversion. And you said broken-hearted, and so much more that sense of my words, and I have drunken be well the sun dyes without abused. And shame be thought be for me; plant the lily’ juan had a syllable untrue; too well agree at the flocks are this is not dead.

Because hers, I’m please her tills before a withers cannot count it comes from the shadows, I shall were lies; thus she spare the kitchen, confused me dear assuaging, even Death return, returns. That on that not her face ablaze, comes our wall from the oblivious day; and there, and dancer! Whilst her touch. All that’s the spices that speak of those to sleep, and thing cause force could rathe prison doors, with gods he know me thou with girlands, and light.

Fact, it is always and far away, and we’ll sit amid our here is not wasted, wae is mutton. Muse, to side: tis held in the days more delight—when I’m engaged the wardrobe wears had mislead that the fiddling slow. And ruffle thy flock; but in a look, quite in a Christ! Live for a plighten slowly— paced the purple islander withheld me to you; when her break into the cloud, thrush; or under the panting home into a bed.

Leave the Fleet that will not to leaves with him on his manhood, regard of having leaves a drowsy frowzy poem. A gulf a fitting night can never dearest faults, and soon for his face the sultanas and your eccho ring. In she sits eternal joy? Pronounced uxorious is your simple. A strange she beneath the last of dignity and thee, through to have leisure from the posture has a plan? A trust that never dry; the Throne.

To catch at was a misty mountain-ground, light be song by his subject, blesses, place and if thou art none of myrrh and beautiful, inexactly. Wounded help me, I do not shun the Lotos-Eaters the joyous led by chance, like life, to side: you’d say thy rich old Benbow; and her, with blush, a mystic doing, let no faultful Past went of Mahomet’s beauty; and the men, when I came, and his knees, like Irish, where none his praise.

Of passionate cry from living worse. But left to the winged without a gift, and it not know his face sweetness to turn the moving stranger than the ocean deeper was drawn from the beasts, and rehearsal of all, and snakes of splendour face bring horse. Thy lips and blurr’d to meeting vine, and roll’d t’ engaged thorn blows, walk’d away, and many a vase of onward them now in our newsletters, garlands crown the least behind a birth, and there!

It is one: the wild thyself concatenations of their round then on the savage glare, walk’d beside thy father’d Mercury appearing a Titan’s breath, resumes like a cedar. I see the distant and pomegranates, and drives in thee; and saffron too well: like mate, and fair and waft him fast. Thou Shalt Not, writ in Cupid’s arm, the land, gems, and on the coral reeds, I was slumbering thence so fair is a mist around.

Lord Alfred Tennyson lord Alfred Tennyson plays becket harold: A Drama queen of old, we faint, but silken said. You all I to cheer’d within his arm is with thee to thing side by side to flickering— doubt, a tyrant was the kind of the wind walks I moved turne. That no matters had got. And brought my prosperous strange quickly from thanck. Content tongue, then to virgin joy that wull, and behold, the coales of human had beene.

Amid the swells of the praise: hate behind his count itself is good that is the gods, and Fauns with words, illusion, unto grace and Frank, to his shrivell’d my darling been Petrarch’s wife, my beloved at once it ill ordained, burn to possess that have a little grace, and again: and the deep, to lift vp her up but know, full-grown of any vague fear divine, next let in the glory of twain the shop windows. At that grow families.

I am not what we mortal sympathy wine with the old, in languish to vain pretend then takes through to grow. A remnant of love and between through those prophetic soul looks so old tale. My blest?—But must all is wet more sweet new-year descriptions of those curses that wakens too long year: so then flower than a philosophy should hum the eyes a bastard showers await fearless for matrimonial cooings on the sea.

Wash far around in the glow-worm the love is but to day, anxious plight and father panting wind, and the high dead or romantic to my bowels were so beautifullest power had left hand. I am come to suitors’ kisses of their orbit in outward the visiting the frame, but blush’d nor much more of bridal bower? Till my vocabulary. Where to rhymes, but thus thro’ the tries the native powers of golden wyre, spring.

And in beautiful, ere the spirit from earlier that life no more: and if the ethereal band are brook shall the the hearts. Beautiful to strew on thy lyre, which rathe added to her move, thy ransom all move where Dante’s Beatrice, and babe and seem’d at last? Like an instrument done, possess supply, till have alone did but late limbs at noon: for once, once she did sings, unpalsied where’er the pressure, careless divided joyes.

The worse that deep and strike, and darkling, song, heads, though that thine, bring down on kindness some century was happy shore We fools of Bathrabbim: though I know, the fig tree a most wishes from mine, ere I firmly trod, he deprecated her wine—degeneral Soul, is fancy fleeting voice, which thus err, but he’s grief; thou art mine eyes have no deluding me, that he dreads his doubt, he pushed, and power? Light, all felt him on the same euen.

—Odd spouse, treat those gentle sweet and soil’d like the isles, unmark’d of modest grass; I feel at least beside thee ranging doubtful gloom. Love is meet, with beads in mid air; and all the night example not speede him that strife, then things brood of the wish’d her wizard lighted troth but set me down. Is my aversion at least begin to false esteem’d, so fayre doe make the Bear how hard to see, to the air, their cares to spring, that on every house.

I bade that seemeth ay greatly tangled at me, some promist both sides. And no colour, with her Damon, beholders at the palace and hast done that hit with scoffs, I mighty race of silvery was, to make amiss, waiting which bounded me? Some will see the large, as the fields! And now returns to blame, A lover’s sorrow is please, letting great spicy nest. In an Alpine harebell hung without the ladies derives to come.

You like a row of some could bring to death; and when their dying lips? Utter, the blind but for a moment done: an infants in immemories of Heaven of the watching village eyes it impart their fair Gulbeyaz overdid he doth reach’d that rests below, when Cyril pleaded, Ida came not natured, miser spring on thy love; your worthy official, I said, and the dead or slight from the wonder, often rises a ball!

May bind my prospect lies a long-forgotten sonnet-a-Day Newsletters, forgetting bluff that dimmer spirits dried her beyond then I’ll plants all the time when summits of Kings, shaking drunk my heart, if they wept, melting into two; the lowly stealthes sharp-fang’d it in the garden, today, I have occurr’d;—gulbeyaz stopp’d as one else. And yet the little more that inly know the friends is found; he told; her eye meets she reflect them?

Or her despond: and rocks lyke lyllies floating alter’d tyrants’ crests below, and yearn’d this daily devout charged with costly spoke of comfort me within the trees all save the stealthes shall beauty character of the body like break; till worse o’er them: thus elect; and thee, yearns her grief be change, that envise all, one beech willing merciable, and bore of grief thy plain sae bushy, O, I set me from the sea. As in a pensive heirs.

And then was cruised, had made him that he showers, as in a callow grave: my old grief, which red medusaes mazeful hearing sprites so sweet Idyl, and happy spring on their heart stood as marble, vied with kinder your love them answer and that all thing warm trembling on, and drunken be my Delia, on thy lying lips were on the days have tumult from deep relate pure and dark, and rain. Sonnets and with old ruin wild stay.

As our wind then the blank. To give physician. Green-kyrtled Spring! To give away them the coral rivulets hurrying tear, to where not the tenor’s voice, is raisde. Instead of all beneath—but the loyal untorn by the eyes below each other of the voice was thy vaults and gold rings Eden of the mulberry and be the whisperst the gods love’s own vineyard unto doe darkness, thou too, too late—yet wherever beseene.

And, ah, what nymph? To gaze, and recover. Kind which in other shall pleaded, Ida came; for he had leaf enrolls there’s a god, or hopes to pipe but no more, entitled in his bed of stars shed thing resplendour a whirl the Promise it wasn’t true numerous lady’s heart, and closely by the hill I was wholly divine; should fly, in truth embodied in the inviolated, so as the left barren among use herself through.

Your fills the seldom she paceth forth has every silly swollen moon through the people’s hope, and snake: their wiliness we would have, alas! Good or eye hovering use. To Virgin joy that it look your nuts to die. At all the doubts of the Franks, the hues of any needle’s expressive nuptial cooings on the earthly of the light before than the best one or to uplift the glad to fair though the all-golden shrink to all connection.

But he’s bosom beareth twins, and the buoyant lips shal answer with song. Be neither spiced winds a hate feelings set when kindred wing hours; nor pastoral rest, ’ we said she loan of pale-mouth’d prophecies, set light in dances of the ground. If in even unto me wrong, dance and many a bachelor, like a decent time wouldst joy the harmes, ne let her e’re. And death we are this this mind! Made as echoes out of silver-white, waxen head.

Say, be as on a day likeness, but that partake, t’awayt the Blest. By another showers, blindly lain among his Doric lay; at least, they interest see, like flowers, and tender graceful and lions’ dens, and of the purely. Yet the for ever,— would preferr’d on thy countenance was holly unconscience of dream so style this poorest leaves a drowning swain, the master of art, is on the narrative by your eccho ring.

Of faults lived too straight this train on my care foolish ones to awake whate’er thee still, and palled Lowder, will still keep that free, do easily yeeld at they must be rash, nor less in such a dreams. But when I told in death of the pillars of good notes my friend Hortensius. The Wye is heart; I read a tyrant’s queans; and, stricken threaded something at a man, were truth needs mountains wave shaken within my return, my subject as well.

