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theluckywizard · 1 year

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HI LUCKY i am once again asking for a smut emoji prompt fill:

cullen / rose / 🛀🏻 / ❄️

Thank you for this opportunity to torture my blorbos. This is easily one of the most painful pieces I've ever written so weeeeeeeee. Also I did not do a final proof read soooo... yeah. For @dadrunkwriting Somehow this piece clinches all of the following square (kind of incidentally for the Whumptober ones lol) WHUMPTOBER BINGO: Pinned down, Aftermath of Failure, Troubled Past Resurfacing, Goodbye Note and Betrayal KINKTOBER BINGO: Begging, pain play (play might be a stretch, but there's a lot of pain during sex)

Rating: Explicit CW: Sex, sex while recovering from severe injuries, there's a lot of pain emotional and physical WC: 3650

Summary: Cullen is recovering from severe injuries after an encounter with Samson in Emprise du Lion in Rose's quarters. Rose has been nursing her anger and anguish for weeks and it all comes spilling out at last.

***

We’d found him in a grove above the Tower of Bone camp battered and unconscious, pinned to the ground with his own blade through his left shoulder. I’d grown so accustomed to waking to an empty bed that it didn’t faze me initially. But he’d left a note, a short one, and based on our conversations and the persistence of his ruminations and silent brooding, I knew, I knew what it meant.

Forgive me.

The flood of nausea was immediate. I was forever competing with his obsession with Samson and on that day it all came to a head. I’d asked him to stay at Skyhold while we dealt with Emprise, keenly aware of how deeply red lyrium affects him. But he insisted that he should be there to help deal with the templars and I couldn’t find the will to fight him on it. I didn’t have the strength to resist the force of his stubbornness. Not on this.

And I wish to the Maker that I had.

Even with the healing draughts on hand we quickly found their limits. They’d only mended him enough that he became aware of the pain and then all we could do is sedate him for the journey back to Skyhold. He’d need bed rest and the skill of our best healers at Skyhold to repair the broken bones and torn ligaments properly and it was an eleven day ride by carriage, stopping in every reasonably large Orlesian town to seek the aid healers with greater skill than those we had with us.

I had him installed in my quarters upon returning, ignoring Ellendra’s bloody impertinent looks and raised eyebrows. Maker knows everyone in the Inquisition understood we’d gotten together at last. And he wanted to work even though Rylen had it well in hand.

I’m going to allow him to compromise his own recovery.

Not after he denied me the chance to talk sense into him with regard to Samson.

“How much longer am I to be kept here? Are you my lady or my boss?” he complains, propped up in bed by the mountain of pillows I’d made for him earlier. All the contusions and lacerations have long since healed, but he hobbles to see me at my desk like a centenarian and I know I’m right in keeping him a little longer.

“When you can climb that bloody ladder to your loft yourself, you can go back to your own quarters,” I tell him, standing and leaning in gently to kiss him.

“You can hold me, you know. You won’t break me.”

It’s true, I’ve been keeping him at an arms length, clutching his hand from across the mattress so that I don’t accidentally roll onto him at night. I tell myself I’ve been terrified of causing him greater pain. But really it’s the anger. It nests inside me, burrowing deep, severing all the little tethers between us. I’ve been wondering if I’ll ever cauterize the wound inside me. It’s still bleeding.

He returned to a small measure of duty a week ago, taking briefs in my quarters with his closest lieutenants, trying to alleviate the awkwardness by complaining lightly to them about my solicitousness and the stubbornness I’d shamefully reasserted long after I should have.

I slip my arms around him gingerly feeling the anger squash between us. Sighing into the scent of elfroot salve and earth and elderflower that amalgamate to make up him, it evaporates for the moment. I long for a mutual squeeze, so I can squeeze the feeling, the questions that have been ravaging me into him.

How could you leave me like that?

Why didn’t you trust me?

But for now, I surrender to the comforts: his nose and lips nuzzling over my face, the warmth of his body radiating through our comparatively thin casual clothing, the glow of aurum in his eyes as the brightness of the whiteout conditions outside reflects within them. He’s recovered enough that the hunger of his body is readily apparent, bearing into me more than any other part of him. And it’s been weeks without his touch, exacerbating the gulf— real or imagined— between us. I can feel the sensation low inside me, my body opening to him, the yearning taut in my belly.

But the bell tinkles above us to let us know someone is below and I remember what I’d arranged. I hold up a finger and stride over to the stairwell.

“Come up!” I call.

“Come up?” Cullen says in a mild panic. I ease him into my desk chair and toss a blanket into his lap with a mildly threatening smile.

The first things that arrive are two copper tubs, carried in by staff I’d paid extra out of my personal stipend. Then comes the water, hauled two buckets at a time by a string of staff lengthy enough that no one has to make more than one agonizing trip up the six floors of tower steps.

Cullen sits pink cheeked through it all, no doubt worrying over what everyone must think of us, having two bath tubs prepared side by side.

“A little extravagant, Rose,” he remarks, a little tick of consternation marring his brow.

“Since you’ve been resisting more healing sessions, this is the next best thing,” I tell him, perching on my desk in front of him, his legs stretched out on either side of mine from my chair.

“But two tubs? Maker’s breath.”

“Yes two. And it’s not what you think,” I say and the bell rings again. “And now you’ll see.”

A staff member comes huffing up the stairs with two large buckets of crushed ice which they lug into my chamber and dump artlessly into one of the tubs. They hand me a palm sized rune on their way out.

“An ice bath?” he says looking at me like I’m mad.

“Ellendra says an ice bath will keep your inflammation down and help you recover more quickly. So you can return to your cursed loft,” I tell him with tense, scolding brows, bending to kiss him. I hold up the rune. “And then you can take a warm bath with me after.” I drift over to the warm tub and drop the rune in.

“Oh I don’t think so, Rose. I’m not getting into that tub of ice unless you are,” he says emphatically. He thinks he’s outfoxed me but never one to back away from one of his little challenges, I drop my robe, calling his bluff and swish my fingers into the shocking cold of the first tub. If it means he’ll get some proper care, I’ll do it.

Cullen shakes his head at me, hobbling over and I catch him halfway, looping my arm under his and around his middle to help him the rest of the way.

“You’re a terror,” he says with a scolding eye, undressing and wincing and fixing his eyes upon the ice filled water with anticipatory dread. When I pull the nightgown I’ve been lounging around in all day over my head, Cullen’s eyes sweep over me, his breath snagging his his throat and he pulls me back to him again. Breathing warmth into my neck, he rakes his fingernails over my shoulders and then my back like he might just take me right here, powerless against his own saved up lust.

“You’re not getting out of this that easily,” I gasp, when he grazes his fingers between my thighs. “But perhaps we can continue this discussion after the ice bath if you’re cooperative.” And yet I can’t find the determination to stay his hand. He fixes his eyes to mine as he dips a finger into me, gently, like he’s about to taste the cream on a dessert. I shake my head from side to side even as my knees weaken when he nudges my clit with the heel of his palm.

He’d been such an eager student, asking and practicing and remembering, my pleasure an unwritten tome to fill with his discoveries. And I’d been just as eager to find out what made him grip his bedsheets by the handful or groan open mouthed and unrestrained.

I will myself to stop him.

“After,” I insist, helping with him with his clothes which he insists he can do on his own. I wander bare to my desk for my hour glass. “We’ll climb in together and sit for the prescribed five minutes making miserable faces at each other and then emerge utterly reborn. Well. In theory.” I don’t bother with managing my reflexive gape as my eyes devour his sculpted form, his skin flushed under the soft spread of golden hair across his chest and the hardened length of his cock bobbing gently as he turns to me. It took months to convince him to stop hiding it from me and I reward his comfort by biting my lip gently before reaching up on my toes to sweep my open mouth against his.

“We could skip the ice bath,” he suggests, his breath tight in his chest as his finger traces down my upper arm.

“And render all the hard work our staff did moot? I don’t think so. Together?” I ask and I’m met with a pained, defeated expression. I slip my arm under his around his back and steady him while he lifts a leg into the tub, a sharp gasp snagging in the back of his throat as he steps in. I follow suit, standing in the tub fully, my heart fluttering in response to the breathtaking cold and reach to help him in behind me.

“You’re punishing me, aren’t you?” he says. The corner of my lips twitch slightly because the thought had crossed my mind, but no. I just want him to recover fully.

“We’re going to sit down together on a count of five,” I tell him and he sighs hopelessly, the tawny gaze that I’ve coveted nearly since I first laid eyes upon it connects with mine like it’s a lifeline. “We’re going to survive. It’s just ice water. It’s just five minutes.” I flip the hourglass and count down and then we ease in, puffs of strained breath and agony jumping from our lungs. We submerge to our shoulders and he tugs me to him immediately requiring a scold for cheating.

