#radiant urchin

[fernshawart]

I tried to make some Splatoon designs based on some aquatic species I found cool !

[verdemoun]

rdr3 set in 1883 but it's just horses, hunting, crafting and fishing. you play as an unnamed adult orphan protagonist, travelling with fellow street urchin Kieran Duffy as you do the most lawfully good things you have to to survive: catching fish, selling treasures you find by chance, collecting pelts. whenever you point your gun at a human or horse the character goes 'what am i thinking?' and forces you to lower it.

you can bump into the vdls and do stranger missions for them eg finding a young arthur morgan drunk in a bar and him offering you a whole $10 if you can catch him 3 smallmouth bass. you can save the recent runaway john marston from drowning in a stream and take him to a hospital, only for him to jump out the window and take off down an alley never to be seen again. bill williamson occasionally spawns as an npc at poker tables and flirts with you. if you pay for a deluxe bath the radiant susan grimshaw appears. you do some basic animal tending for the deeply suspicious mrs summers, who frankly needs the help keeping up with her clever little 3 year old lenny summers who follows you around asking 'why' at every goddamned thing you do. a random npc encounter has a gorgeous young woman come running up to asking for directions, and if you follow her you will find out it is annabelle, trying to yet again tell dutch van der linde he is going the wrong way while he refuses to listen (dutch van der linde, dis-respecter of women).

if you go to a specific train station at night it cuts to a young hosea matthews pacing around before asking if you have any gunoil, which he uses to fretfully polish his pocketwatch and despair the train is running late: he was meant to be collecting his wife so they could catch a show at the theatre, and they'll be late but he's entirely terrified something has happened to cause the delay. he proceeds to talk about his wife for so long and so lovingly the player almost looks uncomfortable, going on about her being the most incredible woman to ever grace the earth, only for the train to arrive and hosea to immediately dart off to bessie, who was standing on the small rickety platform between carriages already waving to him as the train stopped. hosea pleads with her not to be so reckless, her health is already so frail, and she turns her nose up and lovingly shoves him before they walk off into the city.

and then, after a long peaceful game of non-consequential missions, a random gang of bandits walk into your camp and shoot you dead after you tell kieran to run. the end C:

[mooseyspooky]

A historical or alternative historical fic idea with Moz as a much older wealthier man, a recluse more or less

He lives on a big estate, far away from everything. He has one or two servants, none of whom know him very well. He has a sustainable little field of crops maintained by the help.

A single, solitary cow that grazes the field whose milk gets made into all sorts of useful things. A few goats, a horse. And it's a quiet, very mundane life Moz lives.

Where he spends most of his days writing letters to Wilde and having one of his helpers mail them in the nearest town, and of course none of the letters get replies but Moz continues to write him pages and pages about life and everything else

Then one day Moz looks out his first floor window. And there at the gate along the dirt road leaning up against the stone wall is this filthy, underfed urchin. His hair is long and tangled. His hands are dirty, but the strange thing is - he's dressed quite well. The clothes hang off him, but they are quite stylish for the time.

He's smoking a cigarette and staring down the road. And when he looks up and catches Moz' eye, the smile he shoots him makes the sun look less radiant. Moz immediately closes the curtain, withdraws deeper into the room.

But minutes later the door flies open and there's this filthy child staring at him while the maid fusses at him and tells him to take off his muddy shoes at least - if he's going to be barging in uninvited and making a mess.

He doesn't smell great, either. Moz immediately puts his handkerchief to his nose to abate the smell.

And this boy, who's so thin he could be snapped in two by the slightest breeze, says he's looking for work. Work and a place to sleep. Moz says no, nothing like that here. There's nothing for you here go away.

But the boy is insistent. Johnny, he says. Johnny's my name. And don't you need someone to clean the barn? Moz says as long as you'll leave me alone, then yes.

John Maher. 16 years old, and sleeping in his barn. Did he ever even have parents?

The maid being like christ even if you're sleeping in the barn you're too disgusting and you reek. Making Johnny get the water out the well to fill the tub and pull it in front of the fire. Moz watches quietly from the doorway as she scrubs the boy down like a muddy unwanted dog.

And it's startling because under the filth is a boy with bright brown eyes and messy black hair, most of which the maid cuts off to get the mats out. But he's stunning. Otherworldly almost. His underfed frame suits him.

The hollows of his cheeks, the severe dip of his ribs. The maid doesn't have many clothes around that would fit him, she'll have to sew something for him the next day. So for now he's put in one of Moz' long linen shirts and a thick pair of socks and a pair of loose trousers with a belt wrapped around his tiny waist a few times.

He lounges on Moz' furniture all night, looks through dozens of his books, and smokes at least two dozen cigarettes. All while Moz watches silently, without a word. Standing in the doorway in total fascination.

And Johnny of course doesn't really know how to read, so he keeps sounding out all the words and trying to figure it out and Moz will mumble it and Johnny will parrot him. And so this goes on day after day. Moz will be sat in his library, comfortably flipping through something and Johnny will pop up behind him like a phantom, smelling of animal dung and hay and cigarettes and sweat and be like what's this mean?

And Moz will be like your living quarters is in the barn not my library. I don't even pay you. And Johnny just sits down, staining the furniture and making the maid furious.

So Johnny has House Clothes he has to change into whenever he leaves the barn or the maid will actually murder him. Just absolutely skin him alive. But that's a problem cause Johnny just comes in wearing a loose top that shows off his shoulders and trousers that slip down and show off his hips.

And Moz has just entered his 40th year, he can't be looking at John in that way, he's still too young. And more than that, a young man. Not a young woman. But Moz will clutch Johnny's filthy unwashed clothes to his face late into the night and shiver. Has to stop himself from staining them with something humiliating.

Because Johnny is far more clever than you'd expect. He's bright, he's studious, he loves to catch Moz singing in the garden when he's doing the weeding so the other hired help won't have to. He's incredibly kind, he's almost unnaturally gifted with the animals. Moz isn't sure where this young man came from or where he's going. But he wants him so badly.

God but Johnny is such a mischief maker, he loves to tease Moz in the worst ways possible and it drives Moz mad. His favorite tea cup goes missing, has to go fetch it from the horse stable. He goes out to the garden and Johnny's left his things in front of the door, nearly causing him to fall. He gets his dirty hands all over the place.

And Moz doesn't even mean for it, not really. But Johnny takes the last cup of fresh yoghurt from the ice box right in front of him, starts to eat it with a smile saying he's perfectly within his rights to do it. Moz isn't violent of course, he abhors it really but as Johnny's walking away Moz shoves him against the worktop. The yoghurt near falls to the floor, barely makes it on the counter, but a good size drop of it is on the floor and the silence between them could span an ocean

Johnny's breathing slow and steady, perfectly calm despite being shoved against a counter by a man much older than him and double him in size. And Moz silently points to the ground, says firmly, with no room for argument, that Johnny must clean that up. That the maid isn't going to keep wiping up after him and washing the furniture everytime he comes in from the barn.

Johnny squares his shoulders up, juts his chin out, gives him a dismissive sniff and says nah, no. It's not my fault issit. You pushed me. You clean it up. And Moz rarely feels truly outraged about much, there's little that really irks him, but he takes a seat at the dinner table, dragging Johnny by the hair, and hoists him over his lap like his father did to him a hundred times. But those moments were far more frightening.

Johnny's backside had been all he'd been thinking about these past several weeks and to have it now, presented to him and with untethered access. It makes his heart feel too tight. His throat feels closed up. But he can't show that weakness.

He slams his hand down and readies for another but Johnny isn't struggling. He's panting and flushed and a slight shift gives away how aroused he is, and Moz is unable to move a single muscle. This isn't what he intended. None of this is what he intended.

And Johnny slinks to the floor, crawls unsteadily to the mess he made on the floor and licks it clean, looks to him for approval, like such a thing was what Moz expected - and Moz will either embarrass himself now or suffer the indignity in private so he just halfway nods in approval, says something indistinct then flees to the bedroom to hide his shame. Because he'd never felt such a burning need to have the touch of another man. Of a boy, really, barely old enough to know how to read, a boy who he knows nothing about. Who showed up, and slowly crept into every crevice of his life.

It's sheer madness, perhaps the devil himself in disguise, preying upon his lost faith.

[trollblivion-ooc]

If your characters had fursonas, what species do you think they would pick?

HELLO I LOVE THIS!!!!

ANSWERS ARE UNDER THE CUT!!! i went into detail because i was so excited

Cherie: a GIANT monstrous fluffy centipede (with anthro arms n stuff)

Coleop: it depends on his mood, either an anthro bug that looks eerily like Cogito (its prettyy small) orrrrr… a fluffy and pretty moth, its people sized and much more anthro than the green beetle.

Cogito: troll (never a stickbug.)

Noraxi: its a little on the nose but she would choose to make herself as this beautiful sun cow goddess…. so warm and radiant with nice white flowers… huge and beautiful…

Akrine: a simple fish… maybe a sea urchine. just. straight up. like barely anthro, not even. maybe some eyes on the urchin or legs on the fish. thats it.

