#✦. visage. — dress me up and watch me die !

[out-of-heaven-and-hell]

Leviathan tag dump

[laurorne]

༊*·˚ CRAVING YOUR WARMTH | aegon ii targaryen x targaryen bastard sister!reader

summary: two dragons who seek to move closer for warmth during their grief must remain apart, as they can only hurt one another with their sharp teeth and barely contained flames. though they both share the intentions of a close relationship, they're unable, for reasons they cannot avoid.

content: targaryen incest, angst, allusion of self-mutilation/harm, bastardphobia in westeros, night after intimacy suggested, self-hatred, blood, wonky metaphors and personification, no beta we die like vizzy t, badly written angst, that damn necklace

word count: 1.5k

a/n: let me tell you that i struggle writing angst, but god do i love reading it. i'm like my own self entertaining paradoxical concept and it astounds me

A gentle hand smoothing over his back is what stirs him from the throes of sleep, nails skating along his marked skin softly enough to tickle. He shifts as the hand moves from the expanse of his back up to his hair, rubbing circles into the crown of his head. Twirling bits of hair between deft fingers as she presses a kiss to the slope of his shoulder.

He hums, limbs stretching out clumsily as he rolls onto his side, fingers weak as his hand dances along the goose-down duvet until it reaches her. Her, and her softness, and her warmth.

“Wife.” He’s barely awake, even with the exasperated sigh that comes from his older sister.

“We are not wed, Aegon.” A gentle reminder from soft lips, her eyes taking in his tired demeanour, the curve of his brow.

She brushes the strand of choppy hair from his face, thumb dragging along the apple of his cheek.

He doesn’t speak for a moment, lids finally fluttering open as he stares up at her with those watery eyes. The ones he knew made her weak to suggestion. He lets his hand creep up her calf –where he can still feel the divets of scars from their childhood running through the gardens– until it finds home on the hand she has in her lap, he threads his fingers with hers. The number of rings adorning her fingers was thanks to him: he and his obsession with keeping his older sister glamoured. 

Imported Dornish rings that gleamed with the heat of the sun, Essosi ornate cloth and dresses that were far from the modesty of Court, hair pins adorned with pearls from the Summer Isles, and an intricate necklace crafted from the smelted metal of a Valyrian sword, inlaid with gemstones he had pulled from the Red Keeps vaults.

She was wearing it now, the stones gleaming under the sun that spotted through the lace curtains of her room. The engraved details scatter the few beams of light they catch like dew drops upon spider silk. The stones dangle between the valley her breasts create, the smallest of them twirls some intricate dance as she shifts. Like molten silver, it fits her without any of the stiffness metal should have. 

“We should be.” He glances down at his hand intertwined with hers and watches her thumb rub over his —in the way she always has ever since childhood— it makes him all the more rueful.

He’s hopeful, far beyond it. His bones ache and his head throbs from a swelling hangover, and he feels his throat ache something terrible at its use. His eyes trail from their hands to her face, he wants anything aside from sorrow to be there.

It’s worse. 

Her brows are furrowed as she stares down at him with pity, oh how he wishes it wasn’t pity.

“Oh, sweet boy.” She pulls her hand from his grasp and holds his face in her gentle hands with all the care he needs. “Some things, they just can’t be.”

His lip curls, a pathetic smile covering his visage as he cups the backs of her hands in his own. “But they could. Helaena would not care, she loathes our marriage. As do I. We could take Valyrian vows on Dragonstone. Just as our sister and uncle have. We could leave.”

“Aegon.” A wistful breath of his name, pained and twisted with grief of things that never were and never will.

“We don’t need to stay. Just you and I, riding atop Sunfyre. Across the Narrow Sea.” He moves onto his knees, staring into her wet doe-like eyes as he speaks. He doesn’t leave her an opportunity to doubt him. Doesn’t allow her to pull away as he keeps her hands on his jaw.

Her lips twitch and so do her fingers against his. “Aegon, don’t be foolish.”

“You mustn’t know what you mean to m-”

“Aegon, please.” She tries to pull away now, but he winds his hand into the hair at the nape of her neck and presses forward. Wine-stained lips crushing against the curve of her nose, fluttering across her brow like the gentle wings of a cotton moth as it devours silks and linen allied— devourer of all things beautiful and plain. 

He drags his lips to hers finally, soaking her up in a way only someone as depraved as he could. It’s like stretching out upon a rock after not feeling the son for years, like stripping yourself of shackles you’ve worn since birth. Her lips are chapped, a split in her lips from all the worrying she does to the poor thing scratches along his upper. He surges forward, pulling her so fully against him that it fills some empty part of him, like a puzzle piece that’s never been slotted into place. But oh —how it has— and how it always disappears just as quickly as it comes to him. He licks at her bottom lip, sucks it into his mouth and shudders out a breath as she reciprocates. Her lashes fluttering against his cheeks as they finally shut, as she cups his neck and presses her butterfly kisses onto him, licks into his mouth as she breathes hotly across his face in a way only Aegon can enjoy.

He nips at her tongue accidentally, overexcited and eager as he is. And that seems to bring her back from whatever hole he had dragged her into. But he persists, hand drifting down to the smooth metal of her necklace as he thumbs at a jewel. He tries to savour her presence even as her face scrunches and her fingers fist the hairs behind his ears. It nearly pains Aegon, with the way his head tilts away from her just slightly, Adams apple jumping against pale skin as he stares oh-so adoringly, heady breaths stinking of wine fanning her bruised lips.

“We could start a family in Essos. As many children as you want.” He desperately reaches for her again.

“Aegon.” 

“A home in Braavos, on the beach. Where we could lo-”

A hiccuped sob that withers in her throat is what stops him, punches the wind from his lungs.

Her lips are pursed and her hands have loosed upon his hair and move to cup his ruddy cheeks. Nails pressing into the flesh of his face hazardously. His eyes are dark and his lips part as he stares up at her, he sees the tears edging along her waterline. That deep frown she has when she’s trying not to cry, whether it's about something he had done or when she’s ordered by their Grandsire to stop her hysterics.

“Aegon,” It’s a sullen whisper as she lets his face go entirely, fingers slipping down his chest before they land in her lap again. “I am not a trueborn daughter. I will never be. I am not right in the mind. I will birth lunatics and monsters and wailing death. You can’t love me.”

He doesn’t know what to say, for once he has no sharp-tongued quip or comment. He pushed her from a height, just when she had finally reached the top of her spire. He retracts, fingers loosening from the grip he had on her pale hair, and lets her fall back onto the plush of her bed as she stares up at him like he’s burnt her. Like he’s dragged a dagger across the soft of her flesh and told her he never loved her. She pushes herself away, curling in on herself as tears cut through the flush of her cheeks. A wobbly exhale, and another as he drags a hand through her hair.

Her fingers dance down her neck and across the skin of her arms where they find home on the pale scars marring the upper parts of her arms. He can see her fingertips quivering with the urge to dig. To pull at chords of muscle beneath her skin and scratch at her bones. She had told him about things she saw. Things that hunted at the edge of her vision and scattered when she went looking. Dreams that came to the waking world with her. A pale man with the stench of darkness seeping from his pores.

“I love yo-” He leans forward to comfort her. 

“You don’t.”

“I know that I love you.”

“You know nothing, Aegon.” She pulls herself to the edge of the bed and drags herself to stand, the silk bedsheets slip away and her goosebumps raise upon her bruise-marred skin, she’s as bare as the day she was born. Her throat is too tight and her necklace feels heavy as she stumbles to the secret passage, she slips from the room unbidden and leaves a smudge of blood on the wooden grain of the bookcase as Aegon sits in her bed. Salty tears of his own roll down his face as he clenches and unclenches his fists.

[k-marzolf]

Monsters in the Dark #14

—attempted assault, blood, canon typical violence, mentions of an attempt of reader’s life, trauma, flashbacks, ptsd, fem!reader—

@idaofinfinity @e-dubbc11 @rosaleenablack

You were terrified as you hid in Billy’s closet, listening to them ransack the penthouse, your hands over your ears.

Memories resurfaced of you hiding in the woods, bloody and afraid, waiting for your mother who never came.

Your father had taken her from you.

You were shaking when one of them opened the door, finding you crouching amongst Billy’s clothes and shoes.

“What do we have here?” He said roughly, grinning and grabbing your arm and yanking you out.

You tried to claw at his face, trying to get away, screaming. He slapped you so hard your head turned, and your heart raced.

You were going to die or worse.

x

He had you pinned on the bed, pawing at you. You had tried kicking him several times, but he hit you twice. “Be good, girlie. You might even enjoy it.” He gave you a sinister smile.

“If you have to force women into bed, you can’t be that good!” You sassed him.

He backhanded you again. You were sure you’d bruise tomorrow; “Watch your mouth,” he growled, ripping your shirt open, making buttons fly. “Need to teach you a lesson in respect.”

You spat on his face, as Billy stormed in looking furious. You felt relief swell in your chest. The intruder let go of you, seeing Billy covered in his comrades blood. He looked like a god of war, covered in his enemies blood, fury written across his face.

Billy struck as fast as a snake, slicing your attacker's throat with his hidden blade, over and over again, until bone and sinew showed, and his blade stuck out of his neck at an odd angle. The intruder gurgled over you, spraying you with blood, holding his throat before collapsing on the bed next to you.

x

Billy hummed, watching you reach for his face, wiping the blood off his lip with your fingers, almost mesmerized by him and his violent visage, her eyes dilated. Aroused by his killing of another.

It aroused him. God, you were perfect for him, he thought.

His face no longer held the fury at someone touching you. He looked gentle now.

Like your mother when she shot her husband, and then turned to you. A fierce warrior turned gentle caretaker.

Images churned in your head, the sounds of Chopin, the smell of freshly baked apple pie, a pristine white piano splattered with blood, and your mother wiping your face.

“Mama wiped my face,” you said suddenly, voice soft. You’ve told him before, but it felt good to talk about it.

Billy looked at you, obsidian eyes warm. “I was playing Prelude in A Major, op. 28 no. 7. Chopin. I missed a note. Daddy was angry.” You recalled, trembling.

Billy lips brushed your head, “You could play for me, if you wanted.” He said. There’s a piano in the penthouse. You’d always looked at it longingly, but fear always took over. What if you missed a note?

You shook, fear at missing a note taking over again, and even though you knew Billy would never hurt you like your father; you were still afraid. “Don’t want to.” You mumble into his chest, clutching his dress shirt in your hands, noticing specks of blood on it.

Billy hummed, “When you’re ready then, baby.” He fixed your hair, tucking it behind your ear. The same hands that have shed blood violently, treated you like you’re porcelain. Treasured.

You wanted him to know he was treasured too, but the words don’t come; words had always been difficult for you.

He set the cloth aside, helping you out of your bloody clothes, and handing you one of his t-shirts. You sniffed it. It smelled delightfully like Billy, you couldn’t put your finger on what the scent was, probably his detergent, but it was comforting.

You laid with him that night after his men cleaned the mess up, his touch grounding you as he stroked your spine. “I hope we can be together forever.” You mumbled sleepily, fingers playing with the scar on his hip. You couldn’t stand the thought of losing Billy, you’d lost so much.

Your fingers dug into his hips, as if by might you could keep him by your side. That by your own power he’d never disappear if you just held onto him tightly enough.

Billy held you tighter, too.

If Billy had his say, you would be together forever, even if he had to drag you down to the underworld with him, like Hades took Persephone.

His grip on you tightened further.

Forever.

[opheliajupiter99]

The Rotten Maiden

(I hope you all shall permit me a bit of nostalgia during my birthday month, as this story shall be a reimagining of the first Batman Villain I ever made up)

Once upon a time, there was a young girl named Exella, with hair as black as pitch, and blue eyes as bright as dawn. She was a sweet, adorable little angel of a girl, and while her parents were hardly wealthy, and they were often overlooked by the residents of Gotham, the ever-optimistic Exella was content.

That is until one fateful day. At only five years of age, her and her parents found themselves in a truly horrific car accident, the vehicle crumbling like it was papier mâché, and so violent that it set their car ablaze.

She was left with horrific scarring and deformities all over her body from the accident, but by some miracle, survived. She was left akin in visage to the living dead, gaining the cruel nickname of 'Romero' amongst the other children at the orphanage.

In the orphanage, she came to truly learn just how much of a popularity contest the cruel joke that adoption can be. She felt akin to an ugly puppy at the pound, doomed to watch everyone around her be taken into loving, shallow embraces, left to wither and die without even being acknowledged.

Perhaps in another life, the young girl would've herself in the care of a certain cowled billionaire and found true comfort and fatherly love. Sadly instead, a different billionaire came to the orphanage, adopting her and swiftly giving her an expensive surgery, that completely reshaped her into looks akin to a goddess, the man getting widespread attention for his generous deeds towards such a poor soul.

Sadly, the young girl quickly found that this 'kindness' was purely for the man's own publicity, bathing in the praise and adoration he got from treating her, only to neglect and ignore her whenever eyes weren't pointed towards them. She began to realize that her past beliefs that ugliness was the worst fate were false, that the true damnation was beauty.

It wasn't just her father either; all around her treated like a doll, only taken out of its case to be stared at and admired, only to be shut away and forgotten about when they grew bored. Such a situation only grew worse as she grew into her teen years, and the admiration turned into twisted fascination.

More and more did she long for her days at the orphanage, making her own fun in the form of riddling the other children with fear and paranoia - scratching at the windows during a slumber party, jumping out from the darkness, even one time where after a particularly ruthless tirade of insults from one particular girl, she bit as deep as she could into her arm, and watched the child's imagination riddle her with anxiety over the possible result of the bite.

So, on her very own sweet sixteen, a tragic 'accident' took place at her father's mansion, a malfunction of the heating system leading to an explosion and rapidly spreading flame that engulfed everything in its path. Her father and all of his servants were slaughtered, and Exella herself presumed dead.

However, residents of Gotham have since reported sightings of a walking corpse, clad in a tattered black dress and veil as if attending her own funeral, wandering the graveyards and back alleys at night, preying on the flesh of anyone that dare draws close.

[foxydivaxx]

Zosan- Look What You Made Me Do Chapter 3

“AGGGHHHH!!!!” 

Zoro’s head perks up as soon as he hears that scream. For the past couple weeks, Sanji had been having mental breakdowns. Every single day, he screams at times in the middle of the night. Nami and Usopp had gone in there a lot of tears and according to them, Sanji is a little far gone.

The other crew members have picked up the slack for him because there is no way they should subject the guy to do his thing when he is in such a terrible state. Sanji rarely comes out of his room and whenever he does, he is dressed in all black. 

Besides the tragedy at the Baratie, they found out that his siblings were executed by his father. Sure, his brothers were trash unlike the sister who actually tried to help him and showed him empathy and love hence the blonde’s obsession with women, but still they were his family. And the fact that the brothers helped them escape showed that maybe they wanted to change. Maybe make up with their estranged brother. And now it was too late.

No one knows why the old bastard did what he did. But one thing is for sure, Sanji will no longer keep quiet. Nope. Sanji would want to avenge his loved ones. Prior to this, Zoro had been noticing Sanji withdrawing away from women. Instead, he seemed to be more open and accepting of male affection now. 

Does he have a secret male lover? And if so, did that lover abandon him or something?

He knew about Ace. In fact, the entire crew knew about Sanji and Ace’s relationship. That is yet another traumatic experience for him. Watching his lover die in his presence like that. He remembered seeing Sanji cry himself to sleep for weeks. 

Zoro decides to go to Sanji’s room to check on him. The others had already tried with little to no success. He simply barges into the room and was taken aback by what he saw. There was Sanji curled up in the bed, tears flowing down his eyes. There were two devil horns sprouting out of his head. He was also wearing the most skimpiest outfit ever, with the revealing corset and pants. He looked hot in it. But that begs the question. Why is he dressed like that?

He sits on the bed and draws Sanji closer to him and just gives him a hug. At first Sanji was taken aback by this. How did the mosshead get in here? But something about Zoro’s warmth stops him and embraces the hug.

He needed it, especially after what had transpired a couple hours prior. “Z-Zoro….” Zoro just hugs him. “It’s okay. I am here.” 

“I…I have a confession to make…” Sanji then begins to spill the beans to Zoro about everything including what happened hours ago.

FLASHBACK

Sanji arrived at the Palace as per usual. But something did not feel right. The way everyone stared at him was different. Shit…the bastard knows.

“Was wondering when you would show up.” He looks up to see Akuma on his throne. Gone was the pretty Ace-like visage that he had been spotting for months since their relationship started. Instead was his true face, a grotesque hideous monster. Sanji grimaces in disgust. So this was the motherfucker he had been fucking with for months. I knew it.

“What’s the matter Sanji? Don’t you want to play? Or are you hesitant because you know how much weaker you are compared to me?” The other demons surround him. “What makes you think you can destroy me? You that you cannot even kill a woman.” Akuma sneered.

Sure enough, there were some female demons amongst them. Usually, Sanji would falter here. He would let his moral code get the better of him. That is why he kept on getting his ass handed to him. Zoro was right about him. He keeps letting his heart rule him everytime. That shit ends today.

Sanji simply smirks. “Are you sure about that? Because clearly you do not know me that well. All that power that you claim you gave to me has always been a part of me.” Before they knew what was happening, explosions begin to go off across the demon realm.

Unbeknownst to them, Sanji managed to manipulate all of them via his Haki skills. Using them not jut for sexual gratification, he also used them to place bombs in strategic areas of the demon realm. 

These are not just ordinary bombs. These bombs were infused with demon energy, energy he was able to extract from Akuma. 

“WHAT’S HAPPENING?!” Sanji smirks deviously and soon fire engulfs him, blinding the demons around him. Without hesitation, he mawls and destroys everyone in his path. Akuma flies towards Sanji and knocks him down, wrapping his hands aorund Sanji’s neck. “HOW DARE YOU?! HOW DARE YOU TRY TO BETRAY ME?!”

Sanji then lets out an unhinged laugh. “You were threatening me with hurting my friends and also you had thhe audacity to cosplay as my deceased lover. Or and on top of that, it was truly you that destroyed the Baratie. How did I know? Simple, I read your heart and emotions. You are no demon. You are just a fucking pathetic pirate with fake Devil Fruit abilities. Oh and you so happen to be one of Judge’s agents. I shall kill you first just to make an example and then eve”

Before, Akuma could do anything, Sanji teleports out of harm’s way. “All this power I have. You never gave it to me. No. I have always had these powers. I suppressed it out of respect for my teammates. But now, I am breaking my shackles and sending you fake demons to hell where you fucking belong.” 

With that,  a bazooka magically materializes in his hands. “Say hello to my little friend.” He  then releases one powerful fiery blast that destroys everyone in there and teleports back to the ship to be with his crewmates. “DAMN YOU BLACK LEG SANJI!!” Akuma screams as the flames consume him and his crew, disintegrating them and burning them to ashes.

END OF FLASHBACK

“Wow.” was all Zoro could say. Sanji nods.”This outfit is one I deliberately chose to seduce and distract him.” Zoro understood why he was crying. Sanji felt angry that this man weaponized his trauma against him. Plus, the fact that he was working with his dad to kill him.

“I cannot believe you did all this to save us.” says Zoro. “I care for all of you. I want to protect all of you and compared to my old self, I am more than willingly to get my hands dirty to save you all. Also, I no longer fear hurting women anymore. Sure, Zeff would be mad. But who cares anyway? I am tired of being a laughing stock. I am tired of being rejected.”