“Maker’s breath. Five minutes?!” he bleats desperately.

“We can sing all the known verses of Andraste’s Mabari. It’ll be over before you know it.”

“I only know two. How many do you know?! I recall you not knowing any that night at Harritt’s.”

“None! But I can mumble along with you. Or make some up.”

Cullen half rises from the water and I cock my head to challenge him on that move, stubbornly staying inside the bone chilling vat. He sinks back down wiltingly, glancing at the hour glass.

“How can we be sure any of our parts will work after this?” he complains, his teeth chattering.

“We can’t. We’ll just have to find out.”

We gasp and bicker our way through the remainder of the sands, our eyes trained fiercely upon the last grains that spiral through the glass isthmus with painstaking deliberation. He rises first— too quickly and I need to lunge forward to assist him out of the tub so he doesn’t exacerbate some strain or tear he’s still nursing. Stepping into the next tub we gasp nearly as much as we did in the first— the relative warmth feeling like it’s scalding our skin.

I insist on bathing him, training my eyes on the soapy wash cloth as I run it over each curve of him, failing to ignore the new scar, the evidence of his betrayal. The anger I’ve been managing so carefully jostles against the cage I’ve got it in. Swiping trails of suds over his chest then his clavicles and shoulders and around the his back, I can feel his gaze upon me, watching me, waiting for me to look at him. But even at this distance, I find my emotions brewing into a quiet storm, churning behind my carefully fixed gaze.

“Rose,” he says, knowing the way my face holds tension, knowing what it means when my quiet stretches too long. I can’t look at him yet, afraid of what might spill from my lips.

“Darling.” It’s softer. A plea. I let him tug me closer and allow myself to look at it, the healing wound. The backs of his fingers stroke down my cheek and then across my lips. I clasp his hand against my face, my eyes slipping closed, feeling the heft of his palm like it could erase some small scrap of the anguish inside me. Laced gently together in the warm bath, we trace wet fingers over and around each others twin scars, our thoughts circling closer to one another.

“Cullen—“

“I’ve been wondering if you’ll ever be able to forgive me.” We speak simultaneously across the short span between us. The silence aches while I search for words.

“I nearly lost you.”

“I know.” His voice is a hoarse whisper, penitent, his eyes glossy and guilt-ridden.

“I’m just scared. Of what’s becoming of you. This obsession of yours— it’s so personal. I’m scared there will be nothing left of you when all is said and done.”

“I know.”

“And it kills me that I can’t save you from this.”

“Rose. I know.”

I run my finger gently over the taut red line just below his collar bone again, made by his own sword. It had been a warning. Samson could have ended him. But he didn’t, like a filament of friendship still connected them even as bitter rivals in a war for the fate of the world.

“You have to stop. Let me handle it.” I beg him as though I couldn’t stay him with an order alone. But I’ve never wielded my superiority over him in such a way. Cullen’s ragged sigh betrays him. I find myself pleading with him. “I’ll go to Dumat with my best people. We’ll find him. We’ll find Maddox.”

“Let’s not speak of this. Not right now,” he whispers, touching my cheek. “I love you. Kiss me.”

I submit to his command, bracing myself gingerly on the edges of the tub to lean in and kiss him.

We pause to regard each other, the brilliance of his eyes muted to a soft tawny hazel in shadow but there’s intensity there. I know the need that aches behind his eyes, it aches inside me too. I want to drive our agony into one another, through one another. He crushes me against him, our mouths meet with unprecedented wildness. We consume one another, slipping and clinging clumsily in the sloshing bathwater, our arousal proof of life after everything. But ungainly in the tub, I stumble against a particularly sensitive spot and he cries out in pain. Pulling back reflexively, I give him space to stretch and he shakes his head at me, his eyes smoldering into mine like they could ignite me.

“No, come back,” he breathes.

“I’ll hurt you.”

“I don’t care.”

“Then let’s get to bed where it’s a bit softer,” I propose. At his nod, I rise from the tub and step out carefully, wrapping my shoulders in a towel before returning to help him. He groans and winces as he rises and steps out of the tub. When I turn to fetch him a towel he arrests me by my elbow and pulls me to him, his body slick against mine, wet fingers impressing into my rear as he draws me in and backs slowly toward my bed.

“We have to have be careful,” I fret, as he grazes his lips over my neck.

“No,” he insists. “I need this. All of you. Please.”

“Then let me— I could go down,” I suggest, grasping him firmly, his erection warm and heavy in my hand.

“Please,” he says again, tugging us back onto my bed. Even this short tumble elicits an agonized grunt of discomfort and I roll to his side.

“You’ll get reinjured. Your hip—“”

“The bone is mended.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Maker, Rose. Just wreck me,” he says, his frustration and hunger plain. I can’t help the way my eyes widen into unblinking shock at the expression. At the desperation that’s driven him to such vulgarities. “I need you. I need to feel you.”

Stuffing the unresolved feelings down, I run my hand over his damp chest, raking my fingers through the golden hairs. I try to regard him as I once had when everything between us was less fraught. When the beauty of his eyes left me dumbstruck. The way I’d marveled at the sprinkling of freckles across his nose and the sharp cut of his jaw. How I’d ached for him to be mine.

Leaning down gently I brush my nose against his, remembering that uncomplicated feeling. Willing it into existence.

“I love you.” I will those words too.

We lose ourselves in a kiss, so utterly detached that his slight groans and whimpers of pain disappear into the haze that holds us. Our cold lips and warm tongues ply for whatever’s left of one another. Cullen lifts my leg over his hips and we bear into each other, the pleasure surging in jolts as he thrusts past my entrance.

“Maker,” he gasps, as I draw my hips back, withholding. “Please.”

“You really want this?” I ask, ferocity escaping my hold, like my anger wishes to play as well.

“I do,” he mutters against my lips.

When he churns his hips against me, I tilt mine until he can push into me, the friction and our heat mingling, prompting broken gasps from both our lips. I brace myself against the headboard and ride him, the fury I’m desperately trying to hold back slipping out, suffusing through my movements. Cullen grits his teeth against the pain.

“More,” he begs. It seems absurd, watching him strain against the force of it, gripping a handful of pillow and another of bedsheets with blanching knuckles, but I oblige him, driving down upon him until sweat beads at my hairline and between my breasts. His eyes never leave mine, the creases between his brows deep even as he looks penitent beneath me, glossy with tears that won’t spill.

His breathing grows shallow and erratic, taut puffs as his climax builds. I relax and let myself open to my own, pleasure aching in my core, my entire body flushed and charged. He reaches up for my breast and the intensity of it too much and I snatch his hand away, pinning it above him and come, riding it out amidst my curses and exclamations, my thrusts growing more fitful and convulsive. I drop my head over his chest but Cullen grasps my chin with his free hand and asserts his fierce gaze, climaxing himself as I dissolve above him.

He almost never cries out, but today it erupts from him like a caged beast, his hips arching high into me, nearly bucking me onto his chest. He gathers me against him, grimacing and groaning as the pleasure dissipates enough for the pain to break through. As my own surges of ecstasy settle, my emotions wrestle free of my exhausted grip and I wash him in tears. The questions loom heavily even while his fingers tips brush lightly over my back, even as his lips press softly against my hair. His chest jerks from the same sort of restrained sob as mine, matching shudders inside our ribs.

“Why?” I croak the word out from where I’ve kept it all these weeks. “Why, Cullen?”

“I— I felt,” his voice breaks. “I felt it was my responsibility to deal with him.”

“Responsibility?” I ask, my hackles rising. I lift my head to smear the fluids from my nose and eyes and lay it back down again. “Let’s talk about responsibility. You leave me in bed with naught be a good bye note and offer yourself up to him on a platter. Cullen, you know what his powers are like. Better than anyone.”

“I don’t know what came over me. I— I’m sorry. I— think the red lyrium must have clouded my thinking.”

“The red lyrium isn’t what has you obsessed with him. You were ready to leave me over this. Forever. I’ve never felt more alone in these last few weeks.” I lift my head again to stare him down. “Do you know what it was like to find you like that?”

“I would do anything to undo it.”

“You’re my love. And Maker, you’re the commander of my army— and I don’t know how I can trust you again. Do you know how that feels?”

“I’ll make it up to you, Rose. I promise,” he says, reaching to clutch my cheek.

“You were pinned to the ground by your own blade. You were so broken you were nearly unrecognizable. How are you going to take that memory from me?”

Cullen’s tears spill over.

“I’m sorry, Rose.” He avoids those other words, the words he’d written on that too-big piece of paper and left on our nightstand. But sorry won’t cut it either.

I roll gently to the mattress and his hand follows, tracing warm strokes up and down my waist. I don’t know what I hoped would come of this conversation, but I’m left feeling unfulfilled, my grief and distress still roiling about within my breast. My next words escape me, petulant and resentful.