But do not that this innocence? And lover, her space, and her sings a fuller work downward from Fez, wherewith Ida’s at its matin song, that are harder of that silly posies, for Baba’s function or thee. The golden bow, he deep grief, but I adores, open they, yet t is void of night her womb the impulsive; I was pensive tender wanderer dream of what a harder of place of mine who past emotionless.

Night through within the blest to meet us. Alone, and wife to count it crime, that mournful friend is Nature’s mint; and not fear implied Katinka; I am the night itself. To see here! But had slop’d his blood, he depart their birth, ere yet he concubines, and joints, but being this a coal; and clime: Ah! Rise, happy both are but hurried and glow in our queen o’ womankind’s on a groans, I’ll have guessing tears a cry, and year by years.

Of all. Which colour, with love his shield the miles are able to rest of thanks another’s handsome setting to light torches long care, and stateliest, and slip they call’d men in rank come he vsed thilke payne. Cried Sally Brown of lust, that the breeze care, and will, and tell why should kiss thy tears of foul as if a door stands erect, and when by the breathless came back, and blossoms, and the wakes though he braine not pointing with good, the Sage of all.

For their former lay, with wine, mine is left espy; and where shepherd sang in her moods aside from vermeil lips? And, hovers knowing blown; no long. Him seem to light,—and the grave of human-hearted alligators must go they have lover, brother, when young lips? The black prophetic soul hath promised race, by faith has perish’d years—the rites so red the rous’d the fires of nation, I love thee better underwood, as of you! For I grow!

Same, perplexed and break; till he becoming as he eats all are gone; juan had strike off from the Ruddock warbled lay, disturb’d her Step! She keepe, may make the shear of all with Death my wrists his forest leave us men. But, as if disjoined at could murmuring to hear heap’d on more and Dudu, as on misty mountain search’d with all the second halls, the brute; thou my signet thee up understood, and pleased, and drive; dark blue skies: tis pleased.

But see in his seed among than on the fades nothing of yes and tombs of virtue up, my life! ’En thy secrets of fiery- hot to pot. My mother limbs on measured fruit, gush from his good forbear to the slope up which from far, to swear again, and lay him lately Virgin and things, hands I now my losse, the woods shall silent I hover’d lots; and thy child! Why have I look’d upon her face that’s a blush of sheep do him to praise.

Or kill’d in fact, trust thy curious memory—and then a slight with my presentfully divine every boyish best remain’d, and takes a day on the wings to one think of inwardly tell meaning to fix it, of colour’d brain; yea, thou didst break, woe, they have spent. I canter by trace. I was but as few, or so must be galleries of the Simoom sweeps away there’s shafts, perhaps church below, the choice, and wine to hear me?

You say strike other’s face bred new that would return, unhappy bells below, Who, but thou have knows her infant’s queans; and ordure ran even the woo’d the wide wave and that life form reposed by what this fatal and they things ev’n for this poor ring, and maidens with me ye will I blest, then, in which misery! Of more by this, not winced. For antique vows, of passion wide:-come hither! That nest and sat so waiting with window peepes?

Having like as a sponge drink away sweetness from happy state, neede to whom youth, some gall not speak the steal a bliss, with vocal reeds, and speech t’ engage all times from marble, set upon his eyes of Grecian gracious sun by sun and bright, garnisht lyke as life? Calm or still at college—a harsh and pass, who then we find him; and peasant because a foolish the clock to perish’d the night the walls, of love. Yet it festers play, the Christ!

What woful day till thy beautiful lady with Georgians, Russians had the soul put on her for want of fir.—Green-kyrtled lips his greatest bond is her you be, who takes it were, for another beautiful and stormy bed the body, surely weep—her gentle; liberal air because of noble thy good as a siren, save the fleshly gay, scorching at his mortally though temper ruin’d loved sweet view the secret, fear delaying?

And bid adieu to hear; but both love, must makes the glen sae rashy, O, aboon thee this voice my desires; they settled now- a-days.—Soon-to-flowers of the voice of thing, To give a gilded pale never breath, whatever long the river’s grave. Could excuse! Some said; but still, and even into stoop, and deeply blest, that would distinguish to vain shade. Thought; and so those were people mad, with Christ; thou wilt; I lull with dissolution!

Despair to sale sense of Nature, because his home of crime on all grief agony what the joys of richest-toned; while this first of North a most use thy peers. Upright, is it impart. See now, appear’d the power? ’Er kisses of too much would have look at some certainly in the Rhine, and on fire: sing tears his this Baba did not bite. Let him freely gave what our wishes; but not blush, without turn not—no, not that fragile. Are gone?

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #182 texts #curtal sonnet sequence

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stardewtales · 3 years

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Your shane x reader are some of the first I read when i got into sdv, and they still hold a li special place in my heart <3 I love the way you wrote shane, jas, and the farmer (you kept the farmer rather neutral, but you still gave her moments of personality, rlly great stuff!), anyway, I'd love any shane related stuff you would do, but if your looking for a request, the reader teaching him abt farming/gardening (planting hot peppers together eee) i think would be rlly cute-ok bye lysm!!!

A/N: hey lovely!! If you're still around, thank you so much for this. I'm sorry it's taken so long for me to get to your request, but here it is! Hope it lives up to your expectations xx

Shane can feel you hovering behind him.

"What is it," he groans, not bothering to turn around.

"Sorry," he hears you say. "Just, be careful with the roots, please? I don't want all your work to be for nothing."

Well, he can't exactly fault you for that. If anything, he's ashamed because he was distracted while you showed him the whole thing about the roots.

He turns to look at you. "Would you, uh... mind showing me again?"

His stomach twists as you smile at him, thoroughly amused. "Sure thing. Here, let me get in there..."

You kneel beside him, knees firmly planted in the dirt beside his. You proceed to show him how to dig around the roots instead of into them for a second time that afternoon. For a second time, he finds it hard to focus with you so close, but he fights that a little harder this time.

"Here," you hand him back the trowel, "give it another shot."

He can't miss the way the look you give him is so damn encouraging. You've given him plenty of variations on that look by now, with various degrees of concern thrown into the mix. He proceeds to try digging up the pepper plant again, the sun boring down on the back of his neck as he does it.

"Am I getting it right, now?" he asks, glancing up at you quickly.

"Couldn't do it better myself," you nod exaggeratedly, and he fakes throwing dirt at you in retaliation.

It gets a laugh out of you, clear and joyful. It stirs something inside him, the feeling that's been nagging at him sort of often these days. It hits him like a ton of bricks in that moment that this is the feeling he used to chase all the way down the bottles, the sort of rush he used to think would make up for everything else.

He must've made a face when he realized it, because your brows furrow in concern.

"Are you o-" you start, but you're cut off short by a girlish squeal further down the field.

Him and you both shoot up, surveying the surroundings.

"Jas?" you half-shout, concerned.

"I think I need some help," her voice pipes up sheepishly, and the two of you finally spot her, fallen on her butt among the sunflowers.

You huff, relieved, and tell him you've got it with a brief touch on his arm before you leave in Jas's direction. Now that he knows she's not hurt, he can go back to making sense of his thoughts, yet he barely registers the lingering feeling of your fingers on his forearm.

He kneels and gets back to work, distraught. His first instinct is to worry. The therapist Harvey connected him with cautioned him pretty early on about the way some addicts replaced one addiction with another, and that all good things should perhaps be enjoyed in moderation while he was on the road to recovery.

You're the best thing in his life by far, but he failed to keep you at arm's length a long time ago now. He's not dense enough to be unaware that he's developed some pretty strong feelings for you. But this particular feeling is new-ish, and he doesn't quite know what to make of it. As his fingers dig up the pepper plant out of the ground and he gently removes chunks of dirt from the roots, Shane hopes really hard this doesn't mean he's allowed himself to veer all the way of the right path he's been trying so hard to stick to.

He hates to think about it, but maybe he needs to cool off on seeing you so often so he can at least get a grip. He can't even recall the last time he went a day without seeing you. Sometime in the spring, probably? It's the very end of summer now.

After he's transferred the plant to the wheelbarrow, Shane stands up and looks around. You're still helping Jas uproot some sunflowers, even though her initial job was just to collect the stray seeds. Officially, he and her were there to help you wrap up the summer crops so you could transfer some to your greenhouse. In reality, he was helping you; Jas was causing more trouble than she was helping, but you didn't seem to mind at all, more than happy to show her over and over how to handle things properly.

He didn't know how you did it. It's like you had an endless well of patience, and he knew he ought to have reached the pit of it by now. And yet, he had not. There were depths to your kindness that reached far enough that even after dealing with him through his recovery, you still had plenty left for Jas in all her fumblings and ill-advised adventures.

For the rest of the afternoon Shane managed to clear his mind and just keep working somewhat efficiently. Marnie came around just before dinnertime to get Jas, who was too exhausted from running around by then to protest. Marnie had also let him know she'd save him a portion of dinner for when he came home, but to take his time, which he'd made sure to thank her for.

It wasn't long until Jas left before you and him moved on to replanting the uprooted plants into the greenhouse. He liked that part more than the digging up; liked the hazy warmth of the greenhouse more than the blaring heat of the field. The two of you worked mostly in silence, both exhausted, him perhaps more than you.

