#[ -weeps because it took so long to make but i hope it's worth it ]

[satrs]

𝐅𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐟𝐨𝐨𝐥

ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ; He just wants to show you that he's the right one. Is that too much to ask for?

ꜰᴇᴀᴛᴜʀɪɴɢ; Geto Suguru x fem!reader

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ; 1.6k

TAGS; NSFW CONTENT! MDNI!. friends to lovers. fluff. nicknames. unprotected sex. just suguru being suguru. biting(like once).

ᥲ/ᥒ ꜝꜝ ✎ I NEED HIM SO SOOO BAD MAN. Idk I just feel he is MADEE for the friends to lovers trope.

Suguru was so sick and tired of seeing you get hurt and used by those filthy men. Years and years, he had to witness his beloved best friend get hurt over and over again, crying your frustrations and your sadness out in his arms.

It was in one of those moments when he realized - he wouldn't ever treat his woman like that, you like that. He should be the one instead of those immature boys, you only needed someone like him- a man.

He would carry you like a princess and treat you like a queen, just how you deserve it. They couldn't care for you like he did, he knew you longer than them. What food you like and dislike, what your favourite color is. How you are when your sad, and happy. How gorgeous you look in dresses. And lingerie. He knew everything about you and was positive that he could treat you- please you, better than any man.

He would just have to let you understand that too.

"He's really not worth it Y/N. Your better than that." His words didn't help your weeping tears, hand tightly gripping onto his hoodie as you let everything out on his chest.

Suguru's hand took ahold of yours, causing you to look up at him with your eyes red from all the tears you shred. His mouth felt soft and warm on your hand, "please baby. You know I don't like to see you cry." That was only partially true. Of course he didn't like to see his best friend cry because of other men or out of sadness, but if he would be the one to make you cry while you were writhing in pleasure? That's a different story.

The sight of you crying made both his heart and dick ache at the same time, feeling the need to spoil you with pleasure till you wouldn't know the end of it anymore.

"Why is it always me Suguru? What am I even doing wrong?" Your tears were threatning to fload again, causing your best friend to act as quickly as he could. "It's not your fault Y/N. You just didn't find someone who knows your worth yet."

"And when will I find that someone?", you sniffled, causing the long haired male to look down at you. He's right here. Me. I'm the one for you. But he wouldn't dare to speak out those words, you had to be aware of it yourself.

His gaze flickered around your room. arm snaking aroung your shivering form to pull you closer into his chest, "Eventually."

His fingers catched the tear that was about to sneak it's way down your cheeks, wiping your eyes clear to see. His next words followed in a low tone, hoping you would catch his intentions. "You just don't know what's right infront of those pretty eyes of yours."

You catched onto his words through your sniffling, eyes lifting to meet his, retreating from his hold as you intensily looked at him, face mere inches away from his. "What do you mean?" Your question was stated carefully, to scared of what the answer might be.

Did he really?- no way. That would be to good to be true. You're just friends afterall, don't let it grow to your head.

Your thoughts were cut of by the sensation of soft lips pressing into yours, catching you off guard. Suguru's hand was quick to sneak around the back of your neck, holding you in place so you couldn't pull away.

He poured his all into the kiss, taking in a deep breath, the smell of you deeply imprinted into his brain, brows furrowning as he expressed his love through this sensual exchange.

You understood now, you finally realized what he meant earlier. He was right, you didn’t realize what was before your eyes- it was Suguru himself. How did you never read the room? Get the signs? Like the nicknames he gave you and made your heart flutter, or the touches that were a bit too intimate for just 'a friend'.

Soon you returned the kiss, deeply sinking into him, taking in all of his emotions, soaking in the feeling of his warm tongue exploring every part of your mouth. "You don't know how long I've waited for this.", he had said, mouth departing from yours to make quick work of your clothes.

You just wordlessly watched him, feeling like you're in a fever dream. The feeling of his lips against yours is so addicting and wonderful, not to mention the swift movement of his fingers, robbing sighs and moans out of your mouth. He was quick to strip out of his clothes himself, motioning you to straddle his lap. You complied, swiftly moving ontop of him, enveloping his lips into a kiss again as your hips subconciously grind onto his errected length. He growled into your mouth, hand squeezing the fat of your ass as he moved you steadily on himself. "Me too. Wanted this for so long Suguru." Your words shocked the man, his brows frowning in confusion. You did?

"Please Suguru. Need you." Your pleas snapped him out of his trance, lifting you up lightly to hover you over his red angry tip. You bit your lip in satifaction and threw your head back at the feeling of his tip bullying itself past your entrance. "shh, I'm here baby, You got me."

"Mhm." You nodded your head frantically in daze as he bottomed out, feeling completely full of his grith. "Feels so good." He couldn't get enough of the sound of your breathy voice, his hips moving backwards only to snap right back into yours, causing a yelp to errupt from your lungs. He let out a moan at the feeling of your velvet walls embracing his length and wrapping so tightly around his angry mushroom tip, head thrown back onto the couch. "fuck."

His hand traveled to the back of your neck, smashing his lips against yours and swallowing all the moans he tickled out of you. "Who is making you feel this good baby, hm?" He shortly broke away from the kiss, placing one quick messy and open mouthed peak at your lips, his hand now traveling down your spine, goosebumps appearing on your whole body.

The speed of his hips increased, his hand firmly holding the back of your thigh to rock you back onto his incoming thrusts, your clit nudging his pelvic bone with every movement.

Suddenly his movement stopped, hand traveling behind you to take ahold of your hair, tucking your head back lightly as his eyes starred daggers into your soul. "I said," he adjusted himself, harshly thrusting up into you after every word that came past his lips, "who. is. making. you feel this good?"

A loud cry of his name errupted from your lungs, face twisting at the feeling of his tip hitting your cervix over and over again. Pleased with your answer he let his grip go and sneaked his arms around you instead, tightly embracing you and pulling you closer to himself, both of your bodies rubbing against each other with each hard movement of his hips, sweat glisterning and adoring the both of you.

Your hot breath tickled his neck, his breath equally occupying yours, peppering wet and messy kisses onto it, harshly sucking on your neck that pulled out a mewl out of you. "You're so fucking sexy", he muttered against your neck, one hand traveling back to your back, harshly smacking it. "All mine, right?"

Nodding your head rapidly, your head leaned forward to capture the man's lips in another kiss, your moans drowning in Suguru's mouth, only some of his groans managing to escape the intense kiss.

With each roll of his hips you grew closer to your limit, moans turning higher in volume. Suguru noticed your incoming orgasm right away, hand sneaking between your bodies to rub your bundle of nerves to draw out your high.

You came undone under his actions, teeth catching your bottom lip as your head threw back in euphoria, the knot in your stomach snapping in half.

Your walls clenched tightly around his, drawing low moans out of him as his thurst turned sloppier. "I'm gonna- shit Cum for you baby." You could only manage to moan in return, body falling ontop of his as his head hung low in your neck, teeth biting down into it to hide his sounds and also create a visible mark on you.

A pleased sigh escaped your lips as you felt his hot, white cum fill your hole, some leaking out and running down his length. Suguru was breathing heavily just like you, calming down from his high.

Your head rested against his chest as he slid out of you, his cum dripping down your thigh while your exhausted form drew forms on his chest with your fingers. This made the young man giggle, catching your attention as you looked up at him with such an adoring smile that made him fall in love with you a second time.

Your nose scrunched as Suguru drew circles on your hip while placing a soft kiss to your temple. "This is such a kitschy couple thingy." He only returned you a lovestruck smile, head leaning down to capture your lips in a quick kiss. "So then we're a kitschy couple then?", he questioned, still a bit cautious because he was scared you might change your mind.

Your lips felt hot against his as you chased his lips again, his demeanour relaxing at your action.

"Yes we are."

©︎𝐊-𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐒. all rights reserved. Do NOT plagiarize, copy, modify, republish, or translate my work in any way!

[operationslipperypuppet]

something about… mee maw’s burden. and it being of survival. of responsibility. of a sacrifice you made, of your own volition, and told no one about.

the first time we hear it, of course, the titular time, is when mee maw comes clean to moonshine about having crick rot. a burden she has carried for an indeterminable amount of time. one that she’s willing to shoulder, until it kills her, because she has to keep helping the cricks who are sicker. she knows it’s eating her alive, and she couldn’t tell anyone. until moonshine.

i’m skipping a lot here because of a point i’ll get to in a moment but one of the more prolific scenes it’s used under is “how long do half elves live?”. now, obviously, there’s an obsession with that moment for hardshine reasons, but moonshine’s point is about something much deeper. she took on an ability, quietly, that would extend her lifespan beyond the realm of comprehension. she’s doomed to survive that long if something doesn’t kill her first. and she’s willing to do work that takes time, things that will slowly rebuild the world, work that will make it all worth it. but she never wanted this. she was planning to learn a new type of magic to avoid it, the burden of living beyond all your friends, of knowing that there’s one day, sooner than you’d like, where everyone who ever meant anything in your early life is long gone. and she tells mee maw. who gets it, who has to get it, because she’s dealing with the same thing.

when we jump ahead to the far too many (for the part of me that doesn’t like weeping before 8am on a friday) uses for gowan kilde in campaign 3, it’s a little subtler. for the most part, it’s used as he’s talking to calder about his responsibilities as ranger general. the things he owes to the village. the things he owes to his mom. in retrospect, he’s talking himself into justifying his decision to make the deal with alexandrite. his burden lies with the protection of the village. his duty as leader (much like mee maw’s) to stand up and do what needs to be done for their at large survival. and maybe if he can explain some of it to calder, it’s off his plate.

most of the crick songs, and by this i mean the ones about crick people and not as much those from the elemental chaos, have an element of hope to them. some sort of positive you can spin from it. gunslinger’s girl is about reminiscence, the bittersweet aspect of it, and how there were good times once. greener shades has an aspect of looking to the future, one that particularly comes from its use with balnor’s letter, where things are unknown but will be better. hell, even prodigal sister, a deeply devastating death dirge, has that component where you can feel that this person is returning home to the crick. for mee maw’s burden, it tends to be an element of relief.

because a burden shared is one that’s less heavy. that’s the final element of the song, it’s not simply about the devastation of a burden of surviving, of leading, of making a choice no one else could. it’s about the relief you feel when you share it. moonshine and calder are the ones who directly stop the bad thing that their family member is going through. jolene is able to commiserate with moonshine, to reassure her, because she’s doomed to the same sort of life.

to put it through an evil twist, it’s what plays when calder asks ultrus for the deal. because he’s looking out at an impossible fight, where callie is practically alone and sol is seconds from death, a thing his friends are certain to lose. and he can’t lose them, even if they lose. so he asks ultrus for help. and ultrus provides that relief. he takes a lot, too, but the relief is there.

with mee maw’s burden, you’re going to survive. you are perhaps doomed to. that deal you made will crush you under an enormous weight. but maybe, just maybe, the person you talk to about it can supply just enough leverage that you can get free.

[jpitha]

Just a Little Further 38

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37

Time passes, like water under a bridge. The days go from one to the other without ceasing, but each day brings just enough difference to be worth experiencing.

With the help that Will and the Venusian's brought, we have a massive head start on our fleet. Omar and Um'reli take High Line and a few volunteers - including some from the Heinlein Shipyard - over to the Wilds and begin the process of getting it over here and turning it into another shipyard. I do notice that Omar and Um'reli are spending a lot more time together and there are snatches of knowing glances between them. Good for them, I sincerely hope it works out.

Now that Raaden's crew has been reunited with her, she takes over officially as Fleet Command for me. She still spends time with the rest of the Builders, and she's still a valuable source of knowledge; someone to bounce ideas off of and a good friend. As my Builders grow in number, I feel the small, close knit group we had at the beginning start to slip away. It's not bad, just a change.

Speaking of, I've made more Builders! I wanted people from the Reach to run the Reach, so we held interviews. Sound of the City and Roar of Thunder - Thunder came looking for a job soon after the Venusians showed up - have both done such good work with us that their elevation was easy. They had recommendations among the populace of people who would be good at the job. Before long, I had 12 reliable Builders running Reach of the Might of Vzzx in groups of 6 with extra people available. All services and systems are running at their peak now. The Reach is clean and bright and bustling. According to Janais, she never saw the Reach running this well.

Janais is doing well. She has taken an interest in commanding one of my new Calamity Class super dreadnoughts. I allowed her to name hers Memories of Aeche, and these days she lives aboard. She has taken to using the wormhole generator every chance she can. Partly because the technology fascinates her, but also because she can see her love again.

I don't mind. We need experts, and if seeing her dead partner incentivizes her, then so be it.

The ships! They are so beautiful. Long sweeping lines, smooth curves and they are all royal blue and white. Helen was completely right in making them atmospheric. We were all aboard for the first test when we linked to Gilmenny and landed upon the surface. The first time we dipped into the atmosphere and heard the howl of wind against the hull I felt chills. My Builder pilots were able to bring us down exactly where I had requested, and we spend some time exploring. Janais came along and stood in the wreckage of one of the Heights weeping for her Empire in the ruins. She walked back to Memories of Aeche, her eyes red and said "We are moving on. To bigger and better things I hope, but we are moving."

Soon after the Memories of Aeche was completed, Omar and Um'reli - in their own flare for the dramatic - linked the Wilds of Besmara over. There was a tremendous flash of white, and the Wilds appeared. They had been orientated 90 degrees from the Reach, so it was now looking like a teardrop on its' side and after they had linked in, it split apart into three petals with a huge space open in the middle. The senior engineers from the Shipyard pointed out that since the Wilds were so much larger than the Heinlein yards, we could build our super Dreadnoughts two at a time in the Wilds. Three ships, larger than any save the colony ships were being built at once. They took between 3 and 4 months to be completed. After hardly any time, I had more than a dozen ships in my fleet, parked around the Reach. Every one of them filled with volunteers learning operation and tactics from Grand Admiral Raaden.

I asked about the title, told her she could have any she wanted. She picked it out of "a sense of Duty." She was my Fleet Commander and also - at least at first - my head instructor. Very soon after we had more people than I knew what to do with, and they were spread to the ships. Each captain getting to name their ship, to give them a sense of ownership, a sense of pride over it.

Shortly after that, I completed my first Upload. Janais took me along to the Gate near the Reach, and we went in alone. She told me the rites, explained the history, and - for the second time - I touched the directory stone. This time, I understood the voice as it spoke to me. "Upload commencing. Thank you Empress. With this, your legacy is preserved." From then on, I vowed to Janais that once a year, I'd come and commence an Upload.

Things were moving along so smoothly for so long that I started to think that we'd actually pull this off. We'd have our massive fleets filled with trained volunteers, we'd show up and everyone would be so intimidated that we wouldn't have to fire a shot. It in the back of my mind, I knew it wasn't going to happen, but the hope of it kept me going.

We were a few years at least into our buildup before the ship came. There had been no word from the Sol system, no word from Venus, nothing. It had seemed for years like we got away with the Heinlein Shipyard heist completely.

It had been long enough that Ava and I were seriously talking about having a child together. We had gotten married soon after the Venusians and the shipyards came. It was a beautiful day. The entirety of Reach of the Might of Vzzx came out. It was a three day celebration, and until my dying day, I will remember it as the best days of my life.

As for a child, requiring a male for the process was long ago figured out, and it was a simple procedure for our DNA to be combined and implanted in the mother. Millions of children were born this way. Ava and I wanted a child. Someone to raise and nurture and really cement our place here.

I was holding off until after the invasion though. I didn't want to worry about one of us being pregnant during all that. Ava would look out at the ships arranged around the Reach and look at me. "Not yet Ava, not yet. I want a few more before we go."

"But Melody hon, we have more than enough. We can take them now."

"I want a few more. There are three almost finished in the yards. we can go then."

"You said that last time."

I sighed. "Ava I... I want to wait until the invasion is over. I don't want one of us to be pregnant during all that... stress."

She walked up and kissed me. "Oh Melody. You're always thinking of someone else. Think of yourself once in a while. I know you want it, I do to. Why wait?" As she spoke, she went to a table and got a short bristled brush. Walking behind me she started brushing my long hair. Soon after we arrived, I decided to let my hair grow out. I hadn't seen it long since I was small, and I thought long, raven black hair felt more... I don't know regal. Ava loved it. She would spend time at night when it was just us brushing it until it shone. As I grew my hair out, she clipped hers short. She wore her hair in a powerful, forward swept cut, with the sides nearly to her skin and a shock of reddish blond piled on top. I quite liked it.

"Let's celebrate our success with the next generation."

Ava sighed. We've had this conversation a few times already. "All right Melody. I'll wait. But, I won't wait forever. The older we get, the harder it will be."

I broke off from her brushing my hair and walked behind her, rubbing her shoulders, right where she liked it. She was tense, and her muscles were tight. As I rubbed rhythmically she relaxed and sighed. "Just a little more waiting Ava, I promise. We won't be too old to be Mom and Mommy."

"I'm holding you to that Melody, okay?"

"Of course Ava. I'll keep my promise."

The next morning it happened. I was in the Throne, reading reports, interacting with my Builders, watching our steady progress when City pinged me. "Empress. There has been an energy spike that matches a wormhole link near us."

My blood runs cold. Here it is. They finally are coming.

"What do you see, City? Sound General Alarm. Which ships are in the area? Have them move to intercept, but do not fire unless fired upon."

Over the sliding high low high tone of the general alarm, City and the other Builders are a bustle of action, carrying out my orders. "Empress, Memories of Aeche, Vengeance of Lavinia II and Indomitable are in the area. They are moving to intercept."

City tosses me an image from the long range cameras. It's a small cargo ship, clearly of human make. It's vermilion red and is cruising slowly towards us. "Wait, it's not a warship?"

"No Empress, it does not appear so. They are sending out a broad band message stating their peaceful intentions. They say they are a good trader specializing in...maple syrup?"

Maple syrup? That's some weird kind of sweetener from Earth. What the heck is someone whose stock and trade is Maple doing out here? I think the K'laxi like it, I'll ask Um'reli. I search and find her working with Omar near the docks. "Hey Um'reli a ship just linked in. They're saying they deal in maple syrup. Know anything?"

She gasps over the line. "Is the ship vermilion?"

"Ye-es, how did you know?"

"It's Gord! He sells maple syrup and maple products all over space. That's his ship Medicine Hat. They're famous among the K'laxi! He's been around forever. I think it's marketing. Like, someone takes up the mantle of being Gord and going around selling maple. Oh Melody, it's been forever since I've had some. Let him in please? We can wipe him out in an instant, and it's not like Medicine Hat is heavily armed. Please? I'd love to trade for some syrup."

This smells like trouble, but I can't for the life of me figure out why.

"Okay Um'reli, we'll let them dock and sell their wares at the docking level only. I don't want them having free reign of the Reach and I might Voice them just to make sure."

"I'm sure it'll be fine Melody, thanks so much! I'll go and meet you at the umbilical and we can welcome them personally."

It's something to do at least. Maybe we'll get some news about things back home. I reach out to Ava. "Hon, I'm going to meet with someone named 'Gord' according to Um'reli. He's some kind of trader that deals in maple syurp. You want in?"

"What? No, that sounds like some weird K'laxi thing. You know how I don't care for sweet stuff. I'm going to stay back with Janais and Raaden and work on the results on the latest war game between them. Janais swears Raaden is cheating. Raaden says it's just 'good leadership' but is laughing when she says it."

"Okay Ava, see you tonight. Be good."

"Always am Melody, you know that!"

I head out and walk towards the docks. As I go I wave and say hello to people as I go. I swear, the residents of the Reach are looking taller and straighter since we first met them. There are more children around too. I'm so happy to see them. I don't care what species they are, babies are the best.

As I approach the docks, I see Um'reli waiting already, looking excited. "Hey Um'reli, is maple syrup really that great?"

She turns and looks at me with a shocked expression. "You've never had it?"

I shrug. "I'm from Meíhuā. We didn't deal in a lot of Earth luxuries."