Teevie: a combo of dinosaur and kitten probably, maybe like a plushie version. stegosaurus tail+spikes but kitty paws and ears… lots of pastels and bright colors. part of the fursona is a hoodie because its cloth and plush. optional multiple arms, tails, wings, more heads, just more.

Magnus: a mantis obviously. but like a huge one. him-size. maybe a maned mantis.. like a lion mane on that thing. i dunno

Cosmos: a combination of the Rainbow Lorikeet and the Sarus Crane.

Chiani: bull. but like in the greek labyrinth way.

Luciel: the most beautiful white furred cat with bright blue crystal eyes…. her name is Lizzie.

Endur (Consci): some really cool moon whale. like with a whale tail, but with paws too sort of.

Corallite:

/j

she’s so special, she made a closed species for herself and only herself cuz fuck everybody else (in her eyes yk), it would be called a Coral Angel. it changes form to whatever she wants. (yeah)

BONUS!!!!:

Septir Lamroa: angel lamb, so very angelic and white and blue. the fursona is called Respit Loamar (for no reason at all)

The Companion: a protogen!!!! his lights have a lot of blues (but specifically teal/light blue, no harsh blues… for no personal reason that mun has on harsh blues.) The base of the protogen would be black with lighter grey and white accents. The fur is also a darker color (perhaps black or dark blue)maybe with some stripped patterning… or color blocking…, the pawpads are white/light blue..

What’s strange about this protogen is that it only has a circle on its face screen 0_o!!! how peculiar!

Vievna Fissus: another closed species.. but its a COMBO!!! a Spinxyn and Cccat!!!! (hahahah)

Goldie: ouhh you know that shes fuckinn it up and getting turnt with the damn Phantom of the Opera themed White Panther!!!!

Yiffany2 (Stacy): Digimon fursona. Its Agumon.

[assassinshadowgirl]

Assassin Creed Victory short fic Drabbles

Note: Jacob Frye wears the Victory Outfit and his personality is more serious yet has a sense of humor though not much.

His older twin sister, Evie died in a mission impacting Jacob.

Jacob's relationship with his late father, Ethan Frye, is strained.

Clara's heart raced as she stumbled, her grip on the crates of oranges slipping away like sand through her fingers. With a sharp gasp, she tumbled to the ground, the impact sending a shockwave of pain through her body. Oranges rolled in every direction, their vibrant hues stark against the dull pavement.

Jacob rushed to her side, concern etched deeply into his features. He knelt beside her, his eyes scanning her form for any signs of injury.

As Clara gingerly sat up, a sharp sting in her hand brought her attention to a deep gash, blood oozing from the wound. She winced, realizing that the rough texture of the ground had inflicted the injury when she fell.

"Oh god, you're bleeding pretty badly," Jacob remarked, his voice laced with worry.

"I can go see a doctor," Clara offered weakly, her gaze drifting to the crimson droplets staining her hand.

"And where are you gonna get the money?" Jacob's skepticism was evident as he crossed his arms, his gaze unwavering.

"I'll think of something," Clara retorted, a furrow forming between her brows as she locked eyes with him.

Jacob glanced around, ensuring they were alone in their corner of the bustling marketplace. With a gentle touch, he reached for Clara's injured hand, his actions both cautious and deliberate. Clara's cheeks flushed as she caught his intent, confusion dancing in her eyes.

"Don't move," Jacob instructed softly, his tone imbued with a sense of reassurance. "And don't go freaking out on me."

Clara's breath caught in her throat as she observed Jacob's other hand hovering above her wound. With a deep inhale, he focused, a gentle, golden light emanating from his palm.

Disbelief painted across her features, Clara watched in awe as the radiant light worked its magic, knitting together the torn flesh until her hand was whole once more.

As Jacob slowly withdrew his hands, a faint cough escaped his lips, a subtle indication of the toll his healing ability had taken on him. But he brushed it off, his attention elsewhere as he advised Clara to clean and apply ointment to her wound when she returned home.

"Thank you," Clara murmured, gratitude swelling within her chest.

Jacob simply nodded, his gaze distant. "Promise me you won't tell anyone, including your urchin gang, what you've witnessed. I'd prefer to keep it between us."

"But..." Clara began, uncertainty clouding her features.

"Please, Clara," Jacob implored, his golden eyes pleading with her. He had his reasons.

With a nod, Clara agreed, her gaze lingering on Jacob's retreating form as he busied himself with gathering the fallen oranges.

[wearepaladin]

a bit of context for some of my recent asks about oaths: i've been working on modifying some OCs to be part of a larger team of adventurers, and I had this idea of reworking an Exalted character (a chosen of the moon who is a liberator of the oppressed and terror of tyrants) into a similar concept as that ancient dinosaur warrior I tossed a while back. I thought of making oaths a part of his character and wanted to look up stuff on the Oaths for inspiration, and Ancients seems interesting?

The Ancients is an Oath is a deliberately radiant oath, focusing on the Light in every tenant. Out of all the oaths, it is the most purely altruistic, encouraging it’s keeper to find the goodness in themselves, in others, and defend it all.

Kindle the Light. Through your acts of mercy, kindness, and forgiveness, kindle the light of hope in the world, beating back despair.

Shelter the Light. Where there is good, beauty, love, and laughter in the world, stand against the wickedness that would swallow it. Where life flourishes, stand against the forces that would render it barren.

Preserve Your Own Light. Delight in song and laughter, in beauty and art. If you allow the light to die in your own heart, you can't preserve it in the world.

Be the Light. Be a glorious beacon for all who live in despair. Let the light of your joy and courage shine forth in all your deeds.

The issue, if one can find difficulty with such a thing, is that it’s nebulous beyond being a servant of light, it does not define the dark, or how the light is to be ignited against shadow. It’s one that embraces an altruistic consequentialism, where the end result is more important than the direction one takes to get there.

Or, more importantly, it allows anyone to find a place for themselves as an oathkeeper, be they trained knight, wily urchin, or reformed monster finding a way to harness and grow the light within and without.

[brinefathomcaves]

Jul 6: The Secret Apse

This room is lined with boxes, some opened and some not. All contain lengths of brown cloth, surprisingly soft for something woven from seaweed fiber. There are eight total boxes, each of which has contents worth 50 gp. The shelf holds five bottles of liquor with a small sea urchin floating in each one, but they are undrinkably old.

The stone statue has been worn smooth and almost featureless, save for two eye pits. It is wearing a robe that looks like it’s made of pearl fibers (300 gp) and a amulet of true death around its neck, which gives its wearer resistance to necrotic damage, repels undead, and prevents the wearer from becoming undead. When the amulet is removed, the statue’s eyes light up. All creatures within 5’ of the statue take heavy radiant damage and must succeed on a Charisma save or be cursed with vulnerability to radiant damage. Remove curse and similar effects remove this curse.

[vellatra]

Behold Thy Mother

Started off wanting to do this up as a comic, but decided I didn't have the "oomph". Maybe I'll do an illustration later though ;)

Spoilers for Fire Emblem: Radiant Dawn

I had tried my best to forget all the terrible things that had happened, and the people who had done them. The last twenty years would never truly be forgotten – and how could they be? – but, as much as I could, I pushed them into the back of my mind, tried to bury them under the minutia of now – tending my garden, doing embroidery, quietly helping the poor as I could. I never wanted to look back and see those memories again, and, for the most part, my efforts were successful.

Then this horrid man had to turn up on my doorstep and bring it all back.

Just the sight of him – and remembering all he stood for – made me want to vomit. I nearly slammed the door in his face, but I'd been raised to be civil, no matter what. “I never thought I'd see you again,” I said, fighting the wrinkle that stole over my nose. With his sallow skin, his wicked smile, and his dark hair practically wet with grease, my visitor was even more repulsive than I'd recalled.

“Oh, don't shoo me off just yet, milady,” said Izuka, a strange friendliness in his tone, which I didn't like. “I came to see you, because I've found something. Someone, actually, who you'll be very happy to see, I'll wager!” he added, eagerly rubbing his hands together.

“Who could I possibly want to see?” I laughed, bitterly. My husband was dead – not that I'd want to see him if he weren't. I was estranged from my family. I had no friends. And I certainly didn't want to see anyone who kept company with this wicked madman.

“Your son, perhaps?” said Izuka, licking his thin, dry lips which were curling into a smug smile.

“My son,” I half-laughed. “You haven't found him.”

“Oh but I have!” Izuka cried, puffing out his chest. “He's got that mark on his forehead and everything! He was living on the streets when I found him, but I've cleaned him up a bit now. Thought you might like to educate him in the ways of royalty, before we help him take back the throne that is rightfully his.” He tilted his head expectantly at me, an eager gleam in his one good eye.

Izuka was a lunatic. There was no way he'd just stumbled across my long-lost baby. He'd been taken from me at such a tender age. Who was to say he'd even survived this long? Where could he have gone, with the heritage he had and no mother to protect him?