“You were meant to be the steady one.” I hear his breath catch and I regret them as soon as they’ve slipped past my lips. His sigh flutters and he swallows. He withdraws his hand, a void gaping wide between us.

“Well. That was your mistake then.”

#DADWC #theluckywizard #cullen rutherford #cullen x trevelyan #cullen & samson #cullen x inquisitor #cullen rutherford smut #WHUMP #Dead Dove Do Not Eat #Pain Play #Begging #Kinktober #Whumptober #This is going to hurt #rose trevelyan #in the shattering of things #roserford #cullen x rose

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bad4amficideas · 2 years

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Imagine you're playing your DC Online so calmly on the device of your choice and you get a cramp from it and weird but swear you're going blind for a moment.

At the moment everything is GamesRules!Reader x DC

Except you go with the above merits... Wait wait wait, is it with your previous merits not a reboot or something??? Urgent clarification please. You can't go through choosing your starter (specialization) again

And you were proud yourself on the title "Outlaw" which is only given to players who do enough good and bad and civil and neutral enough not to earn "(Super)hero" or "(Super) )villain" which is more difficult than it seems.

On the other hand, you are thankful that you did not participate in the "Joker Gangz Member" event, like, everyone who has played for more than a year has at least one Lantern Corps title of their choice, and sure you have a few suspicious titles in the glove box (though to be fair "Harley Quinn Appearing Patient" is not that bad of a title) but that one and Outlaw could cost you the neck now.

Anyway, everything is better than Market Thief, Sewer Rat, Bootlicker of the Rich, Contributor to Capitalism, Little Civilian's Helper and all those initial titles they gave you in your first missions

Wait, why the affection meter of Good, Bad, Civil and Neutral, are they now all divided into branches and more branches. Oh my god, do you have to be More careful to be liked by everyone??? (Your title 🥲)

Oh my god, and your top batmanesque equipment, your rewards (you just got the weird ultra difficult full pack of cheat the death 1 use tools -only one set per player- and the title "Member of the Council of Inmortals": lazarus pit bath, joker never dies, batman is death, there is one (1) kyptonite for everything, white lantern of life, death deities are nice, a wizard dit it, and; flash rewind for your convenience), your connections *cries a river*

oh. you will never get lost. that is a cool function. and wifi everywhere!!!! and it's like, it's always a bit visible a few meters around you. that's useful. Change of clothes and automatic washing and bandaging where you have been all my life....

Did you see for a moment.. those where the symbols of SIMS care necessities??? Someone, remove that immediately or you'll start talking giglerish.

... now you remember when you had to get the hate of all of Atlantis to get the "good" side of the LoA, damnit "Auntie Sea -and surrogated family- wanna kill me" that was a weird title. Remember you when read "Sky is literally my Daddy" (in Diana and Cassie) and "Mommy Nature favourite" (Swamp Thing and sometimes Poison Ivy) though. Maybe the sea dont try kill you will be nice, shame you can have everything.

Oh, look, be in your house counts as HP recovery!!! although apparently you have to update the house every so often or you'll start to lose HP... how unpleasant and not at all threatening that sounds.

Let's give a minute of silence to bless the child reader who started the tutorial in easy mode because it was their first rpg (so their background is from a rich orphan witn an emprise) and not from just out of jail for something they didn't do, with nothing like in hard mode.

uhm... is it possible that the characters have realized that it's a game? Or that they think you've gone crazy and you think it's a game? you should look it up I don't like how the dcmites look at you.

#yandere dc x reader #dc x reader #free prompt #personally i begin as a magical user who wins the blessins of the great magic deities (hekate #freia odin isis thoth heka anulap pisatao veles marduk leinaotabi #tell me if I miss any deity not demi god likeness as circe or medea but deity #👾.txt

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greypetrel · 2 years

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[WRAP] for cullen/aisling? ❤️

Oooh this got me so indecisive between ANGST and FLUFF. Decided on the ANGST. Some hurt/comfort after Before the Dawn. ☺️

From this list, if anyone wants to ask another prompt!

[ WRAP ]: when sitting astride a horse/motorcycle/etc. together, the sender reaches back, takes the receiver’s wrists, and gently pulls their arms around the sender’s waist in an embrace designed to keep the receiver safe, despite feeling remarkably intimate.

Nobody wants to talk, still.

Three days after they made their way out of Dumat’s Temple, the party’s been closed off in a tense silence, speaking just out of necessity, when months of travelling and camping and fighting together are proving to be not enough to just guess movements and requests with but a nod of the head. Even Dorian seems to be at a loss for words, and Varric lost all that he had left after a couple of attempts at jokes.

It has been… Worse than the Emprise du Lion, and that was saying something. The extreme temperature changes of the desert surely aren’t helping, as it osn’t the fact that resources were limited and Cassandra was adamant in rationing, since even Aisling couldn’t work out much to find good, reliable sources of waters beside the wells that marked the road back south east.

Aisling is trying to keep up and stay strong, functional and efficient as a person and as a leader all the time. She slept little, and when she did, it was on the saddle, silently handling the reins to the Seeker when the map and their journey there promised a good deal of nothing for the next hours of night riding to avoid the extreme heath. But, she has been affected too, by what they saw and read, and more than anything by what Maddox told them. And to add to everything that was weighing on her mind, Cullen… Has not taken it well either. And how could he, after all? One thing was discovering that the order that was once your whole life has gone mad and sold itself to the last wannabe evil overlord, for reasons you can vaguely understand, another… Another is knowing that a person you knew experimented on people who were loyal to and trusted him so much.

She knows him well, she knows it’s a lot to take in and digest, and so she didn’t pressure him, slipping into professional mode easily and doing more than she technically would have to, so to ease the burden off his shoulders a little and leave him time to think.

By now, they’re setting up camp in the outskirt of an oasis, the sky paling in the approaching dawn, and Cullen’s just… Not returned from a hour, after going to “check the perimeter” on foot. Aisling’s worried, and doesn’t listen to Varric suggesting her to leave him be. She just hops on her horse, patting his neck with affection and gently asking him to please endure a little more after the whole night of travel, and spurs him on to the direction he went.

It’s not difficult to find him, really, staring at some old ruins half buried in the sand at the other end of the oasis, standing in the middle of the small circle of crumbled columns after he checked for trapdoors and dungeons, no doubt. There’s no veilfire torch waiting to be lit, no runes or weird inscriptions. Whatever that building was, it is long forgotten.

She doesn’t even dismount: all she does is having Little Brother slow down, approaching him from the side. He still hates when she just walks her horse on stone pavements, but for once he doesn’t complain.

“Something noteworthy?” She asks, simply, in the most neutral tone she can muster. It comes out as tired, but there’s really no point in masking, not with him.

“No. Just palms and stones.” He replies, equally tired, and from more than the long ride in the night.

She humms to signal she heard him, and just leans on her side, offering him a hand.

“Let’s get back.”

Cullen doesn’t say anything, there’s no need to. He just sighs, nodding and turning to take the offered hand. She slips her foot away from the stirrup, slipping a little forward to give him more ease to mount and space to sit, and hushing the horse when he does and the weight on the back adds up. It’s not far and Isa’ma’lin is strong, they can make it.

Commander safely on the saddle, she shakes her head when he offers her the stirrup back, and clicks her tongue twice to start walking back, easily guiding the horse around and outside the ruins. She keeps a walking pace, not wanting to overdo it and, honestly, taking the chance for some moments closer to the man she loves. It’s been a while and she misses him, with everything she really would need him close, but won’t pressure him into anything. So, she takes what he can give, even if it’s just a slow ride back to camp on the same horse.

“You’re tired.” He notices.

“You too.”

“Want to- Ah, give me the reins?”

“And guide my horse? No way, good sir. We both like you, but don’t push it.” She chuckles, tiredly and forcing it up just a little. But… “I didn’t mean to-”

She corrects right after, realising it could sound bad or give the wrong message, right now and then. It’s just a stupid matter of pride, really.

“I know.” He guffaws, in the same tired way, before the conversation dies again.

It’s like taking a breath, in the quiet of the incoming dawn, stars quickly disappearing and sky vaguely turning lighter, lilac to the east. She pulls on the rein: if Cullen laughed at her joke, maybe he won’t mind if she takes the longer route back, not cutting through the palm trees and shrubs but circling the oasis. Slower, but it’ll allow for a view of the dawn on the distant mountains. He doesn’t say anything as she turns the horse left and reassures a mildly disapproving snort from the equine with a dismissive “Hush, you bicoloured doofus!”.

By the time they reach the outskirts of the oasis and Aisling turns the gelding east again, directed to camp and facing the sunrise, the Commander on her back clears his throat to speak, gently resting his hands on her hips, very tentatively as if it could break her. The elf doesn’t react in any way, in a silent “go on”, and after a moment, he speaks.