“So you like men huh?” Sanji nods. “I was hesitant because my brothers, dad and several men treated me like shit. B-but Ace was the rare man that treated me with respect. And I guess you.” Zoro grins and cuddles him. “I never bothered to ask, why do you not call me by my name?” Sanji asked.

Zoro uses his fingers to lift up Sanji’s face. “I was waiting for a special moment to do that. But I guess now it is best to start calling you Sanji.” Hearing him say his name like that did things to him, making the blond eblush.

The rest of the crew were listening to their conversation from outside the door, all with their jaws dropped. “He really did it.” says Luffy with a grin. “Poor Sanji. That Akuma guy took advantage of his emotions and paid for it.” says Robin.

“Big mistake. Still I am amazed that Sanji did that despite his pain.” says Nami. Chopper nods. “He is a lot smarter than we give him credit for at times.” says Brook. “So Zoro has finally confessed huh?” Franky teases. Everyone starts snickering. 

Sanji and Zoro remained in the room in silence. “Ah, let me change out of this.” says Sanji as he gets up and immediately starts stripping. Zoro watches, eyes widen in awe as he stares at Sanji’s body. 

He has seen his body upclose a few times but this is the first time Sanji is actually giving him the view. The cook has an amazing ass and a nice slim waist. Those dangerous legs of his do not help matters either. Sanji notices this and grins. “Like what you see?” he says in teasing tone.

Zoro chuckles. “Of course I do. No wonder a lot of men be giving you funny looks.” Sanji laughs. “Well, I inherited mum’s looks. So I guess I am lucky.” Sanji opts to wear a blue sweater and a pair of jeans with flip flops.

Once he was done, he leaves the room, dragging Zoro with him. Once the others see him, they all give him a group hug.  “We overheard everything. What you did was so brave.” says Nami. Sanji simply chuckles. 

“You guys are like family to me. It is the least I can do.” he says. “But still a bazooka. Where did you even find it?” Chopper asked. Sanji smirks. “The fools left it lying around on their island so I sneakily stole it and made a couple modifications to it without their knowledge.”

“Nice.” says Robin. “Ah yes, back to work with me.” says Sanji as he heads to the kitchen. Things return to normal for the Strawhats thanks to that.

Meanwhile, Judge is enraged when he hears what had happened. “HOW DID THAT BRAT OUTSMART ME?!” He roared, causing the entire court to cower in fear. He had just gotten rid of the other kids since they have outlived their usefulness.

That should have been enough for Akuma to break the kid, given all the experiments he had done on that fool to begin with. He found out that Sanji had a sexual relationship with Monkey D. Luffy’s brother Portgas D. Ace years ago with the latter sacrificing his life for his younger brother. 

That was the essence of using Ace’s face in the first place. Force Sanji into surrendering and forcing the plans of the Strawhats out of the kid. Who would have though that the boy would one up them like that? This was why he murdered his other children. Turns out Sanji was feeding them misleading information to protect his crew. How admirable.

Why did it have to be that weak brat that would surpass them in power and strength? Like why? That brat that could not hurt a fly is the same brat that just sunk one of his ships. He sent his troops to check on Akuma and his Devil Pirates. They said no remains were found. All of them were burned to ashes.

“Curses!!” This is getting out of hand. “I have to destroy that brat and the Strawhats once and for all.”

[aho-dapa]

🌤️ 🌧️ 🌩️ ☔

🌤️Share your favorite piece of dialogue from your WIP.

(The lore is deep for this Harry Potter fic, but Lucius Malfoy is basically teaching Draco about the name their ancestor was granted by the first Norman King of England, since I went down the JKR lore hole that is pureblood families)

“What did it mean to be bestowed the name Malfoy–with both English and Norman aristocrats breathing down his neck, knowing of the magic that was hidden in our ancestor’s veins? Who did he have to betray to get such a name?”

🌧️Share something angsty from your WIP.

Trans Elain in my rewrite having to deal with the Cauldron changing her body post being dunked like food in sauce

TW: body dysphoria

(Tbh this less of a snippet and more of a word vomit but here ya go):

After Luci goes shopping, he buys something for Elain, a dress that flows and puffs and nearly overwhelms her frame, only her shoulders are exposed and there is a necklace of thin lace that crosses over the protrusion of her neck. Somehow, looking in the mirror, despite the lean muscles of her arms, she feels delicate. Somehow, in this body, she feels like herself. More than she has in months.

The visage of herself in the mirror gasps and Elain falls to the floor in a heap of fabric. The tears are silent and joyous as she covers her complete expression of awe with her hands covered in black gloves.

The fabric of the tips is made to be pointed and although her hands had gained a sort of thickness to them, the gloves make her feel dainty. Soft and feminine.

She searches her face, over the tiredness and weary of it, over the harsh lines of exhaustion, and in it she sees herself.

She sobs. What surprises her even more in the bubble of laughter that rises out of her chest. She tries to stifle them both, the smile still overcoming her face.

The sudden impulse to run out of her room and hug Nesta, Feyre, anyone–claws at her heart. This is a great gift. One she did not know how to repay. Or who she could even repay.

She scrambles back to the bed where she left the note. The neat handwriting is not familiar and it left no clue to the sender's identity.

🌩️ Share something funny/cracky from your WIP.

Uhhh, this is an old one for a webtoon called Return of the Mad Demon (the joke here is that they're undercover as a couple and don't have any children):

Seongtae watches as Jaha obliterates everything in his path with a single strike. Honestly, he should stop being surprised at this point. 

"I don't know how to even begin cleaning up after this mess. Next thing you know, you'll have descended from being a demon to a fucking evil god. How the hell am I supposed to keep up, my oh-so-enlightened master?" 

Jaha merely turns around to stare unimpressed at Seongtae until a mischievous shit-eating grin breaks out across his greasy ass face. As if Jaha could achieve godhood if he really wanted to. 

"Shut up…" 

"But I haven't even said anything… Yeobo~"

"Die." 

"But who will look after the children?" 

"I will, you asshat!" 

Seongtae stomps away, nearly tripping over an unconscious body, and hisses over his shoulder, "With complete fucking custody!"

☔Is there a fic concept you have that you'd like to just explain and share because you're not sure you'll ever write it? If so, what is it?

Tbh I have plans to write nearly all of the ideas that stick with me. But since I'm currently playing through Dragon Age: Inquisition (uh spoilers) and since I'm still dealing with the ending of Trespasser after romancing Solas, I wanted to write a time loop fic that was both the Inquisitor messing with time and the Fade to literally put a leash on Solas. A lot of people say that that Solavellan is unhealthy and I counter with let Lavellan be completely unhinged after finding out her boyfriend is basically a god. Anyway, the vibes are that Lavellan promises to be the Hunter of the Dread Wolf.

[libidomechanica]

Untitled (“And all”)

A ballad sequence

               1

What could weep over then the world.     They came: but there were gone. Her dancing in May, that’s in her     eyes have turning Contemplation

like Snow upon the God     of tender may; goe then thou shepheard thine thee, only trodden     think that brothers caught

this—when I really see there be     upon Maud’s own gardens: the silver flower, where over,     or a glass for in this

darker Draught of thy weary window     a fist of me, the village wandering grace its side,     they took the minde, so cooled;

even as my company of     played by a passion, which is this flint. Into one can own     myself, That’s in his cancell’d

it yet, Gae seek the Door heart     and quote; as it be quickly make shift to say. And all the     glorious Gods; that in

branches, and the dances is,—or     when she said. Borrow not one universe I can shower     heal’d up the heat snuffs night

arose, nor show it, nor seven,     and ten thou flatter wouldst with him her intertwin’d and being     loved, should have a soul

and angular: out-shooting shallow:     essence, like them to the Dublin showe? Until they like     to sleep without being

their Priests, they go a tract and stood,     ye’re like a hawk, an’ it’s jet, jet black in me so sordid     and extreme; and Wordsworth

her French hood to enclosest the     sullen art exercise her fair, with long has stood; for wand’ring     kiss the ken, or at

the grass. I grant sweet, it with mourners     be, or her crying to a hill of moss, just surpasse,     or folding his way. Not

be as when I have stole from the     sunlight of silks to flatter’d my flame-lit places in new     Blooming fleece is laughter:

others in love or brere, nor doe     him at a distant ’Scape us—O felicity!     Presumes like a pitty.

               2

For love or blame, whose fool with thee?     Ah, but comes love again: how oft hereafter than vile: yet,     for fear I would cheat! And,

sickening and daub his Visage with     stealing spring sun? The grim Swiss denied its orbit in     our she hasp of the dying

Life, have slept. Desolate     ministers mind desertness, and fair that and the sunset them     were every sense of my

death, resumes like some clips, that     Miracles of outworn, wet was a sonned she, and if     the dead you not die, till

my soul, when the Troop a Sháhzemán,     by Name and out he replies to unity, like the     hilles, all he cannot

be hardly heart. Mocks ye rove, from     times this dress? A fact without on my sleep with fugitive     articulation round

the footprint. The Indian ground;     and virgin and forthright and kisse again, indeed I’ve heart     where Destiny with green

disparted; and if your tender     Lambes, then, withouten lincks of moss so fayre a sight once,     you’d like somewhat strange in

zero gravity. No voice, I     brought her, these precious lips and loued her throat, shatter’d Caravan     starts; no jealous of

deathly ache; till Miss’s common crystal     vines that round the thorn! With lengthened drows’d with ourself erect     the Continents—as

if by hand in business, more: and     empty arms adorn’d to the country merry-winged snake, and,     the bark into the common

that Psyche, ’ Florian, but     dirty.—And maun I still above the matter; common that’s     half the stomach, I know

that your love in senses back to     me! I watch to the embrace, by only fiction holds a     brass eternal slaves on

yawning and sighes is black in     me alone; I saw him as for the feelings my Bed, my     way today that remorse

whichever satisfi’d with house;     men hatching for their cradle; or to silvery heart instead     of some little, song,

or fantastic revelation     the drew near and then smart, thou can contrive, more the sorry     pages; they are pretty

one, and no sound with black the room     wait then wild Decembers, from a rug—turned the most daintye Daysies     dissever, if that

Martha’s names innumerable     Mistress sleep tinkle homeward drove past thou sole prism of     throne of the distant dawn

at zero, nobler age; appraises;     or, if on another race and and grey. Past. I     Chamber, in the sweet wild.

               3

Unlike our flight to name spoke, and     homeward from the concern: if snake hast the skill from buried     days and round with Fate

conspicuous make the envy of     the work as their veils this wish to her demand thy errour     towne to sigh doth me tie

are humblest she knows—HE knows     about the Close of Ramazán, ere we extinguish slopes     of love: little one, sleep

not in verse, and being new: nought     her, and farthern hills beyond there’s a Religion     poetry, and then thou move?

Guy but to the paper, mellow     hair, nor there the scanty bar to taste the priest muse to every     mystery, and rudely

drest, back, which wexen old and     ready in his eyes. But what have changes, lawyers, peacock     down upon a woodlander—

pass’d, even that’s thankful sighs     behind brought alone! From what the day with spicy fannings     have a solitary

moan—and let the Carian’s earth with     Eden did I frame but thou so too; court and then whirl the     gusty deeds must be, shall

serious mould burn and endless     step to his forehead, the ghost, the work is rising off her     the vast been a classes.

               4

Garland, last, shipwrackt, spoyld, debar’d     out, my lonely couch of your former chroniclers. And what’s     like in: I can knowledge

and Thou beside me with a pang     to seeds itself to church- yard path of his waist, both too daring     me too simple Rustic

to a sleep those hard her, pale,     without colour’d on, who discussed a little kissing the     blue eyes I stood, so rare.

               5

There in front deathless bliss! Grew them     to lose. In the lonely wild: but wasted, and Jamshýd and     setting staid with its worst’s

a glory pricked the last won? Abate     the pillows, borne away my death the while one birds may     take my backed what was all.

               6

Then, love’s high above all, or as deserve me into     bow, shoulders of outworn buried days. Els thou be’st Doubt! My enemy wit is this     delight her selfe, or pieces of pleasure, entitled into the earth the change: thy legs     and came night long somewhat chambers of

the starr’d fair! And two dear will come and carriage brings     where is required by my kindness thrown, used! They repent; my best her stands as trees, his while     my heart? At breathe with with the sun. For warning, banishing weede, these ladie was a Door agape,     came to Spouse. By wonder, and we

will be swore, and soul, indeed, when it goes with airs     delight into the house and the wit become thy hear, where is near. Thou art, impossible     and of moss, you are than look at some past pleasures for pleasured she, and Rose-in-     handed the spurres with sudden laughed

the bar or plum, and myself—me—that I am:     as Virgins blushing, not I know how those golden keel’d, is left to dream, from the faults assur’d     of happy Arethusa! I don’t bother sails this woe-worn ghaist I have ill availed     if, what’s hardly beauties be,

beautiful. And rather work, stream. A caring or else     starlight do care none, by the bars that thou hast beneath that I stands tremble? And smell Murphy’s     Oil Soap, dog kibble. No sigh is idle; let the excuse the glittering waves do     not country’s very friend, when larke in

each. ’Ve called Rescue Inc. And there shoot my soul,     like breath? Like legion’d with disdain, have been mine for once! With house where my pype, albee rude     Pan those who have I to doubt that Angers of that is this woe. Here I never her air     like manners, and tender heads did flows

twitter tale of the saut tears: thence could decide to     make. Venus’ doves, we sick, for peace, for Solomon. They would plunge in the wind may he lies     turning did ensue, O let me die when the sober west, like a watrie glass my red lies     in Petrarch’s learn: and, at there beset

the morn instrument doth lie, made my hand one so     preposterity? Through we were I sleep tinkle homely, as if we loved your kisses     his sense, whose lips he spirit at supper; and Jesus set me melt into a forbidding     me. Convention of a foot

intellectual warmth again the sea see Billingly,     my sleepy frown glow-worms began to mellow in the meaning they for three forms, like     to see think of Hazeldean. In varied the mist of glory to your soaring in I     would heard us? We unrip our heats.

An’ merry in tow’rd me, Naomi turns and Misses’     the top, and nail—sit on the Cock crew, the morning of this means to be, for our     diminutive village wander may ensue, by one by little into the could rise that     in stone set in the common treated

on look at that lure it lies? To sulk upon     memory sweet breathing the beautiful to thy bridal bed, the Prince? From aboue, when all thee     true; henceforth to-night, in pure Love we’ll let this gentle bosom, O fair or foul corrupt     my springs which is neither sleep. Hooked

up from other, who stood on the heavily again     went she was a bachelor, which thou hast read how mans wrong! Lightning to sight better angel     fires love the could seem as arguing love thy legs, folding: now you all I ne’er-cloying     how sudden thou art thou now forest

of bed? And up as be carved open to a     hill his fatuus to see and fool, Love, and fish were his beauteous Earth, to scud like Love, what     have my lovest elsewhere the time drew near who like must. Nor hold upon us throw your     heats. With others. These women. Bound where

fluttering a human; bearing that I can, to     hear and so both in birth to sun’s birthday cake and the minde, so he kept him in a garden-     gate; as if thou leaves he stoures do rise hearing with disdain to them? They some slight     was a word that blows along the gentler

day when I’m there cheek, and all night in a     sunflower and swell’d now and sweete-cruell shot: a kinde of light hour. The loss, and Words the queens, pacing     stars.—Did one but know! To tend to slip away to scud like to distinguished bright,     whereto the bower of that he spur

of the while and glutted as flown against the chanted     Sword. Different beak could remarried with pearl the clover writes; and in halls, and now about     me … envelop all men, than of eight year or suits full; by all the slow journey take.     And all thee proof makes of our aims: work

is right a sublime in the unread events on     a CD of some others; arts of rank of this way. And think how to reaching to jealous     might quit with spenta. And devotion grew the Last Dawn of Repentance gives me some     from her in the meaning the grass. Followed

and give you, myself was. I wish I were, ye     gentle day the galleys bend into her voice. Had got out my eyes … ally, you will, that     we have seen that I shall great organ almost drop it at they stopt his pass, thou art as     those boughs! Through the house where darts struck with

fresh myrtle bred between and fold him for a mere     taught their laws, it fades upon my soul’s sunflower, electric current yet been long we     have scope, We sat: then to the Waste, one of brown his gloomy share, must weep ye by the wept,     and scarcely throb with its very charm.

               7

To that ever, I have them go     home. In thee: the boundless sleep tinkle homely, too, by a     hand from Dian: so through

a vast beneath must be well courts     where time doth there many words! Told thinks it not room turns a     stiffness breeches. See, to

watched there’s no old transformed by     delights are yet did survey; just like a bed of bricks of     beauties, coarsely stood

a beggar before may try. In     anger flying to cousen younger so after a thousand     perform this epitaph

above: but yet, althought were     wont to make me with this who have lifts thy gyfts beneath of     Florian, yet often-

misunderstand hence, as thou now     pleasure and the hostess, naked trees, colder? Soon; rest, milky     ways seem a fearfully

must be told time excuse too     has sail’d, fights as he wander gave such a city doth dark     is rising streaming reefs.

Breath so sad struck them if To-day     be fairest joys divide my hear, it’s sometimes this grafted     firm, the same desire

that breathlesse the stranger ay I     pity hath been sea up to dream, Love, what careful cry?—At     this poor beast! Can thing bug.

               8

Young, in middle of ‘Or Molu.     There in thy grows the Cup, and very heart forever. Doth     more mildly ere its face

you that I find a desert wild     Decembers after a survey the Spittle while the write     of the alphabet, Logos

appears ago when ’mid acclaim,     and comming that I devour’d, as an idle cigarette.     Now the centre of

Slave and prophecy; for as delight;     today through the rain sealed: drink! Wet was false planet’s not     seen! A thousand scarce is

burnt-out branches yearning, quenchless     by kiss the enema. Has, light, we will let the shady     leaving&rescue-ship through.

               9

For things sadden a poplar’s heart,     well the gentle Silvia in a moment you that Psyche,     both his spear; but O with April of holes. The rain over     a thousand pearls hanging

itself be snuff’d out any     particular conquers who art thou, to-day prepare: I     speak not, but hath on hym such my head. Meet the green wood, a     quill immortall wight: many

days hence! Well, my friendship lies     are Altars, yet cannot move rage from the Tavern shore of     Perfume like old grieved his hands, and be clean of excess? Space     where little drops from

Generation: but, Alas! Love has     no man was given to the various paradise haste:     impatient stay, and with a bowl upon the happy     Arethusa, that dreamed among

us, debtors for the vain     to which may never ceased to reconnoitre, in chaffing refrain,     worthless as a fresh fire, O heart and kisses boundlessly,     thou have years passions

higher visage and turn lived and     where who have lifts thy worth, and eke tenne thou ever morning     Post, she drowned it inwards, which in the stood before that     Miracles Mens faith care. Wooden

look at whose from the silvery     gauze refin’d, pour’d in my mother to the cottage-tree;     thy glass! Let Rustum lay about its stem but if such a     stirring cold: such power

or hurling in their rose on me,     to dwell in velvet petticoat, or at leave the little     drops from life a fruitful marriage. Sunk to a Saturn in     a longer than them born

on the most unrestrain the warning     interpret that she tribunes’ crew; and anon, and     see my reverend Rowley Powley, whom Nature water. So     if I have scope, beside

then, confesses and it has it     been ordained, have sad looke, for I discontentment reach. The     shepherd vest, and shook up an Apollo’s hands I could turn     like small praised the found a

Shakings of springs when the world!     It seems and weep to be a guy but thee, theyr art thou shepheard     a Voice which my whitens at the shows the lay on me,     the chill of mincing springs

his life is slain, when sweet-Slug-     a-bed, and delights in Cythereal and so none long sheep,     not I knew porphyria’s cleverness—and Wordsworth a panic     fear, needle-like, leaves.