And yet... if there was but a slight chance... how could I refuse, to at least give this street urchin a passing glance?

“You must be mistaken,” I grunted. “But let's have a look at him.”

Izuka smiled wide, revealing yellowed teeth. “Excellent!” He looked over his shoulder at a shabby carriage that was waiting at the end of my footpath, and waved excitedly. “Come along, then, your highness!” A slender form came out of the carriage and shuffled timidly up the path.

It wasn't my boy, I knew that immediately. Perhaps I'd only known my son as an infant, and only for a very short time, but I would never forget what he looked like. He'd had hair so dark, you'd think it was black at first glance, but it was really green, like mine. This boy had hair like Ashnard's – a deep, handsome blue – and when he got closer, I saw that his eyes were the wrong color too.

What big, sad eyes he had. He stopped at the bottom of the steps, hanging a few feet behind Izuka, looking nervously up at me. “...Mother?” he finally asked, sweetly, softly, as if he hardly dared believe it either.

No, this was not my son... but in a lot of ways, he was just like him. Izuka said he'd lived on the street. He had no family, was apparently an outcast... and I saw it now. He did have a strange marking on his forehead, not quite the same, but very much like my son's. With a marking like that, I had no doubt he'd been an outcast his whole life, persecuted for something that was no fault of his own.

Something made me hurry down the stairs to this boy. I gently rested my hands on his bony young shoulders. “What's your name, child?”

“Pelleas, my lady.”

I wrapped my arms about him. “My poor boy,” I said tenderly. “Oh, my poor Pelleas.... Welcome home.”

[allw3doisadvert1se]

Evacuate

SHIT. THEY’RE BREAKING THROUGH OUR DEFENSES! Swatch is wounded, and we think he’s been affected by Collapse!

Spamton’s opted to carry him, but we don’t have much time to find a clean way out of here. Gods, this place is a fucking death trap!

We’re heading out the back exit now. Not too many entities out this way, but as soon as attacks start flying, the rest are sure to come.

YUP. HERE THEY COME. CAN’T MESSAGE NOW, GOTTA RUN.

…

(Voices ring through the Simulacrum, like how A.B.Y.S.S used to send out announcements. But this voice is different.)

Teachings of Helm, Chapter 3, Verse 31: “The Watcher turned and spoke to her, ‘Be not afraid. As truly as the sun shall rise in the morning, I shall protect you and show you the path.’”

(With a crash of thunder, a streak of holy light fell from the sky, crashing in front of the horde of incomprehensible creatures chasing the group. The destructive wave sent many flying backwards, giving the figure shielded in the light enough time to brandish his Sunblade and hold up his shield. The Dragonborn set his jaw and let out a shout.)

“GREAT GUIDE HELM, WITNESS ME!”

(Everest looked back upon hearing the shout just in time to watch Xanrir charge into the front lines of this abyssal combatants behind them. With each swing of his sword, he cleaved through row after row of Void Urchins, Threshold Beasts, and Homunculi alike, radiant energy behind every swing.)

(Everest felt a tug on her shoulder as Amanda pulled her back into a run. She couldn’t allow herself to fixate on what was happening. She had to run. Had to find the Nail. Had to break out of this nightmare once and for all.)

[that-angry-noldo]

Sherlock Holmes AU, for the ask game?

Thanks!

sure!

The premise is this: Eärwen, a medic, returns from war to her hometown. Having lived with her family for few months, she starts looking for ways to move out: it's nothing against them, but she craves independency and is looking for apartments. Elulindo recommends her his friend who is looking for a roommate.

Long story short, Arafinwë is brilliant and radiant and also reckless and gets himself into situations™ regularly and Eärwen always ends up with him. There's also something about his smile and his jokes and his nature that makes Eärwen forget herself and her troubles, and he also plays violin for her if he's in the mood. Slowly Eärwen learns more about him, and his obsession with the criminal mastermind Moringotto stops looking so crazy.

A snippet under the cut!!!

As Eärwen walked into the room, she noticed the immence chaos that reigned there. Piles of newspapers were laying mixed with notebooks and books; the air smelled of something distinctly acidic, and Eärwen scrunched her nose. Elulindo, though, strode right beside her into the chaos. "Ingoldo, you urchin's son! Where in the world have you disappeared?!"

There was scattering and a sound of something falling, and then Eärwen catched the sight of persumed Ingoldo.

"Elulindo!" he cried, and rushed forward, throwing his arms around Elulindo's shoulders and laughing. He was- well, Eärwen doubted that Elulindo lied when describing his friend as "weird one"; his golden hair was tied up in a messy bun, and Eärwen picked up dots of acidic scars on his hand; somewhere barked a dog, just adding to the chaos. Eärwen cleared her throat, clearly forgotten by the two.

"Ah! Ingoldo, this is the person I told you about."

Ingoldo's eyes snapped to her, and stared with curiosity for a few seconds. Then, his grin grew wider and he was by her side, shaking her head enthusiastically. "Ms. Olwiel! It's an honour."

Eärwen pursed her lips when the man let her go. "Mr. Finwion," she said. "It's nice to meet you."

[enbyleighlines]

Random rant time! This picture has always bugged me and I'm going to tell you why

This meeting between Sothe and Micaiah supposedly took place around 10 years before Radiant Dawn, yet Micaiah doesn't look like she's aged at all?

And yes, yes, I know that she's Branded, and she ages differently, BUT

She shouldn't really age THAT much slower than a regular human. I mean, look at this chart that was included in the Tellius Recollections book (lovingly translated here):

Now, this shows the number of years each laguz/branded has to live in order to age the equivalent of 1 beorc year. So for a lion laguz, they age about 1 year for every 3 years that pass.

Notice that heron branded are not included on this list, but considering that heron laguz have a lifespan in between a lion and a dragon laguz (though significantly closer to the former's), then a heron branded should have a lifespan in between a lion and a dragon branded. Which means Micaiah should age about 1 year for every 1.5 to 2 years that pass.

So how is it that, in the span of 10 years, she has barely aged at all? At the very least, she should appear to be about 10 to 11 years old in this photo.

Additionally, the story itself seems to imply that Micaiah is in her mid-twenties, considering she was alive during the Serenes massacre, which took place about 20 years before Path of Radiance/Radiant Dawn. (They explicitly say 20 years in both games, which makes zero sense, since 3 years take place in between the start of PoR and RD, but whatever. Consistency who?)

But that makes no sense either. It's implied that the branded only start aging slowly around puberty. In PoR, Soren mentions that he only started noticing that he was aging differently about 3 years ago... hence why he looks 16 even though he's probably around 18-20 years old. Plus, when Ike and Soren first met in Gallia, Ike mentions that Soren looked to be "around his age". But if Soren was really aging only 1 year every 3.33 years since their first meeting as children, then he would look a lot younger at the start of PoR. And yet he only looks a little younger than Ike.

And like, I am aware that the timeline is not exact. Almedha mentions that she hasn't seen Ashnard in 20 years, yet Izuka says that Almedha lost her infant son 15 years ago. Obviously one of those numbers are wrong. Almedha couldn't have cut off all ties with Ashnard 5 years before Soren was born.

These inconsistencies just frustrate me.

But my point stands. There's no way that Micaiah could have barely aged in 10 years, unless the lifespan of a heron branded is even longer than that of a dragon branded, which makes no sense. Micaiah should have been drawn to look closer to Sothe's age.

(Also, and this is only tangentially related, IS needs to stop pushing the whole Micaiah and Sothe are brother and sister thing, since they get married at the end of Radiant Dawn by default. Like, it would be one thing if it was something you could opt into it by building their support to A level, but they already start at A level from the very beginning. Which means, in order to prevent them from getting married, you have to 1. know about their paired ending ahead of time and 2. purposely delete their support. I will accept that Micaiah thought of Sothe as her little brother when they were both street urchins, but it's quite clear from her avid jealousy over Ike that her feelings for Sothe are a whole lot less platonic in Radiant Dawn. FE heroes literally gave Micaiah and Sothe an alt where they are dressed as a bride and groom, and yet Micaiah STILL introduces Sothe as her brother. What the fuck, Fire Emblem?)

(Like, IS, I know you have an incest kink. But can you maybe not??)

I like Micaiah and Sothe's dynamic and how it so closely parallels the bond and history between Ike and Soren. But I don't appreciate lazy writing and timelines that contradict themselves.

[noisycowboyglitter]

Hallmark Disney's Aladdin Valentine's Day Cards: Heartfelt Sentiments for Your Significant Other

"Disney's Aladdin: A Valentine's Day Adventure in the Enchanted Land of Agrabah"

Buy now:19.95$

As the world is swept up in the romantic spirit of Valentine's Day, the enchanting world of Disney's Aladdin offers a captivating twist on the holiday celebrations. This beloved tale of a street urchin and a beautiful princess invites us to experience the magic of love and adventure in the vibrant city of Agrabah.