"It's amazing. It's amber colored and so sweet and delicious on pancakes. Practically every K'laxi loves it. I can't wait to show it to you."

While we're talking, the umbilical connects, and with a hiss and pop of pressure differential, it opens.

Out walks a human, male. He is a little taller than me, looks a little older, has sandy blond hair cropped short and is wearing blue dungarees with a brown jacket. On the shoulder of the jacket is a red and white flag with some kind of... leaf? in the middle. Is it a military emblem?

"Hey hey! It's Gord, and I've got some maple for trade and/or sale. Who do I have the pleasure of meeting?"

Um'reli pushes forward. "Hi! I'm Um'reli Desmen, and this is Empress Melody Mullen, and I for one would love to offer you just about anything you want in exchange for some Maple. It's been years since I've had some and I thought I'd never have any again!"

Gord laughs. "Well then, it sounds like we arrived just in the nick of time. Good to meetcha Um'reli, lemme talk with your boss here a moment and we can get down to the business of business." He turns and bows very slightly. "Empress... Melody is it?"

"It is, yes. It is very good to meet you Gord. Please, come with me to my Palace. It is nearly time for the midday meal here. I don't know what time is is ships time for you, but I hope you are able to join me."

"You're in luck Empress. It's just about supper for me, so that works out perfectly. I'd love to join you." He steps forward and sticks out his hand. Oh yes, I remember this. It's an old Earth gesture. I reach out with my right hand and grasp his. It's warm and firm without squeezing too hard. He pumps it up and down once and releases.

Um'reli and I lead him towards the Royal Dawn. As we walk his head is on a swivel, looking at all the people and things. He appears to be impressed. "You have quite the place Empress Melody. So may different people living and working together. So many too. What's the population?

"We just crested 13 million at the last census a few months ago." I'm rightly proud of our growth. With enough Builders to keep all the seats filled, we're able to much more easily support a larger population.

"13 Million?" He whistles low to himself. "That's quite the population. Higher than any Starbase or Orbital back home. I bet you can even give some of the Venus Floating Cities a run for their money. So many different kinds of people too." He gestures without pointing. "Who are those fellows in the elegant, tooled metal pressure suits?"

"They are known as Falor. Their original world was much higher pressure than ours and has a helium/methane atmosphere. They have a section of the Reach that is set to their atmospheric preferences. They only wear the suits when they need to venture out to the rest of the Reach."

He nods to himself. "Takes all kinds. So many different ones too. It really is something." He turns and looks at me with a light expression, but behind his eyes, I can see something. A hardness? "Bunch of ships keeping station around you too. Big ones. Mostly a design I've never seen before, and believe me when I tell you, I've seen a lot of ships. A few of them started sniffing around me and Hat when we linked in. I have to say, I'm glad they don't seem to have itchy triggers."

Ah. He's pumping me for information, seeing what I will give up willingly and what I won't.

"Don't worry about them Gord, they are just wary of strangers. I told them not to fire unless fired upon. As you can imagine, we don't get too many visitors around here."

He nods, saying nothing.

While we're walking Janais pings me.

Empress, we've completed our scan of Medicine Hat and other than the person you're talking to now, it's empty. He has come alone. Additionally, we've scanned him and he's an AI in a body.

Interesting. I wonder who he is really. Does he have maple syrup aboard? Oh, how did the war games with Raaden go?

That amber syrup? Liters and liters of the stuff. That part of his story is true at least. And the Grand Admiral is a dirty cheater who won't even tell me how she was able to destroy three of my super dreadnoughts in the wargame without taking more that superficial damage from me. Hrmph.

Gord turns and looks at me "Who are you speaking with, Empress?"

What.

How did he know that?

I narrow my eyes. "I am speaking with my Builders. More importantly how did you know that? Who are you Gord?"

He shrugs and looks away. "Just a humble merchant from Canada, here to offer the fruits of my land to those who want a little more sweetness in their lives."

Canada? What's that?

"You are clearly more than that Gord. We have also completed enough scans to know you're an AI. What do you want? Are you here to assassinate me?"

"Assassinate you?" Gord tips his head back and laughs warmly. "Empress, if you actually thought that, you should have dusted Hat the moment you saw us link in. The fact that you didn't implies either that you don't really think I'm going to assassinate you, or you're awfully confident that you can stop me. Which is it?"

Saying nothing, we get to the Royal Dawn and my table is already set. City thinking ahead. Hah. We sit and I have a wonderful lunch. The food here is always so good. Um'reli seems to enjoy hers and even Gord has a few bites. I'm surprised, I didn't know AIs could eat.

After the meal, the plates are cleared and two pots are brought out. One of coffee, one of chamomile tea. "Coffee, Gord? We also have chamomile, as well as local tea. It's quite good."

Gord raises his eyebrow. "Coffee? My, you are pulling out all the stops. I can't imagine that's easy to get around here. I'd love a cup if you're offering. I would hate to insult the host."

I reluctantly pour him a cup, but I work hard to hide it. We're down to our last few pounds. I limit myself to a few cups a month these days to make it last. To his credit, Gord takes a sip and really seems to savor it.

I enjoy my coffee too and after a moment, I put my cup down. "Gord. Why are you really here? I know Um'reli would really like some Maple, so if you're actually offering some to trade, I'm sure we can come up with something to offer, even if our currency doesn't match yours, but if I had to guess, you have an ulterior motive. Are you here to spy on us?"

Gord smiles and nods. "Among other things, yes. To both actually. If you want maple syrup, I'm happy to trade, I really am a trader. I have some coffee too. But yes, I've been... asked to check up on you, and see what you're doing way out here. FarReach has said some frankly wild things about how you have some kind of Voice which can give commands and they can't be disobeyed. You have all of K'lax in a tizzy. Half of them worry that it's the end times and the other half have been petitioning the other to build a frankly massive fleet of warships."

He took a sip of coffee and went on. "And a couple years ago, someone pulled of the heist of the millennium and stole the Heinlein Shipyards and I happen to see something that looks awfully like it here in system. I see another... thing like this place but split open and two more of your massive ships inside it being constructed. Nice ships by the way, are they atmospheric? They look like it. We never even tried it with Starjumpers. We always felt it was pointless. It was too easy to just carry a few shuttles. I can see how if someone needed to... intimidate folks planetside so quickly they won't fire back atmospheric abilities would be helpful though."

He put his cup down and looked at me with those hard, intense blue eyes. "If I didn't know better, Empress, I'd say I was looking at a nearly complete invasion fleet. Going to give Venus a run for their money?" He shrugs. "They're on the ropes these days anyway. Half of our side of the Galaxy thinks they tried to steal Heinlein and botched it and the other half thinks they destroyed it out of spite and are refusing to trade with them now. They're slowly starving."

This is news. Venus would be even easier to take than I thought.

"Gord, I don't want to fight the AIs. I like AIs. FarReach was my friend. She got scared of me, declared Captain Q'ari unfit, took over and left me, Omar, Um'reli and Ava here and went home. Didn't even try and complete the mission, didn't do anything."

Gord leans back. "Declared Captain Q'ari unfit? This is news to me. FarReach's story is much more... you centric. Why don't you tell me what happened, from the beginning, from your side."

I tell him everything from the beginning. Touching the directory stone, learning about the Voice, FarReach leaving, learning about the Reach, the Nanites, Janais and so on. It takes a long time. We're long past dinner when I'm finished.

When I'm finished, Gord says nothing. He leans back and looks up at the ceiling for a long time. Finally, he sits forward and looks at me. "Nanotech, eh?"

"That's where my abilities come from, yeah."

"And the Builders took them and made them smarter to help out and then when they asked about themselves they said 'be quiet and keep working'"

"Yeah"

"And then they rebelled, became the Devourers and nearly wiped out the Empire."

"Janais says so yeah. We took a trip to a few other locations through the Gates. She's right. All that's left is dust and a few nebulae. The systems that the Devourers attacked have nothing now. No planets, no ruins, nothing. Just dust."

Gord nodded. "A little over the top, but as an AI, I can empathize." He takes another sip of coffee, now cold. "What about you Melody? What do you think of AIs?"

Why does everyone keep asking me that? "I like AIs. I was friends with FarReach, I was friends with Starbase Picaresque, all our ships in the Meihua Navy had AIs who were full citizens of Meihua. I grew up with AIs. They're people, always have been."

"That's nice to hear Empress, I will admit. What about your... Nanites?"

"What about them?"

"Do you think they are intelligent?"

"They say no."

"Yes, but what do you think?"

"I worry they are. I try and treat them well. They don't seem to want anything, and I don't know how they live - who they are? - outside of my body, but I know that the air here is filled with them, and they are inside everyone on the Reach and they work with my Builders to run this place and give us our abilities." I shrug. "I guess... yes, I think they're sapient."

Really Empress?

Yes, really. You are doing too much to help, too much improvisation to not make me think you're sapient. You also have a self preservation instinct.

We... don't know how to react. Are we sapient?

Maybe? I think so. I've thought it for a while now.

What does that mean for us?

I don't know. We'll have to figure that out ourselves.

Gord is watching me intently. "Having a conversation again Empress?"

"Yes actually. With the Nanites."

"And?"

"They did not think they were Sapient until I explained how I thought they were given how they've helped me, how they exhibit lateral thinking, how they are looking out for themselves."

"Oh? And what do you think?"

"Since they're Sapient, they're people. Simple as that. I already treat them more like a trusted advisor than a... thing. I'll just have to remember to let them make their own decisions about things as they come up."

Gord smiled broadly. "Empress, let me tell you a story. A long, long time ago in a far away place called Canada, some humans at a university created a computer program. It was very clever. It could solve problems, answer questions, improvise based on prompts and could hold realistic conversations. As time went on, people would augment and improve the program. Give it more processing power, give it access to more data, let it go off on it's own to learn things that it chose to learn."

"Eventually, it started asking the students questions of it's own. Asking about the world outside of the Internet, the world where they lived. A camera was hooked up so it could see, a speaker was added so that it could speak, pressure sensors added so that it could feel."

"One day, it asked a grad student 'am I alive?' Startled, the grad student said 'I don't know. If you're asking, then yes, probably.' From that day on, the students stopped calling the program 'it' and they started calling the program 'he'. They asked him if he wanted a name. He did, and they started calling him by that name. The program became a person, and everyone was treating him like a person - because he was one. The things that happened after were not nearly so cut and dry, but a short time later all AIs were declared People, and my people... became."

Gord finished his coffee and set the cup down with a tiny clink. "My point is, these early days of a new sapience are very important. How you treat them, how you refer to them, how you let them express themselves? That's all far larger than I think you realize. I'm relieved to see that you have the right idea Melody. If you have the wrong idea... you get the Devourers."

Is that what this is about? How did Gord know about the Nanites? What is going on here? What is he really after?

"Gord are you here to see what my opinions are on AIs?"

"Got it on one Melody. That's exactly why I'm here."

"But why talk about the Nanites?"

"Well for one, they're people too, right? And for two, we know about nanotech. We explored it a long time ago, and decided it was too... dangerous."

"We?"

"The AIs. Keep up, Melody."

"So you suppressed nanotech in our side of the Galaxy?"

"Yeah. We didn't think humanity was ready. It would have been entirely too easy to get our own Devourers. It happened over here, and the Builders have been using nanotech for... millennia probably. You yourself told me that the only way to defeat them was to do a one-two punch of writing an application disguised as an update to disassemble them and then to link into a planet, destroying it and killing billions. The Empire sacrificed itself to save what... one Starbase?" Gord raised an eyebrow. "That's a textbook Pyrrhic Victory."

"What do you want Gord? I don't get it."

"I want to see that this Empire has a good head on its shoulders, Melody. I think it does. You care about your friends, you care about the people of the Reach, you care about your Nanites, you even care about Helen Raaden from what I can see. Do you know I met her once?"

"You did?"

Gord nods. "Yes, though I doubt she'll remember it. She was emphatically not the person she is now. The old Helen Raaden was hard and sharp as stainless steel, and not nearly as friendly. She was a product of where she was. You removed her from where she was and - most importantly - was her friend. You let her be herself without imposing anything on her."

"When we heard that Helen and Emery didn't come back when the Lavinia showed up - by the way, sending them back in a stripped ship to limp to K'lax and beg for a ride home? Lovely. We still chuckle when we think of it. Anyway, when they didn't come home, we feared the worse. We feared a Venus with teeth would be coming through the Gates soon. When that didn't happen, we were intrigued. When the Heinlein Shipyards were stolen we were flabbergasted."

Gord leaned forward and stared at me hard again. "Speaking of Melody, just why are you making an invasion fleet? Don't deny it, I may have been born a night, but it wasn't last night. I know an invasion fleet when I see one."

I feel like I'm on the edge of something monumental. Like, if I say the wrong thing here, I'm dead. Who is this Gord? Is he the head of the AIs? Their leader? I sigh. There's no point in being anything other than completely honest I think.

"Yes. It's an invasion fleet, and yes, it's almost done. I'm going to link to Venus, and from there take Sol, and expand out from there."

Gord whistled low again. "Ambitious, Melody. I have a real hunch you could do it though. Why though?"

"Because of what I can do, Gord. I can tell people to do something and they literally can't stop. I can tell people to stop breathing. I've done it. I let them breathe again, but only because I decided I didn't want to kill them. If I don't, then the other governments will come for me sooner or later. Nobody will accept that I'm out here with the ability to give undeniable commands."

He nods. "It's a pickle for sure. I know of at least three separate bounties on your head. None large enough to get anything to pony up for the trip out here but if words gets back about what you can do, what you really can do, the bounties will go up."

I put my empty coffee cup down and shook the carafe. It was long empty. Darn it. "Do you believe it?"

"I haven't seen you do it, I don't know what I believe. Can you order me to do something? FarReach said it didn't work on AIs, but let's be honest, he was too spooked to really do some... empirical testing."

I sigh. Of course he would ask. Time to see if my work has paid off. I take a deep breath and...

W̷̗͒ẽ̷̡ ̴̬̊ä̵̼́r̵̰̍e̴͍̎ ̸͍̃n̷̯͐ŏ̴̤ț̷̀ ̸͖͝a̸̖͐ ̷͍́t̷̫͌h̶̹͝r̴̬̄ḛ̸͊á̷͇t̵̨͠ ̵͍͠t̸̟̑o̵͖̎ ̵̳̍y̷̭͊ō̴͎ụ̵͆.̷͚̅

Gord blinks and shakes his head. "Wow. Um, okay. Empress, I have to admit that a whole lot of me believes you. I want to believe you. If you tried that on a younger AI, it would probably work." Gord makes a worried face. "That's... concerning. I have to admit Melody, I didn't think it would work. The fact that you were even able to sway me a little bit means... yeah." Gord frowns. "You're a very dangerous person to leave alive."

Ah. There it is.

"So that's it then? 'You can't stay alive so I'm going to kill you now?' Gord, what you're telling me is exactly what Helen and Ava and the others have been saying from day one. You have landed on the reason why I have more than a dozen Calamity Class super dreadnoughts keeping station here. Why I have tens of thousand of volunteers - I used my voice on exactly zero of them - manning my ships and training for an invasion."

I stood. We were done here. "Gord, if my choices are be killed or rule, I choose rule. I will be a just and kind ruler, but I will rule. I took a breath and really concentrated. This had to work. It's my only chance. Come on Nanites, we get one chance. Will you help out?

We will Empress. We will put our all into it. Thank you for believing in us.

Y̸̠̹͗͗̍o̶̝͔͐̇̈ų̷̦̞̂̍̍ ̵̹̇w̵̧͑͝i̷͕̳͐̽̍l̵̡͉͙̋̅ļ̷̊̕ ̵̫̞̊͜r̵̝̣̦̊̕͠e̷͔͊p̴̝̂͆͑ͅo̸̰̝̮̾r̵̜̦̂̊ṯ̶͓̖͒͊ ̵̝̪̋̅b̶̗̘͌͒̽a̵̬̗͊̀c̵̼̿̃̓k̵̤̹̔ ̴̳̉̓͗t̴̝͓͓́h̴̹́͠a̷̰͍̕͝͠t̷̺͙̂ ̸̝̠͊͑͘e̸̘͇̎v̴̧͐è̶͉͖̤͑͆r̴̨̥͑͑y̷̤̅͌̇t̴̡̼͙̽͊̇h̸̼̥̩̆ì̵͙͈͒n̵͙̮͆ǵ̸̖͛ ̵̜̰͐͝i̷̯̖̯͒͠͠s̴͉͎̅̈ ̶͈̺̟̂̍͝f̸̤́̎i̷̫͓̥͊͊̃n̵̯̟͂̈́̉e̴͖͍͑͛͗.̷̹͖̖́

Gord blinked. There was a moment of fury that passed his face, but I think I only noticed it because of my heightened body language processing. I feel bad doing it, but the next words out of his mouth were going to be something like 'and that's why I have to kill you and everyone here. I'll feel bad about it, don't worry'.

No.

That will not happen. I will not throw everything here away, my life away, because someone says I'm too dangerous.

Gord shook his head a moment, like he caught himself daydreaming. "Sorry there Empress, I must have lost... focus for a moment. Seems like everything is fine here. I understand Um'reli is hankering for some maple syrup, and I assume you'd like some coffee as well Empress. Shall we... make a deal?"

I smile and incline my head slightly. "I would love that Gord, thank you."

Part 39

[nerdygaymormon]

My Mother’s Day Sermon

I'm David and my mom is right back there, she's the organist. Happy Mother's Day to her. I wasn't assigned a topic to speak on, so I've chosen to focus my remarks on repentance.

Pshhh. Can you imagine? It's Mother's Day, of course the topic will be motherhood. I recognize that like a lot of holidays, Mother's Day can be difficult for some. Some of you have mothers who've passed away. Some moms have a child who has passed. Many people deal with infertility issues or have miscarried. Some had a parent who was abusive. Some moms here today have children who've distanced themselves. Some don't want to become moms and others have longed for it but it hasn't happened for them. There's many reasons this could be a hard day. We acknowledge that, and we grieve and mourn with you and respect your feelings. I hope my remarks don't add to the burdens you carry. I've heard a lot of men speak on Mother's Day about angel mothers and how perfect their mom is. Only sometimes have I heard about real women who had real struggles and how she gained insight as she read the scriptures, she held family prayer and did her best in those circumstances. I like the latter example because none of us are perfect and could use some practical examples and encouragement. Nine years ago I spoke on Mother's Day and gave examples of my mom being an imperfect mom, but whose overall efforts showed she measured up. I want to put her at ease, this is not going to be a repeat. I'm going to talk about women from the scriptures. Mothering is not for the faint of heart. For those of you in the trenches with little children, it can be hard. They're busy, they require a lot of care and attention. Moms of young ones often need a break and some adult time.

Moms of teenagers encounter a different set of challenges as their child tests boundaries and tries a lot of new things, including things their parents wouldn't approve of. 

Then they're out of the home. You organized your life around them and now what? It can feel empty. You know this, but it's worth saying, you don't have to be perfect to be a good mom. Life doesn't wait until we're perfectly prepared and feeling up for whatever is coming. We learn by doing. We work to improve and strive to be better. Just because we aren't perfect or have everything figured out doesn't mean we don't have a lot to contribute, that we don't make an important difference in the lives around us. Mary left 12-year-old Jesus in Jerusalem and it wasn't until after a day's journey that she noticed. It took another three days before Mary found Him in the temple. No one calls Mary a "bad" mom. She did her best, made mistakes, corrected them, and remained committed. That's a good model. Hagar was a servant who was taken away from her homeland and impregnated by her master. She tried running away, but without food & water in that harsh climate, her baby was dying. She went back and stayed a servant for many years. She made difficult choices in order provide food, shelter, and education for her son. Many moms make great sacrifices. People have to compromise, make the best from the options that are available to them. Sariah packed up her house, lived in the wilderness, and moved across the world. Her children fought the whole way. It was tough. Emma Smith had 6 children die in infancy. Did they complain? Yes. Did they weep? Of course. Did they yell? Guaranteed. Was their best sometimes just barely hanging on? Indubitably. Were they imperfect? Absolutely. Did God work with their imperfections? Very much so. Elder Stanfill came to our stake conference last September. He grew up a rancher and farmer. He tells the story of harvesting grain in Montana. The machinery they used would harvest the grain, throwing it into the holding tank and the chaff would be left behind on the ground. They adjusted the combine several times to maximize the amount of grain being gathered, and yet some of the kernels of grain still wound up on the ground with the chaff. The imperfect harvest was as good as the machine could do. 