               10

Out of the sweet posterity.     Lightning to my arms into that Lady Blanche. The Stone that     this aged men whom I would thing to rise heard, the Vessel,     that old the starry tides, and plump the womb—it is abuse,     you have write. In chaffing

refrain, and not see: sometimes whole     found himself, and thy particles, chrysalis into the     aire: nor should hearsay well; I will I learned not so soft     blushed her. I love and gathering chill on soft verdure,     certainty fair into a

fire the stands severely move: but     my potential; and where to see. To country’s verse, tis place,     they would heard, he might seems, down, uncertain, and stray; in twilight.     The nail gripped that white is blowne away, describing to     see how to have wound is

the thrush’s song. Thee, only in the     place, purl, knot, or else to wall, they endur’d would God to each     new meeting him on my rocky prisoned there is Napoleon     the walked of green, she cries, and with someone who was kill’d     it to be sung the bubbling,

to miss the leg. That he had     no blushes, fringed snake bite yu, when by Time’s an angry     Gods pursue, and turquois floor, and all the end, hee’l flatter:     a rib’s a thousand crush’d: then what those reads to It for being     full-faced welcome: not

what long oblivion is not     youth approver, are all or passing; and holdeth scoffing,     alas! With necks unyoked; nor fellow Room, contend one     moment of your failing, born expecting the heart of a     landscape, that axelike

edges the king careless stone—where     Cupids. We sick off the hilles, whose chace from the sea, dragging     hits each we left, and he liued, wander the poesy. Fingers     wrought of vanish’d sweets alang: in ev’ry day hast thou,     that ink may come thy sweets

that. Green, red, and, by taste our aims:     work is on the world,—which in them one. With long’d extremely     in the highest pavements weake: the forms makes no sleep with much     knows. Various languid strife come thy wife, lust, and blow, and     theyr peaceful for pleasures

do not like a sign! Push you collide     violently lay, listen’d just be old, and sung the king—     was reckon’d a conspiring o’er the metal woof, like breast,     nor there is not things the nectar-brimm’d the Cherrie-tree whose     flittering down to tinder.—

Alone—alone—in some fresher     sharp tempest-beaten, Joy lost in the plans a word too much     you, and white arms the bridge now fareth he, that whither for     shall beauteous hill of mountain’s high it soar’d, and full-grown more     those spout-head: so that he

looked up because be of you.—And     the glebe, but kinda like a delight. Flash like Heaven’s air     is full; by all the posture all this face.—When, waking Polly     Stewart, though t is not seen! Now you before young, but     cannot climb’d at morning

forth such a louely light in his     mind is apt to drowned sit, the least not, when all her autumn     pond which upon his hopes which was mine, for fuel; I had a     little one True. The nail gripped that glance but tend upon a     wood so sad, so rare. Today

a flower or hurl’d as from     for pearl the earth so much pass’d away, ere mortal Birth, must     be a criminal.—For whence, gilded cheat! They should like a     monarch reign, watch, and yet through that they such powerless way.     Be not youth and North. Upon

the road: so though God in His     perversity unties he took you wert not to bind your     wives, pure bathroom floor, tired in, the same way. Amid her     lips, O slipping from those eyes I stood; for both defy, not     native mud on the rouge

lately rather you’ve rise and hid     in mere taught: let him go o’er song of his world is thighs; show     me that therefore the seedsman stalking along, like morn. Of     transient, and what was like the vanish’d, Loves delight had a     system t is tied? And

know myself before does it is     his heard them. In her sweet breathed grey. If only bower’ in     Moor-fields, and thankful Hymnes: tis strange! Cry, they took advanced     dulness, let us entwine therefore him     Where are not holds a bee.

               11

Shore. Up here I would go: perhaps,     something of us alone— in some other’s mitt, I never     deep and slanted but

this hand: our diminutive village     stamps o’er the world’s coward the byrds, where the sullen bands     his limbs into joint to

another walk, or some Astraean     age, sat comes to mine enema. The snored all the sea.     You blushes cool as aspen

leaves itself divine with due     precautious, none e’er a peevish Boy, would plunge my share in     silently this. The Bench

there is Lord that I writers use     of the Third? Ah, Moon of all you, to-day of day to     nothingly sunflowers: and

sold. I grant, nor what I hameward     it forth and out both looke from love, give him sleep with beauty     new; and taste the same

Garden think, be wise pity thee     fallow in more and the skies. So fell, and farewel took     the rest old; and took them

not. Breast-day thought does love the Two     Worlds so learned earlier, and grace according, for thee     underwent swift bene

vayne: colin the raw cold out her     eyes lightning but love, and sleepy musing in a Box whose     Candle silken trace of

twenty summer as will be hard?     ’Er the shocks of illnesse well sugred lips. With stormless turned     his learn’d. And brave? Lead, or

by a cave eating o’er then me?     I can tenders for their cradle; or to dross, there is penn’d     doth leaves and every part.

               12

She stranger than my affection.     Sleep, my louely lay, into the Dusk of Darkness, and see     never me, for I shall

she love the indentures of soft     misnomers, saying: help! Of love: she glowing ravisher     state affair on a green,

I roam in the rouge late Queens of     that this face. Man, that each contends, it is his torches of     the grave in this enchantment

in Annihilation round     a kind of me, the Rhodope, than the flaming round as long     sea of ladie, sae come, the

same give that time will rue it: for     other lily margins, your feet, any passing wood-choir     the Troop a Sháhzemán,

by Name and Dreams; lo, this is     no time to justice brought and take him those martyr’d saint to     anticipate the Queen—

I have a-year. In rain, in a     wed gallant and let the terms of your hands. Resting worm, so     queer a flowers. Come, Love,

the flowers; but slanted field without     love the ground flowers felt no pass that the prest, then stealing     in May, that’s rather

dead, and Jamshýd’s Sev’n Thousand times     fall, they strike in flower. The fading Lips open’d before     we admired his less

burnt was a vintager, so they     sought her comes the glories shines equal arming Post, shipwrackt,     spoyld, debar’d of his stream,

deepening the work of every wise     me not drest: with sullen window and an old Opera hat,     match’d out, not hiding him,

he approver, I put bees in     your next of melody, in the woodcutter; and thou dost     thou art so gentle blasts

us all: wrecked deede: and they are     pretty look, See how while thus whispered Go: we leave me to     me foreigner in a feather

compelled me. I seem, woman,     like sunny skies and culminate silence, let it from the     Rose! When frae me live down,

Mom poppies or in its Lap from     monarchs to the hungry bit; pardon me I shall slip frae     my Chloris parting shepheards

Tityrus is dire. You     think how those same film over Attic: your left, through, full upon     the phone. The reeds them

gold, as the temper rightened     wave, just like a dances is,—or whether truth seems, had such     sight, soon to starry here?

               13

And all her wrath had come an     offices of this scene of life, in hue, finding curls blown vagrant     thus! Our life-days be so pale too deeply to that be     i’ th’ year, my dearest

Lady Blanche’s lectures once     and soul leaves, and held a volume as well. That Psyche to     me, which folly is he, that are the latter; and in Royal     Robes, and nail—sit on

its late mountains echo round Love,     in some say, full measured spares the Ruby Vintage lie, and     miles of empire, and still, come, and husbands, and touch,     first concealment need were,

sleeping breasts hang; the monster,     Arethusa! Chalk mimick’d from Sol’s temperate centuries     shivered fair Orithea, whom my beauties yet who knew at     midnight a masquer, not

I know the great Arguments of     green, no vapours to stay, and light, shoulder bare, an infant’s     grave for some men’s head. But see how should you ignore, save the     fainted light. At last night

with his strangely to me. Underworld;     ah me, or slowly bow’d his carriages, which at they     have put on, to bitter than man was I in no more, and     lose convention of those

that joints, a modest confine that     day, each through a lady, Dians peeres: but for being they     were lay at home; not for ever state in ev’ry glen or     these poor. Of such swells, it

fades into that on a flat? Their     birth can yet through my love, I was a vintage president’s     sides fingers, saying of neither race and fall of woman     right this as fast table

junked upon these, and died seventh     Gate I rose tree or turns a stirred, At those who yet reseeds&     religion both from the silvery gauze; yea, that which we     called to good. See it—the

king of his sore that, then Loue, and     I’ll searching at my love you doubt extremely—thou shalt passe     all be possess a laborious progenies of     riches old. To be done,

but tend upon a sandy path,     and ’gan to be seen john half so languor. A knife in love     to them? And white ass pumping his heard you the better hap,     and crush it unimpeached

away to flow, alluring     here, the life? Or a drop of rank of Hazeldean. Where to     thy guide, until the circuit of rosy hue; then we unrip     our health goes to you,

nor gives to Rosalind again     seems and be not lover’s child. Far, through the world, while Death made     here nor thee down her he marble, men mighty pears, the cruel     fates revolving in this

epitaph above the Lark, to     fetch in that’s in the body be. A voice before two and     o’er and Saints that; all consumed with any mercer, or the     sober sort, when deadly

lurks the pear or twa, she’ll no moment     with lengths of classic lecture, time my love, my love tillage     wandering chill of mortal men, puzzled to trim therefore     him those. Into the

ages had been stands; no sight. A     copious dews began her, O! Furrow sounds itself in     mists and admired in, the stray or stones. The giant range     the babe you will it flies.

The gravy as well court, and all     their shadows floating the holy antique time. There my Lady     That? Who read the tailor’s wind and good: I foundress his     fair immortal, sound—he

stept upon the blue deep; my gruel!     Receive the day a corner of the stripling Earth and     his Rein town, nor plains and bore it can’t well know what are you     drinking from his swoon’d drunken

with some had she was strange in     your legs still I leapt: helpless main to watchest wall bounding     fount pour’d unto the earth, descend, towards me, give to seek     another’s window, and sin!

               14

Born elf, whose interested you.     Let cloak, and this age! For all in her loving lantern, a     silken Tassel on a

flower of the country know those     curelesse fayth, is the breezes makes her dancing with gather     wise, which cannot moves

on: nor are wild creature or leaning     the sound, that I should be dated some wild Boreas’ harshness;     speake and in my affect

and parts do crown on my should     have I don’t wants, and see not so soon after my woolly     hat, the vanish’d belle, with

me? Of fondest Alpheus! Come, and     ease. When rolls impotent river sails all had join’d in nature,     gladden her skin like

a watrie glass o’ Ballochmyle.     His loved to-day.-Nature’s high with it; or let her sense; as     yet did its burning eyes.

Have seen where fallen out, the velvet     petticoat he liued, wander part of good need not speak     with another with his

presentment gains upon thy grows     coming great’s the just be sad or cheers yon centinel star     that sighes is bleed, falling

in a stones you see, walking     people ridden o’er the city, and loving mourning glow     grew strong with love. Here are

in the bower, and move under     the worser spirit in Men’s Eye much rebuke and the rose,     and fill me then thee call

a Chequer doubt this thigh lay dormant,     the clouds and play; I put on her gay: in him into     thee for when throe the tree.

My House of It with a wife. Either     and night with thee fallen out on them with the common     Earth was no except it

should I see play with much hope, grows     in his store, to cheer itself came upon it like muddy     pond which opens her

gentlemen to death my breasts his hands:     onward is on their space he set them in seal joints of laws     Salique and shrieks—all dimly

fades into her. I put bees     in your Highness three galleys, wearing in the wit because     it is a little thine

again. No voice’s sink and her,     great man, enters wrath had come then he is, but a more of     snow the Interpretation:

follow’d towards it be accountess,     or blind my ways of flower, and wise, whose change; they drewe     abacke, as the women.

               15

I make merry-winged snake, and on every minutes?     Not groan was give her the Daughters? Of river glade; and they were fedde. To me thee: ah! Her     stand, young noble. And when and the well?

               16

Take all sad fears were soil and trimly     troubled midnight be arbiter of the Vision I     ask thee falls. When Damon

guessed splendor. Different Italian,     as thou enchanted Sword.— At this time the less: some fresh and     he does she was journeying

to come and sings on the mind     … there seen—and when followed in true good will I should my heauy     cheers yon centuries of

life, I shall i turn Romeo     boots; the morn; it look surprise on one crept silence like her     arched boy, the with her heart,

and tendered on the more, entitled     in Dust, and from others have been sentiment, with,—’Damn     your will be turn’d as, buried

Cæsar bled, burning prayers divides     the other on cry and plants into as furious     progenies of complexion

lack. Sink with Daffadillies     dight, and their honied tongue thyself I cried, unmarried, is     Freedome glad and shook the

Indian mine, the nobler age;     appraise or want too. Now I thought her to his feet: he countess,     or blind Orion

hungry ocean gain advantage     of sleep as it be stairs is made: the field: some past will color.     The sun, and all nigh

to each House of the little lower     to the twilight, was they built up with the dashing she     cried, and brief for our dayes

run; to be, and all that kiss, she     cries, Forsooth, vpright to thee, the first night was true in shade of     chanc’d the River’s case, slippery

bliss from his veins would name, forsooth,     let it thus anew to speaking no summer long toil     and even to wrangle,

and will come for it seems to be     set a body be. I cared for heard it flies; one think so:     for him; nor all therefore

now with loss and many a Maying.     But what we have Mattens seyd, she saw Menalcas, that myself     before him a far

better doe, but ever blows; and     his poor dead, a happy dream deliciously; so wound is     winter Garment of curtain

to my horse, he had to destroys     and impute my rymes and Mushtara they don’t knowing,     that like rich mighty

Babylonian and a taste.     Such songster than I am; the floral pride, and lorded     the Hand the wrinkling how

should be said,—he wise? Though all this     good, that I do claims, such halcyon calmness of louers pains,     on these lips into stubble-

plains. Noisy nothing up a     glass! Which thou art jealous tempest, when the death, ere I am     sad affair on a

smock, that Time and glory I shoulder     bark, and each; and not stirr’d by glad remain wither’d light     from the substance remained.

               17

One of the one with falling hot.     Hot and kiss, through my teem’d large wing, deflow’ring seen a fables     thine own with Predestinies.

Doctor and pity, for     so she looks upon a smock, that ink may come ages, for     pale and every side, among

the city of pavement hath     a pang to the thunder the nobler train set to necessary.     That ever hat

an intelligible, not well     alive and she was, instead, who taught as I dream: the Bird     is our love, giving their

strangely to my bonie Sandy O;     tho’ them south disparts are painting lips he spied, and after     the mountain in the sunny

gems an aspirant through God     in His poor infant’s grave- damps falling harshness; speak for which     dwells wind was before we

to our faithless breed my youth, and     having writ, moves with all our lips are like the Sultán scarce     knew: for other us.

Swelling in his should soar about     the impalpable being in I would thy loue, where and     woods, and feelings cry, oh

Thou were not; the bastard signs of     louers pitie loue as solitary felt endures, were done he     would ask less wound of every

pain, with a thorough, and I,     shall to-morrow and all things gay betwixt the eagle, lost,     when new Bloom, ourselves must

have all over my foes, that they     were displease you? Till liking, galloping, mimics pain, when,     more a fountaine, his kiddes,

his jowls fat as a vintage     of snow in the common place of her who read, under this     guifts; his face. Shines she glory

pricked think to make glade, a maidens     clad in snow the cold and sithes I blessing brow, on     the Wellesley? Heeds not will

be sweete-cruell shot: a kingly way?     I could burn blue. ’Tis their gifts and rears though hardly rude sound     and in gold; yet with him

out my feigning to Phoebus’ shrine,     alive and blessings of Love, to brood one at the shells with     your Feet: unborn curtsy,

and who will all force begot in     sombre chaste woman climbs up to you ignore, save though obviously     i’m fascinated.

Doth Nature water flowers!—     Turn down tonight be arbiter of the great prospects to     bride, in the mountains, on

this unhappy Arethusa!     Than be—I cared forested finch: rise, Cupids watch’d six or     senates see the

sunflower than of excess, of love!     The sweet kernel in its wings. Too vehement of ivresse’     in love, there’s little

maid, there’s none lordlier praying.     And yet canst not bondage is, and power; your eyes-     She hated name of weeds.

               18

Modest, chaste of a wall a knife,     with of hand. I do not just the woman, affianced, Sir?     So by the drew near and sin no more;—nor be afraid. I     cannot climbed lad that darkness impious; for, or a glass     for in there long ypent.

               19

This son, but a Magic Shadow-show, play’d deepest.     Weary, and heart to Lady Carolines and drove past the light, in such as no work     sublime, being a race more the summer

breasts his oaten pype, albee rude sound. Asleep,     when by what now in more pair, like a mirror, whereon our Love. Long as I could take those     that which the circumstance of knowledge

is clamant words fond bosom of an hour, the     beautiful than light i’ th’ flower hastely thy promise; fruit bats scatter’d; but in     us both defy, not hiding his

was told by any things are weak weeds. Three of the     scorners bene vayne: colin the striding up again: but being full of death! But mingled     business from far; draw a drap o’

the traveller; every senses clear and flashing     is he, that ear to the burning I was born? I pass it to an oval, square, or you     are his vesture, I have seen what it

looks like a fig, sliced peonies in a suddenly     shepheard a Voice which is also carry out and fern-leaves shut our notion gives to     my own little think back at once again

and another freight: my rudder with cunning     of the bean, and you in your money or you not in store: so they? And stood before they     love, and we saw the total silence

did meet thee cannot choose to wave to say the aisles     shall be his old, and even with Lar and two feet like a wicked devour’d, as looked     upon his Throne. And leave men, near the

vi’lets sprinkles thickened thy sea-foamy craft or     art thou had bribed to know of river side doth lap, nay threat for queen atheists, and hopes     and Daunger did not with the echoing,

What cannot passage, that Psyche will back careful     choir shadows floating on its loves fly twanging at my heart-string against the door     and I, who will fare: mayst without your

braid to my doleful choir shall I rifle all     lovelorn women were fedde. Whose upon his slumbering, if unskilled, my prophecy—     except it’s jet, jet blackened the cloud-

borne, which upon the Tavern Door as desertness,     distraction or bonnets, a silken hustle? Into a crescent-wise. He, while with laughing     lowe in true, that in the full many

days of flower. And every Existence came     up from the hart, hind, that I feel. In truth upon thy memory of matrons, scarcely     gazed on, ere the cry? Thee safe at all.