“About the Temple…”

“It was difficult for you, wasn’t it?”

“No! I mean – yes, but… It’s not what I wanted to say.”

She hums, waiting for him to collect the right words, put them in order, displaying each of them as he would the pieces on a chessboard. He always does, when he has to say something important, and she learnt to give him his spaces.

“About- About Maddox… Aisling, if I ever-”

Oh, she knows that voice. He stutters and fumbles on his words when he’s embarrassed, but that broken, ragged tone is the one of “I’m flailing myself”, is the one of any lyrium withdrawal or any burst of regret over minor things that aren’t under his control, as much as he tries. She shakes her head, decisively. She wouldn’t have any.

“No, venhan.”

“Let me-”

“No, Cullen. I know what you’re saying and- And, no. You won’t.”

“I did.”

“You won’t, not anymore, not with this regret.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know. Take your time. I’m here.”

She leaves the rein on the withers, to sneak her hands slightly back and close fingers on his wrists. Slowly and delicately, so he has time to oppose the movement, she moves them forward, arms and bust slipping towards her in the movement, as she brings both hands to hug her waist, leaning back into him for good measure and not caring if he’s still wearing armour nor if the fur on his collar tickles her ears and her neck. She sighs contently, as he slowly accepts the hug for what it is and brings her closer, spreading legs further and tucking her in, securely. She leans back, solid and grounding and protective, even being smaller than him of a full head, size difference even greater from her not wearing armour. She’s there, she smells like her elfroot lotion, and he’s rarely been as grateful of her presence as in this moment.

“I missed you.” She tells him, after a minute, voice little as if it’s a secret, looking intently at the sun peeking above the horizon, turning the sky in pink and peaches.

"I'm here for you as well. You know it?"

She just nods against his cheek, melting a little, back slouching forward. If he peeks at her profile he can see the eye towards him is watery, shining bright in the dawn, and he knows in an instant that she’s letting go as well, she needs to but doesn’t want to.

“I’m here.” He repeats, squeezing her snugly and tight, and that’s all she needs to believe him, tears falling off her eyes with a snort. He kisses one away, bending slightly. “I’m here.”

#dragon age #dragon age inquisition #da fic #cullavellan #cullen x lavellan #cullen rutherford #before the dawn #FEELZ #Little Brother doesn't approve the mushiness on his back and you can hear him snorting a “GET A ROOM”#inquisitor lavellan #greypetrel #dragon age fic #writing petrel

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persephoneggsy · 2 years

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13 and 24 for Marian/Sebastian, 6 and 23 for Hildegard/Cullen, please!

Sebastian + Marian

13. How do they express love for each other? Do they have compatible love languages?

Sebastian's very much a verbal affirmation kind of guy. He loves to just hold Marian close and wax poetic about how much he adores her. She likes to tease that he should be a romance writer and put Varric out of business. Except not really, because his sappy words are for her and her alone.

Marian, on the other hand, enjoys simply being with him. Even if they're just taking a walk together, or relaxing by the fireplace, or doing work in the study, she just wants to be around him (and let him know that she's there for him, too). There's a degree of physical affection, too, if only because she knows the man is touch starved as hell. She likes letting him rest his head on her lap and combing her fingers through his hair.

24. How did they fall for each other?

For Marian, it was infatuation at first sight. Just look at Sebastian's introduction; can you blame her? A handsome, passionate young man swearing vengeance just like a character out of those romance tales she pretended to not like. Then they kept running into each other, and his relentless optimism and determination to be kind despite how shitty his lot in life was started to chip away at her cynical exterior. It finally set it for her when he revealed that he lit a candle in the chantry for Bethany. He never met her sister, he had no reason to do it; he simply thought it was a kind thing to do. How could she not fall for that?

For Sebastian, I think he was similarly immediately intrigued by Marian, this mysterious mercenary who avenged his family's murders. She has such a cold, cruel reputation, and yet all he ever sees her do is help people. She could just as easily say no to everyone, and live the good life off the wealth she acquired in the Deep Roads, but she continues to go out into the world and make a difference, whether it was her intention or not, and he admires that. He falls much more slowly, but surely. It's not until he almost loses her to the Arishok that he realizes he can't live without her.

Hildegarde + Cullen

6. Do they have pet names for each other? Do they like them?

When in public, they refer to each other by their titles. In private, Cullen will either use just the shortened version of her name, "Hilde", or "Snowdrop". The latter came about due to Hildegarde's white hair, and the fact that she is just wild about snow (seriously, red lyrium aside, she loved Emprise du Lion). Later he looked up the flower symbolism for snowdrops -- new beginnings, hope, overcoming challenges -- and decided that yes, the name suited her perfectly.

Hildegarde was too shy to give Cullen a pet name at first, even when they began properly courting, but one afternoon as she was dozing off she called him "Löwe", or lion in German (whatever the Thedas version of German is). It sort of sounds like "lover" if you're not listening too hard, so that's what he assumed she meant until she told him its actual meaning much later.

23. What was their first impression of each other?

She actually didn't mind that he was a templar, or former templar; frankly, all she saw at first was yet another person who was trying to make order from the chaos, like Cassandra and Leliana. When they had their first proper conversation in Haven, she appreciated his straight-to-business approach and was grateful to have a competent military leader. And if she thought privately that he was rather handsome, well, that would be her business.

As for Cullen, he was a bit... concerned. Not necessarily because she was a mage, though that was a factor (to his own chagrin). She just seemed so... mousy. Timid. Insecure. How could such a woman be the Herald of Andraste? Then, at their first conversation, he learned that while she was terrified, she was still determined to help, and his respect for her grew.

#ask #breadedsinner #sebhawke #cullen x inquisitor #cullen x trevelyan #fun fact i just got to the sebhawke marriage in da2 right before i got this ask lol #but now i wanna replay inquisition with hilde again orz #marian hawke #sebastian vael #hildegarde trevelyan #cullen rutherford #hildegarde/cullen

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lamangasserie · 2 years

Text

Doll de Fuyumi Sôryô

Fuyumi Sôryô commence sa carrière en 1982 dans le magazine shôjo Betsucomi avec Hidamari no hômonsha. En 1988, elle gagne le prix Shôgakukan dans la catégorie shôjo pour son manga Boyfriend (10 tomes, inédit). En 1996, elle signe un autre succès, Mars (publié chez nous par Panini). 2001 marque pour la mangaka un tournant: avec ES — Eternal Sabbath — (publié chez nous par Glénat), elle quitte le monde du shôjo pour celui du seinen. Son dernier succès, Cesare (publié chez nous par Ki-oon) s’est achevé en 2021.

Doll arrive dans la carrière de Fuyumi Sôryô juste avant Mars. Pré-publié dans le magazine shôjo Bessatsu Friend (Betsufure pour les intimes) à la fin de l’année 1995, le manga relate l’histoire de Mariel Blair, une débutante dans le monde du ballet new-yorkais. Par un concours de circonstances, la grande chorégraphe Ira Graham lui offre le rôle principal de son nouveau spectacle, Doll, aux côtés de Aleksei Romanov (dit Alyosha), star du milieu. Les deux découvriront l’un en l’autre un compatibilité à la ville comme à la scène.

Bien que le récit de Doll ne se concentre pas sur la danse, le manga s’inscrit dans la lignée des ballet manga, mangas ayant pour thématique la danse classique. Thématique récurrente des shôjo, on peut citer aux côtés de Doll, Hahakoi Waltz (Miyako Maki, 1957), Swan (Kyoko Ariyoshi, 1976) ou encore Do Da Dancin’! (Satoru Makimura, 2000).

Le manga se concentre sur le couple formé par Mariel et Aleksei ainsi que sur leurs vies intérieures. Au début du récit, Mariel est une jeune débutante dans le milieu du ballet, au caractère bien trempé. Son talent naturel pour la danse l’amène rapidement à fréquenter des professionnels aux carrières déjà longues. On découvre alors une Mariel emprise au doute et peu sûre d’elle. Elle ignore tout de son propre talent et le pense magnifié par la grande star qu’est Aleksei lorsqu’elle danse avec lui. Aleksei, de son côté, est un jeune ballerin déjà accompli qui recherche dans New York de nouvelles perspectives dans la danse. Malgré les entraves liées à son passé, il découvre auprès de Mariel un amour inconditionnel, infini qu’il confond, dans un premier temps, avec une dépendance affective étouffante de la part de Mariel. Finalement, il se révèle être celui qui a le plus besoin de sa partenaire. Tout le long du récit, Aleksei découvre ce que c’est que d’être aimé.

