achtundsechzigbu (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
achtundsechzigbu) wrote2008-07-27 02:37 am
achtundsechzigbu) wrote2008-07-27 02:37 am
Entry tags:
- albino puppy,
- albino puppy ftw,
- always second best,
- being a puppy is fun,
- blood = paint,
- breaking shit,
- chalkoi,
- collared,
- darling lily,
- destroying things,
- dogs can tell,
- fyi: giovanni's insane,
- gimme my tousan,
- gio is a smart man,
- gio loves the violence,
- giovanni likes it,
- greed,
- greed = tousan,
- greed is mine,
- greed is my bb,
- greed plz,
- greed+gio+beedsheets = mess,
- greed+gio=otp? y/n?,
- greedtousan,
- happy really,
- he's so far gone,
- he's so happy,
- heine,
- heine = real dog now,
- heine and lily,
- heine come home,
- heine come to mother,
- heine's gunna get fucked,
- heine's mine to break,
- heine's the dog,
- how cruel,
- i kill people lots,
- i love blood,
- i luv my puppy,
- i'll write him sonnets,
- i'm a dangerous man,
- i'm not greed's girlfriend,
- ilugreedbb,
- kaa-san speaking,
- lily,
- lily makes him reminiscent,
- lol dog,
- lol luvs his brother,
- lol mindfuck,
- lol what,
- lolololol heine,
- look best in red,
- love is not obsession giovanni,
- mine mine mine,
- mother complex doesn't start to describe,
- my bb greed,
- not her favorite,
- note to daddy,
- oh darling~,
- oh god what fun,
- oh hell yes,
- oh here puppy,
- oh my sister,
- oh so fragile,
- okay maybe i am greed's girlfriend,
- piss moan complain whine,
- please avoid,
- please be bloody for me,
- puppy,
- puppy let's play,
- sadist,
- sanity not in tact,
- stray,
- stray dogs,
- thanks,
- that was kinda creepy,
- to be a collared dog,
- violence,
- welcome to my world,
- what was going on in my head?,
- whee that was fucked up,
- who not which,
- wtg guys
Sechsunddreißig.
You. Will. Pay. You know who you are. Consequences, you will pay for them, and I do not just mean your privileges. The trip into that dungeon was much more enjoyable the second time.
Someone very important is here. Someone... yes. She knows the truth. She knows what he is. She knows what being torn apart feels like. Torn apart by a rabid dog who always seems to rebel. Biting the hand that feeds can be a dangerous hobby. Do you want to starve?
I still wish I had seen it. If only what I have no would have been something that existed then. No, these eyes did not see the way he crumbled on top of a pile of corpses and blood. What a beautiful thing. A sight for sore eyes, I'm sure. But I would have loved it.
It is almost worthy of poetry. A sonnet on his misery, carved into his flesh. A poem for those who he has killed, and those he destroyed. It could be a wonderful work of poetry! A shame I'm not much of an artist, I would adore to do a painting. I hardly count scribbling the words "Mine" and "Die" on the side of buildings terribly suiting.Ah, as you may have guessed, as far as I'm concerned, they are permanent unless someone else wishes to clean them up. I have no intention to. I think they are lovely.
I am no longer a sole survivor of this. A barely beating heart and flesh left waiting to be rebuilt. I have someone to share this with again. I had been the only one for so long. I must, must see her.
Lily. Such... a word. It is almost like a foul language to desperate ears. Blood stained, white hands, knowing his sin -- to know what he had done! I bet you are proud, Heine! So terribly proud! No, no! We must play soon. No excuses. And even if you deny it, I will find you. And we will play.
The creatures here are barely satisfactory.
That child was barely satisfactory. And it is against my recommendation to do that again. Lest I be forced to actually want to kill you. How fortunate I find mortal bodies to be little entertainment.
A good few days indeed.
Greed, do tell me you have no plans tonight. Or I will force you to cancel them.
Someone very important is here. Someone... yes. She knows the truth. She knows what he is. She knows what being torn apart feels like. Torn apart by a rabid dog who always seems to rebel. Biting the hand that feeds can be a dangerous hobby. Do you want to starve?
I still wish I had seen it. If only what I have no would have been something that existed then. No, these eyes did not see the way he crumbled on top of a pile of corpses and blood. What a beautiful thing. A sight for sore eyes, I'm sure. But I would have loved it.
It is almost worthy of poetry. A sonnet on his misery, carved into his flesh. A poem for those who he has killed, and those he destroyed. It could be a wonderful work of poetry! A shame I'm not much of an artist, I would adore to do a painting. I hardly count scribbling the words "Mine" and "Die" on the side of buildings terribly suiting.
I am no longer a sole survivor of this. A barely beating heart and flesh left waiting to be rebuilt. I have someone to share this with again. I had been the only one for so long. I must, must see her.
Lily. Such... a word. It is almost like a foul language to desperate ears. Blood stained, white hands, knowing his sin -- to know what he had done! I bet you are proud, Heine! So terribly proud! No, no! We must play soon. No excuses. And even if you deny it, I will find you. And we will play.
The creatures here are barely satisfactory.
That child was barely satisfactory. And it is against my recommendation to do that again. Lest I be forced to actually want to kill you. How fortunate I find mortal bodies to be little entertainment.
A good few days indeed.
Greed, do tell me you have no plans tonight. Or I will force you to cancel them.
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I'd rather I were the last and only, considering it all.
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Was it so terrible for you, Ernest? That you could not bear it, and had to be free? Truly, though, even as a free dog, you still bear a collar that says you have a master.
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If I could be rid of this collar, I would.
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Why? To rid yourself of a gift you're given.
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