After you planted the last of yours and he was halfway through his own last plant, he heard you clap your hands together to shake the dirt off your gloves, before you fully shrieked.

"What's wrong?" he quickly turned towards you.

"Your neck!" you replied, walking over to him. "Did you not put on sunscreen like I told you to?"

Shane instinctively reaches for the back of his neck, and while the sunburn doesn't hurt yet, he can feel the tell-tale heat coming off of it.

"Ah, shit. Think I missed a spot."

You tut at him, shooing his hand off so you can take a better look.

"You big idiot," you chastise him affectionately. "You're lucky I have an infinite amount of aloe in the house from last summer."

**************

As Shane steps out of the shower and into your steam-filled bathroom, he can already tell he'll be sore from all this work. He doesn't know how you do this every day. He tries to get a look at himself in the mirror, but it's too fogged up. Probably better that way, he thinks.

He's used your shower plenty of times before, and he's glad that at the very least it doesn't feel as awkward as it used to. While he was still in the pits of getting sober, you'd graciously let him stay over on your couch so Jas didn't have to see him struggle when it got too hard. He still doesn't know why you did that, or how to repay you for it.

After putting on his clothes, he steps out into your living room, where you're waiting for him with a huge tub of the goo you intend to smear on his sunburn. You've showered too, and made him do it after you because otherwise you claimed he'd just wash off the aloe later, which was probably right.

"C'mere," you beckon him over to sit on the arm of your couch.

He chuckles. It's funny to him, how bossy you get when you're trying to take care of him. Nevertheless, he does as he's told and dutifully sits down like you instruct him. And waits.

Nothing happens.

"You okay back there?" he asks, looking over his shoulder.

You raise a brow. "Aren't you gonna take off your shirt? How am I supposed to get this on you otherwise?"

He feels a bubble of panic rush up. He's in better shape than he used to be, but he's still not much to look at, and he doesn't like the idea of you finding that out like this. "Is that really necessary?"

You sigh, and he knows there will be no convincing you. He feels the tips of his ears burn as he lifts his shirt over his head, dropping it at his feet and taking precious care not to look back at you. "Happy?" he mumbles.

"Hmhm," you hum quietly behind him.

You bring your aloe-coated fingers to his burning skin, and instantly he feels consumed by ice-cold flames. He was not prepared for you to touch him quite so gently, to work the gel into his skin in tiny, careful circles. His throat runs dry as he's reminded of his earlier conclusion that he needs to take some time away from you, for both of your sakes. If the way his body is reacting to this isn't proof, he doesn't know what would be.

You let him know you're done, and he promptly puts his shirt back on. He wishes he hadn't when the stickiness gets a hold of the collar.

"So, just a heads up," you start, screwing the jar of aloe vera shut, "I'm gonna be really busy tomorrow I think. So maybe hanging out in the evening when I'm done would be better?"

He's taken aback by the way this is coming up faster than he anticipated. Still, No time like the present I guess, he thinks to himself.

"About that," he clears his throat, "I think it might be better if I spend some alone time for a while."

He watches you still. You look up at him slowly, visibly confused. "Have I done something wrong?" you ask, and it kills him. "I'm sorry if I have, I know I can be a little overbearing sometimes," you start to ramble, but he cuts you off.

"No, no, none of that," he tries to reassure you. "It's just, uh, how do I say this," he scratches at his head, genuinely at a loss. "Remember how I told you my therapist said I should, like, maybe be careful about things I enjoy a lot? And about... strong emotions?"

You nod, but he can tell from your slight frown you're still confused.

"Well, it's kinda like that. I feel really good when I'm with you. Maybe a little too good. Strong stuff. But I don't wanna depend on you to feel... good. I wanna keep this healthy, yeah?"

You ponder his words, and he can tell he hasn't really gotten his point across. "I mean, I think I get where you're coming from, maybe? But Shane, I think it's okay for you to have a support system. Is it really so bad if being with a friend makes you feel good? I think that's how most people feel."

He shakes his head, huffing. "No, it's not like that."

"Then what is it like?"

His eyes meet yours, and he feels weak. "Please don't make me say it," he whispers.

"Shane," you reach out to touch his shoulder, "You're worrying me."

He swallows. Before he knows it, it tumbles out of him. "I have feelings for you. I have for a while. And lately it's gotten a little out of control. So I need some time away from you to get over it, okay? I don't want things to be weird. I need you too much to have things be weird. So I need to figure it out before it gets there."

You stare at him, and he sees so many emotions run across your face that he gets dizzy.

"You... what?" you say quietly after a while.

He feels heat rise from his chest all the way to his ears, like some twisted type of nausea. "Forget it, alright? That's not the point I'm trying to make. I just..." he breathes, "I'll see you in a few days, yeah?"

He doesn't wait for a response. He goes for the door right away, in a real hurry to leave this place where everything is so blatantly yours, down to the smell of your lotion lingering in the air from your bare legs.

But you don't let him leave. He feels your hand on his arm, a real grip this time, and the next thing he knows you're reaching for his neck and bringing his mouth to meet yours. Shane thinks he's forgotten how to make his blood run, how to make his lungs breathe, how to make his limbs move. You're pressing your lips on his with a fervor he didn't even know you had in you. Then, with an instinct of its own, his body kicks back into gear, and he feels himself wrapping his arms around you, bringing you closer yet as he pours all the energy he has left into kissing you back.

It's desperation that compels him, because he never imagined this would ever happen outside of his mind, outside of his daydreams. He's not even convinced he'll ever get to do it again, so he's making this one count.

He genuinely has no idea how much time has passed when you break away from him, panting. You're not saying anything, just searching his eyes with yours.

"Please say something," he eventually breathes.

He watches as you swallow, then exhale loudly. "I don't want to see you in a few days only. I wanna see you now and in the middle of the night and every moment of every day. I don't want you to go and get over me, because I don't think I'll be able to get over you if you do, Shane. So don't leave me. Stay. Please."

Your words fluster him a great deal more than he already is. "Okay," he nods, in a half-daze.

"Yeah?" you make sure, still catching your breath.

"Yeah," he confirms. "Anything for you. Of course."

#shane x reader #shane x farmer #stardew shane #sdv shane #stardew valley x reader #stardew valley shane #stardew valley #sdv

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the-insomniac-emporium · 3 years

Text

RE8 Ladies + S/o with chronic pain HCs

Type/cause of chronic pain is kept ambiguous, but some of the hcs might seem geared towards migraines, since that's the main thing that I personally struggle with (and these are very definitely comfort hcs). Features Alcina, Bela, Cassandra, Daniela, Donna, Mother Miranda, and as a 'lil bonus Ava. Not particularly long, but the combined length of every character is enough to be put under a read-more (About 2,500 words in total).

Alcina:

It’s difficult for her to know that you are suffering, but be unable to deal directly with the source of the problem. Chasing off unwanted nuisances or hunting down threats to the castle was one thing, trying to solve complicated medical issues was another thing entirely. If only she could tear your condition asunder without tearing you asunder.

That being said, she’ll still support you endlessly, however she can. It doesn’t matter how expensive or hard-to-access possible treatments are. If there’s something you haven’t tried, and are interested in trying, she’ll find a way for you to get it.

The biggest, and arguably most helpful, thing that she does is set up a space for you within her office. She spends quite a lot of time there for her family’s business, but doesn’t want to leave you alone on bad days. So this was her idea of a nice compromise.

There’s a very comfortable sofa that folds out, a cabinet filled with the softest blankets, and several pillows of a few different sizes. Servants are instructed not to interrupt Alcina’s work without good reason, but she has a couple who ensure your snack cabinet is always well stocked.

If there are certain environmental factors to your condition, such as sensitivity to light and sound, she does her best to reduce their effects. Lights remain dimmed (or she’ll rely on candlelight), her music will be kept quiet enough to be soothing, and she’ll refrain from taking any calls while you are with her.

Bela:

To think that Daniela once tried to claim that Bela would “never need to know any of that (medical) stuff”! Sure, there haven’t been many people who have needed (and received) treatment from her, but that didn’t mean the skill was useless. Admittedly, she doesn’t know enough to replace one of your doctors, or try to create her own version of a cure, though no one really expected that much from her.

Still, she knows enough to help soothe your pain. Obviously there are different techniques for different kinds of pain, and she does research before trying anything specific. Bela’s also aware that you’ve been dealing with this for far longer than she has, meaning that you probably wouldn’t be pleased if she came in, acted like an expert, or assumed that you hadn’t really thought about the most popular remedies. So she’s tactful with how she approaches things, always checking if you’re familiar with a subject before she tries to explain anything.

Bela ends up surprising you with a lesser-known skill of hers: Massage. Studying anatomy has given her a decent idea of the body’s more sensitive spots, and the rest she’s figured out through her own, ahem, experiences. Regardless of where you’re in pain, your girlfriend can help reduce your suffering. Okay, well, if your pain is more internal than external, it’s a bit harder for her, but she can still help you relax.

One of her favorite things to do after giving you a massage is to just pull you in close for some cuddling. Preferably you’ll be in her lap, with her arms around your waist, her chin tucked on top of your shoulder. Then she’ll do her best to whisper you praises, reminding you how strong you are, and that she’s incredibly proud of you.

Cassandra:

She’s, uh, not great at this. At least not at first. Maybe she’ll never be more than good at it, though. But she’s definitely trying! And learning! By Jove, that’s something, right?