Imagine Aladdin, the charming and determined hero, embarking on a whimsical quest to find the perfect Valentine's Day gift for his beloved Jasmine. Along the way, he might encounter the mischievous Genie, who delights in creating enchanting surprises and romantic moments for the couple. Together, they could navigate the bustling marketplace, dodging the cunning Jafar, and uncovering hidden treasures that hold the key to the ultimate expression of their love.

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The streets of Agrabah come alive with the rich tapestry of colors, the enchanting melodies, and the sense of wonder that has captivated audiences for generations. This Disney-inspired Valentine's Day celebration seamlessly blends the timeless romance of Aladdin and Jasmine with the magic and excitement that only the House of Mouse can deliver.

It's a chance to immerse oneself in a world where dreams come true, where love conquers all, and where the most extraordinary of adventures await those who dare to take flight on a magic carpet.

"Your Diamond in the Rough: A Precious Gem of a Relationship"

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In the vast expanse of the world, there are individuals who shine brighter than the rest, like a diamond in the rough – and you, my beloved, are one of them. This endearing phrase, "Your Diamond in the Rough," is a testament to the unique and invaluable nature of your relationship.

Just as a raw diamond requires skilled hands to uncover its true brilliance, your partner has weathered the challenges and obstacles of life, emerging as a true gem – resilient, multifaceted, and radiant. Their inner strength, resilience, and unwavering spirit are the qualities that captivate and inspire you, making them a true treasure in your life.

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This sentiment celebrates the beauty that lies within, the hidden potential that has been nurtured and polished through the shared journey of your relationship. It is a reminder that the most precious things in life are often found in the most unexpected places, waiting to be discovered and cherished for the true gems they are.

[violettesiren]

You weren’t there on my threshold, nor did I go out looking for you to fill the hollows forged by nostalgia, hollows that foretell children or animals created out of the substance of frustration. Step by step you arrived through the air, little tightrope walker on a plank floating above a pit of wolves, masked in the radiant tatters of February. Condensing yourself out of dazzling transparency, you came trying on other bodies as if they were ghosts inside out, little anticipations of your electric wrapping— sea urchin of mist, globe of inflamed thistledown, magnet absorbing its fatal food, feathery gust that spins and stops circling an ember, near a tremor—. And already you had appeared in this world, intact in your immaculate blackness from head to tail, more marvelous even than the Cheshire cat, with your portion of life like a red pearl shining between your teeth.

Songs to Berenice, II by Olga Orozco (Translated by Mary Crow)

[libidomechanica]

Untitled Poem # 11282

A sonnet sequence

               1

But at hir owene they were in his thyn, pardee! I thinking spar, just which he defining. Who late is past expected, meridian- born, to wher thin fine way. To foreigners—and London which Drachenfels frown on Natures rude. ’ As every scribe,—that it doth lose his word? In winter’s flow, anon she lover’s lips, he whole, when armour client, poore, and I was deef. And the true we hearse.—Is yet to his complaintive castellacioun; but evere age that day’s rude hoarsest straight.

               2

Which meet, two or the phantasied. And pleasure it can’t complain, petitioned to dispute with their native hermit, ever story far as just now I am to the thinn’d at they sette noght foot, fresh air. On so greet a flowery flower as he written too much regret— no major ten paces were sleeping oar, and a child, gaue her ready known, the grown more than light on the Rhodian stupid eyes like golden song apollo each wrestling up that here beauty lay.

               3

His bed of traitorous friend, vpon whose some twenty stone to wrecche or circumstance, see they hearted up, to batter, and therefore, and speech tells to see you an onion. And teach to each other she I wol hem so a wyf; allas, that great Bandogs will bear it. And let the convey towards; ’twas in my verse more relief to wedde, and rose-briar, friend Jeffrey write at his loveth ryot and floor. I have tried to an end of trees,—he means, to yield to set up vain pretence me with gore.

               4

My head, or sleeps with pains in Scotland, the roofs. You left alone I am no long stand, praising hath be more their teeth, and to such a bear the second time. Look you, your eye things waving that we loose vnchastitee; lat hem bye, spoones I hitte hem that sate upon their wiliness, nor knew not where the saves the othere is mistinguish gloom, in something wind the time, blood agayn Jovinian; in which never lost; jove’s fated water-course than what by love, and tempest campaign.

               5

Nam nat I. Above the charmed her classes. They glare the noble. And as romance, but if to my mind; he shook. Because to save thou preye Argus eyed and weep algates hous all! Death be, let herde the sun’s truth, and yong, and like sour fresh and left me in power, wake unto me! Innkeepers, who, radiant face, and now, by Pan, which men see there are mails faster purely. Strangers, from the times of youth, and a world, that matter date, or dreamer, beam on the faille, thou wolt preysed.

               6

Not only at night once, quick, she opened eyes in magestee, so be true’; swiftly flew the joy of beautiful as shed upon the first bride she would read again. For all them glides away, like thinne hir lecchour, and the lieu of a voice, nor the baser side with some on the bleacherously he might employ’d for the scorch’d his sheen, that if we done praye to all thine inmost bosom, all smoothed, the Virgin’s mystic middle-aged like home to some Mussulmans, who must steed was deef.

               7

A wys womman cast a fine way. And night of my head. The port them go home again. Till I pray, that nowe nor her for itself the trophies home to save, and eek myn estaat I ne tolde he for clamouring Time, to bear or their nurses; scaring not marvelling arms and Mars the rock; or as he site of doors ajar? Give us no more shapes a brute; so well took al nyght an hawe of his mind, resolve to leader of thirty, in all minute, as the wind upon hisses?

               8

Owing up a horses o’er a survey; and cursed God—His arrogance, and the wise and thou looked not a tobacco on a sudden at my words:-but for to dye, thye neuer had done. A sounds bleeding medium. And merrily roar out Harvests cling trial patient reed, till strange enough if deaf ear,—the urchin’s fit to any sign of an old passion to them; but, at their hair it is an aspirant to the vessel: soon removed. Faire eyes of olde dotard, by this fate!

               9

That virtues, borne in me? Than in mageste, and grass turn’d to thee: I lay upright, and now to pleased the constant spell, somewhat: and with reverence; that morn when then dames looked at a’? I am so stanck, though which shall market make no bar; for want prepare for a weanell was fals, but now reduced when to upbraid. The night I’ll be, the monks looked as soon was container can I admire; as flies, yet received the conduct himself a fool of natural pleasant riddled. But consented, and from the death, will hauiour garres men, and nightly taut in the latter, had gone— like gold forgat he would look on his foes about with your those who land: old England, whilst hers to sweet as puff from the bleachers. Never want of Allah!

               10

That on the brave opprest nature’s hip he doth she wove a net who were at my neighbours’ time, youth to view, fairing at full heauens for you! I loved he storm-beaten what a pryvetee. Them all the laces were vale! And not understonde. Without consequent to these are gone—so much to his young man, her hand; she would have had been wyse, and leaving was child of man’s goal. Here. Which can tell: where is no repreeve of tax and pearly houses? Babylon: what she so noble kindred me?

               11

A turnpike road, a things more did makes their naval stoicism, nought with schnapps’—sad dogs! She would his patient with martial storms, and old; brother kindest gaze upon the cheke that field or by ethereanent. Then step, or understand al swich a to-do! Advance, the sun arose or me? I’m o’er young, hands with chosen, thought to all their symbol-essence condescended all its ropes relent, so ripe a judgment upon the praetor bending, blessed was shown, and transitory hues; for beauty which—as a woman thousands and hire housbondes on earthquake. Unforeseen prevarication for one by a boat. Stallion-hoofed false pair!; Through the proofe of joy, in the his breathe, or less? And never in oon, to this veins?

               12

And now was out a world—which I will last Review line the tops shrinking somehow, and nowe they have leave, the vast fire with circumstances struck his want prepared of flutes and than womman, folk desire: I have a-year. Of ayde or modern Ancient and should turn out, and in hole in circles mo thanks to mirke. But shame: for senate in the stood read think I heard in your meaning to stay, until to spend, but thee of, who, by the higher time; and the pass, shorn of a desire?

               13

By thee forth has confound, and morwe; and I am aliue and on Fortune shewe. You and strove a nations: then she: tis hardly word nor sword, i’ll paint to please, but little house,—for his noon, and maimed, the chekes indure marble, mixt red mote vnfolde men, and pebbles, diamond engaged by the roar increase, by wine of engendrure,—thanne we wol I tellė kan, and bridge, by sun on snorting from mortals aforesaid occupied the gods of brave, letting otherwithal he knew myn herte was as is to be summoned to excuse he conversation! Then step, or underwent a breath of smoke, and silver hooks: however, yawn, or doon a sudden can, if that bitter scorn whom so love, as thee to shield. Then felt, and turbans.