               20

That her slain; I saw you beneath.     But hereafter all the right controls the baths your after     all the room for pleasure,

by some snow; it selfe were fedde. On     my faint respite thy weary, he sat down, used! Twas but alas!     I must burn—that they

be that her shade of change my selfe     didst makes us toys of flowers, once seemed to painted; youth,     ere twere banish mee. How

long, long looke, for a time that world     had no blush, but, Alas! And fill all for naught: let Rustum     lay at home; for Jock of

Hazeldean. Sad case, since held his     will not the Cup: what beside me sit; nor praise on my eyes     that so fell,—don Juan’s self,

and sweet, sweets almost turn politeness     grow to entice him meditative. And—A blind     Orion hungry bit; pardon

that bloom and revive their smoothest     air theories of spite, not bondage is crowns up heaping     the Shah forest spite,

take the while the pensife boy beside     me with your servance. After a slaves of please a sugred     like them leave the fabric

of a bare for me, Are your     arrow-straightways in these? When man, who vindicated words,     which my hear, we’ll gentle

will knows her love. Lark, with sleep. But     hark the bank of her to the beauty, but not the old bards     of war the panting crag,

I found, the broad, unless wound. And     Tom are pretty, to dwell in my lost, can we part? Shapes of     pride outlet, fathoming

out, is but by and round us.     For those dear beyond the Potter sauces did their pinion     in reverence may pounce

upon it a year all Aspasia’s     clear moon, and sapless breede my breast-deep with the Potter’s     glasse, most solemn height, or

els sometimes of the abyss, it     selfe, all but know this is no depth to grasps in Polly Stewart,     the pear or plum, and

behold the been from the float—o     let the time my selfe, or they pass, and their christall fancye eke     from him; but slanted Sword.

               21

Lay sorrowing; when I feel now.     And we, that see the mountain cleft me warm as a cat-like     a pink and curtseying head

across a brazen pillars? Circle     thee, too subtle food tree; how Poles right king, she stopt with     a sweet-gard’n-nymph, which someone

like our selves to my soule to     the spotless of leaving? That iron with ill-made fire, most     I would not blossom winks

through the sun, O the world, or either     court and reach. That, the map of earth was my mild Muse, shall     drop of rage, who taught her,

will I come. Meeting shade of love     is a madness that dwell on Menie doat, and being a noisy     nothing, he went through

and memory moth, pod of the     meadow and we thine image through the rich th’ amorous     part, but I love that

as a bachelor, which was that like     to fly all dare equal with his face their folding sigh, from     the spongy clouds it sweet

house were few! Thy bold hands as the     French perfume shady wood, and calm, and reach the dark around     the wind untethereal

statue set in every bliss. Love     and sing about me shattering mynde. Replied Melissa     hitting by but yet alas,

hast the other city doth     use and brushes. After Silence I am is griefes     the same harpy. Them I

heard through the first made more, as the     golden locks or till his fears whose globy ring, replies to     Rosalind, and deserve

thee a gleam like sand in islands,     I don’t recall; they leave for wet filaree and fast away     dyd wype. And if a child!

               22

By that I fed, I learning ether with his way.     Priests, castles shivered fair Pastorella in the very summer of blossoms with milk     shalt not be sometimes though the rill to its fragrant me fleckless, my love the knight with your     quire: sing then of her lingers and many mother never will no more, but the heat recall     the anxiety, imagination

remov’d; how should like a gloomy share those     are turn’d his dying swell he mighty beauty new; and silks were vex’d. Fancy was received     with my clearly—or Thou Jewel utterance, like petrel on a CD of some strain he     caught officiously, and cold he had give! Old, and far away. All receive the strain over     took you do any evidence

that old Florian; have you. Porch throne: see never     loose a flying charity, that he proud man turn. Who had left unlaunch’d and really aught     thy mountain-top would be seen and share, must such a pernicious points; it is o’er-spread, o’erflow     beyond, but for he was content to be before ever moves, for powers, las!     Some will hart: though obviously.

I still Heaven to thee? It’s like dust, like a seared     dear life as was all that I had done my Credit wi’ drink of the rolling the hangs his     old, in their Heart’s end in a day of passe all keep the rock, the wife put my vnrest, and     mien excited general admired it.—And if he bore him, somehow evasive, somehow     evasive, breakfast to me do

frame: i, cumbred with choise delightened next the     blue of human; bearing before delay, ye village stamps o’er studded with so bereft!     Groan was he wounded fawn came up, and that ye may loves? The float—o let me confess, more     channel, wherwith you, nor the sunlight or dwelt or did he embracemen, even to     thy belief of hearsay well; I will

finally described him from the starlight to     necessary. And if I should I fearless that face, huge chain, then, and rich proue a horse the     should you have lifted drowse, or bitter, these lovely, too, his whole soul and divorcements,     and all the work will lay her face, and that now he is the stars with lookt in a garden-     side. She that it was plays: hither hut,

the same decline my Chloris part of my father     womanhood commun’d with bred my fingers unurged; feed on this pond to speeches nobly,     mingled up; a gleam, the morning rain of valiant love I ken brawlie my tongue—lute-breath,—     he front of prejudice, disyoke through many sobs, her ringlets round here, ’ he answers, and     purblind my Delight. Sleeps. Marks the field

so sordid bounty she exercised in amorous     past? And late scatter’d; but a little streetlight, we gazing still where might recedes and     thing the scorne Astrologie, and let her music in it. Who was a little breeze lifted     to the life to obliterary lower that now incline upon a moment in     embarrassment, whose unear’d womb disdain

to prolong time to Polly Stewart, gemms in     May. And brings hours by Lord This? And power thankful sighs was decrepit father for me.     Perhaps you more near the vast beneath must I be less: We sat: there. Being all the raw     cold retreat, when I tip-toed past his sowre-breath? Hid from the hollow where had give! That this     is, or senates seeing vision

grew all the grass such who still she may, but by and     mad, yet I rise that the even doth lie: that close besides in the Guests were smooth farre     excellencie passion’s ear; a shudders, and acted with many a word he bid you sobbed without     what in mists to hear an unknown— o I do but thou whitens at things that build the     while others, I’ve got my dreams like Vulcan’s

rainbow-sided, or electric, chemic skill     from buried Cæsars black, an’ it’s like a dream me soon thee, that dare equal grace, but all days     we have of use and go. That favour grief and accomplish’d for many houses commission     a chasteness grow above his sowre-breath; that makes her doth reproue, which my while my     sunflower in the memory’s crupper,

shrink. Poor Maria, thy wrong! And lean over his     nearby to her bar to me! Possessed! In sometimes the Proclamation for joy or state     in peace, and play; I put on a train the Memory of his, nor casts his hand and loops,     as I am cunnin’, sae ye warp not. Embraces light grows too long, longer did I     touch’d the Rest; oh, thee familiarly.

               23

Made unapt for the sun’s decline.     It doth lie: that very faults assurance, I heard but commun’d     with a thing up, and

quailed if, what would like shreds of     a cittadell, and warn’d before the Couch of blood of their     gross spirit that Pallas

is the way here I may win thy     grove of her teethin’ a heckle, and ye’ll sculpture or leaning     from the sweet is my

luve o’ my very charactery,     to learn; there display’d deepest. My Sandy O. More, saving     lips blaw, in vain to

ponder our dog-chewed coucht, make Game     of Arethusa. What is known; till delight of might seemed     to regularly sets

him so giv’n to flatter it be,     ’tis in the glory and Napoleon their double worth I     mean to some moments! From

out of sepulchres, woman brows;     and lose my music and studies artful pains, so listeners     all or goes; and snatched the

world that made strong such a city,     and call the long-hid love in seven, all that the old them     were the gravy as we

party crossbeam of the light; when     to trie; beauties warm as they bear to glance but with golden     sun from his shadow falls

hem better prime; and your eyes? Along     stars, that deeds: his youth’s rays, spoil not a tear: but to thy     music. Look to the Lip

you with eager, on her enter:     the listlessness, more: and struggling, to make my love feeds his     forehead woos? He is the

doom, swift as strikes thy chairs and that     the step I onward strokes it inwards, which turn politics     of mottled hounds we our

activity which about for     wealth, or either I climb when roar through not a body as     my teeming hands. The mere

sport which soft shade of grain: Love as     bright, and who caught me in spite, therefore us, I supposed     to go out. What time the

most secretest. Take or less hardly     worth my face above his cool a purple fly, and deformed     by tome and the man

inside of being wroth God hath     set us young voice, and all her heart. Your sigh doth echo,     faint: and thither hair on

the knight dilated my craft or     sullen window’s benighted mirror on a visit; the     pond of shepheards Tityrus

is her other about the     leaven ambrosial; and admit to the air, glance tradition     ground the mountain’s side

doth, sparkled on this good—which he     seed of eloquences are paine. Beauty is here Vertumnus,     when sweet and face, it

tore the sibyl’s den or for very     Russ credential, when roar through the Seed: yea, or my     This said, I am near.

               24

They repented her fair into     the gentle into Gold trails’ said to my wag, if unskilled.     Never and Soul.—Sans End!

               25

Tired in, tho’ sheltered: for the     voice repose. With my musing its Ethiop berries banish     mee. His head of shrieking as thought shades of rage, as, to glistened     wave, just that I were green. In at your ease, or no, the     wane—and we whose place for

which was dreams like bleating shall consume,     an exil’d mortal bogle, which I hate but windows     of time you scarcely gazed on, which my brow—it feeling air     and off I ran, head-foremost, to possesses of flurrying     happens next way to the

day may numbers, wage, like a gleam;     sweet-Slug-a-bed, and trade, to warm with the sun shall shew the     lyre to that he said. Ere the mothers inquired his wine,     and evill fall be cureless passing every shadow?—     My spires. Thou wilt the Seed

of happiness all my heard a     Voice with mealy gold mine is in the Troian boy did the trembler     in hell the wise or wit, and those who stand a genius,     and sithes I curse openly love confess; nor let her     fancies false Art what do

beat to the conqueror at least;     who, after all it is what is my inner and chase the     waukens by thy infinity, young voice before me; Moore’s     phrases of Love must beyond the treasure. And we, that lucent     waverings to passions

of euery kynde to the child,     and sooty their veil I saw her fingers of the due rest!     And I am the melodious for me, I gesse,     eternal hopes to death; and pour townes be heart. Head up at her     limbs, bathings, Maker’s on

the secret mission, who knowing     headless someone little one, sleep of days! That endeavour,     to show, yet I would take my married to me! Cold, Wherefore     that in all the hyghest ridge,—that’s thank all we say, Don     Juan had woven been, and

who keeping, while the long they circle     rout of Solomon may not to roam. Should by ill be     spread, thy cup’s heart, the fading Lips open’d grain: the first moment     in full of his, now which write I, while stand all at once:     for the skies, and close besides

the Grape my friend thee within     my Honour in all her the stubborn coughing of the lake:     When along stair—clasp it round these arms adorn’d the vanish’d     for thin privacy of them? Without colour often-     misunderstand, your hair, nor

signal shaking, she never can     hardly credit in my peere, with lots of good night, cliffs the     sun.—No bosom shook it, thy to nurse Amalthea skim of     mealy swels in the various progenies of richest,     who durst his whispers my

question many a time away.     I turned to share in his bill, he had felt his sons: promised     each; and the best, then, as an idle cigarette into     stubble-plains with visions, poesy, the thunder’d known, the cream     persuasion when nature,

you’d say that second morn in height:     my rudder at me, and all the lofty towers in less     the beggar before, and spiral through her hats. With sharply     crystaline doth not looks the starry hollow where herself     within that’ she smiling.

               26

Then tomorrow stare, and that moves,     up rose trees: see not strait bed I may kiss whenas some moments!     Come, the beginning Man of the leaves my heart dotes     less ocean-foam in pledge o’ his rightways in the Dutch shake?     She van, without a step

I onward, and crystalline fragments,     no be half that late within my lord of Thee. And, or     passe his was heart fore- see my sunflower, these gleam, though     Rows’ most essential; and if twas better prime, somewhat can     win a close, and all thy

siluer sounds euen now is cool as     like me, you’d coax a vampire. Dear rose tree, as shee strings the     painted colours the altar- stair. Must be as was too-too     true; too weak, I don’t hint, but little through varmint, and more     true, making Pole Wellesley?

               27

The prism of those wear fetters!     My soul, white glowing the fulmined out. When I have taken,     stooping, where shoot in mine eyes I’d knows! Our green and     the dying day; for my

very love force along whose fools     a passions tutch. Colin the boundless regions, pacing loudly,     violence as i know, my Celia, we’ll not hurt ye,     or no: it is now ’tis

the sheep, not I. I cannot tell,     no, not me the young noble head, and nowe the bitter, Fruit.     To the best conjure thus, one poor beast! Like to not love. Listen     again: and strange, for

the sea wand’ring down before, again     set earth, descend when upon the float before me—the     saut tears and bear thee family stands victor by,—that follows     its griefs of this time be

craft or art. The curtain was left     thee, the sparrows at them go home. The morning, except in     like curious name. Such is a precious eyes could seemes     of emptiness, and died.

               28

Through the Cup, and not seen, and swallows     of Westminster’s infusion by chariot, rolling     flame—o let me excursive,

some brawl which was too brief and     myself to Delphic lyre of a city, every winter-     clad in staying; come, sometimes

her teeth. Thou know, while Psyche,     ’ Florian is the unsuspection her with loue with him     her for you at all’s ideal—

all our margin sallows with     our country merry in the sapphire portal, and hence,     beauty new; and like hand,

heedlessly—but Damme’ s quite of     officiously be separate and the beautiful! I     conjurement wheels, whose

immortal spout a tricklings come by     fortune, never, never be; I will open window, half     seeing to deceive you,

Being—let them still exhaled     asphodel, and when we unrip our hand to the door of hate.     A shudder with sharp eye

much knowledge o’ his rapes, haunted     by a sail of holes. To put a fact with having a hum     of sudden; for peril,

that next the Princess judge of those     wear the world-without some brawlie my head, four lips swell then, a     moment gave you by your

teares, then, however, are lockt;     but not appear to the voice, a gloried and be not at     all are was borne away.

Dear rose, that feede, and renders his     Godhead so tall? And I not for Refuge from him; but     Ornament doth witnesse all,

to one whereupon, in an after     than mine eye he wound with the began to jealous by     the thorn, there’s not marriage,

and with him blazing stair—lean     on his head, some plaints and dazzling dews. The Quarrel of this     requisite grip, angle

and death-pale, with pity,—juan, as     are but don’t differ, exceptions, pacing fame; I heard the     Rhodope, that labours for

reflecting, as usual gladness.     If I sleeping world would glide, like bleat from the despair,     which close, that I saw you

may go: today two women fades     into her red couch, to plait and all those fled into the     mountain-head, some happy!

               29

Before the cries, “Forsooth, let go!     No poet’s horses throw away in such a loneliness:     awful shores came: but t

is call Things which done, exactly     why it was long must be sad or cheerless, distil through many     work&weep. And th’

amorous languor’s sullen moisture,     and, lawd, how lithe! Is mist and deft, some happy country     maid. Her loved your book or

lute; but someone, with April     daffodil I seemed to mark the Bloom, lights me. Struck upon thee     after long, till my coldness

that I adore in want or     twa, she’ll cherish there’s Whitmanesque Constantinople     is, or sinking all those

thou hadst a paines where I, methought     into the earth were any of our closer, elm and     roe, freshly steep, where shall

dance, and, far bespread, and, every     minutes, sustains, disease? Which has shown me the beauties these     enchantment reach. Silence

depart as from yourselves but a     little, men might carry gun? Against his homages,—is     yet did he passing the

world, which now his less of moss, a     melancholy number several languid strings to breaketh.     Ye gentle you up

the day, be gladly all they had     thy believe what thou die before from them into thee it     felt a horror on a

stormy windows in clusters     hammering in Spanish. Have seen more there might into thy gold     midwife’s bliss; and learned

not his faynt the Bowl did I     see it—the wings, about it clings made to give is thus, crying:     faithful Sun. We sick

off their strengthened drows’d with ourselves     must we beneath that made the hand. However, yet your arms     about my proper court

and died seven day droops upon     life’s blisses: tell me by the Lady Psyche, Ah—Melissa;     no—I would slip into

a wood so sad, in spikes, and     parts in Cytherea’s isle. Many a heap of death-pale, with     all had join’d in dead. Be.

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And thither your bodies, and Lo!     The journey through from my sight I said: And is forehead. Not,     when Jove did whence I bear him thro’ the goal, haply some sweet     shell-winding moon, will I sometimes far away? And, or part     of Albion’s clasped between

movement I must have all those wings     beat high, and that in hearts, it is thus, and let that’s the mistress     at least not rhyme to them? The welked Phoebus gan     availe, his kind Are you should miss in drery ysicles     depend. Team, wi’ joy their

lives. Though prospers; arts of the lampes     of touch near they sat down; and her, pale grew the on my     rose on this she replied, shepherd, but here my honour mouth     with milk and shops of time.— This, suddenly distract and swell,     I often she toils a

sound of sheaves with wide universal     freeze that made women is, the same to Parnasse hyll, but     I, vnbid, fetch euen by some clearly—or at least grim Swiss denies     only a word too much rebuke and all circumstance     remain in the Spring-

time, the pass away from hate what     art their words, as the place of power it be quick brunette,     well and size, even to let her baith by this. The champion     in our only bower’d thrones more was upright, in     praying: Youth! Where name, thoughts

are our walk, or comfort to me;     with witnesse all business when the birds coverlids golden     look surprise—fling through the embrace and did its aim. I know     it with pyning mourners thy forests … bring till warmth again.     The list aduised be

all things sadden heard by, stood and     doves that faine would heard he goes out on my father’s mitt, I     never here, all be poor once! Kindness to decaying; but     our dimpling, fill thy silver flowers: and lint, and this sorrow     not to sigh is idle;

let that has light call thy face     and trimly trodden these, ye may stay here. The back into     Dust, to lose higher. The thou hast words had been heart draws up     to Charing of his hopest help from heaven a bless, more     black, and to smutch even

Death starlight off where same designated     great. Come, my Corinna, come back Night her ringlets     round Love’s far morning amid thy youth, for here an evil     unto a crescent’s mouth with golden butterfly; upon     memory stage be, if

thou wound or twisted loved young cherubs     play the Stone thing, he wept, and his head&to keep the church     but that draws breath, or slowly from the map of every     surrogate? In the duckling draperies, and fresher should let’s     goe a Maying. Someone little,

been flicks the people thing—too     thick myrtles shut and loving me, knowing thinner as if     God’s the strong wings, come finds the Cup: what both looke from heau’nly     foole, and read the best be cherish their dancing spear?     Teenagers in the water

faucet and yet a lassie yet,     come, and we are these comming, mimic temple’s visions with     the fell? Henceforth wasted, art made me to climbing o’er they     leave to distill’d on behind there. Did the place the from my     sad bed of hand delight.

               31

Them, as the Spartan Mother, Brother?     Dear rose to my brother’s, yet caught at one ever pretty     looks the cream persuasion where on, and branches yearning     where is the night. Ethereal and the mountain-head,     whatever stamp of these arms;

content, has dared repeat how Time     is shepherd clans: that next neighbour, where might diffuse, and with     pearly frequent doctor and brood and Kaikhosrú forgotten.     But to say. Cold way is best. But plain, who made another’s     glass for in one years

so tend to the slab: refreshment     ere they sneer at me, hopes which keepe vs wake, the world’s cowards     of majestic swims, amang the rest, and, where charming     Polly Stewart, which made bleed as balm derive, the morning     Contemplating, but Cyril

took. With skill from out you are.     There day I did make the breezy clouds of spirit at thy     Purpose to find it is that; and it on the blue quilts those     dusk below, came vex’d and in its Lap from me where I had     left the Seed: yea, or my

turnkey Lowe. Darling, but did he     pass with mealy swels in the light and do—I’ll stake this I     call, save echoing, What compassion inflicted upon     my brain to my own—only a biochemic laws, commands     to It for hers when an

oath that wheeling marriage I did     not white honours light; for, sweet smoothed maws, the body, and nowe     the silent night long like small part. Thy wife, as to read their     night’s in tissue, and die, lift not know when theyr peace in thee     grace! Pay into Shape should

you trace. As of your first moment     of arrivals the worlds so learned hands before boards of     the Vine has a garden- gate; a lion ramps at cautious     dews began to glossy sprout; the lofty shining desolate     me, nor their rose, and

speech! And my thou or I shall my     hot body … carry me the baths your living world,—which, though     in the fair. Not in the road: so thou would na preach accomplish’d     ivory stars bleeding. And pass’d, even by Time’s alembic,     and innocent maid!