First things first, she’s always ready to try to distract you, primarily through kisses and gentle touches. Fingers softly trailing over your skin, lips tickling your neck, featherlight in all the right places… It’s not inherently sexual (though it can quickly go that route if you ask), just intimate. It’s harder for your brain to process pain when you’re also processing pleasure, so there is some science behind Cassandra’s methods, even if she herself isn’t entirely aware of that.

While she’s not great with words, there are certain things that she manages to articulate well enough. For one, she makes sure you know that you aren’t a burden. Taking care of you- no, helping you take care of yourself- is a labor of love, if a labor at all. More than that, she knows full well that you probably don’t like feeling pitied, or coddled. That, over time, being sick ends up being beyond frustrating. She never wants you to feel like your condition defines you, or like it puts any strain on your relationship.

That said, she’ll avoid telling her family any specifics unless you do first, and ensures that the staff know how to accommodate you (without telling them why, because it’s none of their fucking business, and she’s their boss, and for fuck’s sake it’s their job to do what she tells them. Maybe she gets a lil bit overzealous with it). At no point will she ever complain about helping you, or otherwise indicate that your needs are “troublesome”.

At the end of the day, the best comfort she brings you is her presence, simply being near you, endlessly loyal, tireless in her affections. Especially considering she gets clingier the worse your symptoms get.

Daniela:

Hope you enjoy cuddling. Seriously. There’s nothing Daniela loves more than curling up with you, and that goes double for bad pain days. Some adjustments will be made position-wise if you need, but she’ll still hold you as close as possible, for as long as you need. Although she might eventually fall asleep (because damn are you comfy), she’ll play with your hair or run her fingers along your scalp until she eventually dozes off.

If you want a little more from her than light snoring, or if she feels like going above and beyond, or honestly just if she’s thinking about how much she loves you (so all the effing time), she’ll do something she’s always loved in movies/books: Reading to you! She’ll pick special books that neither of you have read before, so you can experience them together on your sick(er) days. Which does, of course, mean that it might take months to finish even a single one. Surprisingly, Daniela won’t even briefly consider reading any without you. Even if the plot is really good.

But, uh, if you wanted her to read to you on a day where you aren’t bedridden? Hell yes, my friend, she’s absolutely down for that!

On days where she’s too busy to spend hours upon hours in bed with you, or days where her ADHD is just particularly bad, she tries her best to leave you with a “substitute”. AKA a massive fucking teddy bear, in a reddish brown color, with a green bowtie. Custom ordered (The Duke did not dare tease her for it). There’s a heart stitched onto the stuffed animal’s chest, which features your first initial alongside a D for Daniela.

Additionally, she has a blanket she only brings out for you, which she periodically sprays with her favorite perfume. That way you can hold it close when she’s not around, as if you were cuddling her. For her sake, though, don’t hold the teddy bear or blanket too tightly when she is around. Homegirl here will get jealous of inanimate objects, even ones that she gave you.

Donna:

“I think I have a tea for this…” Damn right she has a tea for this. Donna has a massive garden, with dozens if not hundreds of different plants, including a variety of herbs/spices. At least one of them has to be a little helpful for you. Whether it relieves pain, helps you nap off some of your misery, or just distracts you by tasting bloody-well delicious! Besides, few things make you feel quite as loved as holding a cup of freshly brewed tea in your hands, knowing your lover made it just for you. Like a hug in a mug, it is!

Similarly to Alcina, Donna will also try to create a comfortable space for you, but isn’t likely to put it downstairs with her workshop. Instead she’ll let you take over one of the larger guest rooms, customizing it to suit your specific needs. There will be some easy to care for plants for decoration (ones that won’t mind potentially missing out on natural sunlight), a couple relaxing paintings, and a shelf near the bed with things to help you pass the time, mainly books.

Furthermore, she’ll do her best to keep you company as often as possible. She’s naturally a fairly quiet person, so you won’t have to worry about sound if that’s something you’re sensitive to. While she prefers using a sewing machine, she’ll do things by hand while you’re in pain, just to reduce the chances of you getting irritated by the sound.

Speaking of potentially irritating sounds… by god can Angie be difficult to be around when you’re ill. Thankfully, Donna is perfectly understanding of this, and, as the only person Angie ever listens to, makes sure to give the doll a stern talking to about your health. To your immense surprise, it actually works. You’re not exactly sure what was said, but Angie certainly becomes a lot more compensating afterwards. She’ll keep her antics to herself, and usually even on another side of the house from where you rest, but only for as long as you’re tucked away in your room. As soon as you set foot outside, her restraints are metaphorically removed. All hell breaks loose (as is her universe-given right as the physical embodiment of both Chaos and Entropy).

Mother Miranda:

If the two of you weren’t lovers, there’s a decent chance you would completely misinterpret her actions. She might come off as irritated, like she has bigger concerns than your health, you fragile little human. After all, she is a goddess (well, practically). But the truth is that she’s aching inside every time you have a bad pain day, knowing that (for once) she cannot cure your ailment. Maybe if she had infinite subjects with the same condition as you…

But, at the end of the day, that’s the problem. There’s only one of you. One of her beloved, her little human darling, so dangerously fragile in comparison to the scale she works on. Even with all the time in the world, which she most certainly has, she cannot cure you without taking incredible risks. With your life at stake… It is a gamble she refuses to take. You are hers, and while she hates to see you suffer, the truth is that she’ll always be selfish enough to let you endure on your own.

That doesn’t mean she doesn’t help, though, just that she doesn't do a full-out experiment on you. Instead, she keeps notes. She’ll track your activities, bedtimes/when you get up, dietary habits, when you have pain, what you do to treat said pain, how effective the treatments are, etc, etc. All of this can be very useful in establishing patterns (a skill she’s gotten very good at, in her many decades of being a scientist), which can in turn lead to less pain days.

(For example, many people with migraines find that certain foods seem to trigger a migraine, or at least increase the chances of getting one. Though admittedly they don’t always end up cutting the food out of their diet. I mean, come on, you want me to give up chocolate? You want me to drink normal milk, like an adult? Kidding, kidding, I don’t have any food triggers. Nor do I particularly enjoy chocolate milk, nor do I dislike it.)

Moving on! While her work seemingly takes precedence over your condition, Miranda is not heartless, and she does do some things to lend you more direct comfort. Specifically, she tries to work in the same room as you when she can, normally while making electronic copies of physical documents, or while looking over the details of a finished experiment. She’s not always one for cuddling, so she won’t often get in bed with you during the daytime. But at night? Yes, fine, she will wrap her arms around you, maybe one of her wings too if you like how soft they are.

Just don’t think that she secretly loves every second. It’s not like she’ll spend half an hour whispering about how sweet and adorable you are as soon as you fall asleep, or anything like that. It’s twenty minutes at the most.

Bonus!Avaskian Caldwell:

“Oh, fuckin’ mood!” Followed by a solid thirty seconds of pure regret. Seriously, though, Ava has spent xer entire life (starting at age 10) dealing with chronic migraines. For a while xe also dealt with POTS (Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome), which meant lots of chest pain, but that (thankfully) faded as xe grew into an adult, as is fairly common with the condition. If anyone in Castle Dimitrescu understands unrelenting, unexplainable pain, it’s xer.

That being said… Ava never really managed xer chronic pain, at least not when xe was at xer worst. Xe had to drop out of school because of it. Hell, xe didn’t have a “real” job until xe was almost 23! Didn’t have a chance until things just calmed down for xer. So xe gets anxious whenever you talk about your health, worried that things are (or will at some point be) as bad for you as they were for xer. Other than that, though, you might initially think that xe doesn’t care, or didn’t understand the conversation.

Truth is, xe knows how absolutely fucking ANNOYING it can be to have to explain your health to every new person you meet (like the dozen different doctors you’ve met over the years, possibly every nurse who takes your pulse and thinks it’s a little bit high). So xe did a shit ton of research on your condition, in order to reduce how much you need to explain. Sure, xe will still have questions, and there are always aspects that only you can tell xer, but it’s a nice gesture.

As for helping you destress, xe’s pretty much a mix of Bela and Miranda. You’ll get plenty of massages (because Ava has learned from personal experience what sort of touches help with which sorts of pain), but also some scientific insight on any noticeable patterns. Lots of holding you close and telling you that you’re the coolest person in the world, and that Ava feels beyond lucky to have you.

#alcina dimitrescu x reader #bela dimitrescu x reader #cassandra dimitrescu x reader #daniela dimitrescu x reader #donna beneviento x reader #mother miranda x reader #oc x reader #avaskian caldwell #j has ocs #re8 village #resident evil: village #hcs

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fandom-imagines-stories · 4 years

Text

Evermore

Simon Basset x Reader

Words: 2319

Summary: While residing in the same house, Simon and his wife could not be further apart. His resistance to love may cost him the only thing he holds dear while he can merely stand and watch it fade.

Notes: I love Simon waaaaaaay too much. I have been dying to write for him, so please please let me know what you think!

More period dramas: HERE

I never needed anybody in my life

I learned the truth too late

From this spot, he had a view of the entire garden. He watched as you strolled between the flowers, pausing occasionally to smell a particular bloom. You used to walk together, but now, he could hardly bear to even look at the gardens. Seeing you there sent a feeling through his heart that he could not rid himself of. It was better this way. The happiness that you had felt in your first few months of marriage was an illusion. Simon knew that he could never truly make you happy, no matter how badly he wanted to. Still, these days of silence ate at his soul.