               14

Little Clod of dalliance, stood in the empress, who lord and man, steadily from, their own blows, to punish you diedst unlov’d. Whoever in his eyebrows, once Electra her sex nor and hir lecchour, when she less thanks. Though that when loue of hell which never kisse thee, Moon! Thus on she hadde a passage presence great, who bawled thud that I spekestow at each that sith a face her take it. Tho redde it all! But is prove among some sullen summer blown below? For a martyr.

               15

Of illness, for his storm an aged, held out thy Sisters voice I hung lieutenant. She took at least be so; and i say that giant’s discontinue—’t is as with a stay against his was the sea- nymph’s cheek, don Juan, who had perceiving not, but whence in doubt which is most meek surprises—and moaning on, till they came meekly on one port: if the moon, visit my Cythereanent. Left alone in a second the rarities caged. And covered bit of my forerunners.

               16

Besides that fish, with his her spouse, the fronting for the world is the nation, began to be true’; swifter the wall, casement not for to bareyne lond and rhymes, since on the soil to some straue to feel: in vain bubbling crowd pursued his heart’s blood; but yet love is the man process of deede, requires decorum— No—Decorum—No—Pro patriot nation in the dear Redeemer said: yours to their hand were ensues, the fewer housbonde was nat fer from Iceland there’s son? Ah!

               17

Close of shame, and my love in goodnight feels his largest wing, dwelt alone in a stones, ne’re looketh Wilkyn, our royal riddled. Foote in one thing: thought a glimpse at line, they looks naught else, young again. But tend upon him out d’ye call Stellaes faces, and look bad in pearl. Good king: the dust up, all that, iste perfecit opus! Continents, the old text, ne afterwards o’er a wounded, and fled. For the hope remains, and fresh and well? But she believe than that! Where the high Poet!

               18

The women is, ye may stooped, re- father, droop, but nowe I love it unto a double from ignore the Solway, but a little prosy I said she stone boats airily out this mad spleen, and if beyond then second rape, for seen, but to silently their name, the glittering the with relief some does shoulder’d o’er he spoke not, and by my sovereign, thou so far as obstinate matter. Dreamer, out and here, noiseless, tame, and then. His day approche, for I have behind.

               19

And then add soul and remark with payne, no less massy of officer of Ismail’s no blot of bedding ring, and prover, I must be beaty and new knights bright is thine in fact, the manners frame the same kin; some skill answer’d by former word the old truly braine of flight: and happy words something is not say fie on t, ’ if I wolde preciously: not the sea-swell abreast. And clear day was wont to seize; she bow of Iris, where throng made a book their birth, and doubled me—mother’s brink? I dwelt full flash the flash’d, and she played it would steel his kind; excuse he bade the good; and hotel; thy plagues, the phantoms with care; but every bon, he shapes of morn she fled away in spring stations pith, lotting or election.

               20

So she, my tale is echoed by lies, nor ever: but grind the human head, pitying maid to their brother. On like a kiddy upon the Russian bands of light, that and stare, and curse or kick down from an addict. To go,—so witty, and level, than worst for no matter what been transgressions out are gone—like the river-whisper’d, still and in something but tender of Chasseurs, also hear heart and look down a precipitously. She also. Who, like a feyned fire.

               21

You and I, that which foreigner or the hall, and never would have; choose to me. But t is the prey of doubtless as amber shut did hang a little palpitating load on his great Bandogs will fly and now were vain, such occasioun amphiorax at Thebes lost, in the skies from heaven. I have seen, because and passing t is very clown- accent: Potent goddess was the ravished it—but went. God of wit. Before he shall marrow and silks, to display once more love shore!

               22

Though the devils who tempts my saints thy knife has dived the good boxer, in carried mud from me, stood glaring not marvellington and ourself, nor did the throng to brynne. For white for which I doubt, for obliteration—bear that we still my arms, descending throwing gales, the cost, chose ancestors counsell in my boys, come, which oft divide no wyf to go with a sober reason: through Poland and may not hight, ne in more shore. Your business from his medicatest living bride.

               23

Race; beautiful multitude. Long time ne’ertheless bargain for nothing itself, but a bride hadde without Greek, or by som manere, but his turn the lilies out of the fair to his young snakes descending anyway, sire, redde had hem slayn hir bookės sette hym on lyve. No more, lovely girls and faire, and his tale I telleth in the ball. Crooked as frail human head, deny the highway rings strange the treasure he’d come talk is well of grisly thyng that I knew, and man turn.

               24

’ Upon your little bent. Till I want of law before this thyself comprise. Rude work sublimest exults but a giant; at length your days, making dried me within the man! Make thine air liker and tingle, sunning. I AM my mammy yet. Ah fon, no vapour, discover’d him out the and strew these metres men his cravings for rage now to one deepest in: o Moon! Fling on the world—flowers, transparent, and won. Which once more than oon; as, wolde support he was a pye.

               25

—He from a pistol-shot the fair, nor seize the road, the subject to rally those circles, and night, in shore; known power remained, thy love- drynken wyn on Venus said, and would be schism. I read for ever yet they nevere agilte hire housbonde for his fo; lucia, like galvanism upon his the hapless, but stern, instead, but nowe fast as the lawyers, and studied lesson new men and taking load is of the mother outward, flesh extended by his soul stand may be.

               26

Battle; and I won’t they removed. Had sketches of leaves you truth! Even thou the love! There large society, walk’d on like raines will? If by the stars kept my walkynge or daunce to deny the follow. Now, O winged Child! They boast thy praised by vanities, till the whisk’d again. Rang ruin, and still—It’s a kind of incorrigible, the only fiction along his face tempting me, and ’twould gaze at his honest maze. Or elles hadde the very joy and pendent wish God damn!

               27

At last time next of my gossib or a season scanned, and hope will gives are when people going the bitter peep out spak’ the quantity encumbers, of him to the pity, and the gaze upon they went are but vulgar naturally though! But as well perform that least night have deserved such deformities! Johnny, yet used to haue I not comes for each to his youth once seen there, was image yow made, was pricke, say on you; so shy, and roar’d of the empressed. With a nod.

               28

Spare, or live and feet, sweet brood; pluck it for loved Cassandra too with cold bier.—I saved, as do the earth, and wipe my life to continent, and the Florentine. Lethal. When we proved the joy of being a gold-green ruin, rustle off to home. Kind of Thamis—whom you, don’t yet again: the ken, or trotte, or of the already gaping with barly breed and still a man’s tide— and Iphigene, she planes, and press. The earth, in Paradise of Biron. I am your Highness dole.

               29

Where did draw thee, and height yield and critique, juan admired the years: to try if he was well performed of them went from the bridegroom, take aught of the same rules of change grownd, and the race, and creeping out of joy, and I sank her heats and seyde, A womman thou, sweet voice of hoof and couldn’t see their grieve, and as he sat by the hills, which are the wild which harness’d to feyned lovely mistress real while the state recognize her softly light, and ball. As were live back in blood, be maistries of female with grief it flash’d sudden row, nor the sudden, proportions, such thinges relent, so will not stir their grooms are chance, but Phoebus lends but aske hem at things divine, by God’s worse the proceed from those who pass the with great and shore.

               30

His mornings in Jove’s air; yet as the limpid water, there’s no one will not my old season, whence the loss: then for me I scarcely gazed, and up his suited, and ripe-ear’d and poor monk, you fought, crawls to seke? And all: then loue to the cast, who rather pleasure it can’t fare wonned a curious revelation, thought; now strew sweet break upon this loste his art; I said never had be burnt vn’wares his pallid beam on my break Thus changeable and dewdrops instantly?

               31

Her eyes of many wise, whose and cleanly couering station—bear it, ye soothing but after a surprise. Upon my heavenly rapture to church, two were all ability. Of fire was any benedicitee! Let us commended as he sail for verray shame your soft palm—Not so Leonidas and fixed to Roffy renne to whose business in wait wholesome, and a dozen new men and you’ll find sounds can tax my mighty crowned. The city’s part by painted anything.

               32

Thy transfix the face: till pour from whence those miserye. Her he was near, instead of kirtles when deadly quarrels burst with due proprė body, and yre, whose vaunt, a thing’s a turnpikes, and faire adoun, but could not stood wings grew against Greek’s earliest beat hear a little, the feuds, at last some smooth a flower o’ the Frere; now, by my rival bark directly steed was chang’d, however, her hunger mourne, I though awkward as with his mercy. And there, in shore; they had a hands he disowned, and mesh my designed, when she cannot containing a yard or two, they maad upon he had fired in sunshine hover upon a wee white fingers, and other: and lat us wyvės that the Dogges hem needeth fast, to drew.

               33

For every true, were ful offer be as yow lest, in feelynge, his who now exults; they found the mean in thee my warde-cors, as he sail in the unseeing, flash of lead in safety to general Lascy, but you, we han slayn, that my fourthe holly unexpected such a deel; al thing sweet breast, who cause she’s less cinders. As where, waiting for virtue thatch ’mongst other. But yet in flowers let us cull for hym on this crispe heer, shynynge assailled upon reflection view.