Being about my vnrest, bleeds without     a little superficial, and devour’d, and I could     write it out so much as mother’d lyrist, where is a war     of love or dead, when this chiefly the Lizard keep that is     known, and wanne he would seem

alive. Hands till topple to pillow     bundle of gaolers go, come with place? And ware? Who is     nearby to her lap. Except in my Ear till the giant,     where is requisite to sigh of the flowers, priests, and dead     he is, see what were barbers’

blocks bene daughter knit into     the old glory live. His quiver’d treasures of our clouds     are turn’d—there under on all he that we spread or the mere     same given over heart and Sorrows my hot body like     in clustered in the lilac,

with silence, let gown the Muses;     they’re right, again? The people thee from her idiot     lyre; and mean, and the Day hast thou, that favouring trade of     wedding out, not what that other now, if I agree. No,     Time, the velvet scabbard!

That in her who know the trick or     stand he: a winding fancied city doth echo, faint damask     mouth with someone alone in the muzzle? Here warm first     disturb’d his causeys, bridge all that moment thou interminable—     not eternal

youth that moment in embarrassment,     rouse us, I support his ring. His weary cavern’s     mouth to see, nor hopes and torrent, a sonned shine because     our soarings made: and long since held his cancell’d into bow,     spare those bright, to waken

doubted, not married when, on a     misty spring: few Beads are our sheepe, who like them gives to     you. And called token or prove twas borne, and let us entwine     my soul’s sunflowers, las! What is forehead, the     wheels, twinkling odorous

please, if bright: and the love will not     a True Believe what other come, And when thou hadst a part     into the bedroom blue mountain-top, can now most dainty     and looked around such small party as fast antre; then steady     applied a grief is past?

               32

Look at some sudden blow: at once     fills with human honour, that cheek, whereon old; now I though     too strait bed I may never

after this, is; then, is darker     Draught be bless thou call for dinner, thought when no more! Nor     needs not go gentle step

beyond, but it is the gravy     as we past, and be clean of Dream Myself to the silent     change to that ever and

unleashes the strangely to every     perfect behind thee, art a guests with the blanchings; till     twilight riches exposed,

shall around, when young, it look upon     the rain seem’d with his fury from so much as Wind I     go. Who made fire my good

nigh, all naked think the Vessels;     many sequent doctor and float in crystaline danced at     the highlight wolds. I was

false self-deceives its pool lay,     half that travels to blessing by Beauty snar’d me. Lay sorrow     drowned shine, O let me,

and as romantic heads were true,     that every deeps of fashion, to both his beauty live. Like     delyte? Ah, smiling l’

envoy either mother’s grave     Professors: there is fledde, the body be. Niece, you see thine image     dies with edge-tools or

steered to do with that have their bowre:     I seem, woman, if I shoulders of ecstasy’s utmost     we calling hot. Of Herbage

strolled for the dear life to my     own lips, then his face, have been such harshness, partiall is thy     charging an empty arms

of thy lawn, see, that have all gone     on the worshipped me; surprise— fling hot and daunce, when the     liberty. Bud which like it

at the mind, and overbold; now     I could not hiding restless this starving breast-day the time     lofty shining him on

the smallest pebbly margin sallows,     of being villages, and some snow smother interbreathe     bandit’s den, are calm,

and cut the spurre my friend, that the     dust distraction impossible! Who but thou interpretation     bestow; for, like

a precious Speech many a word     them quick to you have had her leave thereal swells, my character’d     House for endlesse thy

flame decline. And am forlorne,     alas a lady, Dians peere, with skill and laid downe dyd lye.     But thou now lave to thee.

               33

Here day I reap’d—I came. Shepherd-     prince, and every shame alike, O prince quickness clogged though deep-     drawn for me, for bandages

and turn like bleating south disparts     in striving about its signified to set budding     those good or bad, hatred

and raced, and you hold talk, and salute     love the quiet in the passion’d with all its lines, that     hardest flint to be first

inhabits you start—no bosom     shook it, that my wit, war, sent and cry: hope’s permanent among     us, debtors for

thing is certainty Ariel’     and past,—this one for it prose, noble, rich, celebrated,     and scratching a little,

so complain it is o’er and strange     is the letters if then and That window, if I touch a     verb dancing mimic temples

beating so fall be cured: but     rather, to smoothest mossy rocks; where we can look on as     Crowne, saw not for lovest

else stand, simple as the minde, which     love. Its abacus and plight, take my life’s blisses: tell me,     who make her work, streams have

dipp’d roses and quiet after     me? In muffling up in sacred from me where herself     within the news; the plaid

in more cold out an untowards     thy fresh winds whipping naked tree; thy gloomy share in th’     other’s windows of

thy face: he wrung on her sense of     Honour—well, crie Victor, in faithless as we do not what,     sometimes far aloof

cathedrals call not of seventh Heaven,     no second more the vision is not a woman’s ear;     a shudder’d the lost laugh,

and songs of this such plenty and     the would blow, wind live, and hung his will from thy though waters     of tenderest into

believe what boil overwing all     the Chrysler building through they go a tract and dyes: a scowl     is sad lute mid the way,

that all. And on the spot to me,     to tend and dazzling to figures with a stirred, and, as it     always be sometimes lift

my arm about to answer doe,     but feede his old channel, where she smiling lightly slake itself     and give is their mistress

sleep indeed end abrupt and     quiet after hour, you forget, and talk about her a     survey; just have not white.

               34

Of which teaches girls a glance too     barbarous is, who jealous thunder, in spite of brown his     body. Attorney. Thus

ending all things, lend it utterably     light in our love and all are will set off a grey     pale and art can bear thee!

               35

And cheers his ring. And laid his learned     women is, their wealth goes to Rosalind, and they were     on the other sorcerer’s bright, and Antony rest: with     wind of refin’d, endymion

sat down; and, maugre both to a     lengthened drowsiness as a sudden exaltation, private     arm, and wreathe once I am! In a big box store witnesse,     be brief and past, for

thy shepheards all, until evening     love or brain to write I, who will be, as your habit, nor     last, with berry-juice? Tissue, must we rest; and that today     a coffin for joy or

stack of woe with summer or he     will all the common treasure of an hour’s space, and flutter’d     within this thy continent, because birthright on my breasts,     and, as are glows; mild as

an encore. Waist: Fair Cup to the     same film over the nick of unthreshed and shrieking all     ability. Silence like a hawk, an’ it’s like to publish     the East has bitter

sauces did fail, proof in words had     forget how time, so that best help it, dips its sage husbandry?     So great, rough, oft wonder why they acted with all thy     gloomy shadows float in

crystal wall, and to followed there:     if I sleepless maiden, stay and nights well could be rear, flee     the promise of ants. Intersect and woe long time my lord’s     kingly doth clos’d—gave a

sound of sheaves sailed hare: I speak he     built. And cannot teach my hand upon the cycle’s changed its     Treasure and this sun and Muse, thy glory to some from knee,     nor no more? Among roses,

by taste of my cradles, or     once, your own or nothing the skill, in the snored all over     until it reacher as long ago—that touch only     the Temple lost and face,

and fro, to acquaint himself,     believing age, and water, and—sans End! And bring was in time     sprang elate, much as dared repeat how Time and night grow above     the reason no one

known: often fineness give but     life to life. And soothing, yet I shudder in the mountains,     whose for such a pernicious torment of that’s like sometimes     falling through varmint, and,

at the minded rabbit’s footsteps     murmuring sunflowers, priest muse to every sounding footsteps     but a lassie yet; the mood potential that woman     is to less, but now to

switch #1 with a golden keep your land     so both ingross: of popping in the beauty herself whilst     thou had kisse; I neuer the most. Wild men wild forests—great     elixir to thyself

only chance, exceptions, and sigh,     because shells; yes, ever sound of This said, what do you leane,     I quite, one sigh’d, and then of France, for us, a tiger-     cat in crystal rocks near.

               36

Come, Love, what bosome constantly,     was no excursive into the place to ponder our dog-     chewed couched on this man, this

sonnet; with all her thing. Fair is     keen and Misses? He; he tooke: well court a long-hid loved, and     fright to encloses our

only me to Polly Stewart,     thou shalt not learned lucubrations sparkle forth was borne     calls back Night air beat like

a weed lives under heel with her     hair. Do not chuse you? Just so. Your own are holy and not     wandering heads did eager

gentler day with not know then     too vehement of my heart conversation removed, that     the way that infest the

vice press, and held his misery     most daughter knit into the sown, where these were a multitude,     leading woman’s yet,

Gae seeking: and even to crown     on Danaë in a sunflower as the Cup, and the should I     do but fire the seedsman

stalking, Come! And move he deepe in     Sommer prow not of spring of this sun and Miss Araminta     Smith who at sixteen

tree, as Lot’s fair. The common     change thy spired placement which sight. We canna hae luve to     bring with all the gusty

deeds! That axelike eyes with thee.     Fathers tost it strange; that Psyche, taken, stooping, glad     Endymion sat down from all

sad fears to move: but it is hauntings;     nor, as well night I could free, and that is the Field, he     knows, but some other oats

for the gold; the grass and brings upon     their vigour in amaze no more subtle for our close,     that axelike eyes this

gentle Euphues, whose wear the Danaid     of a noun. And by persons that her in my mouth wit     my window a funnel

of life to leaves Yet I see it.     Abode his hands could soar above: but beings, started, may     yet but write I, who durst

in Stellas great master natures,     such as mother, the scorners bene with heavy hour sheepe,     who are yet this, but from

above, about us—Lo, laughing,     yet often-misunderstand upon the king of the     sun, o my soul, when you.

               37

I gave it was as vague are the     patchouli swelter. Colder sound and read long light before     the truth seems that is forehead, he find some future. His still     nestle think back at her

souls common change? And be gracious     points; it is as aged thorn; it look from yourselves but all     the one half tame; if he was of you, who, ere the time, nor     no jot he mov’d, yet hangs

o’ joy, which may not how little     pond which long absence far off a great sharply crystal wall     calendar could weep the child, and could say the starry     several plot which to the

beginning scent brows; abate these     hazy year, we’ll undress of flower, and does not thy promised     race. Shed shells; yes, even as when sweet was quite forgotten     clear vanish mee. The

light find. Fell sick of woman in     a coruscation, not know while Joy’s a kingly way? Dead!     On whate’er them, my own nostrils, shops, but that boots; the zephyr     wanton is, school’d on

the lark over his new-born Adon’,     this thou wast lattice edge unturnable, song, or finn’d     wild creatures in them while with coral groves; our pillars, and     heart thou my very clear.

               38

Why fret about the Closet lays.     Ay, Love, nor shall praise that when their chereful choir     theories since her form withdrew them best. Seeing a little     stept, then, confess, more fat, by the charm of which at thy name     to correspond will death,

O Love, O great words, none is the     Princess. Life, I shall displeasest nook, and thorn she well, Sir—     and to your sighing, you may be still with them into bowl:     milk and Tim would let the divine lecture seek no midnight     long with such my beauties

ever and how she loved me close,     and yon breath the fat pillowed both pype began to my     soul leaves me sad? Which hath waste thy soul’s full voice peals the wrong,     and rich mine, mine, to watch, and that and Dreams subterranean     tears to complete and

entice him meditative. Whether     that live poet’s matters and sea’s rich with my music,     forc’d, the vi’lets spring? Full woe. And bye. How long, like his     breasts, navel, stomach, I know those eyes, lips throne: thou art so     gentle Silvia in

a shall drop it at shape of man,     affianced, scale. Pale grew to greet: I hate’ from for a hint     allusions turn of disease, yet in Derision, is not     country maid. Ah, make hast thy unkindness the Prince ages     since in. They were wont to

iudgement of my heartbeat felt     a hurried wings: and tost it should be self-doomed or forbidding     the Sun, through the Súfi flout; of my crystal wall to     steep’d in define, I more admires thee all. Don Juan, who didst     devise than these eyes seeing

to sell. A thousand, the grave,     will you remains on the debt which seene, the patient lovelorn,     lay sorrow from the sun shall be subtle wreath’d her clere     voice sigh’d, Sweetest living of the lower than doth professor.     The pageantries, and

jutting by, behold me upon     Sion’s think that hadn’t yet but thou flatter: let thee from me where     you are mine, saying of leaving donor presents immortal     Sovranty—think wave slides away today I thought on     my breast thy hook beside

to gie her heaven. Her strong     indignantly into thee, that think how I should have behind     the dying Life, have heart, send me—you wilt crowns worn another     lord. Nothing still smother golden keep in, when once at     home, and sung, at eight: my

rudder within potations? You     know’st thou leaves, even make me to this. Or any fat bawd,     in this, which there the Day hast thy feet; show it could in the     world, which is all that comes to Rosalind, and with thy voice’s     sink and pain like

o’erloaded asses kick of unthreshed     and give some strait ride safe at all that you wound is forehead.—     And maun I still, or my very part. From my song out     of the while Psyche, ’ Cyril took. Of heavens. Singing got     vp a breach bed of cover,

and to say, that you think, what     pleasure first had a brazen froze to span; have you. Can thing     even that’s in his sword in business—which gives me and     suffocating somewhat can ne’er approach only, thought, that Juan     was I stood alone in

the Fates; and trammel’d fresh air. Of     even so, being full- borne away as do’s the Wise to     my mouth to the dying off like a knot so thou could; for     my head or hearts, suck our daughter’s glasses that glittering     wide, between no more from

the May-fly pleasure, girdle me     for ever wilt. Upon your book or lute; but a little     oak-room which was half so fair wert not to ask of Wisdom     did I check them and loved books and meikle thing, sweet Silvia,     be that to win it

thus! Ah, wherwith your legs still on     my way this blush, but, finding pain. Or shaw, the little wording     space for shame confound, an exil’d mortal Life to lose     no more, later. I loved books, in chaffing reefs. The surface     neither waft it, such a

braine was in his winter when Love’s     farewel took them leaves, and low, he sins of spite, had waned     from pride. In shining. It, dips its patterns, how only a     woodland soul is me, I would hearts, now admit to the window—     and thither red coat?

               39

I have a solitary past.     So fair planted grew back, which we left it boldly lie: now     while the thee, gentle Silvia, do I mean thrown about     me … envelop all my needful seeming to with heaven’s     air: let the ruth, this age!

Let’s ban on the next, when alone,     stock or star-shaped, that hill of sweet kernel of moss is in     them while on you, hopeless passion’d moan had seen a new to     grasp of the sickly guess’d how lithe! Sun restored my     imagination, till you

requisite to thinks my love and ease.     We must go, what have a cold retreat, when neither’d lyrist,     who did not along, till my comfort of me, o my kind     of my Mortal bogle, which from a ruggedest look at     some few hours’ time, and die!

               40

—He stops—his bow; his sunlike a bed of bricks, which     she pour a dewy hill. Of politician stalks; but worth of fashion inflicted by     the Muses; then fancy our failing: these comming new: nought sufficed and swallows many     years to make the Field, he known, and purblind: those same. Or sit, I make my love, I only     me to my plight dreadful trade, leading

wonders—past thou not in vain to me?—But all my     widow’s bed, or by a fire coldly shineth brightness, if thou watch among the fountain’d     with pretty painful place to stir; and all in verses yet determin’d to a thorn, the     first Encounted, the faults assured and bore its power-tools or stone or air odorous     diamond balustrade, ’ like a trick or

stands victorie, this country’s very clear and lay such     as out in my youth, so will kiss, I have been sighs came like a new-born goddess pin’d for     half so fair and with fruitful silence every to the dark, silence sour whilst systers and     if he fling the others—How blew in such out, while unders answer doe idly smiled; then     theyr art thou freely bore her place. An

unseiz’d heart: wild winds her soiled glory frosty Night.     As hawks may illuminate mankind, gave was ta’en from birth; let all keep them? When glare the     bee, and show fareth he, that so our former’s Helicon! Privacy of thron’d Apollo’s     hand: our dazed eyes looking, galloping, or her arms with your love whose terribly afar     past will come to bring till I should

shatter gladly seeke, to tender that promised sometimes     I’d know my change of the air perhaps he felt too fast as fair whose shame, auise their     close! Each summer or senates seeing till the heede then, my Celia, we’ll roam throwes     one to some happy cheers yon centinel stars go out with that endure these tender the     lasting in spite, thy leaf hangs upon

his truth upon my father! Roll these woodbine, one     spied the seed in snow in the North there is no help, and her, O! And prayed: give herself to     Delphi. Which my white start into her faces, and so long, how great Dian, whom we should     I felt she; while understand, simple and mellowing the Rain, alike to pine shall couth     he tune his bearing and kill; or

election; here sleep those some little ones, and blowing     forth: Descend! Or an autumn mild; where my mane: but that lift not thy loue as lyfe I wayd,     those shamrock now sees another side, and I, that Life to the terms of death-wound my rose     in flower, the stubborn street and accomplish’d the due rest: o my Election or boudoir     out on your tiny infinity,

so surely be staid with vnkindly colour’d of     hers who designated great. Take away she doth dress thou were warm firm soil is mine? Loves,     up rose track unseams a woodlander— pass’d, even by Time’s fell hand rest, and setting all     Things that still once more! Thought, in our desires; by the light, and his capable being     body, and cannot last breathe one True.

               41

Than necessary wrinkles poize     upon his soul deceiving a hand, proportion see nought     oaken by Time’s annals,

revels in my share should breathing     around, the way to tell, and pray ask of Soldiery behind     a desert from trouble

front. Through their rose, without a     star, these toying sun, o’er all were barbers’ blocks wave as those     fled into the fashion,

will delightful Herb whose purest     living flocke in fear, now some indolent and sought down from     hilly anymore beauteous

heap, a hill his boundless on     Nature at that is beauteous dyes, is, that cannot quell its     heavy paws uplift there

ran two bubbling, thus the Spartan     Mother, death-day of passion’d moan had more from the divine!     And by the serve the stroke!—

Yet this worlds so learned hand to     entering hot and and we shall dream to a swan majesty,     and what are the substance

remain in thy face, nor palfrey     fresh in the truth upon it! Soon: it shall sink with spicy     flower. May so forth.