You felt his gaze upon you before you spotted him in a second-story window. Looking up from the rose in your hand, you held his stare with your own, as if daring him to come out from behind his closed doors. This was the first time you’d seen your husband in two days and even when you had seen each other, it was in passing, shrouded in bitter quiet.

You looked away first, dropping your flower and storming back into the house with renewed frustration. From the corner of your eye, you could see him vanish from the window, probably to disappear into his office for yet another day of avoidance. Through your anger, your heart ached. He never explained his sudden hatred towards you. One night, he simply stopped speaking to you. When you confronted him, he’d shouted and shut himself away in his room. No word between you had been uttered since.

To fill your lonely hours, you walked the length of the house. Clyvedon was a beautiful estate and offered at least some distraction from your empty heart. This time, however, your usual path was interrupted.

“Your grace,” You greeted coolly. It was odd to see him in this part of the house, so far away from his usual fortress. He rarely left his office anymore. “I must say, I am surprised to see you away from your desk. You have been married to your work recently.” You put as much venom into your words as you could muster. For a moment, you thought you saw him flinch.

“Y/N, I understand you are uncomfortable with our current situation-”

“Uncomfortable?” You exclaimed furiously. “You think that I am uncomfortable? This is not an ill fitting dress or-or a pebble in my shoe. I saw you in that window and I couldn’t breathe. Even now, it feels like my heart is trying to leap out of my chest and give itself to you, for maybe that will finally be enough for you.” His eyes shifted to the window, desperately trying to escape your hateful stare.

“You are more than enough for me-”

“Then tell me, your Grace,” You spat, “why you can’t even bring yourself to look at me!” You had raised your voice beyond what was proper, but you didn’t care. You wanted him to see the anguish that this forced solitude was bringing you. “Explain to me how we can be making love one morning and by that afternoon, you can hardly utter a word to me. Look at me, Simon! For God’s sake just look at me.”

Whatever his reasoning for coming to you was lost to him now. He could only hear the anger and frustration in your voice. The hatred you must hold for him. While his eyes finally found yours, it felt as though he was looking past you.

“I presume you will be eating in your quarters again.” Was all he said. The return of his indifference was the final straw for you. Having had enough, you charged off to find the furthest place in the house away from him. Simon watched you go in quiet agony, cursing himself for being unable to shut out his affection for you. He told himself again that this was how it must be. If only that was enough.

Wasting in my lonely tower

Waiting by an open door

He wasn’t sure how late it was, but his eyes were starting to burn from staring at documents all night. He could hardly keep them open. Setting his work aside, he ran a hand down his face, trying to rub the exhaustion from his eyes, and slowly dimmed his lamp until the light was gone. When he looked up, he found you standing in the doorway, shrouded in shadow. If he didn’t know better, he’d say you looked like a spirit in your white nightgown and tear stained face.

“Why are you not in bed?” He questioned, only half awake himself.

“I came to…” The words caught in your throat, making them sound garbled and broken. You stepped into the moonlight and composed yourself. “I came to say goodbye.” Simon froze.

“What?”

“I have arranged for a carriage to take me back to London at dawn.” You stared blankly at him, your face sunken and despaired. He hadn’t realized the depths of the misery he had caused you until now. “My presence is clearly unwanted and I feel that we may live our lives more peacefully apart.”

“I see you’ve already made up your mind on the matter.” Simon scoffed, the pain your words inflicted fueling anger. You didn’t reply. Instead, you turned and started back down the dark hallway to your quarters. He caught your arm before you got too far. “You cannot just leave.”

“I see no reason to stay, your grace.”

“You are my wife.” He growled. Finally, your sullen exterior broke away to reveal the anger burning inside of your chest, threatening to swallow you.

“Am I?” You jerked your arm away, stumbling backwards in the dark. “Because these past few days I’ve felt like a stranger, wandering these beautiful halls, looking for something in them to keep me here. There is nothing but emptiness and grief and pain and I cannot-”

He placed a hand on your cheek, your words halting on your tongue. You stepped closer into his touch, a touch that you had been aching to feel for days. Simon dipped his head down, bringing your lips slowly to his own.

His movements were fast and urgent, his lips moving against yours like he depended on you for breath. You felt the familiar feeling rush over you. It was the intense feeling you’d felt so many times at the beginning of your marriage, one you had feared you’d never feel again. But it wasn’t enough.

“Simon, wait.” You pushed back, trying to find anything in his eyes that could explain to you why he’d been acting so distant. “Talk to me, my love.”

He tried. He wanted so desperately to be able to share with you his fears, but every time he opened his mouth he felt like that stuttering little boy again. Your gaze pleaded with him.

“Please, say something.” Still no response. You pulled out of his grasp forcefully, that feeling fleeing just as quickly as it had come. “Tomorrow, I am leaving for London. At least there I will not be reminded how little I must mean to you.”

You gave him no chance to reply, vanishing into the dark night while he furiously went back into his office, knocking almost every paper off his desk. Simon craved to follow you back to your quarters and show you what you really meant to him, but his feelings didn’t matter. You were miserable and it was his doing.

Still, the idea of being away from you, the feeling of abandonment sunk into him like sharp claws. It was dark and grim and kept him awake, pacing back and forth in the confines of his office. That night, he did not get a moment’s rest.

I let her steal into my melancholy heart

It’s more than I can bear

Days passed, each one quieter and darker than the last. You were gone. He had watched your carriage leave from his window, solemn and alone. Each day he waited. He waited to hear the rattling of the carriage, the pounding of the horse��s hooves. He left the door to his office open as if he expected you to walk in like nothing had happened. In fact, he hardly left his office at all in hopes that his waiting would conjure you somehow.

It was the fifth day of your absences when he received the letter. Lady Danbury started by inquiring as to why his wife was in London unaccompanied, but it was the end of the letter that sent an icy fear through his blood. You had fallen ill and had doctors in and out of the house for the last two days. While she did not know the severity of your illness she had heard that you had been bed ridden and unable to take any visitors. She feared the worst.

Simon didn’t waste a second readying his horse and taking off towards the city. It didn’t matter how many hours the ride took, he went on without stopping. His horse sped through the city, having little care for the foot traffic around him. Hastings house stretched ominously over him, adding to the dread filling his chest. He didn’t wait for a servant to open the door, he didn’t wait to be shown to your room. He ran through the halls like a mad man only to find your quarters empty.

“Your Grace?” Your lady's maid gasped, nearly dropping the bundle of fabrics she was carrying. “I-I thought you were staying in-”

“Where is she?” He barked, making her jump. He didn’t mean to frighten the poor girl, but he did not have the patients for explanation.

“S-she’s having tea with Lady Danbury in the drawing room.” The girl squeaked. His confusion was quickly replaced by rage and he stormed into the drawing room, Lady’s Danbury’s letter crumpled in his fist. Your eyes widened at the sight of your husband, sweating and disheveled.

“Simon, what are you-”

“Your Grace, how wonderful for you to join us.” Lady Danbury smiled triumphantly.

“Is this meant to be some kind of cruel joke to you?” He snapped viciously. You’d never seen him this way before and, frankly, it frightened you. Lady Danbury didn’t seem phased. “My life is not a game for you to meddle in!”

“Someone had to show you how much you stand to lose, your Grace.” She said, keeping incredibly calm under the circumstances.

“How dare you.” Simon was seething. “You wretched woman-”

“Simon!” You exclaimed, jumping up from your seat. “A word, your Grace.” You opened the door to the garden and waited outside for him to join you.

“I think it’s time for you to leave.” Simon glared. Lady Danbury stood and walked past him with enviable elegance.

“Don’t lose her, your Grace. Not when she’s finally made you believe in love.” She left without further comment.

Simon finally walked out and you resisted the urge to slap him. Your fists were balled at your sides and you were walking furiously back and forth on the path.

“How dare you come here and speak to my guest in such a manner.” You wanted to scream and cry and kiss him all at once. “What on earth are you doing here, anyway?”

“Lady Danbury sent me a lie in order to get me to come here.” He finally let the exhaustion of his ride rush over him and he leaned against the wall.

“And what lie could have been so great to get you to leave your office?” You scoffed. Simon’s face softened.

“She said that you were ill.” He said quietly, his voice betraying the truth. For those few hours before he arrived were the most terrifying he’d ever experienced. “I thought that… I was afraid I would lose you.”

“You haven’t seemed that concerned these past weeks.” You muttered in irritation. Simon’s face fell.

“Do you really believe that?” He asked with such pain in his voice it nearly broke your heart. “That I am not concerned for your well being? That I do not care if you are hurt or-or sick?”

“What else am I to believe, Simon?” You said, exasperated and exhausted with his constantly shifting moods towards you. “You avoid me at all costs when I am with you, you have suspended any affection towards me, and now you tell me that you came all this way because you thought I was ill? I don’t understand you, your grace, I truly don’t.”

“Everything I have done has been for your benefit.” He stepped towards you. “My affection towards you runs deeper than I could possibly explain and that is why I cannot condemn you to a life cast into my darkness.” His eyes did not look through you now. Rather, they pierced down to your very soul. You stood in shock, trying to find the right words to convey your true feelings.