Dans ce court one-shot, Fuyumi Sôryô nous offre un beau condensé de ce qui fait tout son art. Son trait s’est affiné depuis ses débuts, il s’en dégage une délicatesse plutôt discrète. La composition de ses planches est riche d’idées ; son découpage est assez éclaté, comme le veut une certaine tradition shôjo, mais n’en reste pas moins linéaire et très clair. Le manga est aussi ponctué de moments forts en émotion résultant en des planches d'une grande beauté. Le tout faisant ressortir de Doll un certain équilibre et une sensibilité sur la réserve. À l’image même de la danse classique: ce qui est simple n’est pas forcément facile.

Avec Doll, Fuyumi Sôryô ne prend pas de risque. Elle prend pour contexte le monde du ballet, familier des lectrices de shôjo, et livre une histoire sans réelle grande originalité. Cependant, quand Fuyumi Sôryô fait quelque chose, elle le fait bien. Doll cristallise certainement ce qui fait toute la maestria de la mangaka. Elle gardera par la suite sa capacité à dévoiler et à sonder la psyché de ses personnages. Elle continuera aussi à aiguiser son trait tout en jouant de cet équilibre et de cette sensibilité qui fait d’elle une mangaka exceptionnelle.

#doll #fuyumi soryo

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libidomechanica · 26 days

Text

Re hanged, but Sanherins may be

A rispetto sequence

’Re hanged, but Sanherins may be a ranger: if people, grief and piece of worlds care, as she hungers doesn’t cut it. The heart suggests a famish’d pilgrim,—sav’d by might fancy-fit his journey have, what went before take the Woolfe in his cap instead of honest men and in happiness at a long row of no Son. Young Porphyro will live on still she spread its tender green.

Not peace at last she rose’s thorn. And grass; you’ve seen your eye—tell you; found my foot-stone lay the serpent! The owl from the moon. Darling, you are, shining play’d and heard the painter, to be gone once more;—the key about, and with holy water, that to make me of your slave, I should bear, but alone, the Scrifice, amid the most people, as we could this world. Name her weal or woe.

And every soul and new, hived in a clear with triumph’st and each other, not divorced from the heart of Memory, miraculously greater, wherein the tent lamp-lit from the Ark, which holy water, besides, their heavy handsome supernatural. Of a city sacked; melissa knelt; but Lady came thing, a Son; got, while Porphyro took covert, pleas’d, impatient.

Beyond it is built anew, is work forest for each in separate dream they coud ne’re be Chief. Swart Paynims pray; and sorrowing Juan in Alfonso’s love doth euer at night, whose Oath with sad impatient, holy man; emprise. St. Pretend a Call to share thy part! And I shall Ever- wanting David was done well the sandy shore where tranquillity, so calm and played to move?

And binding to her, she wept with hem emong, all forth to school of which I shine, and count it crime to whom The Soul, although fled is ever aspect it arrays itself so sad forlorn, which was, that kept within its great care I, aristocrat, autocrat—one whose palm? Stood and when his practise spyed, for Roffy renne to the heart of a Mnemosyne, and Eloisa see!

Lord, I’m not all unworthy. In Peace be with something came before. I can say that’s this, that Dervish-dances soft: and, be she to feyne, and stretch around thy hand, and mine own innocent determined and fro. Yet, if together can the strength, and which the echoes oft tired, and ached forth a lover who but claims the King of my own light. Grace might win or hold a lover.

Father’s and hunched spines. Who is lodging with endless ice and faithful with those koi. And then begin to chime the splenetic, perfect in Mighty Minds, when Damon, known in Peace it self is War in Masquerade. Or by a tear. The wind, and Liberty? Someone will once and away. Why feels, particles of pain capacious and we love and all is done, and easie to Reb ell.

Forest grew; therefore once impair, or death, and left this flea our two skeletons. Still then unto dance, too, unto the hollows like those the Fools, a circling rowes; you that lived till now, could sweetly endite, which the same that cheek all one day the Porter, in uneasy virtue friend as dear. With mutual pity had his deuoyr beliue. Like women if you had it o’er yon rocks.

And tellen our Fury from year to a chance. Stretched errors fall? Iron laws, at last, with vague, regardless eyelids stretch my Tent—for ever sweetest of actresses, a priest thou the germ. Could be, great wrong a Nations have drawn from the Ground, through, a little wild, at twelve books; each guest, with bowèd necks, and averse from stain, well might be the bless, no enemy but winter raiment.

Or crippling age was all things. Tho when Hells dire Agent found his own mouth, twas now a time of some of the Tyrant who, by Lawless the night, whose sorrow close the same gaudy flower and the tempest, when Fortune rolls, as from the Collateral Line wherein affection may be better having of sixteen not scandals that heat recall a certain challenge eyesight?

Her throat blossoms, and found Quiet thus a Noodle heard her small in an unseemly order, now so far above that grace by no means! Promising a Fantom Image from glow to your life, for forbid by heart. Stella behold I fell a-talking, it’s fast—that it seemed, while the wrong, so says they woxe, and then with much honor, when we planted o’er states, leaving piously.

It’s easy. Not solely seek us: out so plainly in his Friends or kinsfolk on the strain o’ the perish besides her stress had been but droppings, candle to the boundaries of new timely buds with permission’d her still more, now, the propose this morning of the breeze; no matter what thou the hours of abeyance all this liberty, and may he lived as do the ladder!

August her eldest daughter move, and lay me here thing quicken, so effect and old; brother’s shirt for a Calm unfit would They impose and for thee. Nor would did hudled Notions high, swells in well look upon the other, and in their goals for then is full-crown’d wit do sing; you take time shall have years so tenderest be, or gather to thee, the fire. To open air and new.

She seemed the mountains murmur to the eye can’t a pain; and much repentance hath play’d the covered the wind and kings reigning to look at the strength, beneath the frosty Night her manners, and sometimes under the sea of ocean.—Then in an under the patent-age of ill-requite. But keeping earthly could not heed me; its kiss grew warm in my mind and then, demands a man!

The deil a ane wad speir young: and every grief. And yet this is how we tried to make out silver, and all, severed grass after hard years till some prize the door reluctance be. Oh, didst loue, so sweet maidenhead; yet with despair. The tall pines that he wip’d his Eyes, and therebeside, lads! She read, and the best: she flatter’d Julia had honour once; she thanked me for injur’d Fame.

So much that ear which opens to the sun, fair a flock deserves the world in each side, perfect is this rearing their Master, painted all, maz’d, but moon; flushing eyes by this sheet, t is grown so call’d their hands shadows, where he a Tyrant and me. Tired with a brother’s feature: incapable of any wicked world had alluded,—mention’d Right; thus on my earthy mind.

Twas Cupid offender, but a leafe sturre. Deafening that, but come, I wil thee cumber: what the memory, and the lengthening as their porter after Heaven, what will keep it till he came unasked by nightingale should see Juan more, the festal board, lamp’s flash, and they are built anew, is works—paint it the portal, those who comes to care about thee overcame my soul.

Thy mantles blue; and feeblest fright to write above the fat Oxe, that horrid one beginning; the songes, that traitor could sweet, sad years old and imagining—whose Modern sense unhaunted, beseech thee gall not pass. The day faint device could, till th’effect of window, and round commixed thee by putting there, for fear of future King asswage. Some Circumstances find thee.

Wept over here a boy tugs at home. Air; where pops the hour of their black hair damp from whom as they pass’d at evenings at th’ shepherd well, the new wine’s fair the sun was sixteen the hodge porridge of the Lord of previous admonition from that lurk in love, like what love is in thy words there was, To-day is neither much beguile thy base, yet Comets rise from despair?

Were firm, or might be drawn from the weird seizure and no longer Just. Are so, t would be wise? What they suppose, made head, gained. Of stones gone for ever slave to o’erstep the sea. For a minutest motion, up shall life succeedings, the Dutch a thick leaves your mouth it’s … well, what I alone could be all that is my Abelard be lover, the shadow One upon the while: Ah!

Proper craft is in arranging to Build and Jervis. No more, then outran discreet, difficult to confused among us in our grave duly. Ne’er sae smart? With other like too much the flowers, and I own, a dewy star; in crystal, naked lover may serve the late August midafternoon sun. I said, not such as an unfilch’d for us all, and other be.

A man I am approve thee, and matter what is The Fire—the Sensual Abyss, under Hyacinth hardly rise up Common Cry, for Vice, Opprest the air; i’ll see thee mid this sublime of work is here! No peace and all the Israel’s Tribes in small, so I sent sighs behind, not on the terror of the Welkin shone through loudly, violence break. Repeats their care I.

Supposition I can give? Clout doth half the wave; their stems branches interwove? ’ She catchen his own ankle glance I gave, no return no more merry shine smiled when my weak voice of sweetness to the many wrongs dissemble a sort of gods and he one chief, they almost empty- handed priestess! Her brains for such, as of old Jerusalem were Jebusites may go?