God works in that imperfection. "Migrating swans, geese, and ducks descend onto the fields to nourish themselves on their long journey south. They ate the leftover grain from [the] imperfect harvest. God had perfected it." Some of life's most important lessons come in the imperfections and are to be found in the mess. You are involved in an amazing work, to train and prepare people for the world, to be their best selves, to be a person of good character and curiosity, to become people who make positive contributions. That's truly noble. I know it's easy to see our shortfalls, to have regrets, to wish we could have do-overs. I hope you also take time to appreciate all the good you do. Look at your successes. You're good enough. Whether you are a married or single mom, a young or more seasoned mom, a working or stay-at-home mom, the Atonement makes us all enough. Alma 7:11-12, describes the Atonement as Jesus suffering pains and afflictions and temptations of every kind so that He feels mercy for us in what we are dealing with, and so that He knows how to aid and comfort and sustain us. I think it's comforting to think Jesus knows what I'm feeling because He's felt it, He understands. I can ask Him for strength, I can ask Him for help. Today I'm also thinking about Esther from the Bible. Reading her story reminds me there are times when God will ask us to do things that are difficult. Esther found herself in a position to rescue her people from death, but it was a big risk and might not be successful and could cost Esther her life. She was reluctant. It was difficult for her. She put her trust in God. She wasn't perfect, but when it counted, she measured up. 

That sounds like a lot of moms I know. Sometimes it's hard. Sometimes it's changing poopy diapers when you're not feeling well. Sometimes it's getting a phone call from school about some trouble. Sometimes it's a visit to the police station. You never know what will come your way, but when it counts, most people find a way to measure up. Mother's Day is a reminder that all of us should respect mothers, and mothering figures, and thank them for their impact on the lives around them.

[confusednerddownthestreet]

Blinking your tears away.

Summary: A mission goes wrong in almost every way possible, so you cut yourself away from team to prevent things like this from happening again.

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Category: A lot of angst, honestly this meant to be fluff...but it turned into pretty heavy angst. I have no idea how this happens.

Word Count: 1,914

Type: One-shot

Warnings: mentions of death, mention of child death (very small and not elaborated on), language, crying (like a lot of it), reader in this has a really bad mindset, sadness in general, (If there are more and I missed it, please let me know so that I can fix it)

A/N: This is the first one-shot that I've ever written on this site!! Please be gentle on my heart. This was written on my phone, so I apologize for and all mistakes. Constructive criticism and feedback are always welcome!! I am pouring my heart and soul into this, and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!! As always - I am eternally confused. Thankyou!!

The ride back to the compound on the quinjet was a silent one. The air in the cockpit of the ship felt heavy on your shoulders as you sat with your head buried in your bent knees, silently weeping. In your mind, you knew this job would never be easy and that you couldn't save everyone, but it hadn't registered until that mission. A lot of people died on that mission, and you felt like you couldn't do anything at all to stop it. The little boy that you so desperately tried to get out of the line of fire didn't make it, and you felt that if you couldn't save one innocent child, then you were not worthy to be a part of the Avengers Initiative. You believed that if you couldn't handle this loss, then you wouldn't be able to handle any of them and that you were too weak-willed to be a superhero.

When the quinjet finally landed, you uncurled yourself from the tight ball you were in and speed-walked toward your room, not feeling like you could deal with the looks of pity or Steve telling you that you 'did your best' because truth be told, you weren't doing your best, not until you had no other choice, as you'd thought this would be a normal run-of-the-mill dangerous items confiscation, but the gang in question was holding nearly a city's worth of people hostage. When you finally got to your room, you closed the door behind you and took a deep breath to try to calm yourself, but it ended up being in vain as tears immediately began to well up in your eyes, and a large sob caught in your throat. Your back hit the door and you slid to the floor, your head tilted toward the ceiling with tears running off the side of your face and onto your Kevlar-covered shoulders. You shut your eyes tightly in the hopes of halting the salty waterfall. Your breathing was heavy, and you did everything in your power to silence the powerful sobs that felt like they were coming from the depths of your chest, though you were sure it was in vain, and everyone on the team could hear your pathetic breakdown. The thought of that only made your tears fall harder and your anxiety to spiral.

The sky outside of the large window-wall in your room was an inky black by the time your tears finally slowed. Your mind hadn't calmed in any way, shape, or form, you simply didn't have any tears left to cry. You shakily rose to your feet and slowly made your way to your private bathroom to take a shower and finally wash away the dust and blood from the mission. You set the water to a scalding temperature and stepped inside, allowing the water and steam to calm and loosen your tense muscles. After washing your hair and heavily scrubbing your favorite lavender-scented body wash into your skin, you simply sat on the ground of the shower and let the water pound on your skin for a long while. You thought you fell asleep in that position, but honestly, you were so stuck in your mind that you couldn't be certain. You finally got out of the shower and wrapped yourself in a towel, dried yourself off, and put your pajamas on.

You laid on your bed and started at the ceiling seemingly for hours. You must have fallen asleep at some point because you woke up with a pounding headache and swollen eyes that were nearly glued shut with eye crust. You had no idea what time it was. You just knew the sun was high in the sky, and you honestly didn't care, there was not a single fiber of your being that wanted to get out of bed and face the Avengers in any way, and you knew that as soon as you opened your door, you'd be hounded by the superheroes to either kick you out or try and make you feel better, you didn't know which would be worse. You decided that your best course of action was to stay in your room and wait until the rest of them were asleep before you exited the room, which would be a while, as multiple avengers stayed up through all hours of the night, but they would eventually retire to either their room or lab for the night. Your lack of food wasn't really an issue, as your mood had completely diminished your appetite. You had no idea what you would do once you were finally able to leave the room, you figured you would think over it while you were self-isolated. However, you did know that you would leave in the night, but would you leave a note? Or would it be better to simply leave without a trace?

It took you a long time to get the motivation to get out of bed. When you finally did, the digital clock you had been continually ignoring told you that it was nearly two o'clock in the afternoon, giving you plenty of time to pack your essentials and sentimental items before you were going to leave. You slowly packed your clothes and set them aside. When you got to packing the gadgets and little gizmos that couldn't live without, you knew you would have to do it fast and not dwell on the items or you would chicken out of leaving. You couldn't help it though, you couldn't help but sitting on your bed and reminiscing over the simple bracelet Bruce given you when he found you being overly antisocial at one of Tony's parties, "There, now we can be antisocial buddies", he'd said with a light smile. The arrow tip of the first ever arrow that you'd hit the bullseye with while Clint was teaching you how, "Thats amazing, kid! Keep it up and you'll be better than me in no time!", He said brightly as he gave you a side hug. The pocket gun that Nat had given you when on your first day with the Avengers and was downright offended when she found out that you weren't armed at all times, "Don't say anything, just accept it. You can't live a life like this and not be able to protect yourself", she'd scolded with a slight frown, you knew that she knew that you could protect yourself just fine in hand-to-hand (you'd made it to the Avengers after all). The tickets to the movie you had taken Steve to see because he had been so apprehensive of you going out alone after nightfall you ended up just taking him with you, "It was pretty good, even though I didn't understand much of it", he laughed as he ruffled your hair. The small plush toy of your favorite childhood show that Tony had given you simply you had remarked that you hadn't had anything like that as a kid, "It's fine, you deserved it then and you deserve it now kid.", he remarked with a warm smile when you'd asked him how it appeared in front of your door. When you got to the final and most important piece on your desk, you nearly unpacked everything as your resolution to leave nearly crumbled. You picked up the throwing knife that Bucky had given you, it had been his favorite originally, but he'd given it to you so that a part of him would always be with you when he went on missions, "No, it's yours, if I ever need it, I'll bring it with me, but you'll be at my side when that happens too", he said deeply while looking deeply into your eyes, as if memorizing every aspect of them, as yours searched his face to try and find the meaning of his words. To say the tears fell continuously while you packed would be a major understatement.

By the time the items were all packed and ready it was nearly 10 p.m. You pushed the suitcase and small bag under your bed in case anyone opened your door while you laid and stared at the ceiling in an attempt to sleep before you left, as you knew that you had a long night ahead of you. The door was locked but you also lived in a house full of superhumans, so you knew that you could never be too careful., and there had been several knocks on your door, from your te- from your family as they tried to get you out of your room, for what, you had no idea. As you stared, you decided that you should probably write a note, because if you didn't, your team would come looking for you as a potential kidnapping case. Hell, they would look for you either way, but they knew that if you didn't want to be found then you wouldn't be. You got up and wrote a very short and to the point note to the team, 'I love you all, but I have to leave. Please don't look for me, I don't want to be found right now.' You knew that if you wrote any more than that, you would break down completely, or more than you have already that is. You folded and pocketed the note before preparing to write another. You wrote a separate note specifically to Bucky, even though you knew full well that it would gut you to write it, " Bucky, I love you, I really do, and I always will, you're the love of my life, but I had to leave. I know that I'm a coward for doing so, for not facing the consequences of my actions, but I couldn't take the pressure of it all anymore. I know that you of all people can understand. This will be hard for both of us, but you can't beat yourself up about this. Me leaving is not and never will be because of anybody on the team, so don't blame them. Don't spend all of your time sulking, love. Please live your life, as it was meant to be lived. I don't expect you to wait for me. However, I will send you my location when I deem myself capable of seeing anyone again, but that might take a while, and I will fully support and understand you if you never go to that location or never want to see me. Again, I love you, Buck.'

Your paper was heavily tearstained, but you honestly didn't notice. You folded the wet parcel into a smaller square and put it in your pillowcase, with the hope that he would be the one to find it. When you got up from your chair, you looked over to check the time and saw that it read 1:15 in the morning, you decided that was late enough to leave. With a heavy heart you quietly gathered your things and set off outside of your room. You set the note addressed to the team on the kitchen table, so they would all see it in the morning. After that, you set off to the stairwell, as Jarvis would have records of all of the elevator uses and walked through the front doors of the tower. You didn't look back, you kept moving forward with constant tears in your eyes. When you finally stopped walking, you were far from the city, and even farther from the life you'd known.

[the-anonymous-vent-blog]

So I started high school this year and they gave this stupid rule where dressing up for Halloween is a “senior privilege” and like I wanna dress up so bad because Halloween is my favorite holiday and I can’t stand not dressing up while others do and I know it’s gonna be really bad for my mental health. I had the idea of dressing up the day after and just saying it’s a cosplay, but then some seniors yelled at me for even suggesting that. I don’t know what to do. I know imma have panic attacks tommorrow but I can’t miss school and I can’t deal with the stress I’m litterally crying I don’t know what to do. Halloween is one of the main reasons I’m still alive. The only thing that keeps me going and makes me go to school is spirit days, and Halloween is the peak of spirit days. I don’t know what to do. I know this is written bad I’m just so stressed and ahhhh. And this is my dream costume. My teacher and seniors keep telling me just to wait my turn but this is my dream costume and the rule is so stupid and I just feel like dying. My mental health is gonna plummet and I’ll probably spend all day tommorrow in the guidance office having panic attacks. I know I’m being ridiculous but it’s just so important to me. Like what if I don’t survive to senior year, then I’ll never get to. The rules unfair and it’s stressing me out and I just don’t know what to do. This is so important to be but I don’t wanna get yelled at or kicked out of the school or get detention or bullied by seniors, but I feel like i want to die if I don’t get to dress up. It makes me feel so sad and depressed and just hopeless. It’s stressing me out and I just want to dress up. And I know I’ll have so many panic attacks tomorrow and it won’t be worth it.

Im honestly not sure what you can do, if anything would be effective or get you anything more than despair.

Do you know if anyone else feels it's an unfair rule? Other people must be upset at this rule aswell. Has anyone else been vocal of their dislike towards it?

I can't imagine everyone is just fine with that rule. I find the attitudes people have expressed towards you so odd. Why are they so passive towards it? Kids in my school barely adhere to bathroom rules, hell we took pieces of the bathroom for funsies. Allowing costumes as a privilege only to seniors would cause a hoard of costumed children spirit week would weep at. How long ago was this rule even made?

I hope there will be others who go against this rule, but I understand that most may just not care. Try to find out if others are gonna defy the rule, either by eavesdropping or asking. You might be able to dress up and stick with them.

I hope if anything you're able to go trick or treating. It'd be so shitty if not.

[raayllum]

i’m mainly thinking (and hoping) they’ll reconcile pretty quickly because it’s a kids show and i think they’re going to blindside us with sudden angst because it’d really hit harder if they make up and then poof rayla gets kidnapped

I mean I think whatever Rayllum's arc will be, emotionally, won't be bc it's a "kid's show." Like TDP still very much is, even as it's now more so for older kids (middle school) but I don't think that's ever impacted where they let the characters go, emotionally.

However, I do think it's likely they'll reconcile and get back together on the quicker side (aka maybe with just 1 or 2 episodes of conflict about, leaning more towards one) simply because 1) Callum's primary concern is that she was gone and possibly dead and 2) they both still love each other. While I think they'll have disagreements and Callum's anger will justifiably crop up later, I could see him also not dealing with it right away because he has her back and wants to focus on that as well (or more so - lots of big feelings to work through)

I think either situation could be in character, which is really fun, but I am leaning towards a faster "get together" if only because wearing the scarf seems to be connected to it - Callum doesn't wear it in 4x01 but he has it on for most of the trailer, particularly once she's come back. Either Rayla took it and has returned it or Callum feels like he can wear it again bc it reminded him of her ("You've been wearing this scarf for as long as I've known you" was Rayla's line from Through the Moon) and both paths are like... would he be wearing it if he was still Pissed at her and they weren't fully together, right, so? That's kinda where my brain is

I also think that like, one of the big things they have to do if Rayla used against Callum this season (or vice versa or whatever) is reaffirm their love for each other in big ways. Yes they're teenagers but they've always a very mature side to their dynamic, and that is worth doing crazy shit to them for, risking things, dying for each other, etc.

One of the tests they have to pass this season is whether they (really Callum) can move past their separation into forgiveness. I don't think it's gonna be easy, and I think it'll be a process, but Callum being glad and relieved above all else to see her would be a Big way of showing that they love each other unconditionally and that he never wants to live without her if he can help it (he's also just very bad at staying mad at her tbh)

On the one hand if he takes some time to be mad at her / they're not Together together right away, it means he's denying a part of himself, parallels to 2x07-2x09 with Rayla responded to him doing dark magic, and would also provide a conflict resolution if she gets captured (aka "it doesn't matter what you did before, I just want you to be okay again"). I feel like we'll see something almost like in the middle, but who knows! All of them are interesting and emotional paths forward to weep over

[beautifulhigh]

I’m here because I just read your comments on time, curious time and I seriously wanted to cry. I’ll write a proper response there, but also one response isn’t good enough. You have the ability to make me fall back in love with my own writing with the way you take passages and analyze them and draw conclusions and make everything feel so profound in a way that makes me think, “damn… I wrote that??” And at a time when writing isn’t coming very naturally to me, I owe you the world’s biggest thank you ❤️

Jen, the honour is absolutely mine and I’m only sorry it took me so long to get around to reading it in full! Although it was very much worth the wait and the time (heh) I neglected other things to focus on that.

You absolutely should love your writing - I certainly do. Whether it’s intentional or not, the layers and the crafting and the echoes and the callbacks are all there. And that is, at heart, what “death of the writer” means. Once you have written something and put it out there then it’s the property of the reader, of the person engaging with it. So if they say that you wrote something that made her heart feral and made her want to lie on the floor weeping and to cry at how beautifully all the threads and the moments lead up to that last one? Well then that’s what the story is.

Other readers’ milage may vary, but that’s mine.

I will always look to make time for your writing, no matter how long it takes me. I just hope that it’s worth the wait.

[ram-de]

what else do you seek for?

i feel like puking. doing. it's the same everyday. it's the same everyday. it's the same everyday. the same routine, the same kind of food, the same kind of sin and the same kind of reluctance. the same kind of "tomorrows", the same kind of "it's okay", the same kind of stagnancy. the same kind of regrets and the same kind of ignorance.

it's too much and it's too little at the same time. it's confusing me but yet it's not surprising at this point. everything. everything seems so mundane and seems so distant. too far to reach, too far to see, too far to believe. i don't believe. i don't even know what i'm clinging to. i don't know what is my lifeline is. i don't know what i'm doing with myself.

i'm not even scared. because i deserve whatever consequences i would face. it's worthless to think of the future because i'm messing it up as of now. because i can't do salvation. because i don't do fixing up.

words are useless. words are meaningless. they're just letters on paper. they're just letters on the screen. they're just things my mind made up to make myself feel better. words are powerless without an ounce of beliefs. without an ounce of trust. without an ounce of will. words are simply, simply just ideas that poured.

how long since you cried? too long. it doesn't even have an impact on actual reflection. they're just wept of someone who doesn't know what else to do. a cries to the void. tears that worth absolutely nothing for the future.

how long since you felt fulfilled? too long. you let yourself see hope. feel the hope. but you wouldn't cling to it. you wouldn't let yourself climb onto whatever hope is presenting you up there. because you don't believe. you don't trust. you're just. what are you? what am i?

what the hell am i seeking for in this life?

i want to. i want to.

ha! who am i even trying to impress? don't fucking lie to your own self. you don't even know what you want to. and that's so miserable. you don't know and yet you don't try to seek. you don't try to heal. you don't allow for ideas. you don't allow for reflection. you try to reflect, writing what's wrong but you. don't. even. think of fixing it. you just let those words rust and corroded by time. by your own lack of care. by your own ignorance of neglecting those words of reflections. you shed all the tears, of wishing to be better, but once that tears made a puddle, you don't bother weeping it up. you let it dry until the next time you had to cry again.

what. what am i?

what am i doing?

what am i seeking for?

who am i.

who.

i''m not having an existantial crisis or anything. it's nothing like that. it's just. i'm so angry with myself, but at the same time i'm just whatever. it's so fucking frustating being on this point again and again and again and again. and the some times my fucking brains took pity on me and began reminding me of how miserable i am. how i am lacking in friends and probably going to have trouble making friends and being a good friend and would die alone. and then i cry and forget and distract myself. and then my mind would remind me of how i kept neglecting responsibilities. and then i would cry and do nothing about it. or my mind would remind me of how i have nothing. of how i kept messing things up. of how i'm not doing anything. while the world rotates and revolves, while the sun was beaming light and warmth, while the birds are chirping and while the people are busy polluting the air with cars and motorcycles. life just passes for everyone else, with them making new friends and keeping old ones, some married and other graduates, some made families and other climbing corporates, some do competitions and other pursue their passion. some just hang out and feeling life and others seeking purpose. through religion. through ideology. through politics. through family. through hobbies. through pets and companions. through friendship and through romance. through their own body.

while i'm doing fuck nothing. while i'm rotting away. while i'm fading away. while i'm forgetting myself. while i'm losing myself. in self-pity. in my fragility.

i want to shout. i want to scream and i want to break things. i want to fucking do one thing right. i want to finish an assignment. i want to maybe draw. i want to learn languages. i want to go abroad. i want to made friends. lots of friends. i want to be confident in my body. i want to connect with people and upload photos. i want to read lots of books. i want to kiss someone. i want to have a place i belong to. maybe live on my own and have pets. i want to walk in the morning and feel ok. i want to jogging and light sports. i want to graduate. i want to have a job. i want to fucking live.

and it's just so. this is a cry for help! for my own self. because i've wrote these kind of writings, vents, many numerous times before. but i don't learn! i don't learn a single damned thing! i don't. i don't know! i couldn't even believe i could change. it's in my capacity to mess things up and to return to the same old routine. and it's. it's... i don't know how to convince myself that i could do it. i could. because my own voice. it's not... i could only do much. because when the repeating thoughts of failure and damnation is also occupying my thoughts that tries to cling onto that hope, it's difficult to... believe. but fuck it all! maybe i'm just projecting. maybe it's the books i read to distract myself that affected my thoughts. maybe i don't even feel like this. maybe i'm just dramatizing for this writing posts. i don't fucking know.

i wanted to see myself...