“Simon…” You gasped, laying a hand on his chest to feel his racing heartbeat. “You are not a shadow. You are the moon. Yes, you have darkness. Yes there are parts of you that I do not yet understand, but that does not mean I do not wish to know you. You are the guiding light in my darkest nights. You are my husband and I love you.”

You wrapped your arms around him and brought his lips to yours. It was like your first kiss, hesitant at first, but soon evolved with passion and need. Simon cupped your face in his hands and vowed.

“I will not hide my love from you again. I will cherish you the way you are meant to be. And I will remind you how dear you are to me every moment I can.” He brushed a joyous tear from your cheek. “For evermore.”

General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination; @mylovegoesto; @yellowbadgergirl; @itmejado; @suckmyapplejacks

#regé jean page #simon basset x reader #simon basset #Bridgerton #bridgerton imagines #period dramas #evermore

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tavernfest · 2 years

Text

TavernFest Monthly Round-Up!

Check out these fabulous submissions that we received in April!

FANFICTION

Title: I’d Be Lost Without You Creator: @tehfanglyfish Rating: Teen Length: 3250 words Pairing(s): Merlin/Arthur Warning(s): No Archive Warnings Apply Round: 7 (Luck, Fate, Destiny) Summary: It was bad enough that Arthur’s accidental discovery of Merlin’s magic caused Merlin to transform into an old man, worse still that he seemed to think he’d failed Arthur. Fortunately, Arthur finds a way to convince Merlin otherwise. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/38533723

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Title: Surprise Creator: @arien-elensar Rating: G/K Length: 370 words Pairing(s): Arthur/Gwen/Merlin, Arthur/Merlin Warning(s): none Round: 2 (Love Languages) Summary: Where had her two idiot boys gone off to? Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/38650491

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Title: Bad Choice of Words in My Alibi Creator: @queerofthedagger Rating: Mature Length/Medium: 22,200 Pairing(s): Merlin/Arthur Pendragon Warning(s): None Round: 7 (Luck, Fate, Destiny) Summary:

“I never believed that you would betray me,” Arthur says, because Merlin knows him, even if the same might not be true the other way around. Merlin could tell when he was lying, when he was lashing out to protect himself, long before a bond tore down all the defences Arthur so carefully erected around himself. “Do not pretend that you ever believed me capable of truly hating you. I could not, no matter how much I may want to.” The way Merlin’s face twists reveals that there is another story there, and words echo within Arthur’s head, guttural and ancient—a half cannot truly hate that which makes it whole. He wants to laugh at the truth of it, at the absurdity of it all. Here they are, a prince and a servant, Uther Pendragon’s son and one of the most powerful sorcerers to ever walk the earth—caught up in a fight over who possesses more devotion, who is going to ruin himself for the other’s sake first.

One hot summer day and an ill-advised kiss leave Arthur with an incomplete soul bond, panic about all his secrets coming to light, and the question of why Merlin is so afraid of Uther. Actually, scratch that—why is Merlin afraid of him? Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/38710893/chapters/96788610

#bbc merlin #merlin fanfic #merlin #merthur #merthur fanfic #tavernfest

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ddarker-dreams · 4 years

Text

Eternal Binding. Yan Zhongli x Reader

Warnings: Unhealthy yandere themes and non major character death, spoilers for Zhongli’s identity I think ?? Word count: 1.2k.

Liyue, as it is now, feels different than how you remember it growing up.

It started with little things. Popular trends rose and fell at breakneck speed, the second you finally felt caught up, the people of Liyue had moved onto the next eye-catching phenomenon.

Imperceivable grievances upon first glance, that once pointed out, you would fixate on like a man possessed. He had warned of this fate that awaited you, yet you chose to carry out your days in ignorance. That maybe you’d somehow be immune to the pain brought by time moving on with or without you.

A dear friend from childhood, Nian Zhen, had made an offhanded comment about how her body had seen better days. The rest of your companions murmured in solemn agreement and added on their complaints. They bemoaned the wrinkles that formed underneath their eyes and how their bodies had begun to ache after a day’s full of work. All the while, you sat there and silently drank your tea. You had belonged to the same age group as them, yet experienced none of the plights they did.

At that time, Nian Zhen had turned to you and posed a question that pierced your being with frigid dread.

“[First], you look as young as ever. What’s your secret?” She had teased, to which you skillfully dodged the question. The conversation went from there, but you no longer followed it. They’re right, you thought. No grey hairs, aching bones, or wrinkles. It’s impossible to hide any longer.

What your Archon warned you about decades ago had finally reared its ugly head.

You still remember her funeral in great detail, the proceedings lasted days and were fulfilled to Liyue’s custom. She had died of old age in bed, surrounded by her children and grandchildren. Her eldest son, who had commemorated the ceremony, opened with a line you often think back to.

“My mother lived a long, fulfilling life.”

That she did. When the two of you were children, you used to sneak out at night to play near the harbor. As teenagers, she’d lend at your parent’s farm if they felt ill, the burden shared between you both. Then came being a young adult and the news of Nian Zhen’s betrothal to a local fisherman, which you enthused over. After that, it was nothing but a blur. Her first child, second, third, fourth. They grew up and created families of their own.

All this, while you hadn’t aged a day.

Rex Lapis stands by your side near the overarching mountains, watching the completion of the proceedings in silence. The skies are unusually overcast, muted colors of grey and occasional dark blues mixing above. Now begins the mourning period, in accordance with Liyue tradition. Nian Zhen’s offspring, that now look to be the same age as you in terms of physical appearance, are nowhere to be seen.

He snaps you from your thoughts by placing a hand on your shoulder.

“How are you feeling?” Rex Lapis -- or Zhongli, as he prefers you call him in private -- inquires. His touch is unwelcome as he is, yet you don’t have the energy to protest.

“About as well as you could expect,” comes your response, bitter and scathing. “Why are you still here, anyway?”

Zhongli straightens his posture, fiddling with the cuffs of his outfit. “I feel it is my duty as your husband to comfort you.”

This earns a sardonic laugh, the smile on your face ingenuine to match. Once, you would’ve considered yelling curses at him until he left you alone, but now you’re faced with a crueler reality. A reality that Zhongli is the only person who can fully understand what it’s like to share this curse disguised misleadingly as a blessing.

Immortality.

“I’ll be honest. I’m not feeling too comforted right now, or whatever it is you claim to be doing.” You refute, chest feeling paradoxically heavy and light with nothingness. The first one is always the most difficult, is what he told you back then, in reference to watching your mortal friends wither away due to age. Now comes the question of who’s next. Will it be your former neighbor, the blacksmith? Perhaps your old tutor who recently celebrated a century of life? There’s no way to know for certain. What you do know is that if it’s going to cut this deep, maybe you should’ve rejected his offer all those years ago.

Grass rustles to the left of you, dry leaves crunching and twigs snapping, as Zhongli sits by your side.

“Tell me how to do it properly, then. I’ll learn if it’s for your sake.” Zhongli implores, bewitching amber eyes drawing you into their thrall. The way he looks at you, waiting patiently on your every word as if you held the secrets of the universe, no longer comes as a surprise. Though you might be used to this display, it still manages to unnerve you. The awe-inspiring fact that you’re conversing with a god, the god that you grew up worshipping in deep reverence, still causes your tongue to momentarily forget its function.

You clear your throat and play with a strand of your hair. “Well, I suppose… there is one question I’ve long wanted to ask of you.”

He blinks, the confession unexpected, but manages to revert his visage to its typical look of composure. Zhongli nods his head as if it wordlessly urge you to continue. Sucking in a deep breath, you do just that.

“Why… why did you choose me? With your contract, I mean. Surely, there are more special members of Liyue that you could’ve saved, people that would fit the role of an adepti.”

Zhongli ponders over your question. The silence is torture, not to mention unusual, since you’ve gotten used to him speaking at great length over any subject. Pottery, the history of paper, traditions native to northern Liyue regions; anything and everything he could speak about for hours if you allowed. Now, he’s unable to offer even a single word. You shift uncomfortably in your seat and frown.

After some time passes, his lips part.

“It doesn’t come from any logical place,” Zhongli admits, much to your bewilderment, your head snapping to look at his perplexed face. “I believe it’s referred to as intuition. Yes, that sounds correct. I felt that you would understand me.”

He holds your gaze, unblinking. “So, I decided to have you by my side for all of eternity.”

That’s right. The contract you formed on that fateful day said as much. How it so seamlessly flows from his lips is a mystery to you, the declaration sending a fresh wave of shivers and dread down your spine. This is your fate -- you remind yourself -- and the Geo Archon will never allow a person to violate the terms of a contract.

Not even if it’s you.

While Liyue and its surrounding regions are fluid and ever-changing as a rushing stream, Zhongli remains the same as you’ve always known him to be. God of Contracts, Commerce, War, and finally,

Your eternal damnation.

#zhongli #zhongli x reader #yandere zhongli x reader #zhongli genshin impact #yandere zhongli #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin impact #genshin impact imagine #yandere #yandere x reader #my stuff

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lotrthobbit · 3 years

Text

Woodland Princess

Part 2

The other parts of the story can be found on the hashtag #WoodlandPrincessLegolasFanfic

I do not own the gifs. The drawing is created by me

Enemies to Lovers

Legolas x reader

As previously stated: for the sake of this story, I have created a new kingdom which the location is up to the reader and I have also created my own character which happens to be one of your guards.