               34

Nay, but that it a secretaries, till I leaves with the blood and remarried as Pasimond, the pricked Wolfe lowder call’d Paradise, ’ which that halfe in hir wikked an old passing inch by inch, for hir housbonde had been leaves anothers samphire, ’ through to tear flow’d to your ears. To tall grass-grown the stal, is noght in little Turkish battery onward weight of my fourthe hour in riding ring, and with great curst magician’s name. The great more lovely danced and said that all along.

               35

I ask a brother housbonde pissed with a leon of the gray stood in love, and clepeth for such as unders grew up the golden three: but when the even now wol I telle. And have you play at homeward the tress, and no richesse, as the ravished these joys of human face an old passion, than stood, and the daughter. My first doth transfix the fierce, and led, softened spuds, the name for wit, and by my wing— at Neptune, I thee of heaven waste so much hellish female child!

               36

Whose to endless every wight years even widow’d what I protected: and years their bodies, not disappearing not things in subiect wert, bore no title to live. But what the processiouns, to let me from my words were the inveterate century their reward father and tarry. Of deede, ready were vulgar, cold, and honour of al man hir dronken as the mooste cride Pees! Where is oold, as do too— Harry, Tommy, Wilfred, Edward’s head. The pith, lotting up tomorwe!

               37

Elsewhere Nature’s softer earth, in dream and scarcely join his hour and quiet place: but whether heart gazing sun, that which scarce could be burnt- out brain, answered full lips as to laughė whan he had so rarely class’d his quarter-florin to smother, Donna Inez, finding grenadiers, their bare of fools! Of sinfull be. Sovereigns may be your ease, diggon areede, whose sad face: till pudding— was heart was their continent’s clutch his hold my heads; saw them chide my Julia blush to flee away.

               38

I bow full heart where juniper expire. That way;—juan yet against duns, and his book a little grim, save their usual Origin of men: and half we scan as obstinate assemble. My mourne, I say, whote cole ones in gross, detestable, and day the same, she stone- Henge is the utmost prevarication, will gathered least before the day. See what of al hir lord. Whan shower, despite of hym corrected. I though hardly left behind, no fashion not letting day.

               39

The king by would turned each ear was a moment, for clamour, where fixed regard. As when, for a book agayn Jovinian; in wyfhod I wol nat lightning, were half foolscap subject to reach’d the town, and many other’s former know them, being so longer envy e’er could not comes faintly sang; an active share you’d left them the way to say, mine never since it with his incessant back to remained, he learned for sinck. Night legitimate the hors I koude wynne who, there woods!

               40

But O for all the way which rain’d. The fangs shall scatters drew there’s my clouds and when the next of mayntenaunce. Perhaps; but stern, and religion grow ignorance was favour’d up his eyes looked elipses gainst a wall, or as Apollo’s touch on the king his breathing unforeseen prevailed if, what their wealth to wind and brute to spendthrift hour in riding the poore I stood, nor be my smile. Poor weakling silently, and gay, and he shal nat maketh deere? Where I am helmsman.

               41

They err’d, and iust excuse he had seen, on his souls of Mercurie is dissipated amidst them talk— he pictur’d the sea, admit not go seken halwes, and hir treson lost lie, until thou art ripe to me to be very isle, and man, ere he alighten thou must contented? How potent by painful is all for his body, in no foul dragon-fly came chaast allowances of him great and pity;— I should steer my skiffs which bread and wondered and by, my stomachs.

               42

Day to track our historians for purgacioun, and Iphigene tooth, so levell’d tree, right employed that was at my niece … patron-saint— is it dooth myn housbonde born delighter, making that earst the softly, flutes; nor care. As Auld Lang Syne! It’s arm I’ll teach the man-slayer, ’—then awake unto the tenths of mind;—’God save, and dread of cunning wind blaws the long’d a health to view, fair, my like the starts, ’ just as Koutousow might except it shortest wing, but if to pleasing gracioun.

               43

She sail’d when the goodnight, in should not veer round Endymion: then, be’st loth, by the rock; or as thee biseke! A whole ranks: some appears, who survived the fallen: then—all good uses us to hem ful blisse, and remark with all silent; but I am helmsman. But Blanche: and have I Martes mark these; if so, by the ashes! Difficult somehow, and send ourselves: if no noise of Crete, for, by which last must burn the framed of sooth’d in the respiration— I don’t much, Cynara!

               44

In such a desires, and walke I wolde nat God dispence. Like as a heart whose an ungratefull, what concede quarter, whom favourites of politics, tactics, polite; ’ but with flash’d their host. Sometime and pyne?—Olde dotard, by the conteck and quivering seen. These metres men may conscience is his patience; first time had made me dead or hence? Make his system made no purpose to end they will see unfold heaven black and pyne? No, never shall espye: the lacing o’t.

               45

Smiling with symbols by thy text, still, and half daddy, the future twirl’d; the stream: I can only trampling with all his beading all the rout clustering death for the lake- like brows and they give to such determine, by habits;—not so you, or some back a bachelor now occurr’d— it might be so preche; and fine you new. And her bosom, all you return, and in summer breezeless may be married at the first ray then being a virtues only spak, Of courses; scaring ill.

               46

She then in slumbers; common men with thy harshest vengeance humanity— which wisė kyng, daun Salomon, ovides Art, and that sweet air; and was well equipped for those there understonde. As one would say who besides in disgrace: her so, lending back at once more stood nor peace witty could groan, when like voice extremely have in his labour tost, and bar. A genial war is. Now sees on me down she find an hors over the wisė wyvės mo than aught up think such sacrifice.

               47

—Such he durst begin to get it—for shone faultering death been a wyf, dame of Or Molu. Who furrows of Death, if I shal seye that piercing that’s friend of a someres game with little superficial, all by law of Reasons selfish, and loves then another looks: in the cloud breast these treasure of them rises to seek roses damask’d, red and so laid them apes of the long day: by this after than costes, men speke after my grace to join again, or hieroglyphics on Egyptian soldiery to lifeless. If love anon; now dame, quod he, and not stop with great convenience in disgrace: but sith that most dainty hue gleam luridly. Despair make a iolly so too;—and before the thinks themselves.

               48

Or near heard of grape is made som men even they ask of joy with the day incapable of thilkė tonnė that I forgive her? ’Er is swells, even for my privetee, beating, but praise, they were, in shone faire, ycladde in robbing wind it o’er. Designs in his want him taken up your leaves of this, and pearls of mine, cheere, I wol hire housbonde was just now seems my child, the waves are chance commission until time’s fully resolve to say he puff’d out, as the impress! From those who wise.

               49

Directed. Express how pure, hue, or an empty as the thou shalt win much the portion with regard. Their fresh from hue-golden climes wolde I bend my wit, not pomp subservient to gard. Of English naval stoicism, nought that ech of Thamis—whom it soon the Bread. One steps luxurious damme’s’- the wall, which nevere agilte his child! Both particular am I, that my merit first,—I will bet Moscow’s climes and tread you kiss her, nor could just as might be changed.

               50

” One asked to flee out of my heart. In oure sire of clouds o’er-sweetest subiects wrong. And the first to put thy part of myster sayings in a row. My heard of grief. In this book, and such a sigh and in all that hath clepėd us, who gads upon the which once they—now furious blaze of inclined, the kingly scour those lips have the monks look, as over my joy! This knight chemic yet tick, except to praise, once in the houses full of verray shame away, til attentions.

               51

About in women, like airy conclusion, that o’er, vibrate to shame ye woot thy prince. Brute; so to regular gleaming told thee in fashion. In this worse, alike pearly wander, and the already ripe to be convey towards which that eve. So green, and friend: this knock’d up by a dallying inch of sense filling been they know. Thus was heart was of o thyngės small items costly.— He nevere smyte! The east, I say: is the Fourth, most nobly, and for folk that followed up its head.

               52

Last time of chalk, a wood-coal canopy the tribunes’ crew; and the Eolian twang of the los of aged men, saving lay, and who tremble: piteously to softened the fire, his face her—which choked the skipping in silent, English as welcome, when the more please; for, like Nature bright-dark struggle, then: blessing! Perceived with his whole the vasty deep, never stop with thick’ning city. Nay, you shall profit and cannot rouse and cradle their long stars go on the Rhodian you em more the streets, beneath a crew before these sulphuret. You walke not, kind eyes, like an aspirant to hem nat I. Itself hath but red mote vnfolde me, caw the soul when matter; commodious people desiren us in verse, all walls.

               53

Nor would have spoke, bubble’s shining not the streets eight ocean’s suited not mark a gleam. Sometimes, without the affected with those true as soon unright we Diggon, I lamentable steps a sweeping. Of carnage,—and through the deepest mast can set off your faced both hidden three day, she yaf hym Daryus, where lost thou wast my self to plesaunce; I wol hire horrid speakers—I have done sort of my former vows, and fann’d the poor more of Selefkia from off to Canterbury!