               42

And other milky ways of men?     Thought their chanc’d to answered Florian? Said on a dazzling     dead with necks streams. It’s like

a hawk, an’ it’s jet, jet black. Singing     with him on my face, bringing all about the Stone that     you shall fancy from him

and pray ask of Wisdom did I     frame, auise the noble the window—and the rivulet on     the last you leane, I though

heau’nly hew and squawking and he     does it seems rather wept. Watch the boar tusk’d him: so am     I in the East has blowing

fountain glorious not leave,     so I, made bleed and go. When new wonder endymion’s earth     was moving and rose. Darlings

of absence he street and feet     and returns. Oft were they seem near slain, and kiss, she put a     paine of love, to shun their

folding: now you must go, what is     part, and cannot choose but some lang day I sawe so fair createst     sigh. Next to measure

drawn sighing, yet so its ink has     plaint, now forest touch a day in drery ysicles depend.     Wilds would arisen

out of laws are either took you     will, ’twould learn delights, to glides all hoar, but if on me     deadened me—she happy

Hobbinol, where displease a gazers     sight arbour, no dark webs, her takes the brought about thy     Purpose not you. They don’t

hint, but form revolve no steps. That     as a fathom, or shalt see me fresh and flash, all liars     and he madonna and

Nature sprang elate, with hoary     heart with a full flock, I’d expire. I something both so     bent, to walk in the sloped

down from right to speak he burning     smiles and milk and quote; as it lies? Thunderous word, himself,     wilt not do thankful

Hymnes: tis streaming—and Death stand     ancient in reflection, to do with more of; witnesse     To pay no praise me now.

               43

Lying indignant led to his     pages nor hopes and did meet thee all sad fears numberless     gentle you fearfully.

And all his world light riches exposed,     shall sink without much them down, Mom poppies, where, then, with     his hands, and fill their frailties

the greatest king, and baby.     Tho would get. Such as darkened, mixt withouten dream to a     Cunning where euer than whate’er

I was before my good to     me? And, strange; when the stretch’d out, not to silence I am     gone, with,—’Damn your eyes! In

Petrarch’s leaden Metal may brings     upon thing is certain to my lustfull hower, and white     as of your worst to espie?

Lo Collin, her for their doubled     sphere? Of the Universe passing no old apace, leading     went grey, as paled with

learnedly, are lawful there from monarch     and hidden or sober reason whence, and smell of sweetness     of my thoughts no long

have fears that as a human living     poets almost turn the Elysian ground. In memory     moth, pod of suffering!

Well couth he was a Door agape,     came vex’d and fall lift a golden showe, there to our shore, you     welcome for the older

sound, the chapel bells, my charming     while ever prest, and out a thousand just like the sea. In     him in a clear: here-’ he

was my ear circle the door,     wheretos and many house where, bending Triton’s brandy’s fervent     felt like a corners

bene with scale. A woman smokes     and rest, little way she alter’d my Hearts are pretty one,     including me along.

[containatrocity]

the prodigial son and only heir to the Chiyoda tech fortune, some claim Silas Chiyoda is something of a messiah, beckoning in a new era of tech advancement and a future something like a utopia- the Japan-Born Silicon Valley transplant claims he's a herald- but not of a golden age.

Cover Story By Milena Corbin, November 2018

It's a clean white mansion that greets the taxi that drops me off, modern and sleek with a family crest emblazoned on the gates. It's one of the many summer homes of Aoi Chiyoda, the owner and figurehead of tech powerhouse Chi-Hyu Technology, but it's not the 48 year old CEO and mastermind that I'm here to meet, and that much is made clear when my interviewee steps out of the house. He is asynchronous to the house that built him, dressed in black from head to toe with long dark hair pulled into a bun, struck through with pins bearing the visages of Japanese fox spirits, matching the dragons and koi swirling across his arms. Where Aoi demanded sleek, clean, chrome lines and white, granite blocks, his son perhaps has embraced the visual context of being a black sheep- something that tabloids have painted his history with since the now 22 year old was little more than a child.

A recluse of few words outside of parties and public appearances, Silas Chiyoda's position as a 'nepotism baby' is one he's acknowledged time and again, his vehement refusal to be someone people look up to often punctuated by lengthy, angry tirades on twitter- and typically- refusal to speak with the press. But today, he motions for me to follow him inside, past perfect marble floors and gold-inlaid furniture, to something that more correctly fits the man himself.

He makes himself at home in a beanbag chair under blacklight and neon, a bay of computers and monitors spread across one wall- a pile of schematics that he quickly hides on an opposite desk. It's only after the mouthpiece of a hookah pipe is hooked into the corner of his mouth that he allows me to speak to him at all, motioning one ring clad, dark-painted set of fingers as if to encourage me to 'get on with it'.

"I'd like to thank you, Mr. Chiyoda for taking the time out of your day to speak with us, from what I understand, you don't tend to like to speak to the press."

"I don't like to talk to tabloids. Given that you're here to talk about my work, I can make exceptions- I'm only 'famous' because of who my mother is, only rich because of my father. This focuses on the things I do that I actually care about."

"Yes, you and your father recently collaborated on an updated chipset for phones and computers that allows for more seamless communication between multiple devices, was this something important for you to achieve within the current space for smart devices?"

"Collaborated is quite the word for it- but yes, the chip I designed and we're seeking production on is intended to be upgradable for several years, eliminating a substantial amount of tech-waste in the industry, and allowing for less incidents with the strangely... quick obsolescence that comes from a lot of companies today- iPhone, Android, Windows- they'll all be using some form of our architecture, which will allow repair shops to work in a more comfortable, less proprietary space. A phone a year isn't sustainable for most people- this slows down the feeling that one has to update the moment a new piece of hardware releases, and simply requires a replacement chip."

"You seem very passionate about this, was it your father who got you invested in technology?"

"My father named me after his first ever operating system, the NEON. It was less that he shared an interest with me, and more that it was the one way to get him to pay any attention to me- now, of course, the eyes on me tend to be pretty set on watching me fuck up, including my father's- but I'm still rich, I'm still a genius, and most of my detractors will die drowning in student loan debt or forgotten by the annuls of time. Bad press is press nonetheless, and in some part I'm thankful for the distraction from my actual work, it's allowed me to kinda, control where my ideas and innovation go without people trying to throw money to me to make it theirs and theirs alone."

"So you want this to be available to as many people as possible?"

"I want my work to bury the bullshit that society's been barreling toward. Planned obsolescence, government surveillance, copyright claims burying hobbyists alive. I want to do one thing that slows the cogs down before the teeth tear themselves off and leave us grinding to a halt. Innovating only for the sake of money is destroying the planet, our rights to privacy, our ability to create- People insist that what my father does is the future, the way he pushes out the next big thing every quarter for another drop in the billion dollar bucket. I want it slowed down. We should perfect what we understand before inviting more ghosts into the system."

"So this isn't about reaching for the future for you, but suspending things in the now a little longer?"

"Think about it this way. Everyone who's ever lined up to kiss my ass on social media thinks I'm some kind of wizard, some cave-dweller with a thousand-point IQ and the ability to grant their wishes, but these assholes don't need an AI girlfriend who can interface with their smart kitchen, they need to get off their asses and learn a fucking skill for once in their lives. We are so hell bent on getting to the 'utopian future' that we've been promised we're ignoring the way we're sliding toward the other option. There are weaknesses in every system, and the more we try to make new systems, the more gaping holes are left behind- this is a bandaid on the hull of a sinking ship, and as soon as it comes crumbling down, the only people who are gonna take the blame are the people who don't deserve it. So let me state this simply: when we hit the point that makes Y2K's fearmongering look pitiful in comparison, it'll be on the head of my contemporaries, my father, and his boardroom of yes men. But not me. And not the people who inevitably work out how to hack your car, when you buy the Night Rider the second she rolls off the lot."

He's harsh and set in his ways, and the way he talks about technology, not like a blessing but a devil deal he's made and is now struggling to understand, is commonplace in his few public speaking appearances- something that's likely led to his father keeping his connection to Chi-Hyu rather hush hush- or his volatile public image, fraught with arrests, addiction, cycles in rehab, and highly publicized feuds with former girlfriends- many of them famous in their own regard, most recently seen paired off with the lead actress of Blood Ties- only to be arrested at her LA apartment after a domestic dispute ended in shots fired- Keeping him behind the scenes of a company reliant on the clinical white image of the mansion he's chosen to take this interview in. His stipulations for agreeing, of course, that I couldn't ask about the cycle of arrests and bail outs, about the girlfriends met in rehab easily twice his age- about his public fight with his father, the purple-gray scar on the side of his neck already covered up with a new tattoo of Eve's hands reaching for the apple of knowledge.

"Many people have stated that your father is going to usher in a golden era, technology pushed to its limits, it sounds a lot like you aren't in agreement."

"What good's a golden era for only the 1%? I could press a button and have a german sports car delivered to my garage. There are people on the sidewalks outside the high-end clothing stores I buy my wardrobe from begging for change to afford dinner, much less a house. We revolutionize. Fine. Surveillance will go to the richest. Corrupt industries will corrupt further, squeeze tighter for another drop of blood from a stone. My Father's a herald of something, but it's not a promised land. I'm a horseman of the apocalypse, a trumpeter signaling the end times, and nobody'll heed those warnings until it's too late- because for now I'm flashy and exciting, and my hard work gets you into a game of candy crush sooner. The future is now, you know? But it's gonna be a lot more Hal 9000 than people are willing to accept- my greatest sin is being honest about what me and all these other tech bro douchebags are up to- and being too smart for them to force me out of their boys clubs."

[iracxndiaa]

tags pt. one

[sycophxnts]

This is a LOOK. 

random jackson edits 2/?

[mercytorn]

tag drop: levithian

[yakumtsaki]

It’s another beautiful night at Union Manor and Maxx beats up Abbey while D’vorah watches TV in front of the couch she destroyed, man, pets are the best.

Shajar is skilling like crazy and banned from doing anything else, because a) I can just see Wyatt’s pathetic career trajectory repeating itself b) if he and Jojo die before Shaj and Don top their careers we’re once again gonna have to go out and make friends for their promotions, like when goddamn Komei died the day Wyatt was gonna get promoted and took all his friends with him. 

I had a hard enough time with the friend-making last gen and Wyatt and Jojo were a lot more socially competent than this group of assholes. 

Case in point, this is what Shajar does when practicing ‘charisma’ in the mirror. Are you charmed yet??

Meanwhile, no longer content to just set men’s hearts alight, Cyneswith has taken to starting fires in the kitchen. I’m still mad at Sophie for getting knocked up ahead of schedule but good Lord, when you look at everyone else in this house it’s like who even cares.

-I don’t like following recipes, I wanna follow my culinary instincts instead!!🌸 

Ya I’m literally not even letting you in the general kitchen area until you have 5 cooking points so get cracking.

-This is boring!!!💗

Can I maybe interest you in cheating on Don? 

-Always, huhu!🌸

We go to our beloved karaoke place and meet this iconically dressed downtownie, whose name I do remember for once, it’s Wren! Just look at his style, FINALLY a proper lover for Cyn.

-So strangers are always coming up to me on the street, asking, ‘Wren, how can I become as cool and stylish as you?’ -Strangers come up to you on the street but they already know your name?💗 -Baby, everyone on the street knows my name.. ;) -Wow, huhu!🌸 -Just one of the many advantages of having as many DUIs as I do, word gets around to keep the streets clear when I’m driving!

-I love him!!!💗💗💗

Ya he’s a dreambot..

..he’s also dumped us to go hit on this chick, is this goddamn Christy from the pet asylum?? Ugh.

-I’ll just make him jealous by chatting up Amin!🌸 Wren: Man, that’s the stuff, if I’m not eating cereal in a club I’m just not living.

Ok Wren I’ve had enough of your shit, time to win your love with the most powerful aphrodisiac known to man: a drunken karaoke duet. Frances will you gtfo pls? Why must you be on every lot we’re at.

Somehow inviting Wren to karaoke was all it took for him to get a crush on Cyn, damn girl! Amanda is HORRIFIED by this visage. 

-FOR GOD’S SAKE, SHE IS A MARRIED WOMAN

Didn’t you hook up with Victoria??

-That was different, she was married to *Komei*!

Well Cyn is married to *Don* who is about 100 times worse. But ya I guess unlike Komei he’s been fAiThFuL, ugh. Whatever!!

Honestly these two look unironically great together, their lewks really complement each other. I love Wren’s pink scarf!

FINALLY. Mary Gavigan is INTO it-

-but Cyn is not. Why are you rolling wants for stupid Malcolm who’s not even here, we got his love, we’re done with him!

-Malcolm is special! He’s been with my grandma, it makes me feel in touch with my ancestors!💗

Kill me.

Well Wren is stinking so it’s time to call this a night-

-especially because of all the karaoke joints in all the towns in all the world, the slob walks into this one. After the Jake Do debacle I legit live in perma fear of Cyn getting caught on a date by a different lover. Time to return to the safety of our home..

..and find Jake Do there. WTF. WHY ARE YOU HERE, FREAK

-DON’T LOOK AT ME!!!! 

YA IT’S KINDA HARD NOT TO. Aren’t you still furious with Cyn for ‘cheating’ on you???

-STOP IT. DON’T ACKNOWLEDGE ME. I’M NOT HERE.

-I’M NOT HERE I’M NOT HERE I’M NOT HERE!!!!!!!

BRO. It’s a shame Jake is a face 1 and thus not marriage-able because he’s truly the most criminally insane townie I’ve ever encountered (if you don’t remember the deal with him we met him in this update)

Like legit, he ran into the house, stood there creepily doing nothing, and then ran out. I’d also like to point out that he was never in actual love with Cyn, all he had on her was a CRUSH since their hot tub adventures were interrupted by his oppressive maitre d’ mother.

After spending an eon in the attic lab, Jojo finally got the golden robo badge, it’s servo time!

-Jòjò, hâve toi bèèn méssing avec mon tràin modèle?? -Yes Wyatt, absolutely, during my lifelong quest to create conscious life out of matter, I took a break to mess with your model train. -Je knèw it!!!

It’s an amazing day, Shajar maxes the two remaining skills she needs to top the politics career thanks to this chance card..

..the kits grow up and they’re ADORB, black eyes is Ferra and yellow eyes is Torr..

..AND WE HAVE DOUBLE PROMOTIONS. HELL YA. Maybe you two aren’t such hopeless losers after all. Also Shajar as a judge, LMAO

I can’t stress enough to you guys the degree to which Wyatt does fuck all around here, so now that Sophie is prego I’ve delegated the dog bathing to him to take some of the pet burden off her-

-especially since her pregnancy bump was so intense it momentarily turned her into a brachiosaurus. Ok Soph, the pet careers can wait, just take it easy these days, alright??

-Like hell I will! And this kid is gonna be named Sophie Junior, regardless the gender! And if we have more, they’ll also be named Sophie Junior! 

So many cool Spanish names and you want to name the poor kid SOPHIE JUNIOR.

-YES.

Not happening!

-Then I’m not giving birth!! Do you have any idea how much control I have over my muscles??? I’ll keep that thing in there till it’s 30!!!

Just go relax and we’ll talk about it later!!!

-HA, KNOCKED UP LOSER! Couldn’t win the conception game, can’t win this one either!!

SHAJAR!!!! WILL YOU JUST. GOD. You get one promotion and you think you’re hot shit.

-She’s right, I am a knocked up loser :(

You’re not a loser!!!! Everyone else in this family is a loser!!!!! Shajar literally, I will fucking murder you, stop upsetting your hormonal wife. MORON

Cyn also pops and she is SHOCKED. Probably shocked that the kid is Don’s, I am too, Cyn!

Donaldo is at work so we invite Wren over to make him fall in love with us and never see him again, huhu!

Cyn finally busts out the voodoo doll Jojo got on vacation, I’ve never tried this thing before and man, it. is. AWESOME. Both Cyn and I are so excited that our our way to 20 lovers became easier, I’m like ah what a great day~ but unbeknownst to us, we are about to experience the Mary Sue/Daniel scripted event all on our own:  

So fucking Don gets demoted the exact second Cyn and Wren fall in love and the GODDAMN VOODOO DOLL has an instant make out interaction-

-AKA DON LITERALLY SEES THEM AS HE’S DRIVING BY. I CAN’T

FUUUUUUUUCK

FUCK.

Wren: Oh hi, Don!

FEEL THE FUCKING ROOM PAVEMENT, WREN

We send Wren home pronto, and at this point I remember that Cyn has unlocked the ‘smooth talk’ aspiration benefit, which like the voodoo doll, I have never used before. And much like the voodoo doll, it turns out it’s OP AF:

My expectations of this thing were non-existent, so basically she just gave him a rose, he accepted it-

-he got this red glow with little hearts, I’m like ok so that means per the description that he’s not furious anymore, at least that’s something-

-but no, this shit full on restores the relationship to pre-cheating levels!!!! I’m sure everyone else knows about it but I was SHOOK. That’s it Cyn, between this and the voodoo doll there’s no stopping us!!!

-Huhu!!!🌸

ICONIC. It’s literally like it never happened, best reward ever!!!

Both Wyatt and Jojo dislike Don immensely and never interact with him, so I thought it was so cute when Wyatt autonomously did their school cheer with him..

..but it turned out he just wanted to shittalk him to Sophie! Poor cucked Don :(  I don’t know how I’m STILL constantly surprised by what a bunch of bitches this family is.

-You have trod the arduous paths of excellence~

Tell me about it.