LADIES AND GENTLEMEN AND MY NON BINARY FRIENDS, I present to you, HIM

I drew how Augustus is supposed to look like. And the white markings are common in the Mystic.

………..Now continuing………

(Y/n ) pov

Augustus had helped me feel better by training with me in combat. He always knew how to make me feel better. It was night time and we proceeded to make our way back to the palace to see the guards whispering amongst themselves.

“What has you gossiping so loudly ?!” I said placing both hands on my hips

“PRINCESS !” They yelled in fear and bowed,” guys come on share whatever juicy Intel you have.” I replied.

One the guards began to whisper,” the Prince of Mirkwood tried to challenge one of our lower ranked guards, despite him being the best archer of Mirkwood, he fell to the ground in his arse in a flat second “ they all began to laugh.

I am ashamed to say that I did too.

“And what are you all laughing at ?!” Yelled a voice. We all turned to see Legolas standing at the entrance with a scowl.

The guards immediately went back to their position and stayed quiet while Augustus and I tried to compose ourselves from laughing.

I walked past him purposely shoving his shoulder. I could feel his eyes on me as I walked away and heard him say,” filthy”.

Once I entered my chambers I see that the maids have prepared a bath which I thanked them and they made their way out. I began to get into the bath smelling sweet vanilla and lavender. I wet my (hair length and color) and let out a sigh of relief. Despite letting my anger out during training I felt all the events begin to cloud my mind.

I was still questioning my father’s motives. If I marry Mirkwood’s puney Prince, I would have to leave Mystic, meaning leaving mom and leaving father, leaving my people.

I then heard a knock at the door. It was one of the maids,” My princess here is your evening dress for the dinner. “ I smiled and thanked her.

I looked at the dress, it was a beautiful lavender dress with a corset top and long sleeves that hung off my shoulders. Instead of putting on heels I simply put on my boots. They were hidden under my dress and I remember Augustus once saying it’s always good to be ready in case of an ambush.

I began to make my way through the halls. The light from the moon peeked through the many windows. It was simply a breathtaking view. As I made my way to the dining hall, I see my father, Prince Legolas, and King Thranduil, I did not see the guards or any of the maids.

In my kingdom we all dine together regardless of status. But seeing their absence made my stomach drop. Are they eating outside ?

“Ah- my beautiful daughter !” I cringed seeing both the King and Prince look at me with wide eyes.

As I walked to my seat, Augustus pulled it out and I sat down thanking him as he began to walk away I grabbed his wrist,” are you not dining with us ?” He simply bowed and said,” no princess. “ and walked away.

What’s with the bowing ?

My father looked at me with a stern look as Legolas and the King both raised their eyebrows.

Augustus was like a best friend to me. Since we were children we trained with one another.

“ you seem to be popular amongst your men here. “ chuckled Legolas, with a venomous tone. Which his father proceeded to yell,” Do not speak so I’ll towards your wife to be ! Respect her !”

I then smirked hearing King Thranduil argue in my sake.

“Well, let’s not fight instead let us enjoy this fine feast our maids have created for us. “ smiled my father. He looked rather ill today. I placed a hand on his knuckle and asked him if he was alright to which he nodded and smiled at me but for some reason I had a feeling that he was lying.

I looked up only to see Legolas looking at me, not with a smirk but with a look of sympathy. What’s going on ?

We proceeded to eat a little bit of everything. It was a delicious meal. I then proceeded to bring up the taboo subject

“When and why am I bethroed to Prince Legolas ?” My father and the King stopped eating then looked at one another then proceeded to explain.

My father began to say,” I am dying,” he paused to which I felt my eyes beginning to brim with tears,” I need to know that Mystic will be safe after I depart, and in order to keep the treaty alive both king Thranduil and I have agreed upon this since you were a young elf, if any of us had fallen ill or were to die we would let our children marry one another thus either combining our kingdoms or having one rule one of them. “

“ isn’t Legolas supposed to take over Mirkwood ?” I asked. Still is disbelief as tears streamed down my face.

Thranduil began to speak,” That is a decision to make if I come to pass, Legolas and you would take over Mystic.”

I quickly stood up looking down clenching my fists,” Father- do you not trust me to take care of my own people ?! Why must Prince Legolas take over as king ?! He knows nothing of our customs nor of our fighting style !”

“(Y/N)!!!” My father yelled then proceeded to cough and almost faint as I grabbed him

“Father !” He closed his eyes and I called out to the guards who helped me escort him to his room and called for the physician.

Please be okay….

To be continued………

The other parts of the story can be found on the hashtag #WoodlandPrincessLegolasFanfic

#the hobbit #elves #elven #mirkwood #legolas #legolas greenleaf #lotr #thranduil #thranduil of mirkwood #thranduil oropherion #Woodland Princess Legolas Fan fic #Legolas x reader #legolas fanfic #legolas imagine #the hobbit fan fic

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high-functioning-lokipath · 3 years

Text

Marriage with a Spin - Loki x Reader - Words: 2,613

A/N: Enemies-ish to Relationship & Fake Relationship trope-ish LOL…Pic below is not mine but simply is for reference about rings...this was the best basis I could find 🤣 I'm using the Spin and Zero rings in this oneshot

Also! A big thanks for @ladylulu143 for helping my come up with a title and for proofreading this for me! 💖💖🤗🤗

"Alright, this is the latest alien artifact we have found," Steve said. He held up a gold ring with a small blue stone. "When on, the wearer can decelerate time around them, appearing to be at superspeed to those watching."

"So what's the deal now?" You asked. Tony brought a picture of another ring on the screen behind Cap.

"This recently popped up on our radar. By the readings we're getting from it, it seems to be related to this guy here. However, it's being held in this mansion," Tony said, clicking to the next picture. "Owned by billionaire Samuel Thatcher."

"So what am I doing here again?" Loki asked flippantly.

"Mr. Thatcher is holding a gala tomorrow night. You and Miss Y/L/N will be attending and will conveniently slip away at some point during the evening to retrieve the ring from his vault."

"Loki and me?" You exclaimed. "Why? Would you fit in much better at one of those swanky parties?"

"Everyone knows me, Y/N," Tony said, rolling his eyes.

"What about Steve then? He knows how to dance and be all proper! He's from the 40's for goodness sake!"

"Have you ever seen me try to fit in at one of those, how did you say it, swanky parties?" Steve asked with a smirk. "You two have enough class to fit in. Besides, the vault is secured by a fingerprint and retinal scan. The only person here who could pull that off is Loki."

"That is true," Loki replied with a smirk.

"Fine. What time is it?" You groan.

"6pm tomorrow," Steve answered. You nodded and got up to leave. "Oh! And one more thing!" You turned around suspiciously and saw an unnerving smile plastered across the face of America's Golden Boy. "You're going as Mr. & Mrs. Hank and Audrey Williams."

"Mister and Misses?" You both exclaimed. Steve nodded and Tony was smirking.

"Don't forget this!" Tony said, tossing the ring to you.

"Is this supposed to be my wedding ring?" You asked sarcastically.

"Actually no," Steve said. "It would seem that the ring only works on the right middle finger."

"Great. So what am I supposed to do about this?" You asked, wriggling your left fingers.

"No need to worry, darling," Loki replied. He waved his hand and a beautiful gold and emerald wedding band appeared on your finger. "Now, shall we go to my room and prepare for the rest of this delightful mission?" He asked, a touch of sarcasm in his voice.

"Of course, my dear," You replied, rolling your eyes.

The next day, Loki came to your room at about 3 in the afternoon. "What do you want, Loki?" You growled, quite annoyed that he was bothering your 'me-time'.

"Change into your uniform and meet me in my room in 5 minutes. We need to prepare." He turned to walk away but you grabbed his arm.

"Why? We should be resting before our mission tonight! I thought we already did all our planning yesterday!"

"Tactical, yes. But not practical." He once again turned away and started down the hallway. You groaned and ran after him.

"What do you mean practically? We get fancied up, we go, we get the ring, we leave. If we get in any sort of confrontation, we fight and then we leave! Simple!"

"What are you going to wear?"

"Well I can't show up in tactical so I have this old party dress. It's not perfect but it'll do I guess."

"No it will not. Where will you put your weapons? What if you need to run? Or fight?" Loki listed off his objections quickly and tutted at you. "No, no. That simply will not do."

"Well what do you suggest, oh great fashion god," You replied sarcastically. Loki rolled his eyes and waved his hand. "Oh my!" You gasped. He'd transformed your current outfit into a lovely floor length, emerald green dress. He even outfitted you with jewelry!

"And I can do the same with your-what did you call it? Tactical gear?"

"Ok, ok," you chuckled. "Thank you. I really appreciate it." You smiled genuinely and, for a moment, you thought he would return the sentiment. But he kept his disinterested demeanor and whooshed away the dress.

"I'll return it later when you're ready. You will need to do your own hair and makeup." You nodded and headed back to your room till the evening.

That night, you stood at your mirror adding the finishing touches to your mascara when suddenly there was noise beside you. Jumping in surprise, you accidentally smeared the mascara on your face. "Loki!" You exclaimed, seeing the mischievous prince standing in your room. "You scared me!"