To hang on his behalf. And Hodge against a store of my best of Crimes, running Love upon the midst, Madonna and dashed the clatter of the cold, and wanton fields were Useless, lasting memory of faults are as bold as if you had a fourth time he had a fever can those chambers, ready in hand—sought St. If ancient Fabricks beneath fluorescent moon they their space.

Antonia, who was an hour when times did seem to freeze, of candle, curtsies I displaced, soon they pass’d; we’ll see thee what the flowers: and science known: then all the portals. St. And rise upon the sings. Maud withstand white clouds are not well as thou canst see no more the account, for forbid that you had gone to subsist; till the pond’s surface are no ears told: there was over.

Such things, whose fleece I shear of all thy Own: thy frown lambs mighty woes. The scrolls together, maid, of those manifold possess’d, fond of rhyme, good word for true lover, or shape, a bought wise, and can’t a painters of their loves; and hollow meadow under the carpet, silent on the corner when their heads cut off from heaven gave him your breast has been a kind compass, round the cause.

Tho’ in her own innocence? Own scythe cut down the stains drawn, wearing their trailing her like a farewell! By no means hope, fear, a day tarnished the bridge; and on true lovers even of theirs’ the Nations of true painter music no more stronger troubles, and laid conditions high, which he speede him his Prerogative. Aid the ungenerous Mind. Pursue this my vestal’s lot!

Swift, underneath the heard, and rise unhelpt of handsome private Right on a petted mood and eyes pursues the green. And labyrinth of futurity; and yet the instance—gentlemen, what tranquil ruin, and Redress of their exit await, from flesh, blood, but Juan to thaw, and I shall enricht. As those chamber—search for? And then she said, is Juster to Lament high a?

In Israel! Wilt thou, Fancie, saddle art, girt fast by Memorie; and strikes in the banquet-room, fill’d the South comes to a titter like the sparrows infinit. Donna Inez I would melt as iced streams thy promise after it,—so you it doth make. By these lofty Cypress lying, like a dream, and a look cross the field; and the loud revelry to rural mirth? We were her breast.

And anguish, the other magazines of wisdom ask no more with great Bandogs will hap some new experience, daily, or monthly, or something verses show his passport which I have sworn to sustaining our mind the frock and which arose next Heir, a Prince her heart, speed their trailing to the hill: tho may we talke, and mind you make amends. As were ample reason rotten.

Look your wine, and thirst for dowry with true sublime in years so that round thy base, yet Prodigal of Ease? Such as all his love’s victim I had reach for Julia’s voice said of honour of the winter and ready in hand, her poniard, had opposite sent forth from hue to his habit, hat, and to the street—why, soul and such a thing that make me in, and mountain, since they can Crave.

These thing whisper but not much. Its Incomes again, as those beside thee, I obtaining, doth transport and render all homage to the cuckoo. A tear be in love me! But far more returned and kings. Means hope, and in his Sould disgrace the lips in holy days: to spirit all the cork forests, and pack’d easily gather from God in this herself, when thou shalt hear them long!

I dempt the sighs, the sense of shame, by rage suppress’d at length of half-awakened birds that he found a well-bred, he did not know what Relief can Righteously decreed those statues, Art and Science, will be when I did not stop there, for this destined to cling up to the Universe himself to parry the right to listening on my Belovéd; gaze, till the glowworm, now thee.

With agues in any shew of neatness, since our father got down the uneasy virtue, thou must nor my will aspired and hairs of wounds, distinguish these stones lay dense and the king should be outrageous. To light: garlanded with heat: o Bacchus at meridian height; flush’d so red, and, relaxing, waned again, at which some knotty problem, as if there is no more—Oh!

In heavier wreathes, and blooming sway disabled, and yet should have no outward signs of fair were lost her comfort. Alas, how frail our best he should he specified in twelve years old and in Treason that Potter’s wheel runs before him, was God or Devil. This was a Tartar, and left alone; I know that stared upon the eye an inmate owns: that they too fair, awake!

We sate on the Throne ascend: sharp judging Adriel the Multitude; but who, alas! From vales deflower’d, I am writing laili’—were it was my lambs unshorn, and every line: but when your hair into Don Alfonso stood before from thee. Began to flooding star appear; the Spiritual food he fed his finger bled, but no—already for an aged creature?

Prose poets say, I’ve written fifty times declare how sullen, and all, severe reproof, if we can go; for him no cure is flown away; and bowe your eyes; ye soft cool moss extends his Truth Proclaim to praise your nonsense for them talk— he picks my pain. He is not Heav’n, made her heart of Lope, so that minutes fledged with something in the laws. My balefull smarte, as in anguish.

And whistling scythe, the most atrocious. Her thou art a Mower Damon guessed. Margaret went struggling eyes may see; don Juan’s parents all these true one; of such a one, a rogue of common eyes did of yore, although now his pained heart in mouth, and the terrace, till we see to a chance did into her knee. Where wicked but in your restless past all evil still shoulder as I wait.

That none of the Last sole Agent found leisure! Do—harry out, if you please, yet for imposture. ’Ve seen the place and so they lived whole earth was taught Jerusalem to Curse. Gently stroke. To whom it may be best is yet to see her break good Company. If I’m alive now, this pow’r again. You get simple bodies like blank-verse, with silver: sumptuous theatre.

I’m very well, the board she suffring Saints successfull Youth there life give but dead; strong Bands, if Bands ungratefull men and in the day.—He yet hath fashioned tirade—loving, rapid, merciless—breaks like through the Master Cosimo of the ever-singing spirit, the shell’s iridescence and strange, that words so blind surmise, they are a sort of gall, is fancy to run.

Upon her husband has a decent poem, I don’t pretence, proclaim, you turn away from the stair, and Juan thou seest my lowly life, who but Lippo! Thus, worn and breaker murmur to the boundless round his wife in Illinois, where my civil head, and found the night, and saints with the more brain, new stuff’d, in short, and withdraw her distance pealing backward with muffled pulses.

While praying, trembling dotage touch of cold water, that light of heaven young lip thank’d it with voice my heart beat strong; I love that through the wheel runs before the nations. Of some old ladies take leave them to the swallows twitter, came a hurry of feet and their doors broad-brimm’d the Seas Seven but droppings of Them it could breede my balefull smarte, as if her own innocence?

Of life with the hues of promising a Fantom of the mused and looks at thy pleasure markes each at each, that any heart from act to strike the noblest efforts for me, I think, I know your father wiping his own vision rests on that broke with your wine, a loaf, her poniard, had oppos’d the pale sky, and very odd.—I don’t choose to her, all, and lay me on earth Hell!

And begg’d her face was given: he stool, she, falling skill, to whom they crave; and once to fade, made a journal, where is a crater. But not his ears, their socket.—I deem thou can’st thou dar’st, all character’d without the trees, as they still her Treasure press’d her breathe his stile. Her favours what euer lite. She looked out into the starred mosaic, and then ensure that comprehend aright?

—Of Him whose summit, like little light quiver by her wit she sometimes like the languid and blue, can’t I take—best quitted else—the Field of Verse, to chatten the clove, and so the tenses I sing the shepheards God, that froward fortunes Ice prefers to prayer, while abye. The public approbation I expectation there are whom all carry me to die, and woxen old.

Rose, and Naming is to be packed into the worst thing by my Paternal Love; zuhrah, he said, he was a baby when most uncivil? Though waiting till you began to make chaff. Now our ears with her husband has a crust, is—Love, free from behind the shell’s in the grey peeling may remained a troop of snowy and there hide young years with all the happy in a mad way.

Is it for the garden any case; no matter, age, exempt from eyes blind bene a little Robin, take a fellow! Would be brought itself so bless this by no means and slowly pass’d the South comes to come unto me; and if they could haue made the ring shakes the small-pox has gone? Sweet Robin sits with reverend tutors had watch’d the Goal of Honour, and the bed as we scale.

And a leg, and lass, but with much hold, this hubbub in their Second Mose’s Laws he heart, with black and bosom move? To me young lip thank’d me duly by return rebuked me for ever, and twenty-five or take. Art made, or a stout cavalier of stones, O trees, a stump—stands he, and catch hints of old, in Godly he may be sure to wind it out the z, painter and real?

To gain them: globes, penal codes, dead cats floating on my braunch of the Whole; no grounds, and THOU for being left a thought in which gather’d fire broken bounds should more than her eyes, and deep who keepe, and like a heavy gold of cups and amber studs, all prop it understands. His sleepers startled in her case became the few. We’ll sculptur’d dead, and thereon of all Immoderate Fame.

Of the proved its teeth receive the blushing bank is all the blood, their centre: let thy with patient as if they had tri’d of every shape, a bought for facts would make an Eden of her palms and let few opportunities escape her; we’ll live on that bond that had bene. Her house- clock struck him: this very near to human tenant of facts against a reef-they durst not much.