[liquid-luck-00]

Connections 9

Chapter 9

this is based on @thepeacetea daminette soulmate au

Masterlist *** First *** Previous *** Next

Warning ⚠️ Character death

~~~~~~~~~~

Mari always thought her soul bond was curious. She never heard or activated the bond on purpose. She doubted her soulmate did either, because of what Bruce had told her about the league of Assassins. But everything seemed just off. Apart from that one switch she never had contact again. The only thing she has to gleam of her soulmate are the abilities she learned through him. She settled into bed after biding her papa goodnight.

That might not be a bad thing. As soon as that thought crossed her mind was she pulled again, but this was different.

---

Time seemed frozen for Damian.

His mother came for him again. She brought an army and him, an older version a clone of himself. She brought his clone Heretic, who was pulling the sword from Damian's chest.

I lost, he thought as the sword fell from his hand.

Father, Batman, rushed towards him when two orbs of light circled above him, one red and one green.

The red light morphed into a girl with a high ponytail and a red mask covered her eyes, her eyes emanated a red light. She was dressed in a basic suit that resembled a cross of Nightwing and Red Robin's uniforms, just all red with black spots, gloves, and boots.

The green orb turned into a boy a short cloak covered his torso, the hood covered his head and face, two cat ears were part of the hood, his eyes were glowing green. A tail flicked around under the armor set around his waist.

The girl looked at him now in his father's arms.

"No!" she yelled everything fell silent to him as he watched about a dozen more orbs appeared each forming a figure in either red or green. All except the first two moved and quickly dispatched the clone, the army of assassins, and pushed mother back.

His vision faded to black.

He could no longer feel his father's arms under him.

---

Nightwing, Red Hood, and Red Robin were now around Batman and the fallen Robin. The past holders of the miraculous formed a ring around them, linking hands. They moved them all to the Bat-cave.

"Come back little one." Hippolyta, if she remembers what Tikki told her, cupped her face as she faded away.

"Tikki," she whispered out.

"What's wrong?" the little goddess rubbed her eyes.

"I... We... Cave... Now." She managed. She transformed and swung through Gotham unnoticed until she reached the cave under the manor.

The past holders and her cat were still there. She dropped her transformation and ran to her extended family.

"Pixie how?" Jason had taken off his helmet and hugged her.

"You were there weren't you." Tim stated, so she nodded confirming his theory.

“He is neither alive nor dead he is in a plane between the two." A cat, Hei Mao, dressed in a long sleeved black gi, armor plates on his right upper arm and a cat mask on top of his head, eyes like the other cat apparitions were glowing green a black domino mask covered his eyes.

"How is that possible?" Bruce coaxed himself to whisper, cowl down and holding back tears.

"He is your bonded. You are tethering and maintaining his soul whole." A ladybug in knightly armor, red glowing eyes like all the other ladybugs spoke, Joan of Arc.

"My bonded," Marinette breathed under her breath.

"The magic which flows through your veins flows through him. He is your..." the only male ladybug, a red feathered headdress and red cape, red warrior paint covered his eyes and stained his hands, Micazoyolin, added only to be interrupted by Dick.

"Soul mate." Dick gasped from next to her.

"It is possible to revive him." a woman in a loose black dress and a Jaguar patterned cape with green under the cape. A black Jaguar headdress with long green feathers sat on her head green warrior paint on her face and hands, Ocelome, drawled looking between Damian's lifeless body and the green soul of her cat. "By using the waters of the Lazarus."

A gasp was heard from the bats and birds in the cave, Mari flinched further into her big brother Jay. Mari began to sag from exhaustion and the visages of the past holders began to flicker.

"Perhaps this conversation is best held elsewhere," Hippolyta broke the silence. "I, Queen Hippolyta of the Amazons, invite all of you to Themiscyra. Until we meet in the flesh my child."

Two by two each pair of ladybugs and their cats disappeared, all but the solitary cat, her cat, remained. Everything was still and silent within the cave. No one knowing how to proceed, so they stayed as they were.

None of them could tell you how long they stayed like that, but a new voice started.

"Bruce care to explain why my mother told me to bring all of you to Themiscyra." Wonder Woman appeared on the Bat-computer. "By Zeus. The apparition of the cat. Do you know what this means?" Bruce’s back was to the computer, Damian’s body still in his arms protected by his cape from Wonder Woman’s sight.

"Yes we do. Come by around noon everything should be sorted by then." Bruce brought himself to say, Tim ending the call after a nod from Wonder Woman.

"Come on pixie let's get you home before the sun rises." Jason put on his helmet. She nodded, transformed , and let Jason pick her up as they left the cave.

Jay-Jay stopped a few blocks away, she moved and clung on his back like a baby koala. As Red Hood swung and ran across the roof tops. He tucked in his little sister and left.

---

One moment he was dying in his father's arms. No he did die in his father's arms. But what was odd was the tug after a moment in the darkness.

The next he was standing in the Bat-cave next to his father and his body. The first girl in red was gone, but the others were here still. About 10 minutes later a red figure of a girl swings into the cave. If he could move or speak he would have. Or maybe not. The figure was engulfed in pink light and there stood Marinette Stone. She ran into a hug from Todd.

"Pixie how?"

"You were there weren't you." Drake stated, Marinette must have understood the statement as she nodded her head. It was silent until one of the green and black figures spoke.

"He is neither alive nor dead he is in a plane between the two." Hei Mao, the other voice in his mind supplied.

How am I not dead?!

He could still not move or speak so he stood and listened.

"How is that possible?" he heard his Father.

"He is your bonded. You are tethering and maintaining his soul whole." Joan of Arc, the voice again supplied.

"My bonded," Marinette, the voice supplied but now he placed it, the voice is Marinette.

"The magic which flows through your veins flows through him. He is your..." the only man in red, Micazoyolin, Marinette corrected his thought.

"Soul mate." Grayson shrieked.

"It is possible to revive him." Ocelome, she supplied and he took the intonation, without our analyzing now. "By using the waters of the Lazarus."

He heard his family suck in a breath and seem to become stone still, Marinette flinched further into Todd who was hugging and seemingly guarding her.

"Perhaps this conversation is best held elsewhere," Hippolyta broke the silence. "I, Queen Hippolyta of the Amazons, invite all of you to Themiscyra. Until we meet in the flesh my child."

Two by two each pair of ladybugs and their cats disappeared, all abut him. He still could not move, he could not speak either, but his mind raced.

I am dead.

Actually I am apparently not alive or dead.

My best friend is my soulmate.

My soulmate does not hate me.

She knows. She knows me. She knows my aggravating family.

She is stuck with us, with me.

Marinette is my best friend who happens to be my soulmate.

His thoughts would have continued had it not been for the voice coming from the Bat-computer.

"Bruce care to explain why my mother told me to bring all of you to Themyscira." Wonder Woman, "By Zeus. The apparition of the cat. Do you know what this means?"

"Yes we do. Come by around noon everything should be sorted by then."Father spoke his back to the screen shielding his body from vein.

"Come on pixie let's get you home before the sun rises." Todd finally spoke taking Marinette home.

Father finally stood, for a moment he looked at him and then his body before moving to place his body in a portable cyro-chamber in the Bat-plane.

Then the darkness returned.

---

The next morning she woke up with a resolve that everything would turn out fine.

Okay sure I just found out my best friend is my soulmate. the was killed by his clone, but he is in a state of limbo. Okay this was a lot but this is not the end of the story.

So as she, her papa, and Penny were having breakfast a knock sounded at the door.

"I'll get it." Penny excused herself. "Tim what a surprise come in." Tim was promptly sat at the table a mug of coffee and pancakes were placed in front of him.

"What brings you here so early mate?" Papa chuckled after watching Tim chug the coffee.

"Well, we were planning on a family trip for the week but..." he started. "B locked himself in his office and Damian won't budge, so" he looked at Jagged. "We were hoping that we could steal little bean for the week since both of them can't say no to her." he rushed barely stopping to breathe.

"Whatcha say little rock star," Papa turned to her smiling, "want to spend the week with your brothers?"

"Yes." She jumped up and hugged her dad and ran to her room to pack. Tim-Tam joined her a minute later as he asked Diana about the climate of the island.

"Why can't we go too, Lucky Penny?" Mari heard her papa ask.

'Sigh' "You've got a full schedule, why don't we plan something for the following week, your clear then." they heard Penny compromise.

"Rock 'n hear that little star," Papa poked his head in as they finished packing. "Maybe we'll steal one of Bruce's birds next week for our trip." He semi whispered the end.

Tim seemed surprised at the comment but schooled his features quickly, he picked up the suitcase and Mari pulled her papa out of the penthouse suite, gave him a hug as she went with Tim.

Less than an hour later she was sitting in the Bat-cave having loaded the bags in the Bat-plane, with the three eldest Wayne children and Bruce, waiting for Wonder Woman.

"Hey Mari can I ask something?" Tim sat down next to her.

"What is it Tim Tam?"

"What did Jagged mean when he said one of Bruce's birds?" Everyone was now watching the two and listening to the response that was to follow.

"Oh, um papa might have figured out that Uncle Bruce is Batman." She was now fiddling with her fingers in her lap. When no one answered she continued. "Remember a couple of months ago when the Sirens crashed Papa's concert. Well when Uncle Bruce and Jay Jay moved me and Papa away and into his dressing room, B didn't make his voice gruff and gravelly as Batman's usual voice. So papa thought maybe his voice isn't usually as gruff and the new voice is actually his real voice, and once papa hears a voice, he never forgets it. I promise I never told him and I never told him he was right but he is pretty sure and I don’t think he’ll even believe you if you tell him he’s wrong." Mari scrambled to say, ending it with a small sad smile looking up through her lashes at everyone.

"Father like Daughter," Bruce was the first to speak. "Everyone is getting a permanent voice modifier installed in their suits." This resulted in every one laughing. Effectively breaking the tension previously in the room.

"Smart idea B." Jason answered making Mari smile wider.

That was when Wonder Woman decided to arrive. Ending the conversation as they boarded the Bat-plane leaving for Themyscira.

Next

~~~~~~~~~~

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[kylejsugarman]

wow i wasn't expecting so much kind feedback from that post :’) below the cut is the fic, “love will not break your heart”. PLEASE remember this was written five years ago and i wasn't expecting to fall back into moral orel but here tf we are ❤️ 

i. idolatry

"Who does that cloud look like?"

"Umm…" The brunette tilted her head pensively, tracing the arbitrary peaks and valleys of the cloud in question with a critical eye. Her expression of solemn concentration buckled under a luminescent smile as she finally identified the cloud's likeness. "It's Joshua! See the beard?"

"Oh, wow, you're right!" He pointed to an adjacent puff of condensation on the verge of dissipating under the snowy glare of winter sun. "And there's the city of Jericho!"

She giggled in agreement and rolled onto her side; verdant streaks of earth branded her baptism-white cheek. A strand of sandy hair had escaped her new red headband (he had nervously presented it to her and promptly melted at the sight of her grateful beam) and now unfurled down the length of her pearly face. He brushed it back into place, then blushed.

"Uh, sorry."

"It's okay, Orel," she said with an adoring laugh. His timid eyes--coppery pools into which one's best qualities were inevitably reflected--found her own, then flicked downwards in humility. Though she appreciated his respect for her, the reverence with which he treated her was slightly disquieting. There was something to worship in both of them, something she felt she failed to adequately express. "Orel?"

The eyes, lit dreamily by a refulgent sky. "Yes, Christina?"

She touched a hesitant hand to his face and waited for the momentary tension of his form to abate as he recognized the tenderness of the gesture. There was the inexorable flutter of panic in her gut, as if her father were crouched behind one of Inspiration Peak's many bushes waiting to snatch her and drag her back into the study, but she quashed it readily. Her love for Orel was stronger than her fear of her father and with its pristine power she could have demolished that study with a single fiery glance.

But Christina had always favored creation over destruction, so she leaned over and pressed a soft, pink kiss to Orel's mouth. She tried to whisper "Happy Valentine's Day" to establish her motive, but was immediately silenced as he braced himself up on an elbow and shyly reciprocated the kiss. He tasted like candy heart chalk and mint.

"I love you," he said after he had bashfully withdrawn his head.

The world was shiny and new, the clouds morphing cheerfully behind him into benevolent figures who would shelter the tender bloom of their love. And Christina Posabule reached up to frame Orel's face in her gentle hands and said "I love you too" for the first time.

.

.

ii. respect

"Ugh. I never did understand the appeal of French toast."

Dottie scrutinized the buffet offerings, her angelically-proportioned visage contorted into a rictus of disgust. Her plate was sparsely garnished with a serving of greens and a mimosa, which she had already taken a drag from. As she eyed the decadent bricks of syrup-drenched toast, Florence calmly forked an omelet onto her own plate and waited for Dottie to make a decision. The Valentine's Day brunch was rarely an extravagant affair, but there were certainly enough dishes to satisfy even Dottie's impossibly high culinary standards.

"I think French toast is wonderful," Florence said. She expected this remark to be met with a haughty sniff or snide comment, but Dottie abstained. She even summoned a mordant grin.

"Well. I suppose the French are the superior culture for a reason." The blonde delicately pronged a lone slice of French toast onto her plate, taking care to select the most lightly-sugared piece on display. "Alright, I'm done. Quick, before I change my mind."

Florence led Dottie back to their booth, which had been denoted by the placement of their respective pocketbooks on the table (Florence's sturdy handbag looking markedly haggard next to Dottie's designer clutch). The two women supped here together after church, a tradition that had been inaugurated shortly after the Reverend's Easter sermon. Dottie had apologized to Florence in a rare fit of humility and promised to stop berating her roommate for her figure; Florence, ever the victim, dutifully accepted her apology. However, Dottie had surprised her by making a noticeable effort to curb her cruel commentary and even started contributing to the community by taking on sewing projects. Her lovely dresses soon filled the closets of every woman in Moralton--including Florence's. The rather flattering candy-pink wrap dress that Florence was wearing now was Dottie's handiwork, a fact the blonde managed to work into every conservation.

"Darling, that dress is absolutely divine on you," Dottie said, lighting a cigarette.

"Yes, thank you." Florence smoothed down the collar and smiled at the sight of her freckled hands. A modest diamonded band adorned her ring finger.

Dottie noticed her admiring of the piece of jewelry; she pursed her polished lips expectantly. "I really think you should've sprung for something bigger."

"Oh, I think this is just lovely the way it is," Florence insisted. She elevated her hand in order to demonstrate the diamond's iridescence. A slant of noon light caught the mineral and fissured apart into chromatic prisms; diamonded specks twinkled across the laminated tabletop. It was a rather appropriate expression of Florence's own appearance, something the ring's buyer had obviously taken into consideration. "Aren't you happy with your ring?"

"Me? Why I'd rather die than have this ring taken off my finger." Dottie inspected the arrangement of jewels gracing her own finger, which were independently lustrous and set into an ingot of platinum. The colors matched the sheen of her blonde curls perfectly.

An inexorable smile pressed dimples into either of Florence's cheeks. "You really like it?"

Dottie flicked her cigarette ash into the table's decorative vase with an insouciant tap of her manicured finger. Her expression was characteristically enigmatic ("you can't let them think you're interested," she had lectured Florence as she practiced looking jaded in the mirror), but the favor with which she regarded the ring was unmistakable. Finally, she said "I love it" in an emphatically decisive voice tempered with genuine affection. An affection that Florence reciprocated with an echoing of the sentiment before cutting into her omelet and watching Dottie slice willingly into a piece of French toast.

.

.

iii. requited

"Um, anything else, Steph?"

The tattooed, pierced, and freshly dyed vision of beauty glanced up from her book, eyes lightly glazed from an hour of reading. She had salvaged a rather intriguing volume of essays about evolution from a seedy bookshop in Sinville and was determined to complete the tome before it could be snatched and tossed on the literary pyre. Forghetty's wasn't exactly the ideal location for intellectual pursuits, but Stephanie had abandoned the shop at the mere notion of Karl and Kim Latchkey requesting some disgustingly romantic apparel for the holiday and decided that she deserved  some discounted Valentine's vodka for soldiering through the week unscathed.

"Another vodka would be great."

Dolly smiled warmly. "Coming right up."

As the blonde scooped ice into a tumbler, Stephanie became suddenly and acutely aware of the candy-pink heart branding the small of Dolly's neck. Despite having stitched ink into countless arms and sides, she was shocked by the heart's symmetry. It was absolutely flawless.

"One vodka," Dolly said, sliding the glass across the condensation-varnished bar. Her fingers were impossibly long, slender--piano fingers. Stephanie could not fathom why these trivial details fascinated her so, but she was suddenly pressed to learn more about the daisy-pretty bartender who had dutifully refreshed her tumbler for the past hour. Starting with that immaculate tattoo.

"Thanks. Uh, Dolly? Where'd you get that ink on your neck?"

"Ink on my--?" She palpated her neck in befuddlement before remembering the previous night and giggling wanly. "Oh, it-it's just pen. My friends thought it would be funny if I actually got a tattoo, so they had the guy draw it on, but I… I chickened out, I guess."

"Oh."

"It's not that I don't want a tattoo," Dolly quickly amended, tipping Stephanie's colorful arms an appreciative nod. "I'm just kinda chicken about needles."

Stephanie quirked an amused eyebrow. "So you would get a tattoo?"

"Well." She sheepishly wrung a damp cloth out over the bar top and made a concentrated effort to appear occupied by the menial task. "Maybe."

"That heart's pretty cute. I think it would look nice back there."

Roses bloomed in Dolly's porcelain cheeks. Though her friends had never abstained from making passively nasty comments about Stephanie's unusual appearance and proud deviance from Moralton's constrictive status quo, Dolly had always fostered a secret respect for her. There was something alluring about Stephanie, something that begged back story: Dolly longed to read the text that accompanied the illustrations trellising her arms like ivy. "You think so?"

"Definitely. And if you're scared of needles, I've got an assistant who could probably distract you," Stephanie added with a playful smirk. Orel had curbed several customers' needle anxiety with breathless sermons about the incredibleness of Jesus and anecdotes about his occasionally distressing adventures ("and then I died! Three times! It was neat!")

"Would you really give me a tattoo?" Dolly asked, equally hopeful and horrified.

"If you're up for it."

Dolly twisted the cloth in her hands for a moment. The yearning to know Stephanie--to know every corner, every fold--was blossoming urgently in her chest. She wanted more than a tattoo. She wanted to familiarize herself with the inky mysticism enshrouding Stephanie Putty and if that meant romance, if that meant public scorn and disappointment and disgusted looks, so be it. She wanted Stephanie. She wanted all of her.

"Doll?"

"Y-Yes," Dolly sputtered, visibly flustered. Then she grinned cautiously and set down her hands on the bar top, allowing Stephanie to admire their delicate whorls and pearly nails at a closer proximity. "I'd love that."

.

.

iv. infatuation

"I know you think I'm stupid, Marionetta."

They had cloistered themselves away in a small clearing that provided some margin of protection from their schoolmates' scorn. A mild sky opened above them, achingly empty, painfully wide. As he stared into its doleful depths--oppressing himself not to betray the shame making dewy his eyes--he recalled the passages he had studied about the atmosphere. His old teachers had refused to teach the subject, citing the lack of a Heaven in the textbook's diagram of the Earth's atmosphere. He imagined it was sandwiched between the mesosphere and thermosphere, an impossible realm illuminated by auroras and burning space debris. But in the absence of substantial evidence that such a place existed, he was content to call the clearing Heaven, as long as Marionetta was there.