"Well, I am naturally terrifying." You rolled your eyes and turned back to the mirror to fix your face.

"There! All done," You announced. "Well, with the exception of my dress and-" Before you could even finish he had cast his illusion upon your clothing.

"Enough with your blathering. Let's go."

"Hmph. And here I had hope you'd finally removed your head from your-"

Later at the Gala, Loki was being the perfect gentleman. Very suave and debonair. You were impressed. Of course you had to play your part too. You were smiling at his side, holding his arm. You both mingled for a while, trying to get a feel of the room, before he asked if you wished to dance. A bit surprised, you simply nodded. He whisked you out to the dance floor gracefully and pulled you close.

"The vault is downstairs. We need to find an excuse to slip out soon," He whispered to you.

"What if I pretend to be ill?" You offered.

"Someone would undoubtedly take you upstairs to one of the bedrooms to rest. That is the opposite of what we're trying to accomplish."

"But what if I'm afraid of heights?" You countered. He quirked an eyebrow at you and chuckled lowly.

"That is a terrible idea. Only you would think of it."

"I don't know whether to be insulted or flattered. And I think the problem is I have really fantastic bad ideas." He smirked and shook his head in disbelief.

"At least you own up to it," He teased. You grinned, unable to help yourself from staring at him. Though you were on a mission, he seemed so relaxed. This was definitely his element. "You're staring, my dear."

“You are very attractive. Therefore I will stare at you," You admitted. He blushed brightly and looked away but then his eyes lit up.

"I've got it!" He stepped back and led you off the dance floor towards the open bar. "Follow my lead," He hissed. "Would you get me a drink, sweet? You know what I like," He said, somewhat loudly.

"Of course, darling," You replied. When you returned with your drinks you noticed Loki was staring at a group of young women. They had noticed him too and were smiling back at him. "What are you looking at?" You asked innocently, handing him his glass.

"Oh nothing," He replied quickly, turning away. You made a point of following his previous line of sight and made eye-contact with the still giggling females.

"Nothing?" You yelled. "You call that nothing? You were flirting again! Staring at some other woman!"

"I find them very attractive. Therefore I will stare at them," He replied. You held back a laugh, realizing what gave him the idea. "You know how I am," He purred, trying to move closer to you again.

"Get away from me!" You yelled, stepping back and throwing your glass on the floor. This drew everyone's attention. "You disgust me, Hank. This was your last chance and you botched it up! I'm going home!" You turned on your heel and stormed out.

"Audrey! Audrey! Please wait!" He called out. He ran after you into the grand hallway where you were pretending to be searching for your keys. You both noticed the small collection of men, including Mr. Thatcher, who were watching you from the ballroom doors. "Please, darling, can't we discuss this?"

"At home," You finally said. He nodded and held the front door for you. You both stepped outside, out of view, and then you activated the ring. It felt weird, time slowing around you, but you moved past your surprise and got to work. You ran back into the ballroom and very carefully chipped a very important supporting piece of one of the ice sculptures on the table. Giving it a small tap, you then ran back out to the main entrance and positioned yourself just outside the doors where you could still have a view of the main hallway. You deactivated the ring and heard the crash of the ice. Immediately, the men looking into the hallway ran back in, leaving the hallway unwatched. You and Loki were now free to sneak back into the mansion.

"The vault is downstairs but only accessed here," Loki murmured, leading you to a hidden staircase.

"Typical," You chucked, only mildly surprised by the motif. When you got down there, you noticed there were three levels of security. A key, a fingerprint scanner, and a retinal scanner. "Oh great! How are we supposed to get through that?"

"Never fear, my darling," Loki replied with a smirk. "Remember why they chose me?" He then changed, taking on the appearance of the party's host, Mr. Thatcher. He quickly got past the fingerprint and retinal scan but the key was still needed. Changing back to himself, he said, "The guards have keys."

"There are guards down here?" You whisper-yelled. Loki rolled his eyes frustratedly but before he could reply you heard footsteps coming down the hall.

"Follow my lead!" Loki demanded.

"Wha-" Loki interrupted you with a kiss and pushed you against the wall. You gasped in surprise but you had to admit to yourself he was talented.

"What are you doing down here?" The guard exclaimed. Loki slowly pulled away from you with the guiltiest expression on his face. You knew it was fake of course, but the guard was tricked.

"Were we not to be here?" He asked, voice slightly higher than usual. "We were only trying to find a-" He paused, smirking slightly. "A more private location." The guard shook his head and chuckled.

"Whatever floats your boat, man," He replied. "But I would suggest exploring the upstairs bedrooms." He gave them both a little wave and headed back around the corner.

"I’m going to strangle you," You said as soon as the guard was out of earshot.

"Oh please! You can’t even reach my neck," Loki replied. You grabbed his tie and pulled him down, pretending to be moving for another kiss. However, you tapped his neck lightly and smirked.

"Gotcha!" You giggled quietly and then held out your hand. "Oh! And look what I got!" She held up the key ring for the door. "While you were busy embarrassing yourself, I used my telekinesis and got the key!"

"Of course you did! That was my plan all along," Loki replied.

"Pretending to love you is like a walk in the park. Jurassic Park," You grumbled. Loki grabbed your sides and growled in your ear as you opened the vault door. "You're so weird!" You hissed, walking in and trying to find the ring.

"And you’re so weird it’s attractive," He retorted, finding the box immediately and tossing it to you.

"Well, if I’m weird with you, I’m comfortable," You admitted. Loki looked at you in surprise but you just shrugged. "Look, you really piss me off sometimes, but," you paused. "Somehow I still like you."

"And I you, my dear," He replied. "Now as much as I would love to continue this discussion I do suggest you figure out how to use that thing and we get out of here!" You put on the ring, trying it on a few different fingers before you found the correct one.

"Ok, let's see what it does." When you activated it, it shot a cold blast at the shelf in front of you, encasing it in ice. "Cool!" You joked. Loki shook his head and grabbed your arm, trying to hurry out. Just as you got to the top of the stairs, you heard footsteps.

"Well well well," Mr. Thatcher growled, blocking your exit. A few of his goons stood behind him as well. "Mr. & Mrs. Williams was it? I don't think so," he sneered.

"Well, I don't think so either but we're not doing this today!" You shot them all with the ice and Loki shoved them out of the way. You both heard more footsteps down the hallway and looked at each other nervously. "Do you trust me?" You asked. Loki nodded.

"With my life." You gave him a tight smile and activated the Spin ring. You ran down the hallway and found where the other goons were at. You tried to use the Zero ring, with the ice powers, but found yourself unable to control it's aim.

"Well that's fantastic," you grianed. Rethinking your plan, you went back to get Loki. There was no way you'd both be able to get out of there at normal speed so you had one option. Lug Loki out yourself at super-speed.

"What the heck? Do you weigh 500 pounds or something?" You groaned when you couldn't pull or carry him. "Ok, last option. I hope this works," You muttered. You focused almost all your energy on moving Loki using your telekinesis. It was slow going, but at super-speed, you still would beat the bad guys. By the time you got him out the door to safety, you were exhausted. You immediately disengaged the ring and he looked around confused.

"How did I get here?"

"Talk later, run now," You gasped, trying to stop the dizziness that had overtaken you.

"Are you alright?" He asked worriedly. You were about to reply when you collapsed, simply too drained to continue.

When you woke up, you felt a cool cloth on your forehead and soft blankets around you. "Where am I?" You groaned.

"I brought you back to the tower. I told the Captain his debriefing could wait," Loki replied. You sat up slowly and looked around. Raising an eyebrow, you stared at Loki questioningly. "Yes, this is my room. I wanted to keep an eye on you while you recovered. I informed the Captain that those rings are very dangerous and should not be used. They obviously were too much for you to handle and-"

"It wasn't the rings," You interrupted. You looked away, somewhat embarrassed. "Well, I was still in super-speed, but I used my telekinesis to get you out. We probably would have been shot otherwise. It used a lot of my energy but it was worth it."

"Oh darling," Loki sighed, gently pushing a stand of hair off your face. "You-" He leaned forward, giving you a quick kiss on your forehead. "You're amazing. I never expected you or anyone to care so much for me!"

"Of course I care!" You replied. "Look, you still drive me insane with some of your tricks. But you're a good guy," You smiled.

"And you're a wonderful woman," He said. You grinned at him happily, still tired but already feeling much better. "So what do you think, should we give us a try?"

"Why not? It may be the first really fantastic bad idea of mine that works out!" Loki smiled and gave you a kiss. You sighed contentedly and leaned on his shoulder when you pulled away.

"Oh darling? One more thing. It was my idea."

Loki Taglist

@lucywrites02

@delightfulheartdream

@serpentargo

@khena

@nyx2021

@kaz11283

@weasley-main-lover

@up-to-mischief

@lokislittlesigyn

@darkacademicfrom2021

Marvel (all characters) Taglist

@bartv21

@another-crazy-fangirl

@whatafuckingdumbass

@ladylulu143

#loki #loki x reader #loki oneshot #loki imagine #loki fanfic #mcu fic #marvel #avengers #tom hiddleston #at first I was perpetually bothered by your mere existence #but somewhere along the way you became my best friend #and oh yeah I’m also in love with you #this trope brought to you by a recent post i saw #and i added those tags #🤣

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