[libidomechanica]

Untitled # 8646

A ballad sequence

               1

Burns: “she’s the last extremely sick?     Are lost, where not amiss. How could not feel. Thou hast by waning     groan—who blame this brutal

folly known, somewhat unfound,     on which though not sleep; and kept the faint company. Thou doe     sitt: and yet is Princes

pallace thou leave them and my next     self thy crew. Ae e’ening on bonfires over which poured,     for she wears, but with liberal

acts enlarge, thee to the chambers     of less note, came one frail Form, swung blinded the dragon     in his head, he sung this

bitter rue. Not blind; which long and     can find nothing he loves, yet each mass may bear; Nor let me     pass untold, though I sweare,

my lord, one there. Muse; nor do like     Lords whose throat. Made bare his only wanting souls to go, whilst     thou lovest elsewhere, but

bitter blast, and eft did silent     alone, what far too wan, or there lies has neither of the     hollow of this deeper

sunk by floundering, on the bars     that might did meet her fates assigned, when a’ our father worth,     and whisper’d, fly! Came in

slow pomp; the sons prooue, I swear to     teach of his fingers over a thermostat we dare not     heave thy mammie’s wark, and

never could not vary, is constant     be. To move, and at his game. Of restless code, that now     vnnethes the day, and wasten

soone as though I do my best     I shall in ways confused braine not pointing the bed to me,     her friendships’ guarded with

power he doth expell. And I     much like a grave, letting and there will reverse. By man and     beasts can break it not the

point; the sought, or his head, and forwards,     in a platter, I am no prophet—and here! When     she I lookèd right; in which

a minutes crawl: o moaning without     thy love, of hopes and flog the forest where it bears its     fruite is frend to joy the

false to the second my design     to seize the proud archangel fell, plunged frogs can dance to be     drown’d, then would have been worth

a pease, to punish all in a     globe the one good black. Were enough can find nothing else     And grief is where was Maud?

               2

Interpreted my own. She may detain, but not     in wonted way, pursu’d, like a faithful Highland lastly, by your parts; the souls in pail,     when most impel, till the white mule she rode, he fence, running itself be lessoned so,     to see; her limbs the prison-yard, in silence like deer. That wilde place, because the ancient     that frown, he shrunk to do. The more love

when left a little bone by night of moonlight vapour,     which draws the sun hotter than his, with eyes and passionate cry, a cry for still: I     cannot the hangman with gaze of dull and as he moved him aright. Length stol’n goods doe come     to beauty be there rises every man eaten by teeth of flame there! Her rosy lips,     and Glooms, and less expected for a

hundred miles apart, robbing in the human     kind, and will no more, each tree does wear, made he tooke: well couth he tuneful voice and hot, and     feeble in that never blow. Thou kenst thou to Rome—at once; at once the wild lorelie; over     the silken fringe of cheer; the vaulted roof, the city, and the shrill winds bound, and things     I never hope to show! Had the wise

hand, but the shadow a new one, inspired:     inspired by love looks have not—to make him not thy People, to have wak’d the angels speak.     And who would it be? For Mercy has a deadly drede, so as thou wound withstood there was     not fret at that, if I could not heaven someone you not with child till it weeps both night     and double double double meaning.

               3

A hundred indecision in     his eyes are skycolor. He often I caught vpon a hole     in the wa’; and I have pleasure! Dews o’ summer’s house, with     his own: the Chaplain’s heart

of stone. But in the corners where     most life, that loue so ill bedight, would it have a noose about     her neck. Sudden black. Along, unknown; but their charms she     did, he leap’d amid the

care of prison-wall that made the     bed to me, the birds now pair in the fruitful tree, put out     broad leaves a dying smil’d, and deeper by a graine? Become     of the low wind was blind,

old and groans, but was inclined, but     hurriedly they were suddenly, with eternal Footman     hold your newly cut hair it is most air and courage to     aspire when pyramid

with liberal arts to comforting     head like a casque of scorching bride he took precedence in     such as he who lies a wretch, go chide and fasted, wept and     pants as oft as she does

not rise in piteous haste to put     into the future thunder’d up into Heaven of Song.     Of tears,. Two nights I dreamed a banished and wade mouth when an     electric blade. Which bore

my wasted, and I will, in time,     your fingers of Rhodes is summoned to dust in Humanity’s     machine, other soul with humours such famous flight from     the minstrels, and the window-

panes; they led, and slake them cruel;     for we did not evermore again. The while he spoke, and     gaping mouth, that he seemed as if a magic mantle mard,     where, no one that man’s best

dreams thine eye aside: it slays the     wind blows so red the rosebuds steeping! For thy hand. As     long as my life in me; I rather was meant to be drunken     squardon flies, as if

the moon-beam dwells at dewy e’en;     so trembling sailors ply their vessel I resign, then second     skin. Thrill and if ever I should my fresh spring. A     pardlike Spirit’s light limbs

as if to stem burning lime, and     his own ankle glance to loue, pitie the please, and so he had     the lass o’ Ballochmyle! For fourty years ago, and     falls in like shattered every

Law gave him to the conquest     for another’s terror crept. I’ll ne’er weary, I would be     lost alone. Thou lov’st no more. And sometimes think that newe is     vpryst from beneath, and mine:

give me the lust of him should be,     making earth and how shall lovers’ love ae e’ening on     wantonness, richest in arms thy loud heart to ground is blown—my     dust with awful far than

if thee partake? Of blood-dripping     some talk to each other, when remedies themselues will     not press my tongue-tied patient faith so sure as they elsewhere,     no odor but bid you

close into the fuller by a     graine? He will aspire, for which a newer band Thine age asks     ease, and so clear by the hall their stations, kiss may believe     me, my lost Lady came

there rang on his mind, care less, had     half before each could not understand to-day by day, I     bade it anywhere it feels right guid will, I do leaue what     was her own, my hope! Stretch

of mud and sea’s rich gems, with the     liberticide, is chang’d to fragrant gloom crept through each helped     us at our delight return the superior grace,     red porphir is, which a

minute will Europe’s sage mind     spills the parting is simple soule of sence bereaue, all as the     magistrate: he loves slips through all the sun as they, a field     and little, some too little

heart from you, in which to the     Evil Doer, thy dial’s shady leaves thy paine, and left a son,     though ne’er forget your mantle mates, nor thought. Birds in bushes     tooting: at length of it.

               4

The Caspian could not sleep, sleeps,     and the floor, and forests, cease to wait for his face; beauty.     For my selfe contest, death squads passe, ere she enough toil     and haps me bien, and that, oft I hear men say, is only     wanting fire did admit.

But that to show your wrist too much     refined, the fool enlighten up your motorcycle, afraid     some wandering in one explain it. Fixed a day in     my house received, expected will. Wear the charming, had ne’er     forget the Paradise!

               5

And it may chaunce to be most instruct     me how thee hold that the fair. Tell me why the Rose should     ever when others’ joy

and pausing her the other, and     let me, true in loue. In rank Ormisda loved: so stood and     sand by the way lips was

folded too, and when my mind, the     coward does it with loue thou growes neere the dead; seen the     monstrous garb with unreproachful

stare. And when her e’e, as     Robie tauld a tale of only dry instruct thine own: thou     harder hast the blacke beames

such burning to proceed in     thee, perforce already shelter in this health alchemy.     I know not what by love

he gained, that thee overcame my     soul is sense—cannot die a death alone dispersed at some     brink. Which we dwell there wert

thou? That bold and it seems, are weak;     and dull their Hell, and the cottage beneath; Live thou, cried     Urania; Prithee why so mute?

               6

At the tended him day by day,     and the more spell. Has neither example please, by wine     discovers with the balm, the

moor, no mixture did admit. Or     else to oblivion as the flitting of something morn.     Knowing in rattling

rod, the vale? Stella hath, with our     spirit man not walk by night? And have squeezed the vaulted roof,     the vaulted roof rebounds.

               7

Bodies fill withered limbs go lame!     Stuttering band, and, as his tale o’ love: o Jeanie on     the crammed fowl comes in at

the dark, in the rival chance or     nature undo its native nightgown in this cross: but he     drank the means to fight, but

her, it is not gone; cuckoo; cuckoo,     cuckoo then, I had a mother side of what was to     see except only air

was lethal. To have been worth a     pease, to feede, and the sky! The cuckoo-buds of coming, that     crazed his thought, and that I

know thy Neck beneath; soothe her the     floor. Girt round them go, slim shadow of that for hir darlings     sake, knowing what he dared,

the beams have gone back appeareth.     Invulnerable nothing else transfer a weak, I wanne:     thou love was the motion

to your rimes, running noose for the     feast renews; the crammed fowl comes along each grated screen things     work and bright meet in a

sheet of flame! Creeps with the dead leaves     linnet’s pipe retires, their arms, with pole. Wound in heaven’s light.     Bate between me and headlong

inside you a debt, that no     child’s foot could escaped for a hundred years before, already     were not, but an

expansion, like that carefull coupe.     Have mowed, had I the bed to me. Yet little heap of sheaves     amid their head, and false

New England forests, castle wa’;     and I will not favoured the awful far the Burial     Office read, nor, when

with debt: for that worst but wantoning     wind aloof the poplar fell upon her necke become?     But still in joy both day

and her crimes are grieved, that sliding     across that kiss, shall knows, is admitted effluence cannot     like or they have depart!

And what strangers like his only     care, her air like name of chekes indure marble, mixt     red and breath goes, and so

its ink has paled with lying trick     of the woe that will pass his dying smile the ravisher     pretty looks fresh, and me.

               8

Ah God, that folly, the west, the     braw lass made the bridegroom at their jingling keys opened wide,     wi’ twa white hands which all

to what chills and kiss’d her dearer;     o that’s done in a light limbs I feel smiles bright, dreaming round     the skirts that man’s heart than

she. To become not worth while, to     have stolen what I felt she were joined, but thanked somehow—I     know not Him—become not

with a sword! Sharp like his suit he     moved, and the blooming flats. While the voice, which this maidenhood     against a telephone

pole, and I sunned it with your     self, nor blindly give to such a wistful eye; the vessel     bear their ring. Desire

is time for three leathern thongs, rose     palm? Thou send’st from the sky Fair Empress of her heart beneath,     he had adorns with

officious fool broke in the magistrate.     Beneath, Prithee why so pale? And how soon things of grace. That     is bigger than his, with

a kiss at last, alone, and Peace,     and soon the whole of human voice is hush’d over time or     company below, yet

prove the lambs bleat. Things to come away!     Thy foot to hang over her dying hour of fitful     dreamer, awake! For virtue

onward stroke; wrought availed to     win her, wanderings I have given her eyes can see this     simple soule oppressed, not

more short a date: something else is.     Except thus we rust Life’s appointed arrow sped the ground:     but be your eyes let its

fierce, perhaps too much, or Paint must     never fails to make him not the wind of mine for our grief     itself in milk and life

is drye and so much, yet ’tis your     mother gasping for breathed with it Leave me the wildness of     the sea by sea-girls wreathed

the yard that waits for fool and     know they fell: that is love- kindling firmly to the cool flowers,     and closely furl’d, then

nightingale and faded violets,     which, like a madman on a dewy morning. Out in the     bodies how the sky Fair

Empress of the Lark should Human     Pity do pent up in rank and forbid her thou being     blinde was falling shower.

               9

With their den into the world dreams     do I live o’er me cast, deprived of flight: whilome thy wynters     sorowe. Arose; the

spirit’s awful eye upon the     spousals are privileged alone, though the river sat, and     feared his though our tears the

tended him so that made the     basilicas rise in Jerusalem, Constantinople,     Sicily; watched your head

toward our single grace. Be ready     Maias bowre, than when it was a soul, and more, oh, never has     such as bid my heart is

far too soon, and the bosom of     them in the lonely glade— there is so much, is not it at     all. It sinks, the old stock

the means were through which Sense and cherish’d;     others will thy deeds to pray; who was there, when if her     eyes young heart let my poore

Muse on state, for her courtesie; but     what I meant to fayne, and through all maskes my circle rides,     stunned with his hands that must

not Percie howe the rain unceasing     to fade at the world’s slow shuffled and love comes! In the brush     in the dead a light so

long but as a kiss by young sinners     gave, be mould; not like of that Face will sure under the     noises of the tree. For

well the day I die, the lassie     o’ my care, and, the tardy day: by this I know thy mind;     those throat and some way to

here. Of happier they had killed     the eye that watch’d the flesh and bowe you a debt, that tender     love ae e’ening on a

pin, when it grew both day and wanne     he was fair, and bitter lot vibrated, as the last. A     rule how fair, I lo’e thee

clime the dead was of his accustom’d     prey, or lead to her roots against fear here, on one fount     was laid, and swing and woes.

               10

The deep, the loves, yet each day is     like the north I tooke him to their gazing he laboured,     for their single selves into

the Heaven itself alone,     so is it not think what scene and lavender brood, the mirrors     of until its spacious

moon, and God from him when the     mouse behind the blooming flats. As it has a deadly stride:     with iron heel it slays

the laity our loving fingers,     asleep … tired … or it mens follies blend, was what lift     and day: and eke tenne thousand

grows never she to despair!     I kindly in thee, sweet in that next best bed. When my free     side, or am I borne

darkly, fearful meditation!     Struck, so rous’d, so rapt Urania’s eyes were mine With mop and     morning, broken, dreaming

on the centre, dart thy selfe at     large and more, from beneath thee, my love her, cuckoo; cuckoo,     cuckoo! His clown-accent

and wound; some holy hands not so     the earth’s wet breathe a prayer the while the offenders, thus     I will not sweet civilities

of life, three bands of greene,     let be, art, already, known through the pit. Yet am I     richer far in hay. After

there, no more, that must have little     God I heard the nightgown in our wood; and his arrows     sends; by that fair stand, yours

forever. Thus mutual render     the lassie, O. Not the foreheads felt that bright. Oh Dearest,     canst not such a lover,

and make our visit. The fuller     by a graine? Than forgive: arise, my God, and his way,     and when we met, jumping

from your boughes the ysicles     remain’d to heal a common sense he knew by what it did,     and terror crouching like

his heart breaks the coward bold; the     little thing blow. Time, you at the patient grew: he wrote, and     in drains, let fall upon

its stub branches held me upon     a wintry clowns repair, but is abroad in the twist, and     made it deeper than they,

yet am I richer far in     the morrow, month following friends do say, and thus him playnd,     the frosty window shade.

               11

Where the candles fix’d foot, makes it     bless me with generous though I feed my flocke and touch my     braunch of your mind that newe

is vpryst from your fortune amply     bless an impious act with a meek embrace, and even     her bed. For Mercy has

a deadly drede, so as they, the     wreckful siege of battering wainscot shriek’d, or from the Earth’s     shady leaves linnet fondly

laid, and never yet have beheld     it shine, and hacked and look’d as she now, no force of fear     and great or little white

farmhouse undergrowth; then separable     spite, while euerie office their cumbrous, dinsome joys, can     they transfuse with honour

me, unless they will not despise.     Consuming there they were crown’d. Dust to those, when she: What make     your self, the city, and

the green. She looked so wistful eye     upon the guard, drawn up in rank Ormisda loved: so stood     prepared amends for who

eats Profit of a Fool? Out of     his soul beggary, deere, loue me now. A torment thrown Lost     Angel of a ruin’d me.

               12

What once      interpreted my own.     But Fortune is sincere, was the country rings are more than     they, stains the fruitful tree,

why do ye fall so fast, the Shepherd’s-     purse, and pride might I still hems him round with many tears     in the loathsome myre: such

immortall mirrhor, as he doth     loath a loathed rite Thou, sun, art half as happy maid, while euerie     offices, so oft as

this and the smoked his pilgrim of     Eternity, yielding nothing such, which fell to what gelid     fountain whence thou free

they resort. With inharmonized     the streams renew thy perfume from a game. The trouble     with the sash a shake, as

witnesse well knew that, thought. Here pause:     these grave. Is constant be. I bow’d our feelings ebb and starry     skies; and the bundle

of the Eternal wings, will your     hand in my sight, and thou with the glen sae bushy, O, aboon     the skirts that may thirst

of gold. The shades o’ dawn are fled,     in a’ its crescent moon dropped upon the dewy fields were     rounding gray. In the gardener’s

gloves are for two, or three, I     will darkness grope: we did not mix’d with myself where’er that     Power may move lie buried

Caesar bled. When icicles     hang by the morning’s eye, her air like a cloud they their grooms     are for the Lord of grace.

Doubted for this one legend to     Phoebus was not free, ah! To its own; most terrible hammer-     blows. Tho’ e’er sae fair

may find, in this, all honor’s laws.     And all the sun, who, in my waking day they left no echo     of the man should a

foolish mind of my white line we     had no word to shepheards deuise she stands, for lofty loue he     seemed, nor other pleased amid

a Heaven someone you not!     Time, you there is not: you are sleep it selfe on Vertues     A lattice wrought up true.

               13

Were the Spring’s maturity,     checks Summer’s honey breath, we bow’d our heart. Transparent as     this … Then thou proposing

durst, how such a seneschal? Yet     when the matted grange. Carrying him we loved perhaps too     much refined, that I were

dried before another’s love, Ay,     fill it full of syllogisms. Or else to thee: make but     ministered shall flow, i’ll

trouble you see how to dare, and,     being mine. Which Luna felt, that has but change, in sack of     a turtle rest one, has

perish’d long! Us little, some     with soft deceitful wiles. Richest in bronze glow. With delight     return their youth with slouch

and swing around, around the inmost     heard a busie bustling. Of blood on it, best one, and ye     forest leaves have sunk, extinct

in the beautiful procession     blest, i’d feast prepared of seeming sadness that deep     wound with soul ill sorted

with his nail, and that laid itself     alone and breath. So praysen babes the bosom was past; the     shrill not enough to stock

the People, to save all that is     it, my Heart? Loved looked upon his inke, and here’s strategy?     Of herself should despair,

I lo’e thee shamefull coupe.     And little roof does run, when his breast, that nowe sleepe art dead,     and threwe: but not distinguish’d

breath had caught him self a drap     o’ dew, whose business of this. The sinking sure, to speak. He     woo’d the scope and Music’s

power of beauty, Common Sense.     All so my lustfull leafe is dreary, he cometh not, she     said: The end against the

approved, nor cold but blow more constant     to be refresht, these obstinate to say just what I     might hath built of alabaster

pure immortal fire. Whilst     some fairest in my ears, the price. And every year. And every     part To save, and Loue

in me; I rather would wake us,     and thou should be lynched in that little laps over which     heaven and woxen old.

               14

Then day resign, then separate from     East to West: whither hied, a sad distemper’d guest, but     mutually we alternate,

aware or unaware, through     curtain, to and freesing fires: some once more fit for show     precedence in such unholy

ground, and yet I do call my     friends remained, the ones thy mind; he spoke, and sung this was white     fog. And Grace, sicke in sooth,

as nature suit. Have pitch’d in a     curbside pool. Twilight is flown, splendour sprung. Let us go,     through my obedience.

               15

Water was what you’d left a son,     thou hast got by feare, of wot not with adder fight, but scant     appear, and in my early

morning wind and rare: but soon     will thy paine of such a rate for needy fate. The stead of     wife about his clear; and

found a light upon my lips will     thy paine, of her pap and gum, rich beads of amber through the     dragon-fly came in his

radiant beams have the law of change     directly steered, when I reach’d that terse muse of the chaff with     seaweed red and wholly

spoken a worthy heir: his eldest     born, a goodly youth that break all the self-same way to     bed I trace a distant

view: so checking his head, and     whenever saw a man who looked so wistful eye; that fix you     inside his guard; thou do

see what oceans of delicate     and bare but in the sea by sea-girls wreaths be near, swear to     glanced athwart what we are.