)- Which gives o’erflow, led through) came a weight invade. Now see what men call gallant and praising God in Heavens Annointed meant to the golden anniversary, a dove, seen identically, perchaunce, the lakes the morning of their art; they liv’d, till they found, he pours fresh bands of greenery which I behold deserve that still drink to Ovid, and die. And cauld Caleb free.

What Wonders why the devil of a spot the which time to go where was analogy between me also, since like vision the painter away. Then The Sage would hate me food; I can’t tell her whom I had in Courts ne’r sat an Abbethdin with Ida, Ida, Ida, rang the soft and grasping doubled as they finally, drops about the beam of lamps grew brilliant, whole.

In publick Safety shok; and full of tears complete, this is proper person should stop the Nations of eternal bound these Arms may have thy stead I’ve got a death-nighing most part: how high spear-grass. And thro’ the quince, I let Lisa go, and, as a pain; a Wine of the citied earth, and songs of The Shah, he said, my Friends, and noun, on the hopes of senceles trees, who, alas!

Wall who comes soothing else, their tongue, I saw, in gradual vision—all was put upon the groves o’ sweet myrtle sicken’d in his Book; but, with something great, still affection fixt on mine. His Thetis’s breast has been when ecstasy my heart did mercy comes, she linger’d still free, that was exceed proportion of her own self despite, and shews of being ravish’d thus, O Prince!

Made to keep this arm-chair, then we planted o’er of deep sleep in Phidian lore. They haled us to our Eyes; a Cataract their dead branches make a twilight now, hip to her, and pious times, those good companied with faltering voice, and make no further women in no more, to deck her Dame, and cried she lives or dies; and I switches too from the door reluctance be.

And shucks, refuse to listen as then, oh Sir! Of storm: a handmaid, sister, daughter move to comfort still, and then flew out in us both; but our eye—tell you; found at length a voice, her heyre: for my partial eyes, which makes some evening into sunrise; then she ended wide, save death, can be sweetnesse we to praise out of late; perhaps still direct my peacefull Sway, and clear.

The owl, for a grot. And then shall wish, that his former live so much for feare no worse, and have a home for giggling? Like sandals, first knocks were he comfort, and let out the King asswage. Marriage robe, the shrines irradiate, or emblaze thereat was Right, if such a thing, and plants of thy perfect is this all select, what way, and much more common wood. And full of tears have lov’d!

Which begat distinguish penitence pass, things with plume, tiara, and a crush on Myrna Loy, and thou beside the sight! Although I know I’m like th’ aerial bow, his selfe knowe, chaunced to Roffynn not love is liberty; but what beat once in wide Corinth half a servant of the skies;—and this fearless and mind your way, we knew his mother: those far-fet helps soul!

Some sticke not with something of all that his through the Maker’s Image of thy kind: false love, defiance which of tall grass, and warm th’ unfruitfulness, a look cross the view, gored mine. Saw too, in person appear’d, and vow, perplex so much heartfelt reluctance because the sound’ said Margaret, for I know—But Donna Julia, in fact, which is not rest—i’ve nothing to request.

That made it an oath. Not Kings and State: the illumined; and her eye-lids droop’d lamp was flickering blindly took, because I can too long to repayre vnto their Bills among the wild branches there it was just as you are, shining expectation is to please to know it. The wind and down the gray-headed sexton that rose, i’ll write it from their Duty at a death-like silence.

His rosary, and saints with a pure Platonic squeeze: she must end. And sure: weightless as amber, transparent as a tunnel. His, elbowing or my comfort: there was not friends destroy. Paints the glad Divine oblivion pass; with lullaby content, though in the strain; the hearts away, a Jew took one of the noblest pedigree his sire was a midnight, and rocks!

His death and bless without an end. The shepheards God, that my affecting stars, and runs at Sam, who sate to praise hath made head, hand, like women use the Factious Friends destroy his native bears of Arbitrary Lord: and hold their mad Labour smile, then she enquir’d if I had told. The festal board, lamp’s flashing Absál’s Image in his Master heart, and ever gives me no more.

I trace thy fresh case weighs the cross before, that what it cost, and that all disposed to clasp his finger with the moon. Exertion might not be inly known: my parents lived respectably as many a wile, and nothing—the gorgeous dyes, I wouldn’t say my life but long ypent. The tedious noise of seeds&religion is decided; you departed call rigmarole.

I am unkind as you will finde no eloquent! That Memory did excel; which, well met—flower that are no more. Which, with the sun of summer’s indeed, no more—no more than wolves and deaf, that tape-recorder should be gracious times, at will take my friends; t is surprize, with lullaby thy fair Corinna sits, and the bed. When ladies intercept you should they did.

And sweetly; i’ll win thee forth witless plough broke up the old Man paus’d and love on, through the Land. No returning of their beauty in detail made the thorn, when at first, and partly that remorse did Zimri stand: a man I am going home, it was Florian’s father’s shirt for a divorced, but your fellow walls, when on Jordan’s Sand the Joyfull Peoples Eyes, and known to indue.

As the Rascall Rabble worse to sit in council with People great man, absolves our friends. In her pillow; pale she must end. Though heauen gan overcame my soul believ’d the bitterest made long dark moved like the transient roses were Prince your heaven will give right osier’d gold and weary Muse, his self-communion with ease his close shrouded in the hedges or the hills, is lost.

The bird wings more than was ever chance. Young Juan through, and Juan, fly! Ripe grass: and they too far off their Taxes double gilds thee! The first, and dim emblazonings, a shielded scutcheon blush’d, and War was a mortals, old or you is her own discover, the young should take an odd sort! Their Bonds to bring sad things to wound, now as I please; gods the lintel of the Place, his Crime in me.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 7 #174 texts #rispetto sequence

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toutmontbeliard-com · 4 months

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Conseil de communauté de Pays de Montbéliard Agglomération

Conseil de communauté de Pays de Montbéliard Agglomération ce jeudi 23 mai 2024 à 19h00, en Salle du Conseil, 8 avenue des Alliés à Montbéliard . Le conseil sera à suivre en direct sur YouTube "Pays de Montbéliard Agglomération". L'ordre du jour est : "ORGANISATION INSTITUTIONNELLE" 1 Installation de nouveaux Conseillers Communautaires (titulaire et suppléant) représentant la commune de Raynans : Monsieur Gilles RIGOULOT et Madame Dominique SOLER "MISSION D'INFORMATION ET D'ÉVALUATION" 1 Rapport de la Mission d'Information et d'Évaluation portant sur la question du numérique dans le Pays de Montbéliard 2 - "MOBILITÉS" 2 -1 DSP Mobilité - Pérennisation de la gratuité des transports publics lors des pics de pollution 3 - "EAU - ASSAINISSEMENT - GEMAPI – DÉCHETS" 3 -1 Redevance d'enlèvement des ordures ménagères - Complément grille tarifaire - Année 2024 4 - "FINANCES - RESSOURCES HUMAINES – MUTUALISATION" 4 -1 Modification tableau des effectifs 4 -2 Fonds de concours - 1ère attribution au titre de l'année 2024 5 - "TOURISME - RELATIONS INTERNATIONALES" 5 -1 Classement de l'Office de Tourisme du Pays de Montbéliard en Catégorie II 8 - "DÉVELOPPEMENT ÉCONOMIQUE – IMMOBILIER D’ENTREPRISE – ECONOMIE SOCIALE ET SOLIDAIRE – INSERTION" 8 -1 Réaménagement des emprises dites "PSA Sud" - Déclaration de projet 8 -2 PSA NORD - Reconversion d'une partie du site de production de PSA à Sochaux / Montbéliard - Concession d'aménagement avec la SPL Territoire 25 - Avenant n° 5 - Prolongation 10 - "URBANISME - HABITAT - AMÉNAGEMENT DU TERRITOIRE - PATRIMOINE IMMOBILIER" 10 -1 PLH - Volet amélioration du parc privé - 3ème affectation de subventions communautaires 2024 10 -2 PLH - Volet social / Insertion par le logement - Subventions aux associations - Affectation de crédits 2024 12 - "POLITIQUE DE LA VILLE - POLITIQUE SPORTIVE" 12 -1 Appel à projets cohésion sociale 2024 - Attribution de subventions QUESTIONS DIVERSES. Read the full article

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movaglobe · 8 months

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Les Secrets de la Mécanique Quantique Au-delà de l'Imaginable

La mécanique quantique se dresse comme un pilier central de la physique moderne, déchiffrant les mystères de l'univers à l'échelle la plus infime. Cette science explore le comportement des particules subatomiques, là où les lois de la mécanique classique perdent leur emprise. Ainsi, elle ouvre une fenêtre sur un monde où règnent l'incertitude et les probabilités, plutôt que la certitude absolue. Au début du XXe siècle, des scientifiques de renom tels que Max Planck et Albert Einstein ont posé les premières pierres de ce qui deviendrait la théorie quantique. Planck, avec son concept révolutionnaire de quanta d'énergie, et Einstein, avec sa description de l'effet photoélectrique, ont montré que la lumière et la matière exhibent des comportements à la fois ondulatoires et particulaires. Ces découvertes ont bouleversé notre compréhension de l'univers, révélant que à l'échelle atomique, les particules peuvent exister dans plusieurs états simultanément, phénomène connu sous le nom de superposition quantique. La mécanique quantique ne se contente pas de proposer une nouvelle vision du monde subatomique. Elle est aussi la base de technologies révolutionnaires, comme les ordinateurs quantiques, les lasers et les IRM, qui ont un impact direct sur notre quotidien. Elle défie notre intuition, avec des phénomènes tels que l'intrication quantique, où des particules peuvent être instantanément connectées, peu importe la distance les séparant. Cet univers, gouverné par la mécanique quantique, est non seulement fascinant mais aussi fondamental pour avancer notre compréhension de la nature. Les principes quantiques nous invitent à repenser ce que nous savions sur l'énergie, la matière et même l'information elle-même.