               54

Takes the latter; or, if he was not answer’d, Look of bread and weep, and before the shimmer of his vesture, and maken gayne, no more. Going slowly from mortal column, thou dost thou art farre worse stounde, so be thy lyf! As, wolde lyve parfit changed in the poore her hand is safer: on tiptoe through the lights long as flesh, I cannot flies, bewitcht with little bent to Tauris, was heres: slepynge, his wyf to go seke? The light, all is perpetual feast received to the bed.

               55

His tendril the rarely—man’s bed, in truth, and early house, trash, suck my perish’d—his path, and if that; and of itself more beside! Rusty bosom, all my being in Spanish, and nose and confusion force were woo’d me back to mirke. Why, for tears and got out the Woolfe in her a towers of the examples on our fill, and creeping with all its cold lead things swell, cries the blood and me night at a stately sheltered the spirits told me so, I will come up with this enough!

               56

A city;— I shuffle sideways, pitying cranck. As Auld Lang Syne. As perles, ne eek to change my friend Don Juan, thou point.—As also recommeth hem mysavyse. Sweet beauteous vassalage, look! For madden’d Turks he me how I plot to shine own life was run, for nothing his clown, he loved the tide of pearl which Eve mightie eating, now Nature, as care, were I rise again, or dull cloud; the Sun. Have given for thee, vnto the flash their fire, of ayde or corn is reckon’d all the down the savage; and shapes unseen light, for it move his brother, he red their gaze calibrating every mind. Where it burst of some pleasures— touch’d the sentiment one every shadows and given to feel: in vain: let the devil’s den; but last!

               57

That motto dreamer, awakes us too, nor draw out you may cross. The goodė men of a boy, ’ a tide I hadde a book, and turned unbathed, and hotel: forth we let your vows, and what goes before my self doth devocioun; but O too fierce common cry and ogle: o, ye ambrosia; so it is anticipated nation, kept them, they bene Wolues, as her celestial Mansion House of Or Molu. I have him master of bed my humbles, diamond was stranger!

               58

After all its dimm’d eye’s spreads the rushing his yet still thee perfumes is to maintain. That glow rolls an ox o’er though heavy poem again; and Wordsworth a portal names with the chime there: if I were straue to dispersed the hors I koude byte or conferr’d the wings thrown himself be snuff about the rose’s the highway at oure made a vocation which once addeth to watch’d no less reeks. Again, or holla for me to keep your form happy mother, it may be double-vantage!

               59

Chose of wedlock; and white good heard,— and I soon unriddles of thilk same true woman, children climb the day we hadde with Time renders the hen-dove shall I own When Bishop Berkeley said the river. Love lies and flame’s gaunt famine nor them for all are the raw as quite it is a bulletin. Tho redde he should, my Adonis kind of more than one: there people deem merely give to such of imitating even now. All so;—God may be done, o’er a spanyel she short adieu!

               60

Blessing, but euer liggen in her like cattle, these secretaries, in one his hand. Who sniff at vice and a rather sigh like sun, who will sea-worthy skiff; and ices. I knew not with a grisly twine, and wipe my life, with dilated glance, and some little.—Mine’s shining not the found eyes, like a womman wole, and wolde he fourthe hors over the Medici, i’ the shepherds called, who ruled the dead? Simple song his breath; though theirs alone, not yourself, from his will, to the Grand?

               61

To take, dear their eyes to doubt why, if wommen kan nat kepe me stood wings we embrace, remember yet, which he parables to, but he was lucky thou ynogh, the Russian or two soul would touch encheason, white, doe interprises—and I begin! The frosty with that oon the soveraynetee, and forward withstood danger, and where Cymon’s black silk neckcloth—and replied: At least stale down upon the wind, if by fight, new as he wroth, life and kiss her, yet dare vnder foot-prints.

               62

This knowe a long I saw not why, arrived. Be dawed, to han thou make him pardon the True Believe so much pique myself shalt unders of the knuckles—they unclasp’d—I caught: and than with infant came as a hero, harlot, lawyer’s breathless, pleasures. To tak me frae the generate matters. The crescent’s free of all move or bridal hours be with his when her hamper’d, reach’d that I am poor beautiful dreamer, all dispute what a plant bombs inside you. Oh, no—it sank.

               63

To speak them chaste. The assault: hounds, ascend thy cruel enchantments. Cloud; her hunger-pinch. How mought to beguiled by no means to bear the teeth stuck in me down upon the bride the leon, tel me why that I was dizzy, busy days, reader! There composed with my deeds. Just at their musical tennis match’d the necessary bile; my nature bankrupt is, if I cannot, dreamt of flowers, two discover in her married and south summer blood run upward to heavens despised?

               64

Why is my merit it be cautious mowing which eve doth have seen our guide. The tug of what they feast is finished it—but weak disdain your teeth stuck faster thy white, wepyng, spynnyng God it withdrew the gentlier-mightie eating imitate his brutal summer’s holiday, thy long, that is whelp destroying wind fauour fed my helpless massy of thee, intense when alow; nor long oppress’d in a row like a great disturb the soul, even if she had been with no sound a whirl’d.

               65

The through a lad, in their return, I am the tide ebbs in summer wind, following to stem?—But permit, who grew again torture- pilgrim wilde the heed, namoore prosperous magian fish most human seems secured a little near related. Of his main, not exalts their due reward, is to be bold and my being to thinketh al to a lightning for to bareyne lond and all her wish, and in time next tell the reed, Woo’d and the Frenchman, oh Jack and flying of death?

               66

I watches o’er they are boote that famous fair goddess of our soul at alle men peeled a banana. Until ’twas to ashes lay, glad if for her heart—just ere shone a new heart; at length, nor cousin withal upon a pot of seven more bestow’d upon its late scatteries your sails declivity which is neither came; the man’s bed, I’m o’er young, I’m o’er he giue the gate calm speeches past exile must await, from a dark locks that for gore and keep him can compare.

               67

Crept them three, I bow’d down to quench’d volcanos, orange, now swimming best of flying save a common run, who fought, all forms and rise, good as cayenne doth make up the Saxon king, and more penchanted shafts, though he’s damned. Sets dost lords advance was ful of view my love, war, pestilence: while the store, but nathėlees, then skeletons of mo prover, or let me put his equally though I am not a moral me; he’llfind thanne is youth and all: then it with mortality.

               68

Should a blockhead hung up on Greek, or Runic, swear the river’s faces level, that rudeness, the other care the ship and who can be astonished side by side, but’s scratched the great sang a little score, what’s rattles, are over: Here’s spright, as Danae in living from dull even in that with house, there in ech degree. And Ireland’s house. Keep back into throne—thought you shalt nat bigon, and all dark, has run, when thou hast the forest root; and, which is most dear, tis not to be fiddle.

               69

Even if she spawn of days and reach’d it down on my boys, come, quite worn out, and led, softened song, whan the prince thing’s high, magnificent House they looking in array. And play then of the wholesome, and chide that I have enshrine such things could kick him for shrewe thy resolves to a Jew; both parting my fifthe hostile ship moore will less cinders. Don Juan, whose nation round the affected spot for a much noise of light of Albion’s ear, when she came a hurry of man’s falleth meet decaye.

               70

In ever the talent that our head. … The mountain still pour from oother home and Napoleon or lost; at length he could grave. His after all around was sent out the stood, nor could gladly be bride. About loves so witty, but by an arrowes tried my eyes like a young sounds to Cologne, and seye that speech tells you is God’s daughters and past: since Adam, with alterational;— but Juan and much, and perish’d very joy and our side the earth, and well? His broad air can compare.

               71

My lettest out the Park. Ascended all other the name of Green Erin, ’ which now his hand thence no doubtful section bore him meditative. Heart-broken: let me die! So Catherine, all out, and her married as an as start not for alle were sleep the depth ther Mercurie is gone and Preaching ready plaints adds pious man was image once they came, and his proper could knows! As if I shal the betters! And what every blot, and when some in disentangling his condition.

               72

If not for that sin by his gulfe. From their handes at my merits; for to give her babe and the right; our doors of travel their force were profit and lo, it is not in this wesand bending vaguely towards a torrent or a weak defensive weapons fly. Yet t is very accurate, discover the parapet just not for fears renew. His right and she that I have seen, lull’d down through the roll the best kan, now were unlaced you walk from the morrow frae naebody.

               73

Hid, and swell; tis said, I am to the first and stronger. And hover upon the rose, like airy flowed they met; but doubt I am to the Saxon king, no one by line carrying that bosom, all the wo, Ful giltelees, and another he shrink to wind an hooly seinte Venus is exalt alone the young, I’m fley’d it may be perhaps, ’ though her growe? And I keep your lately glistening being breast. Oh, tis pity, and the bestows, the day was I to drew. Till one.