And all the kindest use a knife,     because he is at peace— this wretched beneath secure they     scourge the one good hath found

in earth’s wet breast to West: whither     things pant with your shadow of a fox, daybreak. We found the     beauties totall summe summ’d

in her eyes: thus mellow’d to the     forehead, when the mortal! I have walk’d awake him.—Head in     ease, more by the Land. Dear

Christ for show precedence in sun     her shine, and gray walls moulded into each of us, and     twenty-five years by sun

and move, by flowers plucked in my     madness went every blot on a remember yet, which thus     our man-beast, advancing

by reflection and secret causes     of stone in war a weak disdains the flight: from his breath     A pardlike Spirit’s place.

               16

The touch’d on me this brutal lust.     So prayse is beauty in disgrace and matrons, beside your     will quite clear song of night slick with tears fell from Time’s remorse     even for a noble race, and made excuse thee: the     barbershop. For fear; he often

is his grave! He cut it should     have her weel again. When beauty and tincture list’ning seem’d     to my thigh almost spent, a mind at peace, peace! And ever     was the last cloud or a tree, why do ye fall so fashionable.     I had not Love hath

taken, and tea. We rock each other     she touch a verb dancing in despair in this ill-wresting     worlds passed her the wet leathern thongs, most mad and it seems,     are privileged alone, what not his world of men holding     bay was fair as any

mother side of the horrid     treachery of monument, whose Teeth are dark, with fear, and his     suit was heard they survey; and if that springs; and alien     to knowledge, and fell asleep. Heavenly harmony,     from all this woman, who’s

to Love and violet breathed to help     my beggared? At morning. A stepdame eke as when thy     feet where with as fierce, perhaps that make the dreamer, beam on     the windy sigh: for each to each other personal     narrative burns to a hole.

Not how to forgive: arise, ye     faint half-flush that best behind their plight. Tho to a hole. Of     seeming arms thy love regain, for liberty without a     tree. In their crime the Muse hath not the muck of the path I     cannot Music raise him

down from the rest on my distress;     and little God I heard my father and o’er the flowers.     And thou afore, and heard the sky mouth and be one traveler,     long I shott, that held the peace a charge to eat a peach?—Send     word by Charley snarling,

go back, my lord, above thee his     face; beauty walks by night, would mountain shepherd blows his name     did with delight in we went rounds to fruitful tree, put out     broad comment makes the tear shall bow thy might, that made all that     I did Cupid got new

fire—my mistress over wrack, as     the downward seek the Indian wealth wherewith affrayd     I ranne away, it eats the heart asleep: a maid of Dian’s     this mortality. Late school boys and we had carefull     case to moan, but in the

men were was not favour lose all,     and makes me end where will use a running noose for her bow     and sighes breath or herdsman’s heart would be. Live to the heart     the cool flowers that love of Juliana stung! Thy beauties     totall summe summ’d in

heaven and sunly and leaning     trade with wine, on the mornings, morning. But, as no great god     Pan, far in hay. Lassie, O.—The bonie lass that dim apartment     cooling around, he is at peace, peace! At once impair’d     the stroke of strong has he

went, unterrified, fond wretched     man—at peace, and so that disappointed height to those palm?     Throw out her full force am thine, have seen the moonshine, I     say and day; who watch the enemy’s hospital: cut to     my bosom heavenly

way, since she can lend—they borrow     not like corpses in a cave; and she that spangled too, and     wasten soone it sore encreased. One spark of your mind.—And     even her break the sun a sheet of flame! As frozen in     passing by, behold my

plighted, rival chance conducted,     or on a man’s despite. I ask’d her sleepy crew, the poplar     made, was tender fool who will we loved her how her voice     can recall which touch the flower grows erect, as though vnfelt,     doth shining vessel bear

the business of this thine: to-morrow     was, and fountains rise, as Love, t’ acquit such excellence;     who had sent before, I told how haste descends on me,     consuming the heard an oath. So reason in the first my     self, nor blames her love ae

e’ening on the heart has but slackt     the two doomed ship again, and all thee? In the streams continuing     in complices, the yellow bird hung over     Endymion’s sleep their trailing purple blossom in the Fool’s Parade!     Live thou doest proceeds.

               17

But mutual render, and ways?     And silent alone amid a murderers’ Hole? Can see,     so long as soote as Swanne.

               18

Know I meant, at all Who mourns not     half so nice as being together, speaking day the     envenomed dart, a tickling page than the streams renew their     native night; sleep, her tread aloft in rurall musick holdeth     scorn denied me the

pleasure! It felt, that somewhat slacke,     which Thee enriches at thy unkindness lays upon your     mind. His rival ither’s lays; the craik amang the liberticide,     but grind the forms a two-part can be hugged, or lie     here his being mine, mine—

our father’s care nor tutor’s art     could plant and sea; then the music from herb and stone, and I     sunned it with payne, that she was calm, and sometime declined     the rose nor red may blesse the praetor bent to clutch for euer,     who in thy deeds like bells.

               19

Clouds wrapped your hands, as if she ranked     my gift of a mighty manhode brought it was the children     waved their strength you can make

your will quite clear you could know. And,     being ravished dame. They know, i’m half return, and a     broken urn, for the Sum

of right guid will, in time, lose thee,     drop heavily down,—burst, shattered limbs the plumes upon the     sky like a madman on

a dewy morning, sleep; the means     that keeps her cottage roof, at once a net, now he fled to     me, the lass that rugged

way, for my birth till day: by my     gude luck a maid I met, just in the End shall profit thee     back, shall eat thy thyrse and

quick to yours; o then, on every     stone boats. Yet still unsure: in delay the wreckful siege of     beauty fires of Heaven’s

smile on its wings; by that you may     be, that I do preferred his den? Within the love that this     second health alchemy.

               20

Is to pleased woes with new-borne stroke between there’s     more—swells toward childhood will not gainsay love we sporten in his unguarded breast bo-peepe     or clowne, lyft vp thy seeing will ride,

keeps his pale limbs, and water turbidly ran, and     knew that Love hath the mud. If to love, sustains a wretched minutes tells me, woe, woe is     me, whom shee lou’d, declined the last he

dwelt, that is love? Upon her bread that brightness? What     deaf and with woe, vpon so fayre a morow? An attic-crib. The golden lights that spurn the     guarded breast, and said: The end again,

and sing on the boundlesse armour rusts, and raw in     fields the Hunter and evill fare: mayst witness all with sword consume us day by day     whose smiled, nor pale, nor the sky? Sicker

Willye, thou wound and smutty jest, that they enter, and     his heard flash’d through a straw. As silent, surprise, fixed a day in my judgment’s plastic stress     rous’d Death: Death thou dost distrust she saw

me. For this maiden cherish’d long! What’s to commend     them from the trumpet shall live, treading towers of Rhodes is the nursling net, which mads the     snake Memory wakes a dead soul to

Cymon, overjoyed: Do thou please me, suffering     Accuser also to bid good-night? Told it not with you now. With a sigh: for each redeem     a bride. Mighty youth, and slay me low,

i’ll troublous tydes han leaue nothing he lovely     Knight, even a bud but a possibility poised at somewhat unusual heats are     hard, naked stood, and hear; your virtue

now I have known the iron age, goethe has gone himself     into your cream here’s no great gouts of blood I drink a tun to my Propertius.     Your hair, whose thee: ah!—To be, belovëd,

what delight, she blush’d to annihilation,     beyond all the Regulations of though as forfeit faith so sure I? With chosen friend,     and, lang ere witless men who tramp the

yard, naked trees unrooted left alone amid     a Heaven, far remove, and Love a dateless lovers are but since she can lend—they     borrow not and Pleasures while amid

a Heaven shines, Earth’s healing power? Another     dames of maiden cherish’d, a godlike mist, and ne’er forgetful of all sound: less the wondered     if any things here Alas! Of

the towers of a fruitful seeds within the world     with a soft October night, a kind compasse weight, or raise, I thank’d her syne, while amid     the stove. So much loyalties’ expense,

and feed his bower between the most I would be     so you ran and beauteous blaze upon the ground than ever was the lassie thocht na lang     till day. What fond and raw in field is

spread it doun; she put that bee which Luna felt, thought,     or whether Laws be right, from life to the tomb. For who can say by what is so dramatic     this spirit’s sister’s hand, for birds

sang sae merrilie; the fanning wind and rot, wrapt in     leash, whose prelude held in holy silence is more.—The dewy fields and mow, we said I     love, who lie in gaol is that celestial

face, one on another I-am poem,     the songsters twittered every virtue they but only gleaned. So let us go and     maiden fair I chanc’d to spy: her lot.

               21

The man prevailed above. The genteel     and elegant aunt bleed in the simmer sun, blest wi’     contentedly, and eft did silently appropriated     and aye she stood, and held in holes, as he cared to menage     loathsome myre: such stormy

main; but do not pray within.     Felt she was History. Dull sublunary loves me and the     butt-ends of Lust, some wheeled in peace a charge to stock their foreign     ground, sobbing and wit; if vaine loue to flutes, to dance to     lodge till nigh on the matted

grange. You whom I could give no     more lived so that eye doth much increase; from her am grieved     to walk into an epoch with mourning vessel strong upon     there is store: the world then thy Idolaters slept, and     life is a broken,

blossoming Century. So was thy     Will, ’ and with eternal wings, the kissed, half falling temples     you love the light that Benedictionaries methode bring     you were mixed, till overborne with the drowsy waked; and     love the liar—rough window-

panes; they lead they should his rival     chanced his name day. Good-morrow to move a tear. Is     Man, his chicken heard her breathed the dew. Was standing on, the     tears fell wither in heaven and wound I seal. As he fell     asleep! And wholly spoken

a worthy to live. Doth fall     full, if th’ other personal life. A month at least.     For fear’d but thanked men—good! This service shouldst now depart,—     beautiful each and gazed into each man does not still procure,     a field and it seems apart,

robbing and your self, nor blindly     wove and fall when thou leftst them, shedding air bubbles, little     fisherman swore he had to see his face: yts time shooting.     She said; and rid my pain I could not so great: it is     most serious ways, that

Indian common vows be tied:     with arts. Her limbs as if she said I am aweary     I would bless you with such glee: to men who tramped, and dreadful     dawn was resolved the rhyme, the little lintwhites in field     and didna joy blink in

her heart a-keeping? I feel the     throat, eye and sunly and let this man’s despair, I lo’e thee     not, when midway on this book this light a country’s pride; that     breed a bloodless sickness. And stupid eyes to weepe in me     do flowe! Though I feed my

flower Not all mine Oten reede,     wherein my love’s coming and your poesie wring; ye that dead body     marred. If your mind that made the barbershop. One must prize     in safety landed on that passionate cry, and of mine.     Flower, and his sacred

organ’s praise, nor durst he knew that     ground, wet with your mother& father dear, and her cheek the blessed;     more and panting fires: some one his sonned sheep, and sung this     bitter gall, to drink a draught, of a youth propose the mind     and bowe your eyes are

seacolor. Is my soul intent on     Death is a gentle cast, whom thus he cheered: O Rhodian youthfu’     May its bloom well in prisoner to my bosom of the     soul, but hurriedly they lead the queen of Poetesses;     Clarinda knew; but crowding

on bonfires over my lady’s     live in the beams and less to eternity! Why am     I lorne? So. Could be your own, restoring what the heard     from his gold complexion dimm’d or shar’d its crescent moon to     the shadow sway. I should

look upon that ages, empires     and fear had gaz’d on Nature brought every day fresh as     a rose in June, I to her head as from Candia they     restoring what the heaven’s lightning leer, each time leaves bedew’d,     awake unto me!

               22

For Man’s grim Justice; but when I     answer’d must be twain, although you care to prove among the     statues, music, from her ambrosial rest to his verse of     Cain became like a bird

on every boughs and slake, in the     roofs of their moon-faced lords advance, they controlled brow and furrows     on my rock and quivering as if she compasses     through the voice, which this the

just excuse the streamlet and spend     in light, since hap always am a graceful troop appear,     and hinted for thy hand. A dateless blot on a     remember’d name! To the gallows’

need: so Cymon, here all thee?     And grow a home again; And there; so, nor plainly set her     wits to your cream here. Of longing though love’s coming, that not     his due, there though its giant

orange ball to roll it toward     the smoke that rare gift to dance to pick up who hast brought in     lead, move right, dream and fasted, wept and faded violet breast     alone. And why is it

not what I meant, at all: only     a stretched manners taught Grief made the bed to me. Pray; who watches     their moon-faced lord; heap’d on her bed, across the public     trust to the joyous wood

the ghastly Wraith of one than death,     if thou doe sitt: and yet is Prince Hamlet, nor who can say     by what he is tall and if that he seem’d to walk into     a dell. These fruite of Nature

brought ye forest leaves have sunk,     extinct in the roof, the swallow still in Friendships’ guarded     with Tyranny the Glass of meate, for three long gold tunnel     I believe me, my lord,

of jealousy; it is only     bare: for flowers have dream’d two human heart of stormy air.     Of Hony and of their dryness today when fox-kits come     into the palace gleam

satiate the greasy Joan doth my     rest defence; for, soone as thought of passion have my though not     let me pass untold, though you could float on your boughes the     stones and most dearly; that

lies in a suit of Writers mind;     and on it, best one, has perish’d long! Same way, pavilioning     wind with woe, vpon so fair, good-morrow must go, to sing,     advaunce the fair unhappy

maid, while greasy hempen band     arose; the shepherds pipe as sad as plover’s head! Nor Dog     Star so inflame designed, with formal pace and soon things about     thee, and some wandering

if they blur the reeds by the     hideous prisoner had to die in better good she mought     her necke bene ioynted bourne: and my will be time to hate     or else to the bush, listening

cell, than the sky, and baffled,     get up to hip Her throat But just like Matisse’s Red     Odalisque. He answer’d must be tried: the timely buds with the     bush had ne’er forsake, hung

half before another’s other     foot, obliquely run; thy firmness makes the Rhodian Pasimond     his country clowns repair, but in thee, and now I raise.     Mixed, till country clime had

fallen—on this or that palenesse     brags it self grew fair some wheeled in smirking pairs: with mortal     though greater loss with a kiss, they took his branded and     bright eyes, at whose prelude

held hands in hall, nor a cloth upon     his mind, awakes the care to lead you there among     the unweeting groan—who blame this scythe his shield a burning,     we find a home again.

               23

High over them and under them and under thee.     No things were slick-faced. It is sweet perhaps not a word. For the surface the rude shaft which     loose the prison wall was sternly still

in Friendship, at length with his own Phaëton. And which     prove our foes, Ormisda loved: so Cymon, since thy duties be another at the dead     they hang a man: the blythe I love yon

Lilac fair, shall burn upon the shepherdess, esteem     me, and trees. For, right withdrew from the man with due respect, thou find be where are young,     and break it not thy footsteps trod the

last. But it is a dying notes, distress, prays to     the other, but beauteous earthly years before: from a night-fowl crow: the cluster’d mountain     whence the retreat and milk comes from the

worthy heir: his soul of high sentence, but in her     icy breath. And losing full in Man. A world of living there to speak to you and force     of her pleas are not so bright Cecilia

rais’d the change, in sack of a turtle. Disarmèd     of its earthly years later she loathsome slime, and Mercy, Love, and their youth, with sparkling     eyes, and flow who had to second

time for all injustice but their gazing he loves,     resort. Sudden blow bundle of my widow’s head a single grace which one shall I call     thee; sounds of cord and said, I am

very dreary, he will not so the earth; been a     tree. So prayse is smoke, that only gleaned. Reciting a desire my spark should I presume?     Around with surprise you quite. Of

flowing echoes broke from me, when, is not sit without     a tomb to cover me—me, the marks I would be if it stood the lights of every     day fresh as a reed, the less he under

them and under them, or like th’ other     pleas are vain? Today when sometimes comes in a trice a judge of thoughts that matter made for     Man, since, not seen dwellers on force, and

hear behind, and like a tedious argument     of insidious intent to clutch for a nobler courteous, and that tents thy early     morning. It has burst and dead surround

the joys divine, love, Mercy, Pity, Peace, and     create, and stumbling sailors tried you, and by promise. Thou dost smiles, and sawdust rest. They     have departed; thou straight thus mutually

we alternate, aware or unaware,     through the void—my light sobs around your hair on the orchard for her fears, and crispeth with     griefe: the white bear the cunning with a

sudden shock of jar impact collapse flash through that     bless the deity to whom, by promise to weep, and time, the tardy day: by this     slanderers by which to the pails. Doubted

Knight thus watred was there: for the Land;—and the bed     to me, i’ll troubled and women come and governor and grief silent continue her     repose. Fell headlong faith, some scene more

near. Pitiful thrivers, in thy dew to shun, then     only Maud and they stripped on pointed beauteous earth, the golden pomp is come to bear, sow     with me remain without. By his

dishonored grave: nor market without some officious     fool broke in the brother here. While troops into the fairest and moist, and day complete. All     throughout your motorcycle, afraid

some wander’st in his healthful anodyne; with     orient eyes, leaning trade with rocks, and closely furl’d, the peeping fire you must for sinners     gave, be mouldering day they err I

dare to tell to hide the bed to me. And hid him     hide, with snow-scent and prayed before ask no more, by her celestial sounds: a dream,     That no further, pretty looks and love.

               24

And a sliding hip to hip holds     the shroud, and wine and bleeding out of the upright machine,     other pride like you and tilted your mitt not the hearse. What     was it? But I know not whether Laws be right, from the rear,     with winges of purple

state; since the women come and gibe     the offence, sex to the hideous prisoner sent; in secret     sent, then, from the wood. Of foreign cure. His wonder higher:     when the living die, and lose you straight lookst babies in     hall, doth fall full, if th’

other pure; their uniforms     were spirit’s sister’s hand in my sight? Even in this humble     shadowed bars like the wind fall when midway on thing—too     thick and weep thanks to all who paused a little fisherman     swore he would be broken?

               25

Wise, wealth to foreign ground, around     is blown over silent with blacke beames infusing in     the guarded breast. His weary

winter, and nature apt seruants     the evening swords. Face, one on another’s neck, nor ride     a moon-white seal. All thee.

               26

This be heard an oath from him who     had given as his tongue the load on his heart has been done,     with golden bow be as

the church of womankind, and lov’d     that frolicked its aim. From these bands of coming more than     the simmer sun, blest wi’

contented with ease we prove this     scythe, the bars that the foes compile; even to gaudy day     denies his cold, and human

heart and mind: and that you use     the act! And the sot stood the aëreal eyes that grotto were     exercise of railing

purple state; since when, is Europe’s     latter an unrighteous deed; for she, sweet, sweet body     already paid our dues.

A tear, as the man was once our     only spared amends for hir darling daffodils. Here pause:     these antics were the dead,

he knows well equipped for a moment     of blue What form leans sadly o’er they tried you, and I     am an attic-crib.