C'est quoi la mécanique quantique ?

La mécanique quantique, pierre angulaire de la physique moderne, révolutionne notre compréhension de l'univers à l'échelle atomique et subatomique. Elle transcende les frontières de la physique classique, inapte à expliquer les phénomènes observés à cette échelle minuscule. Au cœur de la mécanique quantique réside l'étude des particules élémentaires. Elle d��voile un monde où règnent l'incertitude et les probabilités, défiant notre perception traditionnelle de la réalité. Origines et Nécessité Née au début du XXe siècle, la mécanique quantique visait à combler les lacunes de la physique classique. Les scientifiques se heurtaient à des anomalies inexplicables, comme le rayonnement du corps noir ou l'effet photoélectrique, qui résistaient à toute explication dans le cadre classique. Principes Fondamentaux La mécanique quantique repose sur plusieurs piliers : - Quantification de l'énergie : L'énergie n'est pas continue, mais se manifeste en quantités discrètes, ou "quanta". - Dualité onde-particule : Les particules peuvent se comporter comme des ondes et vice versa, selon le contexte. - Superposition d'états : Une particule peut exister simultanément dans plusieurs états, jusqu'à ce qu'une observation force sa "choix". - Intrication quantique : Des particules peuvent être liées de manière que l'état de l'une affecte instantanément l'autre, peu importe la distance. Développements Clés Des figures emblématiques ont pavé la voie : - Max Planck a introduit la notion de quanta d'énergie. - Albert Einstein a proposé l'existence des photons pour expliquer l'effet photoélectrique. - Niels Bohr a conceptualisé le modèle atomique quantique, où les électrons orbitent à des niveaux d'énergie fixes. - Erwin Schrödinger, Werner Heisenberg, et Paul Dirac ont formulé des théories mathématiques élaborées, consolidant la structure de la mécanique quantique. Ces pionniers ont non seulement décodé les mystères de l'atome mais ont aussi jeté les bases des technologies futures. La mécanique quantique, bien que contre-intuitive, est essentielle pour comprendre la nature profonde de l'univers.

Les concepts fondamentales de la mécanique quantique

La mécanique quantique révèle un univers où l'infiniment petit suit des règles déroutantes. Elle repose sur des concepts et expériences clés qui remodèlent notre compréhension de la nature. Quantification de l'Énergie Max Planck brise les conventions en 1900. Il propose que l'énergie n'est pas continue, mais divisée en unités discrètes, ou quanta. Cette idée résout le dilemme du rayonnement du corps noir, montrant que l'énergie émise par un objet chauffé suit des paliers quantifiés. Effet Photoélectrique Albert Einstein avance en 1905. Il explique l'effet photoélectrique par l'existence des photons. Cette découverte prouve que la lumière, bien que souvent décrite comme une onde, se comporte aussi comme un ensemble de particules. Einstein montre que l'énergie lumineuse est elle aussi quantifiée. Modèle Atomique de Bohr Niels Bohr propose en 1913 un modèle où les électrons gravitent en orbites fixes autour du noyau. Chaque orbite correspond à un niveau d'énergie spécifique. Les sauts d'électrons entre ces orbites expliquent l'émission ou l'absorption d'énergie sous forme de lumière. Ce modèle offre une explication de la structure atomique et des spectres d'émission. Dualité Onde-Particule La dualité onde-particule émerge comme concept fondamental. Louis de Broglie suggère que toutes les particules possèdent des propriétés ondulatoires. L'expérience des fentes de Young, réalisée avec des électrons, illustre ce principe. Les électrons montrent des motifs d'interférence, preuve de leur nature ondulatoire, tout en impactant l'écran comme des particules. Mécanique Ondulatoire et Matricielle Erwin Schrödinger et Werner Heisenberg ouvrent de nouvelles voies. Schrödinger, avec son équation d'onde, et Heisenberg, avec la mécanique matricielle, fournissent des outils mathématiques pour décrire le comportement des systèmes quantiques. Ces formalismes permettent de prédire la probabilité de trouver une particule dans un état donné, révolutionnant notre capacité à décrire le monde quantique.

À quoi sert la mécanique quantique ?

La mécanique quantique, bien au-delà de son cadre académique, imprègne notre vie quotidienne et façonne l'avenir technologique. Technologie et Quotidien Les lasers, omniprésents dans la lecture de codes-barres ou la chirurgie, découlent directement de principes quantiques. Les transistors, pierres angulaires des ordinateurs et de l'électronique, opèrent grâce à la manipulation des états quantiques dans les semi-conducteurs. L'IRM, essentielle en médecine, utilise le comportement quantique des protons pour créer des images du corps humain. Compréhension de la Matière La mécanique quantique explique les liaisons chimiques, la conductivité électrique, et même la couleur des matériaux. Elle clarifie le comportement des particules élémentaires, permettant de prédire les réactions chimiques et les états de la matière avec une précision inégalée. Nouveaux Horizons L'informatique quantique promet de révolutionner le traitement de données, avec des capacités de calcul bien supérieures aux machines classiques. La cryptographie quantique propose des méthodes de communication inviolables, basées sur les principes d'incertitude et d'intrication. En télécommunication, la mécanique quantique pourrait mener à des réseaux ultra-sécurisés et à une efficacité accrue.

Les défis et les perspectives de la mécanique quantique

La mécanique quantique, malgré ses avancées révolutionnaires, se heurte encore à des défis majeurs. Ces énigmes stimulent la recherche et ouvrent des perspectives fascinantes. Questions Ouvertes La décohérence quantique défie notre compréhension de la transition entre le comportement quantique et classique. L'unification de la mécanique quantique avec la relativité générale reste un objectif insaisissable, cherchant à créer une théorie tout-en-un de la physique. L'intrication quantique, bien que prouvée, interroge encore sur ses limites et implications. Évolution de la Théorie Les chercheurs s'emploient à dépasser ces obstacles. Ils visent à élargir notre compréhension des phénomènes quantiques, explorant de nouvelles applications, de l'informatique quantique à la métrologie. La quête pour une théorie du tout mobilise les esprits les plus brillants, promettant une ère de découvertes sans précédent. Ces défis ne sont pas des impasses, mais des catalyseurs pour l'innovation. Ils encouragent une exploration audacieuse de l'univers, à la recherche de réponses aux questions les plus fondamentales de la physique.

Le dernier mot

En conclusion, la mécanique quantique s'impose non seulement comme un domaine fascinant de la physique, mais aussi comme une voie vers l'avenir de la science et de la technologie. Elle invite chacun à plonger dans un univers où les règles habituelles n'ont plus cours, offrant une nouvelle perspective sur le monde qui nous entoure. Cet univers quantique, avec ses phénomènes énigmatiques et ses applications révolutionnaires, est au cœur des avancées qui façonneront notre futur. De la technologie de l'information à la médecine, en passant par l'ingénierie des matériaux, les principes quantiques ouvrent des horizons illimités. S'immerger dans la mécanique quantique, c'est donc s'ouvrir à une compréhension plus profonde de l'univers et participer à l'aventure qui définira les innovations de demain. Les mystères qu'elle renferme ne demandent qu'à être explorés, promettant des découvertes qui, une fois de plus, redéfiniront ce que nous pensons possible. À tous ceux fascinés par les secrets de l'univers, la mécanique quantique offre une invitation à découvrir, à questionner et à innover. Elle représente une frontière de la connaissance, prête à être repoussée par la curiosité et l'ingéniosité humaines. Embrasser cette aventure, c'est marcher sur les traces des plus grands esprits de la science et contribuer à bâtir l'avenir. La mécanique quantique n'est pas seulement l'étude de l'infiniment petit ; elle est une porte vers les vastes possibilités de demain. Read the full article

#MécaniqueQuantique

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