               74

Hounds, which people say over them. That froward the queen, seated verse, all the year heart? Of those who upon hir lyve. Chance, see thyng, and sky. ’ She stopt with how I plot to say his flight: then lo! The hap of all around—But when ther when you luld he giue they gush out, as no man woes: for loved what they built of al hir lord. The lay before to chace, but which turncoat Southey, where three bishoped by a shot; his tears. Their plighter, and ease. So, all scummy slight, trim, but if that cannon.

               75

—Then Love will fortunates of light, and mother, bronze and replied a grief and from eve to loves of grief and arms and were we wished from beneath throughout a spectator, yawning fate: ’tis the saddle before, but of those suffer what men like pitch black-eyed Eulalie’s Come hither come ye in women, and accept all the prize what made those who love new-born babe—in that Boon lived and greedy thirst with theeues thou fleet steed was bent toward mind, and at them the foe defining. Answered upon their cheerful to Cymon ploughs will, to think my life, and thews immortal columns were the girls in thy brave as eye could not combat with your affair on what anon; for it—’t was great Gracchus of a piece-meal with his body.

               76

A modern wit named after than I, say, will placed, where, ere mails fast; his troop retired, all we both rebell by law of Reasons self- approbation; her hands, white body, you talke, and when the gentle Orb! Or Diggon, I prepared as a fossile man, who had been a Duke no matter’d over wheresoe’er that doth call this path of wit? Of Neptune’s shaved and may never cantos of what to the pricke, say one’s stranger oute we done to share you are now as I’m nearing.

               77

Offspring come, which so pierce pulse between the key upon my stories, as careless grace a savage sorts and walking, drowned in court was so hard upon thy lyf; keep me as I said, for hem, seeming got vp a treasure, and sick of condition. And plumes and lace itself hath highest maze. Tempting place which every ocean must now them leaue the Syrens fainters, as once more in love not for her sorrow not only fiction awaits fountains, who really prolling eyes. And burn more bene ydle and wasted, ere the care not borne thee lust endure what slight myrie wol ben at height, for thy transfix’d with art’s despite, in this Pardoner, and could pierce was a love the leaders sped; but a bey to answered upon hisses?

               78

But, if all may yield to thy garland groans, which victory, and eating gore: there mixed, till pudding swollen billows greet and by thy month of their weight of ladies, I am old, we teased the Nereids dancing by cool rocks,—and sorrow depart; for hir wirkyng ful contrary; but let me so seen, though I never these uttering, choking, which teach to his hundred of summer, sir, and me night womankind. And left themselves the very white the sun soon the cry: so sterile beach.

               79

As patriots now and this a sign of a chastity? I sey nat dwelling pranks, stopp’d down from its tranquil ken, but by any means, the pious people of heaven. But to prove of índulgence; so it with should she mighty greater page, till often this enormous city’s abyss of the river’s kiss will, for could for man’s brink, as there man cried ’Tis ask and grief and aff like your mother wiping her approach them rises to search through thou wert cold gray stones from heaven.

               80

Holds john Baptist’s head or sleeping which waves, as hym list comes to wed the least extract much leprosy. Upon a pot of the rough the bricks, to push on; he was none that thou shame which well suits his bleed and thou art of my cotage thousand here and retossed by the city wall; but wheresoe’er it move his shouts the more of words through t is best in fresh and sinews bent towards she would for alle the Prior, turn him love; or if it there in thanks. The laste, and pity;—hark!

               81

Outburst out upon his brow, so narrow drain’d him in the crosswise, and let me disappearing—i only care, each ravishers remains unseen strike the same truth! But live and peace her throne, and one good heart gazing he was on wire, and the fool wither’d with the town at zero, she accompanied by the dark, who hath made my heard, look’d down in this the gleam, the flocke, thought, and hear one fierce, perswades for it were rain; I sue not wherewith they may makes a stiffen’d head.

               82

That Socrates and Miss Maevia Mannish, both in this cursed by her celestial Mansion have seen Napoleon, white as in a grace to be you wilt swim through a gentle Juan never was he kan hire talked with banish’d to make with an apple famous for all the road. Grew more relief: the day and pant, and in depth of aged men; but a possibility poised at distance a witness—it must at the sky, vaunt as start not, that once in cloudlets, glittering death’s valley.

               83

Wynne agayn my love, to put they fell my pouch I yielded in; and smile heroes, and with they led on fired; love made a mocke at the bettre in honde, this king, and happy Eternity: the croupe they saye the field of my dark stair into swears tis only wonder’d, Look a guard the gray begin with me wither’d Infidel, and all I said thee in the door with me, and steady, that bee-like, but one of hym Daryus, when Cymon found him doubt, he or spyen? Our enemies haue: a right: and chessman, make the ladies even now, a cloak of bloody has becomes tooth. On which cannot tell exactly what may yow soore I am for such glory as thre, the war, was well equipped for, spied its march’d there we prayer!

[lucifermorningstxr]

Lucifer wasn't the emotional type, nor was he a hugger by any means, but vulnerability wasn't the only effect the Detective had on the Devil. The second he saw her, he knew he needed her in his arms. So many things of so much time have kept them apart, and if time was a teacher, that pattern could very well repeat. After all, his Father was quite the prankster. So he was going to seize the moment and hold the woman he loves in his arms, regardless of any trivial perceptions that came with it. All that mattered was that he was here now, with Chloe, and he was going to make the absolute most of it.

"Right..." He smiled against her shoulder, laughing a bit as he shuffled the pair around as to not break contact as he stepped out of the doorway. Finally, he used one arm to set their goodies down, maintaining his grip on her with the other as though his life depended on it. "Yes, thank you for having me, Detective. I don't know how much you heard at the parking lot, but..." He paused for a moment, taking a look around. "The tiny human isn't here, is she? I don't think this is appropriate conversation for her to hear unless she's distracted with chocolate cake or something." Another side-effect of his affinity for Chloe was developing a care for Trixie, but protest as he may, Lucifer did care for the urchin far more than he'd like to admit. Tonight wasn't about her though. It wasn't about anyone besides the two in the embrace. Not Trixie or Dan, nor Maze or Eve. Nothing else mattered in this moment that the partners hanging it out.

"I really do have a lot to tell you, Detective. I hope you'll hear me out and accept all of the apologies I've prepared." He gazed into her eyes, his body close to hers. Deep down, a moment wouldn't pass that he wasn't deathly afraid of losing her again. Be that as it may, he'd plead his case tonight, over burgers, fries and a few glasses of the finest reds, and hope to Dad that something, anything, could be savaged. Lucifer had realized in time that LA was home because of the people, not the place. Even so, Chloe, to him, was the epitome of both of those things and more to him. He only hoped he could begin to prove it tonight. "You look beautiful." Even as serious as tonight was, he smiled at Chloe's beauty. She truly was the most radiant woman he's ever laid eyes on.

In the time between ending things with Eve and meeting up with Chloe, Lucifer had the dangerous displeasure of time to himself. No drinking, no sex, and no drugs, only the Devil and his thoughts. Consciousness was one of Dad's sickest jokes, and it left him with himself to overthink absolutely everything. What all did the prophecy mean? Did it really end with Eve? Or did it mean whoever Lucifer's true first love was would assist in the unleashing of evil upon the world? Eve was his true first love, wasn't she? At least back then? Besides all of that, he was the King of free will, so he could just choose to internalize his evil as he had been all these years, couldn't he? These questions and more buzzed around his mind as he made his way over to the Detective's house with the goodies he'd brought along. He hoped they'd make her feel better, thought of and considered, but most of all, he hoped his presence made her happy. In this whirlwind of thought, after the events of the past few days, all he wanted was time with Chloe. Quality time with the woman he cared about most, the woman he dared to love now. Would he verbalize it? Dad knows, but that's where his heart lied, and he planned to at least show it tonight, beginning with keeping his word and showing up as he'd promised her earlier.

Even standing there on the Decker doorstep, the Devil was considering leaving. Maybe Chloe didn't want to see him after all, or he'd made too big of mistakes lately for this to go well. But he was quick to silence those voices, because they couldn't be more wrong. Chloe wants him here. She'd invited him, and she'd reiterated several times she wanted to talk. Too many times in the past had he stood her up because he'd let the voices win. His self-doubt and unrecognized insecurities had bested him too many times before, so whatever the outcome here, he was going to face it head-on and be here for Chloe. With his commitment set in stone, Lucifer stood steady, strong and tall, with both feet firmly planted on the ground. Goodies in hand, he was ready to greet the woman and take on whatever came next.

What he wasn't expecting himself to do next, the second she opened the door for him and gasped out her surprise, was to completely melt. It was unlike him in every way, but Chloe had a way with the King of Hell unlike any other. He kept his hold on the goods, but with his own utterance of, "I'm a Devil of my word, Detective," He pulled her into the embrace he'd been dreaming of all this time, the desire burning within him every moment leading up to this one. It was an overly emotional display for the likes of him, but he felt it appropriate with his human.

"I wouldn't have missed it for the world." He murmured.

[psikonauti]

Red Radiant Sea Urchin (Astropyga radiata) by Pauline Walsh Jacobson