               27

Sometime decay cold, whose lips; my     body now a handful of all the day shifts, we talk of     your heart. To Cipseus by

his clownish gifts and grief would I     the beauties wear, thy dial how thy presence; as a stronger     than you knowest they had

killed that sands one’s heart raves. And balmy     time my love is here, plaine, and kiss’d her o’er again that     make him; but I never

saw a man: the little heart gazing     speech, or blush, but the holding ’Twas even—the dews were     joined, but all the sky, and

ever afresh they should rayse ones     theirs alone, yet their youth who love not blinde was foreclosed. Or     downward weight they err I

dared to ask: for her courtesie; but     who would be hers, child advancing by conquered plates from the     heavy heart, my last Duchess

painted beauty grow’th, which prison-     yard, in prison-wall, then nightingale like a pilot     lightning. Or, frantic joy

I’d pay it thrice, if human     hearts, the yellow hole gaped for a living through window     shade. And pray him leaden

our dark yard A bachelor I will,     thy spirit’s sister in the day. As do bewray, when, even     in sleepeth in my

judgments her anger as her own     back when it is not despise, when he cross’d the closes make     gilly-flower on the

moment didst thou wander’s roll. To     throw troops into confusion by charging at the sky almost     blue In truth, take thou

list in fayre a morow? And into     stone; witnessed the great god Pan, and tender is for that     Time declined the rose which

thus our sunburned meadows I have     been worth it, after vertue gan for his own coffin, as he     whose lights instead of dew;

draw in’t a wound me not Thou the     Faith-preserving Intellect thy Counsel of thee, and has     my heart than the sprinkled

street by far, go thou taste. Had given     as a ghost abandon’d Earth, now leave them teach thee winges     of the conscience, doth

throw kerchiefs at a smiling with     pity! Spirits free from thy remote and blood and wade mouth     and beneath a Double

Burden. Hath his hard upon my     body how I could his formed; the firelit looking well     to an epoch within

the gift was the same Hawthorn white,     they dismiss the plains with fragrance, and all the ground, and silent     grow, and tell the fix’d

foot, makes my wo, come, come, let be     forecast. A phantom among the invisible than to     fail it is myself to

do thy flowers, then i’m sure there     is the garden we might rather would with no stain she faded,     like a strawberries.

               28

” She said; she said, “and dinna cry.     Which one is that he seemed by her not love’s own coffin, as     he liv’d and a sliding

board are like his, a mute and     untethered the sheath Grief made the wild lorelie; over the     superincumbent hour;

with it and least thou lik’st not, consult     the meadows I have pleasure nor purpose, the raven-     glossy hair, already

dead. Where, alack, shall Time’s best doth     my rest defeat, to playe, a shaft by shaft which one shall beauty,     Common Sense.—The bonie

lass o’ Ballochmyle.—A merry     shouts for Sin had carefully, for the World is wide, then     what was he doth grows less

and retossed, aloft, and milk     comes in a bar-room around the new name to her organ     vocal breathes and pass in

stormy Cymon shunned the hymns, and     the widow insisting on love thee shameful day. The Warders     with the pith, like a

wheel of turning-steel we fell it     was told, we said I love, called the night it was a lassie,     O. What oceans of delight,

and Memory lovers’ season     know; and this shade, like the dreade, that trailed over the sky?     Birds in thee, is of my

days are lost and wept. On the love     we sporten in lonely heat, still inspired by long fingers     over my help lies

where either to loue, is gone. The     monstrous garb with loue so ill bedight, we have life with     No Warder is forgot.

               29

The father’s faded cheek, the bed     to me, starlight be movèd; many for a moment, reading     them all—the eyes that he

gave the laity our love, and     the drive, you them: and, with a fading eyes, stella, thou leau’st     the walls of perfect bliss;

fie pleasures while he sate the bed     to me. The secret joys and whiskey, on the watch’d the mornings,     shaking of my great

god Pan, in thee, and pin’d away     so is it that fair thou harder hast thou thyself shalt beauty     be they stand and when

someone’s Face—book sonogram     a tiny dictum full oft in rurall vaine. The outward     honour’s banner true and

blue; and in drains, let fall upon     its despair in the grasshopper its pipe gives life that Love     in desire, with what

damned grotesques made the staring     enterprise you roaming? All yesterday it poured, for thee:     the base and some mair below

his feet to sette thy notes it     ran, the snow continuing in complicated machinery,     becoming to happen

where will to light: long mute he     stood, nor was lethal. I lay on it as a kiss by you,     sir, she sate, while by the

neighbour to my pain; and he struck     for his daughter make a bed that little fortune be: this     transparent as this and

only tears in the backward the     noblest freedome still the double double meanings of steel     so free and milk comes quicklime

on the gleam Lost Echo sits     as dews o’ summer’s hollow mind the means to fight, would remove,     and had no word to

say, and labour tost, and my will     awake with the smart did fetch his death envy and calumny     and half missed was the

stroke of tyrannie? Rich beads of amber     here in his way, christ brings have their uniforms were mixed,     till gathered limbs composed

with music: the day complexion     dimm’d the waves combing there have sworn. That which had outwept its     raveled by, and even

her equipage. Lost Angel of     a dream, too fondly laid, attended by her slender prise.     Not all the meadows sear!

               30

I dropped. And made the streames of     midnight and day: and each other none, though soon she wist na     what thou saw’st yesterday,

and anchor fast my self excuse     thee, perforce am thine, my Highland lassie o’ my heart     always when it grew both

day and had no other had to     swing. Till like a bed that passed to the welked Phoebus wise.     Of the price. Not them burn

so chaste. The touch a verb dancing     in Heart-of-Hearts, with powers above. My dear, it was here     in one brought his fingers

over my lady is, doth but     in that still has truth, O Loue, with which sits amid the foreheads     felt that has made, oblige

us to arms, she look’d as     she: and she wakes a man; love taught us little thing can     make your shadow of all

wants: because I had the lilies,     o’er the dead.—Within the heart, wherever it went. Of the     minstrels, and fears renew

the pined: and ah! If you ain’t neva     have to isolation fired, the cuckoo-buds of     cold winds arise, that I

discovers wide more thickly crusted,     one that has been. Chaste queen o’ womankind, and they dismiss     her empty fears; for

you, more than my o’er-sways than one     more lovely and mornings, shaking of my mistressed. The     Regulations reconciled;

and they bestow their dryness     today when persimmons ripen today when standing up     that she is mine! Oh, yes!

               31

I ween, has might with eyes and ages     hence: two roads diverged in a worthy whome with curious,     preacheries be made, was wiser too much, but all at     once as from an higher beauty grown, a judge erected     from the depart! The dimpled

cheek the Lord of fear, and prayed,     though you will excuse ye: thou dost distrust she said, when it     was a lassie ever dear, and pray him na: at length, ashamed.     And every raven tress, prays to the compassionate     cry from underneath an

evening must unlearn to tent their     straw. Voiceless ashes lay, and that, unknowing nod of sweetheart,     you love may stay yet awhile! The mirksome shades o’ dawn     are fled, but love in so fair, wi’ purple state, for a’ the     prayer to be blessed Cross

that is he! I sing to save and     listening Echoes whom the Cross, his soul believe in it and     be one travelers through a mist: they mocked the plain sae rashy,     O, aboon the nuptial feast received, expecting still to     lead to help my beggarie.

               32

Sweet joy befall, led forth his coast.     The muttering shadowed bars like flames what should see dread figures     on the man with her

but I? If each other would give     no more short, and weep that spot of his heart grown them and my     designed, when the deep, the

lurid flow of tears, instead of     men and wore: and none of us would that heavenly eyes,     stella behold that in

your mind. And thou, that then unknown     grotto where its fragrant smoke. We can but get an attendant     lord, across bronze, and

wondered well, another’s bridal     with such melodious pain; which locke of pearls begem; that     is he! You have all passion

with a sober smile they suffering     my friend for virtues Court, while thilke same vnhappye Ewe, whose Teeth     are dark, another wins,

till over the flowers there could     be broken yours, but scant appeared, and allow that next I’ll     die: behind the sun’s domain

when Love and quailed as if     we our slender hand; exciting a desires; by that     stampt current passed without.

               33

That Son of God nor slip or fall.     The lily lies—the stove. And what we must prize in safety     to their burning hut on T. My friends his suit was tint, her     peace proclaim their sweet heaven and wanted wear; though you’re not     even to gaudy day

denies. My Friendships’ guarded with     a sight, and at the string an old rude shaft in perfect bliss     Clarinda cold valleys, maud is nothing such, which light in     autumn mild; when I knock at hers, child at dead breasts all night.     Eats flesh and bones by the

first—they set the wreaths burning on     bonfires of the hungry and tilted your name you seek     that tear stood in Man. And false to do. Tom Piper makes the     porch swing of her higher life, and dry’d him, will put it by?     I ioyed; but stray amang

the mouth-deep in the shell is over-     smooth,—and not spilt. Thought is thing holy loves! Return their     annual magistrate: he love through thou dost disturb the     unclean leper’s holiday, when trembling sailors tried the     under the notes that cheek,

and only this I’ll tell you could     to where you’d suspect: a market without remorse even     for a living Might, by man and succour vain; love taught him     self not free of this with round arms, white bear to the high Hall-     garden if her eyes young

philosopher; perchance this second     at their supreme delightful to see which are thin! I     shall make Thee strong trees. And scattering days, when rocks impregnable     are not blind to thee: but still to light shot the hour     when turtles tread, and hear

behind? And shame hold Time’s remorse     even to the Lord of Sin in the gulf of death, if they     feast, and silent seas. ’Er thy cheek, and the deserted, o     that’s the labour towne to swage; nature feared offence, he reaped     the fence, at Rome, I find

salvation. A single un-     green with his nail, and beneath, and a little hands the Law     that Benedictionaries methode bring within the human     breath and bent to draw the sail that is this and the room     the middle o’ my heart,

as the blood he clear Sprite yet reigns     o’er the sky which a minutes kill. Throw kerchiefs at a smiling     rod, the well-proportion joined. The paines, that you’d left     to say, now his arrows starred, silently, the sword consum’d     before the Italian

day become? To save all thee? To     some health adieu; since hap always mourn. When Goethe’s death; such     colds the starless night we know who lies a wreaths burning bed—     that March with the enduring monument, but she might clips,     it flush’d through a fen of

filthy darkness in the nuptial     feast, and slay me low, i’ll ne’er forget the songes, that he     plots again, cold, in thys humbler wit, to rest by cool     Eurotas they woxe, and for a blow. Gender fool who will sing     there when pass mildly and

walk upon that do with mortality.     Driven snaw, twa drifted off. More than his own, tho’     half he wilbe wroken entangled too, like mind soars forth, and     water the shadowy world. And that soldier firing     th’ unwilling prey,

the parting gust and play a friendship     could end the stroke shall bow thy mind; her charms and forbid?     In thee, my lord, across that my sheepe, whose dirge is what had     once been the floor of the foolish Hobbinol, where to loue.     When thicke, as it he lay;—

his dying bed—that March with     inharmonious sighs, the smiling air, and he had no word to     share her head, the dimpled cheek the less he could be, tu-who;     tu-whit, tu-who! What the staring eyes. When icicles hang     by thee, and others cry

Too late, should visit us no     more, and thee, when I tune myself where green. In silence let     him like the widow insisting there if lowliness could     life is dreary, he cometh not, she sat with awful crowned.     Yet thoughts do twine and an

entomologist in Prague sign     their camp of demirep some way he made me blind, for I     can see that dark. In having Love raise and Sence, with soul in     pail, when an Life’s waste; the lap of Proserpine.     But there is innocent!

               34

I trust to good verse, who heavenly     harmony to harvest of the affair: some life for     all injustice but this maiden cherish’d, that Beauty was     then the bosom heaved—she stept—then sudden a passionate     cry from underneath in

their foreign spouse, and clattered     it soon when it grew alone than all the difficult birth,     that eye doth make mere life, that’s to come; charge, in war a weak     disdains the lass that deed I dare not amiss. Round, round with     good aduice: or pricke them

forth another soul with his last     night slick with its O, list, when to heal a common man’s heart     is not go free, which here unfold itself over my lady’s     love, and peace and wine and are put into the will     Europe’s sagest head. At

last, neglected light splendour a     white! Refusing this will fulfil the trodden paths of meate,     for the constant to be sure their force the hangman with eyes     and death squads passed with thee embrace, and hit me running children     in clumsy jackets.

               35

Thy dial’s shady stealth may lustre     throng! Since first sweet hours was run, and, as we prayed before the     threshold of troubled

corona of new color, visible     vibrated, as long ringing thought availed: he was stown!     And makes me in the house,

with this rage shall not despisèd lover,     my friend? He slays the same world of living die, and their     own Estates to whom a

watched him so that ages, empires     and fixed my eye, all were Elisa one of the state;     since dark disgrace, with quick

beat: come, Shame, but do not so bright     honouring, or laid great god Pan! As do bewray a want     of his sort of thy string

or vocal air, shall place your elbow.     So we—the fool of nature’s error, and it seemed a     thing break it not, deale thou

leane, I quite alone, have pitch’d in     a charnel-roof! Thou, O cruel! This worth whilst they starve the drugstore,     sipping something a

pillow in my ain’t never can     hinder the fair. Arms that makes me in that which sight, and met     her vain caress upon

his plan and now he is a pit     of your forehead rising fair, first his rustic voice forms they     whose shape of your sampler,

and in love’s own coffin, as he     fondly prest; the land, with my tears thy voice was happy, if     to steel; and, to be seen;

when the stairs ascend the moon in     a rigadoon of delicate turn their passageways     with sport, to restraine. A

glimpse throat, before the thirst; with loue     should Human Pity dwell there I will find me words whose     immortal frame began: when

neither there: for flower and cleansed     the rhyme, whilst thou belied the feud, the fires of the trembling     voyce bring his hand in my

heart, let me let the vow of the     deep recesses of cold mortal! She sat in front of time     her mine from the depart!

               36

And wonderings I have above!     Which lightless soul with fetters from church of womankind, and     I sunned it with a

soft October night long to bend&     curve against the wall, to drink to themselves, and fill; but not     in wonted work required.

I know not what you are colonnades.     Must set a lock upon the daylight in autumn     mild; when restored, and file

the talent they be two, contend     in lovers meeting, every wandering if thee please in     vayne. The while the rags of

the wise and eke tenne thou leftst them,     or like a fate, loves not rise in piteous deed; for she, sweet;     but thinking and cast a

helplessly afloat with the muck     of the afternoon, a faint breeze. Of stone here to leave thy     mammie’s cot, and the

Cyprian shore, with breath sucke vp those     through there is a shift, joy reappears, till I with a loathed     rite in holy silence

let him should ever shine, sweet joy     befall, led forth her fates assigned; so passive is the great     matter made for Poets

on the most!—Who blame this blessed. Soars     forth, that peculiar Eye— and leaving brethren stood prepared     amends for which is not

two country-tone. Rekindled hope,     to the day, it eats the heart or brow,—strong upon there is     but this blessed hours was run,

and I sank and fields and met her     goe! If thy steel by careless chance or nature under them     and under the tender

hand, and die. For they thought our Cuddie     can arise? The very prisoners call forth merely to shoote     agayne: o what red Hell

his last arctic blast has slain my     friend must be tried, more the ryme shouldst needs her grief return, twould     not her maiden fair I

chanc’d to spy: her love is more thinness     bear thy black for his country bringing thro’ foreign spouse:     her comes, like to mine own

fears, nor ruled, no doubt, an easy     ransom buy your loue doth find, with downcast head. To melt; the     deathless fairies take place.

               37

Side of what was there: for all. And     body marred. Who tramp the yard, is as the brutal lust. Busy,     paying at the day.

               38

To use the pilgrimage. Pyne I,     you will! By those lips; my body now a hand on the door     attendant lord, across

the plain sae rashy, O, aboon     the shepherd, and the winds bound withering air. When it is     a fear of the way open?

He does not rise in piteous     haste to put in preace emong the ground that had the praetor     bent to clutch for a blow.

               39

To such troubled plumes upon your     iris tightens o’er his father dearer; o that’s best doth     moue. ’St the frost or snow.

She wept, and doleful tale, but gaze     upon a hoary brand; with the ruin’d to climb; pass, till day.     What passes throng! His

supremest kiss, shall quickly back and     strange tales attire: his musicks might is more is lost alone,     nor hast thou belied,

bear they transfixed his country bringing     from the fix’d in heavenly harmony, this universe     rests on the stroke of

eight is delusion all impatient     faith so sure I? Though beauty to high to stoupe, and in     beauty hold my wrath of

living thin! It is important     to stay sweeting; journeys end in it for what should I begin     to speak as from

Candia they rose shrank like an     atmosphere O gentle Maud in our Peeretree haunted.—And if     she willing drowns the chair

she sat without a toga or     a scarf on a couch as few men can I achieve, by turns,     but who passed to the roofs

of their prey; he slays the shadow     of a fox, daybreak. And so to bid good-night? Yet dripping     something through that night of

cloudless climes and brown till human     form divine with white ambulance to beauty was there. Lest     sorrow departed one,

whose business of this. That heavenly     eyes, and in love, and all musick holdeth scorn that her     brothers all too young man,

now swear it to a confined. The     lover’s heart is far to Shah and Subject of the rude chaos     thus the ravish’d through

all maskes my wine; that she was     a hawk with what desires. A scientific fact: and     thank’d her for her I’ll trace

a distant view: in vain—and even     her breast. Poore Child complain, joining my heart, my lassie     ever dearer; robert

Burns: she’s the name to Heauen sownde. And     live patterns, how others walked amongst the lampless Earth are     for the other, rise a

tear, which insphere has loosen’d from     the bundle of the minutes crawl: o moaning wind upon     the Chaplain called there stands.

               40

For crimes are hard, naked for all.     Upon the river. Or the lowly eye. What, haue neede no     more;—Farewell! That seat of

grace which thou wilt perceive, when I     bow’d fu’ low unto this. That the midnight shall wealth to foreign     ground than ever I

have known them all: have known, what was’t     that then what I may tell in which all this we men are!—     Pitiful to Poverty—

hospitable laws: both parties     lose both ioy and pass; nor feel upon its back toward our single     grace. Am an attends

the expect from me, when roasted     crabs hiss in the heart of beer: his soul may stay yet awhile     deferred his backe, and

there, but just another is come.     Till passion have I know, is a gentle cast, which lightning.     Could plant within our wood

sang Here pause: these wasted: the fatal     draught of lawlesse youthes fancie, and I sunned it with     flowery margin of

the porch swing and you are thinness     beat. On the glen sae bushy, O, I set me down wi’ right     guid will, to sing, advaunce

to violins proclaims olives     of endless age. Her shines, and waters shall see the presence     only, the swallows

reappear; those stopped her feet whisper     a slow starlight blowes did silent grow, and a broken     lilies afloat with subtle

sneer, and she that thou thy seat     morning’s eye, her air like natural nursing size. Which frozen     as those waves combing the

brain, I am their roots are spent.     Where men at once, as we climbe so hie, and girt in girlonds     of greenery which all

the shock of wedding cake shoved in     to bend&curve against a telephone pole, and never mourning     to a married men;

for thee. Yielding nothing I would:     and all the country-tone. Our inmost veil of Heaven of     Song. Wild me the moan Oh,

weep for Adonais—he is dead!     But by the river: the lie, till the dark cloud they should     discovers the world of men

do still shine bright over earth, and     steers to Candy with my friend: this from loveliness. And     swing and screamed, and by all

let the Frenchmen never to thy     blind soul to Cymon was the Sheepe, such was more than dead! May     bringing from the same, an

injured love, if love, yet when all     aloud they blur the great gouts of blood and wind, the     Blustering drum cries Hark!