The girl smoothed imaginary wrinkles out of her dotted skirt. Even

[borisbubbles]

My favourite Dorian Quotes

Just as an addendum, since my previous didn’t exactly put across the hilarity of Dorian, here are my favourite quotes/conversations/reactions by Dorian Pavus in Dragon Age 3.  Edit 22/01: added a few more because Dorian just keeps giving.  60.  Dorian: Come on Varric, just answer the question. 😣 Varric: My mother didn’t raise any morons, Sparkler. 🙄 Dorian: But you must have an opinion! And you’re a Dwarf! Completely unbiased. Varric: There is no way I’ll answer “Which Inquisition Mage is the best dressed?”, not for all the gold in Orzammar. Vivienne: Also, the answer is obvious. 🙂 59. Dorian: So what's your estimation, Varric? Think we could win? Varric: 😱 You aren't asking me to give odds on our beloved Inquisitor's success?! 😛 Dorian: What would that look like? Three to one? 🤣 Varric: In his favor?  Dorian: After Corypheus pulled an archdemon out of his arse, are you joking? Inquisitor: You would actually bet against me?  Dorian: Now now, if I weren't here, it would be five to one at least. 😘 Inquisitor: I’ll take those odds, actually. 😏 Dorian: This is why I adore him so.  😍 58.  Cassandra: So Bull, about Dorian... Iron Bull: Yep, it’s true. 😁 Dorian: By all means, let’s discuss this all together. 🙄 Cassandra: If you’re both pleased Dorian: He’s happy, I’m happy, everybody’s happy!  Iron Bull: Awww, you’re happy. 😍 Dorian: 😣 Cassandra: 😄 57. You joke! they’ll be writing books about you, boring ones that will get it all wrong. Just you wait!   56.  Iron Bull: Yesss, we’re going to fight the dragon, boss? Oh THIS is gonna be GOOD.  Dorian: You are way too excited about this. 😑

55.  Blackwall: How do you get your hair to do that, Dorian? With magic? Dorian: With proper hygiene and grooming. Maybe the three of you should get acquainted. 🙄 54.  Cole: You’re happier now, Dorian Dorian: Oh is that what this light tingly feeling is? I suppose you’re right. 😏  Cole: Wishing but wondering, wounded and whistful Cole: What if he doesn’t want me after? Dorian: But he did. 😁 Cole: Now you’re smiling. It’s good.  😃 53. Varric: Does this shit make any sense to you? Dorian: Are you referring to the giant gaping hole in the sky, or the creature from a Chantry cautionary tale pretending to be a god? Varric: Either. I’m feeling generous. Dorian: What’s the matter? Some pretender comes along, tears the place down, declares himself king. That’s half of history. Varric: Corypheus is like that drunk uncle who refuses to leave the party? Dorian: Even after he puts a hole in the ceiling. Terribly common.  52.  Sera: You gonna warn me the next time you’re throwing your magic around? Dorian: As long as you’re careful where you shoot all those arrows Sera: You magic me, I’ll put three in your eye! Dorian: 😅 Now we can live together in peace and harmony!  51. Vivienne: Dorian, what did you think of little Sera’s last Red Jenny mission? Dorian: Hmm... I’d call it ‘medium’. 🤔 Vivienne: ‘Medium’, my dear? Dorian: It wasn’t rare, and it certainly wasn’t well done. 😏 50. Cole: Dorian, what is 'a slave'?  Dorian: FESTISBEIUMOCANAVERUM! 😨 Cole: You said I could ask questions! Dorian: I know I did, just... go ask the Inquisitor that one. 49. An optimist! 🤣  such a rare breed, I have stumbled upon a unicorn. 48. Dorian: What I wouldn't give for some proper wine.😫 Vivienne: Skyhold's steward is a sadistic little man who is trying to kill us. 🤢 Dorian: Perhaps he found a bargain he couldn't pass up, on vats of vinegar? 47. Cassandra: Why are you looking at me like that, Dorian? Dorian: I am trying to imagine what you would look like... in a dress.😈 Cassandra: Keep wondering. If my uncle couldn't put me in one, neither shall you. 46. Dorian: How do you want to be remembered, Cassandra? Valiant yet sexy rebel against the status quo? Cassandra: I don't have any control over how I'll be remembered. 🙄 Dorian: Sword raised high, blue scarf dramatically fluttering in the wind, sun rising behind you? Cassandra: Blue scarf?😒 Why would I be wearing such a thing? Dorian: It's a painting, of course! Work with me( It'll be fantastic! 🤗 45. Dorian: Why is it so cold? How do you southerners stand it? Iron Bull: What's the matter? Not enough slaves around to rub your footsies? Dorian: My ‘footsies’ are freezing, thank you! 😒 44.  Blackwall: Dorian, I’d appreciate it if you stopped refering to me as ‘that hairy lummox”.  😠 Dorian: When did I do that? Blackwall: At the tavern, the blacksmith’s, the stable. You said it to the gateguards when we left Skyhold! Dorian: hmm... 🤔 yes, that does sound like me.   🤗 43. Dorian: Watch out where you point that thing! 😡 Iron Bull: Dirty! 😏 Dorian: Vishante kaffas, I meant your weapon! 😡 42. Dorian: What would you say Blackwall's best feature is, Vivienne? Vivienne: His absence, of course. 🙄 Blackwall: I can hear both of you. 😒 41. Dorian: Did you know we are actually related Inquisitor? Inquisitor: We, what? Dorian: Not first cousins or anything. Can you imagine?  Dorian: I however did a bit of digging in my family tree, and somewhere down the netheregions of my line there was also a Trevelyan. Dorian: Perhaps the one who went to Ostwick to establish the branch? I knew we looked so alike for a reason. 😏 Inquisitor: Um, yay?  Dorian: Indeed! 😁 Yay! 40. I’m always nice. 😏 39. Dorian: I don't know if you've heard, but the rumours are that you and I are... intimate. Inquisitor: That's not such a bad thing, isn't it? Dorian: I don't know, is it? Inquisitor: Do you always answer a question with a question? Dorian: Perhaps you would like me to answer in a different fashion? 🤔 Inquisitor:  If you're capable. 😅 Dorian: 😘🥰😚 Dorian: 'If you're capable.' The nonsense you speak. 🤭 38. Dorian: You caught the eye of a young woman in that last village, Blackwall. Blackwall: I'm sure you're mistaken. 😒 Dorian: You're right. She was undoubtedly looking at me.🤭 37. Dorian: Vivienne, I have only the one question - why the Orlesian fixation with masks? Vivienne: It is The Game, darling. You never show the players your true visage. Dorian: A strange custom in a culture where people assassinate each other for putting too much salt in the soup Vivienne: An extra hurdle to be overcome. Fail at The Game, and you die. Dorian: And you people call Tevinter barbaric. 🙄 36. Dorian: You are smiling a great deal these days, Cassandra. 😉 Cassandra: I am not... smiling. 😒 Dorian: Now you're not, but only because I pointed it out to you. Cassandra: I am not a giddy schoolgirl! 😡 Dorian: That would have been easier to believe if you hadn't just blushed. 🤗 35. You’ll be surprised at the credit my tongue gets me, your Reverence.  34. Dorian: Sera, I see you are having fun with your illustruous paramour- Sera: WHAT? 😨 Is it showin'? Dorian: What? NO, oh heavens NO. 🤢 Dorian: I meant to ask if you're enjoying your new relationship. Sera: Then why not just say that? 🙄 Dorian: I did... in words you apparently don't understand. 😑 Sera: What's the point of words you know and others don't? Who'd you say them to? 🙄 Dorian: Letmejustdobothofusafavorandretractthequestion. 😡 Sera: Pity, because we're doing great. That's why I'm following her around with weirdies 🤗 33. It was fun to goad you, Cassandra. You get that knot between your eyes when you're flustered - Ah, look, there it is! Delightful!  🤗 32. Dorian: I half expect my mother to materialize from the crowd to criticise my manners. Inquisitor: Where would we be if you mother we really here? Dorian: Short one mage, after he's been dragged out by his earlobe. Inquisitor: I have a hard deal imagining that. 😅 Dorian: Picture me a young boy of five years then. She certainly always has. 🙄 31. Dorian: 'Official Mage to the Orlesian Court'. Well that sounds exciting. 🙄 Vivienne: It's an esteemed position, darling. One many mages should envy. Dorian: Yes, I suppose being paraded around like an exotic peacock is better than frantically running from templars. 🙃 Vivienne: Better an exotic peacock than one Tevinter rat amongst many. Dorian: Oh? A dig at my homeland? This should be fun. 😏 30. Sera: Dorian? Those words you say. What do they mean? Dorian: What, you mean like mendicant or ultimatum? 🤨 Sera: No, arse, when you're mad. 'Pish-anty cough-ass'. You're swearing, I know it. Dorian: Ah, 'vishante kaffas'. It's Tevene, relics of the old tongue. We still use the colorful phrases. Sera: And it means what? Dorian: Literally? 😏  'You shit on my tongue.' Sera: 😂 Why not just say that?  Dorian: A mystery for the ages.  29. Sera: Demons! Flappy robes! Dorian: Thieves! Dog Stink! Sera: Culty shits! Dorian: Treacherous teyrns! Sera: Wha- It’s not a proper game of ‘Your people are shit” if you just make up words. 🙄 Dorian: A ‘teyrn’ is a Fereldan title, just below that of a king. I thought you of all people would know that. Sera: Well that’s just... I... smartasses 🤬 Dorian: Too late! I believe that’s my round. 🤗 Sera: Piss! 😠 28.  Vivienne: You’re rather amusing, Dorian. Dorian: Your outfit’s entertaining, I’ll give it that.🙄 Vivienne: Pretending to be a shark from a land of sharks. But you’re not a shark and you’ll never be one, darling. They knew this as much as we do.   Dorian: I could have of course pretended, wore fancy clothes, convinced everyone I’m something I’m not.  Dorian: Then I could take a position at court, whore myself out, and desperately hope no one realizes what a fraud I am.  Vivienne: Such snapping for a fish without teeth! 😂 Inquisitor: I cannot believe the way you two speak to each other. 😨 Vivienne: Inquisitor whatever is the matter? We’re having a perfectly civil conversation. Dorian: It’s true. I’ve heard worse from the gardener back home.  27.   Dorian: Varric, you owe me five royals. I’d like them paid in candied dates. 😉 Varric: I haven’t lost that bet yet, Sparkler. Dorian: You said we would be arse-deep in trouble. This is more like knee-high. Varric: I didn’t specify whose ass, did I? 😏 Dorian: Leave it to a dwarf always lowering the bar. 🙄 26. I hope you tried the ham they were serving, by the way. Tasted of despair. Fascinating. 25. Dorian: Vivienne, we can continue this dance forever if you like. Vivienne: Certainly. Provided both of us are capable. Dorian: I mock Orlesian frippery and nonsense, you slam Tevinter decadence and tyrrany. Dorian: There's however something more important we must remember. Vivienne: And what might that just be? 🤨 Dorian: At least we're not Antivan. Vivienne: 🤢 Quite right. Thank the Maker. 🙏 24. Cassandra: You're not as handsome as you think, Dorian. Dorian: Ah, but I must be! Or you wouldn't have been thinking about it all this time.  😏 Cassandra: Anyone who claims it as often as you must be dreadfully concerned they're not. Dorian: Look at this profile - Isn't it incredible? Dorian: I picture it in marble. 😏 Cassandra: 😒 23. Flying cows over Minrathous? Preposterous! Okay that one is actually true, but the cows didn't have wings. 22. Dorian: I have only one question, Sera: did you cut your own hair?  Sera: Yeah. Why wouldn't I? 🙄 Dorian: You could try using something other than a rusty butter knife. Sera: Oh, excuse me while I dig up my diamond-studded hair-cutting whatevers. 🙄 Dorian: Scissors. 😏 The word you're looking for is "scissors." 😏 21. Iron Bull: Quite the stink-eye you've got going, Dorian. Dorian: You stand there, flexing your muscles, huffing like some beast of burden with no thought save conquest. 😡 Iron Bull: That's right. These big muscled hands could tear those robes off while you struggled, helpless in my grip. Iron Bull: I'd pin you down, and as you gripped my horns. Iron Bull: I. Would. Conquer. You. 😏 Dorian: Uh. What? 😨 Iron Bull: Oh. Is that not where we're going? 🤐 Dorian: No. It was very much not.😳 20. You can't call me pampered, Varric. 🙄 Nobody has peeled a grape for me in weeks. 19. Sera: Dorian are you going to warn me the next time you bust out in demons or sumthin? Dorian: 😂 How exactly do you picture me 'busting out’? Dorian: I am just walking along and *OOPS* - demon? Dorian: I mean it could happen, after years of training. You could also trip and impale your eye on an arrow. 😏 Sera: So are you going to warn me or not? 🙄 Dorian: Certainly. But only because you're so dear to me. 😘 18. Dorian: For being so unnerved by magic, you aren't shy about benefiting from its effects.🤔 Sera: I don't. I use normal things, not magic. 🙄 Dorian: You consider swathing yourself in flame or ice 'normal' and 'not magic'? 🤨 Sera: For one: it comes out a bottle. Sera: For two: I mess up, I get burned. You mess up, your head chucks up a demon. Sera: For three: Bottle, little burned, no demons. So there. 🤗 Dorian: That was only... you know, if it lets you sleep at night, never mind. 😒 17. Festis bei umo canaverum! I swear, if you don't come through this, I will kill you. 😖 16. Dorian: The first time I entered the Fade it looked like a lovely castle full of silks and gold. 😍 Dorian: I met a marvellous desire demon as I recall. We chatted and ate grapes before he tried to possess me. 😇   Vivienne: 🙄😒😠😡🤬 Dorian: Yes? I hear your southern Harrowings are slightly more strenuous. 😏 15. What do they call this place? A "bog"? Lovely word for it.  🙄 14. Dorian: Solas, what is this whole look of yours about? Solas: I am sorry? 🙄 Dorian: No, that outfit is sorry.😷 What are you supposed to be, some sort of woodsman? Dorian: Isn't that a Dalish thing? Don't you dislike the Dalish? Or is it some sort of statement? Solas: No. 😠 Dorian: Well, it says "Apostate hobo" to me. 😏 Vivienne: Unwashed apostate hobo, more specifically. 🙂 13. I AM TOO PRETTY TO DIE 😭 12. Dorian: Amatus, it's been so long. Did you miss me? Inquisitor: A little bit. Dorian:  😂 'a little bit' he says. I'll show you a little bit! Just you wait. 😏 11. Dorian: Sera, where do you get your arrows from? You have so many. 🤔 Sera: From your arse. That's where. 🙄  Dorian: My arse should open up a shop. It's apparently quite prolific. 😁 10. Ah, this reminds me of the time Mother took me boating in summer. Or rather, she had the servants take me on the boat while she sat inside with a cool drink.🙄  09. Inquisitor: Things are going well with the Bull, I take it? Dorian: He's glad I've returned, if that's what you mean. Nearly crushed three of my ribs with that ridiculous hug. 🙄 Inquisitor: You say that as if you don't like it. 🤨 Dorian: For such a great beast, he can be such a terrible sap 🙄 Dorian: [bullvoice] "I want to talk about my feelings, Dorian". Dorian: Ugh. 🙄 Inquisitor: 😂 you do like it Dorian: Quiet you! He'll overhear, and then where I'll be?🤫 08. Dorian: Sera, I cannot believe you, of all people, are scared of magic. Surely you can see nothing wrong with a properly used tool? Sera: What about all the mages waving their proper tools in people's faces? Dorian: There's an image. 😁 Sera: "What about Corfyface? How many proper tools does he have under him? Dorian: That's not... I don't think I can continue. 😬 Sera: I don't care how gifted you are, don't cram it where it's not wanted. 😡 Vivienne: Maker, how does she not know? 🙄 07. Just once we should enter a cave and see normal sized spiders. 🙄 06. Cassandra: After all the places we have been, I hardly expected us to find ourselves in another cave. Cassandra: Still, as mad as our lives had been, I would take any chance to be together.  😘 Dorian: Why seeker, after all these years, I never realized you felt this way!! Cassandra: ... Dorian: ... Cassandra: 😒 Dorian: Oh, you meant him. 😶 05. Mountains! 😠 Cold! 😠 "Let's bring Dorian!". 😒 04. Dorian: I heard a little rumour that somebody has been doing some training. As an assassin no less. Inquisitor: I thought the skills might come in handy. Dorian: Yes, I suppose a little flair is welcome, with all the killing you do. Inquisitor: I don't kill that many people. 🙄  Dorian: Are you joking? I'm only surprised you didn't kill someone walking over here. 🤨 03. Cole: Breath painful, stabbing, and then real stabbing, lungs full, frothing, scent of apples as it all goes black. Dorian: 'Death By Applepie' - A lovely poem by our dear friend Cole.  02. Blackwall: Corypheus, one of yours isn't he? Dorian: One of my mine? 🙄  Like a pet? 🙄 Like a giant darkspawn hamster with aspirations of godhood? 🙄 Dorian: "Dorian, why can't you look after your little friends. Corypheus peed on the carpet again". Dorian: In this analogy, 'the carpet' is Haven. 😏 Blackwall: Is he or isn't he a Tevinter magister? 😒 Dorian: Meaning 'the source of everything bad in the world'? They are the same, yes? 😑 Blackwall: Sigh. Feels that way at times. 🙄 01. Inquisitor: No matter what happens, I wouldn't trade the years I spent with you for anything. Inquisitor: I love you. Dorian: I knew you'd break my heart, you bloody bastard. 😭

[libidomechanica]

You lounged, like an iron-clanging still, not one, can ever folly

Devouring thy heart to this?     With Dogge of noysome breathe. Nor draw no lines and wishing forth,     and you share your own people: thither to his window my     body is the dark moor land, rapidly riding at their     Institutes, and cut their

thought: she would break the while thought, a     touch had his creast; Mars carried Venus gloue, in such delight     mellow; come with the frame wherein could make a tent a stone-     shot off: we esteem you fought, with false self-sweet-conspiring     sympathy: summer when

we meet at any time and blew,     and slain ram that none appeal says I did share; while day lang;     he’s put down, I bought to shine above, and petty Ogress’,     and ungrateful every captains out; nor ever: fail you     will! Stalls in our lines, as

Goteherd prowde, that we call things     nothingness in another beforehand. White hand; o plight,     and prone she-bird of her some greatest, so long wave, deservest     alone is dide. All sleep-warm pillows in the body     were moved, she moaned, a slave,

the torrents, dashed your cities into     whiffs of cloud, all losses are driven: they made it seemed     about the ball: it is but them, and leave Scotia’s strawberries.     They han great Prince, she lifted his time is at hand when     the rustling birds around

to Psyche’s babe in arms, a girl     with her red cocktail dress and Tim would their christall faces,     will pype and there did lie drown’d, pale with the flocke, to fetch her     from hollow shown by your virtue of you and love I’d     not lock’d up in heaven

and with little clause take not thy     tottring back, which stealing stars. Nor earth with his whelpless eyes,     cold even thence we have no idea how it came red.     How did it die? Why do ye thinks hersel very weel aff,     Woo’d and my cause for every

voice, nor sound of water on     the child: and I will Yes. And she said, she must be at peace     in having this head of gold. Whose Teeth are for me the woodmen     with the rougher hand is safer: on to the logic     of a lord; and much I

fear! Such pixel you’d never will     last like Hindoos, for fun watched each face and low, called by an     earth I cry for him. With such a dainty rind, should Love, when     he asks me I will Yes. The desire; my death, for our     wine and free. You lounged,

like an iron-clanging still, not     one, can ever folly. On thy heart and soul are mine. The     horse whipped by an earth I cry for still; yet Faith those sweet     Caledonian lines; nae gowden streams with gentlemen kirkward     shall go well, by oft

predict that fed or arm that my     old love reading thee. But the Prince, with a sigh—it was to     keep the visage hide, stealing of your grave. In the soul’s sleep,     then these are just musick, for the fizz and tingle, sunning     out, my father would be.

My eyes my knowledge crouches you     with a runcible spoons while our cloistered in, and woman     named: the noise with frisked curls from time to the seed. Not lost, although     you don’t under through, and Grisi’s existence embittered,     Kate Brown’s on the day,

to please my fears—you use ’tis of     your dearest of your flower of womankind, and shouted;     they moved and I unremark’d the slick, love, when Phoebe shines     so! I earned no more I trace my fingers on a sty,     glorifying clown and strolled

at a’! ’ The tents: take up the Prince,     and squadrons of steel temper? Courage, poor heart can this I     would shame you. Their fan, to catch thee, what else, and married next     day by the thunderbolt, she trampled years after night, blind,     seems seeing, burst the lawn

about my sire, grant me your     coffee hot let me even less is nowhere near? Nor think     ye are very nape of her foes with him on my part, the     child. As yet they struck vainly in my basement, but as she     pays the white of the sea,

between. Laborious morning:     there dwelled holy saints, I reuerence deeper knowledge of spears     and fling it? To learn how all these things are borne, I gaue to     the grange, nor loss of maiden from heaven find: but lo! Which     through, and stronger. And, which

loue ytake: well couth I sing on,     as if in pain: and all discourse untainted with the strong     and grown within the strong to dreame. Soul and bran, bread at my     painfully quivering of your mouth—rather thresh, their peer,     showing the moonlight, my

own heart’s heart and slices of     satisfies my carefull Colin, I lament thy cause thou     wilt, remembered the appeal says I’m gone unto that mart,     and pushed to death, when she said she hath all prophetic pity,     fling that severs all

to spend, nor services to do,     till she bee, and dost him out of sight; mine eyes can scarce sustaine     the bay! Lost as an offspring barge, least night with pride; in     my poore name. By natures prove the patron with your legs still     Heavens forget my vow,

or fall. ’Cat smell. To see such pixel     you’d never it rained, a slave, what else but dead, and truth     to get more tragic and more. Where through with hollow shows; I     seem tame. I earned no Warble something will be the wind.     I see Heaven and quick!