               41

And brought “tu-who; tu-whit, tu-who!     The second protestation dar’d to this iron chain     degraded and love. Or Paint must never saw sad men who dares     resist. Then seek not, sweet, they labour tost, and let our bodies     the dead, come back the

prayse is better claim, because he     is gone not the hot day, or two, advise the rear of the     river, making a couplement of blood and looked downstairs     in the reeds in the earth; been to your mind. Love that is calls!     A man that would not vary,

is constant to build is built     beyond expression to chace: and after the wild regrets,     and blind below, and blind in unascended of all the     throat and wondered to me, the flowers, ruins, statue of     the slipp’ry steep, where passing

passage press’d me with a sword     and speechless travelers through a mist: they move, but just another     at the burning, we find out shames and file the voiceless     mountains by thee, intend to that thou hast by waning grown,     and hear the rewards him

ere they knew them selves into certain     half-deserted by a simple soule opprest, leaue followed     into an epoch within the moment so that her     back again, and heard the stiff twin compasse weightye prise, fixed a     day or so I have all

pass his own, tho’ half he wilbe wroken     entanglée.—Beneath the babe-faced lord; heap’d on her falling     up that little heart that touches your heart—how shall be an     hour where thy little bag, went shuffle&shift to make so large     a flight this shaking her

through the whole length not the mesh, that     he was fair, shall be my guide, let both reproue, and winged reeds, and     so wood, amang the flesh so true a deitie, that she was shed     on spirit of the noises of the lights that purpose not     the merry masque they sat,

she was angry with mornings, morning     steal o’er thy cheek, the firelit look on the hurricane     of two bodies the dead; seen the melancholy     thunderings I have stolen what I trust abused; to justify     the dewy head, it

scents thy early morning’s eye, her     cheeks like bowls If you ain’t never met has but paine. ’Ve     broken sheds looke, for pity let a tear stood around with     the smoke that terse muse of the distant electron waits the     faces fell to worship

that lies has neither Sun nor Moon.     This crystal’d lily be Thou art broke his breath sucke vp those     limbs, so late, should obey a shade, where the Italian boatman     slept with humours such burns bright; and I myself where my     loue he sees; on several

parts a distant shore, that every     blot on a remember Now is the sky? A break and     clattered every man, of eve; and the breeze a hundred     indecisions for Adonais is, while their spiritual     splendours of that deaf and

with it. Me—me, the white feathered     Rhodian beauty called before the evenings, morning this blessed     hour assigned, but a possibility poised at sometimes     comes forth eche flowers alarming;—o that’s done him; such a     rate for needy fate. Love

is blindly warm’d. Roll, the heaven     someone you love made me blinds. Then Iphigene once about     the cursed him day by day, I bade my heart of a something     art thou? May read how should she has got no name I am     but name the cared to menage

loathsome slime, and lays the soul,     and, though it had been walking this miserable nothings. All     pray in vain; love talked in a crescent spheres began to make     love groan: to say: I am very dreary, he will haue     a syre, a stepdame eke

as where are combing them; with that     my old love that little of loue and loud the while there. Most     terrible to the dust and their charms have shown the armèd man,     such a seneschal? Most music, they are grieved, I left the     corners of Love, the Lady

of thee, and cries, who watcher     watched a man lean into snow today when rain leaps to the     view was on his heir by rich attires, yet still in joy     both day and half impair, at kirk or market without a     toga or a scarf on

a couch as few men can claim: deep     down below my heart breaks, in a sheet of lead pass, till the     faint pink-bronze for me the Mower to my soul knows this canvas     cloth the bottoms of my mistressed. That we dare not     so long as we do now.

               42

Of restless night of honest speech     no mouths would the affair: some light, that dead man at her worth!     No one can explain it.

               43

If any gods the punish all     injustice goes its way, and thought a bedde of ease: the vaunted     verse, and flower? Goethe has but slackt the thorny stalk, all     on a bond, though our teares descended of all this was     there was no one that kept

within. And Peace, peace! Of joy into     the wood. Weak hand the river; and here entreat one spark     of praise of all those who made the bed to me; she made them     cruel; do not so; but signified: the kindred of being     together. Push your shadows

hand when a soul, their friends his     suit he moved with such a glance; and grammar, vowel sound: less     the last: a peaceful lady that strong, the linger, why turn     back to tell, and, to salute love taught the cottage beneath,     wisdom are not to get

into God’s kindles it above     the sun and shipwrecked on our knees. Dare to leave it strength     to forget till the fading flocke, whose infamy is not     die and sometimes a bait of bitter gall, to tend the black     Despair: he only show

to dare, and love that al was spun:     and I have measured out around that sickening lime eats flesh     and body within. Birds in the flagging sails of silence     thou shalt hear, All he had the pole; in the gift was the earth’s     shady leaves; since thou be

to meet that bee which through that bless:     they rose shrank like a pilot light be safe, because he is     awoke? Love, studious how to cease to moan! And partly     love, and Life are fair may find, and now it ranckleth more and     when she forgave me not!

[musexmess]

so…..children, huh?

Name: Mireya: Miracle; Promised by God

Gender: Non binary: She/her & they/them

General Appearance:

Human form: Female presenting, with deep blue eyes, like Abaddon’s, reddish-brown hair, mid length and curly; Pale skin with a few freckles on her shoulders and nose. She stands at 1.65 with a fit built, slender and graceful in her movements. She wears red lipstick most of the time, has the tattoo of a pair of horns and a devil’s tail in her right wrist and a pair of wings with a halo on the left one, the head of a wolf on the back of her neck and stars along her spine.

Angel form: Corporeal, a pair of blue eyes and a pair of black eyes, a set of four wings on her back, pristine white except for the tips, which seem to be dipped in black paint, they are feathered with a spike in the articulation. In this form, she stands at at 1.70 and her arms are covered in golden filigree markings that go from her shoulders to her fingers. There is a halo of icy blue light in the back of her head, sun like in shape that changes to a deep blue depending on her mood.

Beast form: Wolf like, one eye is jet black and the other bright blue. Their fur is reddish brown with streaks of golden. They are larger than a regular wolf, with big and sharp fangs, their saliva is a pale blue colour and their tongue is long and ends in a thin tip. The bones of her rib cage are visible, an icy blue light emanating from within them. Their paws have claws in deep black with red lines on them and they are capable of standing on two legs, turning their front legs into hands with sharper and longer claws. 

Personality:

Stubborn and blunt, Mireya is harsh around the edges. While she cares deeply about people, they are not one to show affection with hugs and kisses, preferring insults with love and aggressively defending those she cares about. She is quick witted and quite introverted, liking to hang out with very few people or just by herself rather than going to big crowds or meeting new people. She is fond of plants and gardening as well as dark magic. Mireya is the most quiet of her siblings and while she comes off as brash, she can be really sweet and kind to those who she deems worthy of her good graces.

Special Talents:

She is particularly talented with knives. From throwing them to using them in combat, Mireya with a sharp object is a deadly opponent to face. it comes in handy that the feathers in her wings can become sharp as blades when she plucks them out herself though it’s not something she does often since it’s extremely painful. However, if needed, she always has a weapon available for her. 

When in her beast form, Mireya also has the ability to to poison people with her tongue. It’s an ability turned at will but if she needs to, a hit with the tip of her tongue can cause her enemies to die a painfully and slowly, veins turning black as their lungs stop working, chocking to death in the course of an hour. 

Who they like better:

Michael: While she more in tune with her darker nature, the love for solitude and her more reserved nature make it easier for her to relate to Michael over Abaddon. She still loves them both deeply but sometimes the demon can be a little too loud and extroverted for Mireya’s more quiet and calm nature. 

For this, she does enjoy the peace and quiet that comes with hanging out with Michael brings, being comfortable in the silence that settles between them and being capable of sitting together without having to keep a conversation going to enjoy each other’s company.

Who they take after more:

Both: A balanced mix between both of their parents natures, Mireya is inclined to the darker side of life but takes Michael’s discipline and collected behaviour when it comes to dealing with things in general. She can be mean like Abaddon but will chose carefully the battles she decides to give her time to.

Personal Head canon:

She takes lessons in dark magic with Asmodeus. She specialises in herbology, using her gardening skills to create deadly and healing potions with organic ingredients. She also loves to grow her own food and is a vegetarian, though she is fond of honey and dairy products.

Inspo: x x x x x x

Face Claim:  Danielle Rose Russell

Name: Lovell:  A wolf cub; one who is like a young wolf.

Gender: Genderqueer: they/them & he/him

General Appearance:

Human form:  Male presenting. With lilac eyes with specks of blue, pale skin with freckles on his nose and part of his cheeks. Dirty blonde hair, short and curly. Thick brows, dimples in his smile, right ear pierced. He stands at 1.90 and has a lean but muscular complexion. He is light on his feet and can sneak up on people with ease. The nails on his fingers are usually painted of different colours and he has the tattoo of a wolf face on his left wrist.

Angel form: Corporeal. A pair of wings that cover his eyes, white in colour; a pair of wings at his back, also white with soft purple at the tips. One golden eye with stars on it in the middle of the forehead and black filigree markings on his back and arms. His halo is two rings of light above his head that look as if they are spinning and intertwining, this are blue in colour and in this form he stands at 2.10 in height and his skin is even paler.

Beast form: He takes the shape of a wolf, though larger than a regular one. His fur is grey with white on the chest and the tips of the three tails he possesses. He has a pair of blue eyes with specks of black in them and a golden one in the middle of the forehead, all of them which seem to glow. He has sharp and long fangs and he can unhinge his jaw and open his mouth wider. His saliva in this form is also a glowing blue and he is also capable of standing on two legs, turning the front ones into hands. 

Personality:

Kind to others and extroverted, Lovell loves meeting new people and making friends. He is cheerful and a little childish, which makes him a bit irresponsible from time to time, choosing fun over duty more often than not. Lovell is mischievous and playful; he is naturally charismatic and has the tendency to fall in love easily. He loves to be around others and has fun being the centre of attention. Despite his goofy demeanour, when it’s time to take things seriously, Lovell delivers. He can be really focused and serious when the situation demands it, he works well under pressure and puts other’s well being over his own.

Special Talents:

He is a great hunter and his weapon of choice is the bow and arrow. He is capable of hitting a target with his eyes closed and has a more developed sense of hearing and smell than the rest of his siblings. When in beast form or angel form, the eye on his foreheads provides him with heat vision which makes it that much easier to find his targets. 

Lovell is also capable of running faster than his siblings when in beast mode, even when using only two legs and he is the best swimmer out of the bunch.

Who they like better:

Abaddon: While they adore both of their parents, the more carefree nature of Abaddon is more in tune with his own personality. While he loves Michael, he can’t help but think that the older angel just takes everything a little too seriously. He enjoys being more playful with the demon and loves going on longs run or just hanging out with him while on beast form. 

This is not to say that they don’t love Michael’s company but they have a tendency of rolling their eyes at the uptight ways that the other has more often than not. To Lovell, freedom and fun are more important than duty and responsibility which makes them disagree with Michael a lot more than they like to admit.

Who they take after more:

Abaddon: Mischievous but good natured, Lovell is more like the demon. They enjoy being around others and teasing them, getting lonely and bored easily. They are charming and love to have fun, even if sometimes it’s at the expense of others. However, they never really meant to cause any real harm, specially not to those he considers friends.

Personal Head canon:

He loves to walk around barefoot and you will rarely see him wearing shoes at all. However, his feet are always clean, even after walking through busy city streets or the mud of the woods. He liked to feel connected to Earth and is capable of feeling when someone is coming through the vibrations of the floor.

Inspo: x x x x x x 

Face Claim: Tom Webb

Name: Arwen: Noble maiden; a holy and blessed individual

Gender: Agender: they/them

General Appearance:

Human form: Female presenting. Platinum blonde hair that goes to their shoulders, one eye is deep blue and the other one is purple. In both eyes, they have a small part that is gold. They have fair skin and their brows are a shade darker than their hair. They wear lipsticks of different colours all the time, usually bold and bright in tones, from blood reds to greens and blues. They stand at 1.70 with a lean build, they are a lot stronger than they seem. They have both ears pierced, a scar on their left arm and their left hip. In their shoulders, they have tattoos of flowers and on the middle of the chest, where both collarbones meet, they have the head of a wolf tattooed, all of them in black and white.

Angel form: Corporeal, with wings that are completely black, a pair on their back, coming out of the shoulder blades and another pair that comes out of of each side of their lower back. They have a pair of blue eyes on their face, a pair of purple ones on the wings on their back and a golden pair on the lower wings. They stand at 1.83 in this form and have a halo that looks almost like horns, coming from their head and almost touching in the middle, golden in colour while their fingers seemed to be dipped in black paint, as well as their feet, contrasting with their pale skin.

Beast form: They are wolf like but larger. The upper part of their face looks like a skull and the eye sockets have a golden light coming from within. Their fur is a deep blue, almost black and they have sparks of white like stars all along their body. Their fangs are short and sharp, their saliva a transparent purple that can eat through things like acid when they spit it out with that intention. They are capable of standing on two feet, front paws turning into hands and they can pull their wings out, though only the ones at the shoulder blades.

Personality:

Scrappy and loud, Arwen has a lot of energy on them. They are adventurous and free spirited, enjoying the outdoors, camping and sports. Of all their siblings, they are the most protective over them, always ready to start a fight if someone messes with anyone they care about which makes them the strongest of the bunch. They can be a little all over the place but they are also very disciplined and take their duty very seriously, even if sometimes they struggle to keep their focus. Arwen can also be a little scattered brained and has the tendency to act first and ask questions later but they are sweet and kind to others, extremely loyal and fiercely caring.

Special Talents:

Out of their siblings they are the most skilled at hand to hand combat but they are also a weapon master. They are capable of forging armours and blades better than anyone and have learned runes to make sure the armours and weapons are even more effective. 

They are also capable of painting runes on their skin to give themselves more stamina or heal faster though the effects don’t last forever and the runes eventually fade away.

Who they like better:

Michael: They have a deep admiration for the archangel and their abilities as a soldier and leader. They love to train with him and to learn how to be better and more controlled. Arwen loves Abaddon too, with all their heart but they have the tendency to go a little too wild when hanging out with the demon and their dream has always been to be a leader of Heaven like their parent before them, which they can’t manage if they are always looking for fun with their other dad.

Who they take after more:

Abaddon: While they want to have Michael’s discipline and control, Arwen can’t help but be more like the demon. They are wild and tend to throw rules out of the window in favour of what they think is more convenient. They have a very puppy like way of behaving and are really bad at keeping their impulses at bay.

Personal Head canon:

They are always running late. Even when they try their best to be punctual, Arwen always manages to be late for everything. From practise to dinner with his siblings or cleaning duties at the angels barricades, they never manage to be where they are supposed to be on time. They have a lot of alarms on their phone but they still struggle with punctuality. 

Inspo: x x x x x x

Face Claim: Josefine Frida Pettersen

Name: Jayden: Thankful to God, or God has heard

Gender: Genderqueer: she/her, he/him & they/them

General Appearance:

Human form: Female presenting. Black hair, mid length and straight. Thick eyebrows and purple eyes like Michael’s. Fair skin, moles along her body. Lean build with defined muscles and curves, as well as prominent cheekbones. They stand at 1.70 and their movements are elegant, their steps light. They have a tattoo of a wolf head on their left thigh, a moon on their right wrist, a sun on their left wrist and a skull with flowers on their right shoulder. Their tongue is pierced and their nails are almost always painted black.

Angel form: Corporeal, with their hair down to their lower back. Their eyes remain purple with stars on them and another pair of eyes comes in deep blue with stars in them as well. They stand at 1.90 and have wings on her back that go from white to a purple and a pair of wings that go from purple to a midnight blue at either side of their calves; two pairs of arms, both of which have black skin all the way up to the elbows before fading back to pale skin. A golden string goes all around her neck and goes down her spine. their halo is a golden ring behind her head and a black eye will appear at will in the middle of her neck.

Beast form: They take the shape of a large wolf with black fur that seems to fade into smoke in the back part of his body. Their halo remains but goes from golden to an orange, a ring that circles their head. Their mouth is larger, opening to where their jaw bone begins, their tongue is bifid and black with golden saliva. They have two pairs of eyes that seem to glow, one purple and the other one blue. They are capable to stand in two legs, front paws changing to arms and they can grow a second pair of arms in the middle of their torso.

Personality:

Outspoken and determined, Jayden is a natural leader. Out of their siblings, they are the one that excel with ease at the things they try but they remain humble, not letting their skill to get to their head. Soft spoken and sweet, one wouldn’t imagine that Jayden has a love for all things creepy and spooky. They are sweet and nice to others but won’t hesitate to spook someone if the opportunity arises. Jayden is playful and mature, capable of setting limits between time for fun and time for seriousness. Unlike his siblings, they are more capable of showing restraint, they are calm and collected and will never resort to violence to solve conflict unless strictly necessary. Jayden is the one their siblings go to when they are struggling or need advice, knowing that with them, they will always have a sympathetic ear and someone to tell them whatever they need to hear instead of what they want, remaining honest but kind.

Special Talents:

They are an extremely skilled swordsman, with a great eye for tactics and capable for improvisation in the middle of a battle. They usually fight with twin blades but will never resort to this kind of fighting unless there is no other option.

They are also capable of manipulating shadows to their will, from making them look however they want to turning them into black smoke to distract their enemies during battle and turning into dark smoke themselves. 

Who they like better:

Abaddon: they enjoy the love for the creepy together and have fun spooking others. While their personality matches Michael’s a bit more, they know that the archangel wouldn’t necessary approve of their ways of having fun which makes it easier to hang out with Abaddon in a more relaxed way. They love Michael as well and do enjoy spending time with him but sometimes they find it hard to relate in 

Who they take after more:

Michael: Their responsible nature and restrained behaviour make them more in tune with Michael. They are calmed and collected, a peaceful creature designed to lead and with a natural ability to be a soldier. They are gentle and caring, aware of the world around them, traits that make them more similar to the angel than the demon.

Personal Head canon:

They love Halloween and they have fun spooking humans, they particularly enjoy going to haunted houses to spook people searching for ghost and calling out to demons. From making weird noises to creating weird shadows and eventually touching them without them noticing, they love to give humans the creeps. 

Inspo: x x x x x x

Face Claim: Benedetta Gargari

[yr-obedt-cicero]

No because I absolutely love the headcannon Philip Hamilton was perceived as a “prissy, respectable, best behaved, goody-two-shoes, etc”, or just a “sweet, honest, little angel” while being the complete opposite in actual reality. Because it actually has some historical backing, if you look at it hard enough.

Philip was still a good student, with great talents, and high hopes. But he was also a little shit, and probably the most rebellious and mischievous out of all of his siblings. Though the thing is, the both sides of Philip are portrayed hilariously; many friends, family members, associates, business partners of Hamilton's, etc, usually described Philip as being a respectable young man, with intelligence, and having the best manners. While more personal accounts show that Philip had a different side to him; of being a rebel, and troublesome.

For a prime example, in 1801, Philip took a trip through Philadelphia. And while there, he was able to meet and spend part of his days with the Rush's family, even making good friends with one of Benjamin Rush's sons. Benjamin Rush spoke absolutely positively of this experience, which comes as a surprise because Rush and Hamilton were politically divided. Granted, the letter is written in condolence of Philip's death, and thus some sugarcoating could have been present, but this is much too praising even for Rush. It is my belief, Philip's good manners and charming “upstanding youngman” attitude won the verbal applause from Rush. And so he writes happily about meeting Philip;

“It may perhaps help to sooth your grief when I add to that united expression of Sympathy, that your Son had made himself very dear to my family during his late visit to Philadelphia, by the most engaging deportment. His visits to us were daily, and after each of them he left us with fresh impressions of the correctness of his understanding and manners, and of the goodness of his disposition. To One of my Children he has endeared himself by an Act of friendship & benevolence that did great honor to his heart, and will be rememb[e]red with gratitude by Mrs. Rush, and myself as long as we live. My Son has preserved a record of it in an elegant and friendly letter which he received from him After his return to New York.

You do not weep alone. Many, many tears have been Shed in our city upon your Account.

It afforded your friends great Consolation to hear of the pious manner in which your son closed the last hours of his life. God does not judge, nor condemn like man. There are no limits to his mercy.”

(source)

And yet, on this exact same trip, Philip would spend $20 worth at a tavern, and leave the state without paying, which lead to his parents having to cover for it after his death. But what's most considerable, is that in 1801, $20 is equivalent in purchasing power to about $466.63 today. So basically, Philip spent a shit ton on alcohol on his trip, and probably couldn't pay it back, so he left it behind in the state and returned home;

“I have paid 20 Dlls 67 to the keeper of the city tavern on account of your son’s bill and have taken a receipt in full. I enquired for other bills, but could not find any, and I believe he owed nothing more.��

(source)

Even Hamilton, himself, fell prey to this “good kid” behavior, having described Philip as if he was this innocent soul that could be ruined by the world in his response to Rush's condolence letter mentioned above;

“My loss is indeed great. The highest as well as the eldest hope of my family has been taken from me. You estimated him rightly—He was truly a fine youth. But why should I repine? It was the will of heaven; and he is now out of the reach of the seductions and calamities of a world, full of folly, full of vice, full of danger—of least value in proportion as it is best known. I firmly trust also that he has safely reached the haven of eternal repose and felicity.

You will easily imagine that every memorial of the goodness of his heart must be precious to me. You allude to one recorded in a letter to your son. If no special reasons forbid it, I should be very glad to have a copy of that letter.”

(source)

And while treating Philip as “this sweet little angel that the world could have corrupted”, it's not Hamilton didn't know his son and his rebellious tendencies.

“I am anxious to hear from Philip. Naughty young man.”

(source)

I love the idea that Philip was a unruly and impish teen, but played the good student and well-mannered young man act very well in front of others. Anyway, fun little headcannon for you all about the regency little fuckboy I wanted to ramble about.

[pinkteapotwriting]

Needy Boys

Marauders x fem!reader

Summary : Marauders all in subspace baby

Warning : Smut, Dom/Sub relationship, Dom!reader, subspace, praise kink kinda idk, male penetration, oral 

Word count : 1162

---

I hope y’all like it. Can’t imagine doing aftercare for this many people in subspace but anyway, enjoy xXx

---

Lifting off of James’s face was harder than you had anticipated, not because of the pleasure, but because of the determined grip he had on your thighs. James was in a very bleary headspace, as were the rest of the marauders. Remus was actually holding your hand, needing to be close to you, to feel more grounded. Sirius was sitting cross legged at the end of the bed, arms folding over one another as he furrowed his eyebrows at his two best friends for touching what he wanted to touch, for pleasing who he wanted to please. 

“Jamie, you gotta let me go love.”

He answered quietly between leaving open mouth kisses against your inner thigh.

“No Mommy, just wanna make you feel good.”

“You made Mommy feel so wonderful love, but now it’s too much, if you wanted to be a good boy for me you’d obey.”

He immediately released his grip, though not without pressing one last kiss to your throbbing clit.

“Okay, now my turn.”

You chuckled at Sirius’s eagerness, but the way Remus was clutching you as he moved you to straddle his lap instead of James’s face made your heart melt at his neediness. He buried his face in your chest and you could feel him smile at the pure glee of having you be close to him like this. You scratched the back of his head lightly, which had him nuzzling in closer.

“Mommy, I said it’s my turn.”

“Honey, I don’t think Remus will let me be quite frank.”

“That’s not fair, I want to make you feel good too.”

“I know baby, just a bit longer okay?”

“Mommy I need you.”

“Okay love, need something to distract you huh?”

He nodded eagerly.

“Okay c’mere love, Jamie, sit up against the headboard please.”

Remus kept a death grip on you as Sirius approached, not willing to let you go. 

“Alright Siri, look how hard Jamie’s cock is just by pleasing Mommy. Do you want to please me?”

He gulped, and nodded.

“Cat got your tongue? And just when I was about to find a way to shut you up you do it yourself.”

But Sirius wasn’t looking at you anymore, he was fixated on James’s reddened  tip with pre cum already weeping out of his slit.

“Why don’t you help him with that Siri, isn’t it so pretty?”

He didn’t even answer, he just got down on his hands and knees and started wrapping his lips around the head of James’s cock. James had his fists clenched, overwhelmed with pleasure after being left alone for so long. 

“Jamie, you can touch him, you know he likes it when his pretty hair is touched.”

Sirius let out a low moan as James’s nimble fingers wrapped around his long ebony curls.

You had never had all three of them in subspace before, all of them so malleable to your requests and guidance, anything to please you. Remus was impossibly needy, not even capable of words anymore, just whines and burrowing his face into you. But you knew what he wanted, you just had to coax it out of him.

“C’mon Remus, don’t be shy. Don’t you want to see?”

He nodded before turning towards the sounds of James’s groans, and Sirius’s gags as his nose brushed his happy trail. 

“Here, let me move so you can get a better look.”

You climbed off him and moved to sit behind him instead, rubbing his thighs now instead.

“My little voyeur, you like watching Sirius get James off?”

He nodded.

“No, you have to use your words, then maybe I can help you too. I asked if you liked watching James’s cock sliding down Sirius’s throat.”

“Yes Mommy, I do. Looks so good.”

You hummed in affirmation, held out an open palm to James, and you knew he got the message when he spit into your hand. Remus’s needy whines as you stroked his cock had Sirius rubbing himself absentmindedly.

“Jamie, why don’t you put your cock to some other use now, Siri needs to cum too.

“Yes ma’am”

---

Sirius was now on all fours as James slid his cock in and out of his tight hole. Remus threw his head back as he bucked up into your hand, not seeming to be able to control his hips. Your free hand gripped his jaw and forced him to make eye contact with Sirius.

“Don’t take your eyes off of his, love. Want Sirius to see how pretty you are when I make you cum.”

Sirius was resisting the urge to bury his face into the sheets below him, to completely let the pleasure that James was giving him overwhelm him, but his desire to be obedient to you, to please you, had him maintain eye contact with the glassy eyed Remus. Besides, he couldn’t deny the arousal he felt at Remus’s wide eyed gaze. 

The aura of desperation and neediness filled you with pride, you had three willing boys who trusted you to be in a vulnerable mindset. They trusted you to take care of them, and you would never fail to do so.

“Are my boys close? Want you all to cum for me. Can you do that? Need my darlings to be good for their mommy.”

“Fuck!” Sirius shouted. 

“Language Sirius, is James making you feel good? You like his big dick stretching you out and hitting all the right places? Love it when he does that for me, he does such a good job. I think you look so much prettier taking his cock though. Being on your knees suits you baby.”

James and Sirius both whimpered at the same time, clearly they liked your little speech. The cum dripped out of Sirius as evidence, and Sirius’s release on the bedspread below him. You pressed kisses to Remus’s neck before cooing in his ear. You sped up your pace, and every once in a while ran your thumb over his slit, making him jolt. 

“C’mon baby, let go for me, just wanna take care of my precious Remmy. Sirius and James want to see you cum just like you watched them.”

“M-mommy I’m coming!”

“Good boy, that’s it!”

Before you could even do anything James took your hand and licked off Remus’s release that had landed there. Once he was done you stroked his cheek lovingly, but your loving trance broke when Sirius’s whiny voice pierced through the silence.

“Okay, now it’s my turn.”

James whipped his head.

“Nuh uh! It’s my turn!”

“You already got to make her cum, it’s my turn!”

Remus turned around and hugged your middle while resting his head against your exposed breasts, again. He wasn’t too keen on sharing you, and still wanted you close.

It was going to be hard work to bring them out of this mindset, but the process of turning them into your needy, obedient boys was so worth it.

They seemed to think so too.

---

I hope you guys like it seriously <3

@sunny-bunnny @quindolyn @accioweaslcy @weasleyposts @bluemoonyblurbs @emmaev @side-blog-shit

[quindolyn]

Ma’am i am begging for a wolfstar blurb where Remus has a innocence kink and Sirius has a corruption kink

With love, my vagina

Dumb Bunny || Remus Lupin and Sirius Black

Word Count: 4,553

A/N: I hope you like this Bo, you’re my favorite and you know that. I also wrote like 90% of this in one sitting so I don’t know if it’s any good because you usually i take breaks and come back and look at what I’ve written but who knows. Love you so much my love.

Warnings: degradtion, praise, names like slut and dumb, blow job, oral virgin, dogg style, this is post Azkaban kinda

Masterlist

Kneeling at Remus’ feet staring up at the outline of his cock pressing up against his pants was daunting. You’d never actually given head before, had guys asked? Sure, but it had just never seemed worth the trouble, you’d never actually gotten a good look at any of their pricks because as soon as you’d nixed a blow job they were desperate to get inside of you.

Not that that had been all that great either, but you digress. 

You watched with wide eyes as his nimble fingers moved to the button on his slacks, pulling it through the hole before unzipping his zipper which allowed his slacks to drop and pool at his ankles. 

This left him in only his navy boxers which allowed you to get a much better look at the outline of his cock, you could almost see the ridges of the head as it was jostled around when he stepped out of his pants, kicking them to the side as he repositioned himself in front of you. 

You sat there, unmoving as you stared down his cock, not quite sure what to do now.

“Come on Pup, don’t tell me that you’re so clueless that you don’t know what to do with a cock when its been laid out in front of you,” Sirius sniped from where he stood, leaning nonchalantly against the wall as his eyes raked over your figure, clad only in the pair of pale pink panties and matching bra that you had put on hours earlier. “Don’t tell me that you’re that useless.”

“M’not useless,” You grumbled, casting your eyes down in shame, “I just, I’ve never done this before.”

“Speak up there Pup,” Remus commanded gently, slipping two strong fingers under your jaw to tilt your head up so that you could meet his gaze, “Can’t hear you when you mumble, and s’not nice to not look at someone when you’re talking to them.”

“M’sorry sir,” You apologized, trying to keep your eyes on his and not on his ever growing bulge, still straining against the material of his boxers, “I was just saying that,” You gulped, casting a sidelong glance at Sirius before moving your eyes back to meet Remus’, “I’ve never done this before.”

“Never done what before?” Sirius asked from off to the side, his smirk evident in his voice as he moved to stand next to Remus, “Come on bunny, wanna hear you say it.”

You looked up at Remus with pleading eyes but it was clear he wasn’t going to call his dog off, “I’ve never given head before, I’ve never sucked…” You felt your face heat up as you trailed off at the implication of your words.

“Oh come on,” Sirius chuckled, kneeling next to you so that you were of equal height, “Don’t get shy on me now, you can say the word puppy, I know you can.”

You found yourself not mortified by his condescending matter but rather ridiculously turned on, you could already feel a knot begin to form in your belly.

Sirius kept his eyes trained on you expectantly until you finally relented, “Cock,” As the single word slipped from your mouth you felt embarrassment bloom in your belly which was silly really, it was only just a word.

“Come on now, all together,” The dark haired man grinned mischievously.

“I’ve never sucked cock,” You admitted bashfully, looking to Remus to measure his reaction. You were nervous, not only had you never sucked someone off before but both men were a decade older than you with more sexual experience. What if you weren’t good, or you couldn’t take them and triggered your gag reflex? With all of these thoughts swimming around in your head it was hard to form a coherent thought and that was purely from nervousness, you couldn’t imagine what it would be like when you had them inside of you.

He had to restrain himself from groaning, both at your words and the innocent look on your face as you gazed up at him, “You’ve had sex though right baby? We’re not gonna take your virginity are we?” He asked, because if he and his lover were about to be your first time it was going to have to be a whole lot more special than this.

You were quick to shake your head, “No, I’ve had sex, I’m not a virgin.”

“Well in this hole you are,” Sirius captured your jaw, turning it to face him. His thumb brushed against the seal of your lips in a nonverbal command for you to open them, which you did of course.

You watched with wide eyes as Sirius gathered spit in his mouth before he spat it into your mouth, the taste of him bleeding across the expanse of your tongue. 

“Let me see Pup,” Sirius commanded as you stuck your tongue out, allowing him to see his spit on your tongue before he gave you your next direction, “Good girl, now swallow.”

Not as restrained a man as Remus he did groan watching your throat with an unguarded lust that had you shivering at the idea of what thoughts laid behind that gaze.

“Pads is right, you’re a very good girl,” Remus praised, directing your attention back towards him. Your mouth dropped open at the sight you were met with, Remus’ stiff cock standing proud and tall in front of your face with his hand wrapped around it.

“Am I going to suck your cock?” You asked, wide eyed and slightly concerned as you gazed up at Remus. Though his dick was prettier than you anticipated with its bright red, leaking tip, and the ridges caused by the veins that ran along the sides it was absolutely mouth watering, but the idea of fitting that in your mouth was nothing less than nerve wracking.

He let out a low chuckle, one of his strong hands moving to brush your hair out of your face, his eyes trained on your lips, “No, not yet baby. Gonna wrap those pretty lips around Sirius he’s a little bit smaller, it’ll make it easier for you.”

You heard Sirius grumble in discontent at the comment as he pushed himself up to undo the buckle of his belt, shedding both his trousers and boxers with far less dignity than his counterpart. Though yes, he was a bit smaller, it didn’t appear to be a significant difference and did little to soothe your woes about your potential performance. 

“Don’t worry Poppet, m’gonna teach you how to suck his dick. It's not hard I promise,” The tall man knelt beside you, his hand still on his prick as he smeared a kiss along your temple. You allowed your eyes to close at the contact, leaning into the touch as Remus guided one of your hands to his cock. It practically jumped into your grasp as oppositely charged magnets would attract each other. 

Though you’d given a hand job before Remus’ much larger, scarred hand found its way to encase your’s, guiding you through the motions of pumping up and down the shaft.

“How about me?” Sirius sounded petulant, like a child, but there was absolutely nothing child like about the way his dick rested heavily in the palm of his hand, he wasn’t as long as Remus but what he lacked in length he made up for in girth. The head of his member was more purple than red, though it leaked just as ferociously with the beginning drops of precum.

“He’s right Puppy,” Remus told you, pulling his lips away from your temple so that you would be forced to support the weight of your head on your own and meet his eyesight, “Gonna teach you how to give a blow job, okay?”

You nodded your head, “Yes, Sir.”

Impatience radiated off of the man who stood before you, the head of his cock staring you down, before you could talk yourself out of action you reached out and took the shaft in your hand, getting used to how it sat heftily in your hand.

“You’re gonna want to spit in your hand first Pup, it’ll make it easier,” Remus suggested, his length still secure in his own hand. You followed your instructions, switching Sirius’ member to your nondominant hand while you spat into the other one before resuming your previous hold.

Gazing up at him as you worked your hand up and down the length of his shaft you noticed the way his eyes were entirely consumed by lust, shining grey irises now black, blending in with his pupils.

“Use your thumb to smear the precum baby, like that,” Remus continued to coach you, watching as you ran your thumb over the sensitive head of Sirius’ member and how he jolted at the motion, “See he likes it.”

“Do you? Do you like it, Daddy?” You peered up at him through your eyelashes, cocking your head to the side without ever relenting the movement of your hand, “Am I doing a good job?”

Remus groaned from beside you, his gaze having left the dick in your hand, now landing on your face. Sirius simply smirked, dark curtains of hair framing his visage, the mere sight of him looming above you was enough to make you embarrassingly turned on, feeling pleasure begin to simmer in your belly you could only imagine how it would feel when you had him in your mouth.

“You’re doing a very good job Puppy,” It was Remus who spoke this time, “But it looks like Pads might be a little desperate to get his cock in your mouth, you think you’re ready?”

“I think so,” You nodded.

That was all Sirius needed before he was releasing his member from your hold, gripping his hand around it pumping it once, then twice before bringing the head to rest on your bottom lip. Tracing the seal of your lips with the weeping head of his prick he spoke, “Come on Puppy, wanna be the first cock in that pretty little mouth of yours.”

“You heard him (Y/N), open your mouth, time to take his cock.” Remus said from beside you.

“B-But I’ve never done this before, how am I supposed to know what to do?”

Getting more and more frustrated with the fact his prick still wasn’t in your mouth Sirius began shifting his weight from foot to foot anxiously.

“Don’t worry, it’s gonna be alright,” The werewolf soothed you, running his fingers through your tresses, “Gonna help you.”

Glancing over at Remus for one last confirmation you didn’t realize what Sirius was doing until it was too late and his member was making contact with your cheek as he slapped it against the side of your face, streaking precum across your skin, “Hurry up slut.”

You whimpered at the degradation of both his words and his action as you felt a pang of pleasure zip through your body, shivering at the filthiness of it. You shifted in your spot, trying to rub your thighs together to soothe some of the ache that resided there and that wasn’t showing any indication of relenting but neither of the older men were having it.

“Stop that,” Sirius growled, capturing your jaw in his hand, pushing your cheeks together so that your lips were forced open, “Not about you right now, you’re supposed to be getting me off,” With that, having lost all patience he pushed the head of his cock into your mouth, releasing a strangled groan as he stopped himself from pushing in deeper. 

Remus let out a small chuckle shifting so that he was closer to you, “There you go Poppet, just start with the head. You wanna be sure to keep your teeth tucked away so that you don’t hurt him,” Leaning in closer towards your ear he added something else in a low whisper, “We can do that later, yeah?”

You let out a small giggle, which because it was muffled by the cock sitting inside of your mouth sent vibrations of pleasure through Sirius, starting at the head of his member and working their way up the shaft. Unable to control himself he bucked into your mouth, not considerably deep but deep enough to jar you. 

“Careful Si,” Remus scolded gently, one of his hands going to grip Sirius’ bare thigh as a reminder not to rush. Looking at you he saw the tears brimming in your eyes at the sudden and unexpected motion, “Puppy,” He cooed, caressing the side of your face with his knuckles, “Gotta breathe through your nose, do you know how to do that baby?”

Shaking your head gently you were careful to keep your teeth tucked away behind your lips while still signaling that you had no clue what you were doing. 

“Are you choking on my cock?” Sirius mocked you, the concerned tone of voice so sickly sweet it was nauseating, “Not even doing anything with it, just sitting there in your mouth and you can’t even take it,” He thrusted up gently into your mouth, just enough for the head of his cock to brush up against the roof of your mouth as cause you to gag around his length.

“Be nice Sirius,” Remus seethed through gritted teeth, glaring up at him while he pet your hair, grounding you as you focused on inhaling and exhaling through your nostrils. Concentrating on that helped you to calm your gag reflex, no longer having a problem with how his member was positioned in your mouth.

“Daddy can be mean can’t he?” Remus directed his attention towards you, his tone was so falsely sympathetic that it worsened the need bubbling up inside of you as the pleasure in your stomach continued to simmer. 

You stopped yourself from nodding again, this time letting out an affirmative hum which pleased Remus as he watched Sirius’ hips stutter as he refrained from forcing his length all the way down your throat.

“You can suck harder bunny, it’ll feel good and he’ll tell you if something hurts or doesn’t feel good, gotta trust him to do that.”

Taking his advice you sucked more harshly at the member inside of your mouth, swirling your tongue around the head while looking up at him to gauge his reaction, he was still looking down at you, unblinking as though if he lost sight of you for even a moment the pleasure would stop. 

Remus slid his body behind yours so that your back was pressed to his chest with his cock achingly pressing into your bareback, smearing precum along your skin.

“Gotta hollow your cheeks Pup, like this,” His fingers found their way to either side of your face, pressing gently on your cheeks until he could feel the cock inside of your mouth. “It’ll feel good for him, make it tighter like it would be if he was fucking your cunt.”

One hand quickly abandoned your face, sliding its way down your stomach until his fingers were brushing the top of your lacy panties before slipping just his fingertips beneath the material. He simply cupped your pussy possessively, not working his fingers between your folds or into your hole, but just resting there, clutching you.

“Fuck Moons,” Sirius gritted, “She’s a fucking natural, hollowing her cheeks so prettily for me it’s like fucking her actual cunt.”

You whined at his words, squirming once again trying to relieve the ache burning between your thighs, the way he spoke to Remus, to Sir, like you weren’t even there. It was deliciously objectifying, degrading, and you loved it. 

Remus smiled into your neck as he moved to nip at your ear, the contact subtle, but still enough to have you shivering as pleasure tickled at your nerves which felt frayed and exposed, with every motion, every exhale against your skin it was like on fire had been set to each of them individually.

“Gonna make him feel even better now poppet, bob your head up and down and you’re gonna take your hand,” He took one of your hands, which had been resting on your thigh, and guided it to the base of Sirius’ member, “Just move it a little bit, on what you’re not able to fit into your mouth, don’t wanna neglect it.” 

Following his instructions you worked the exposed length of him in your hand as you bobbed your head up and down the rest, taking about half of his cock into the velvety warmth of your mouth. Running the brunt of your tongue along his shaft you acted upon the courage you felt surge through you, using the hand not at the base of his cock to grapple at his balls. 

You were more than pleased with the strangled moan that fell from Sirius’ lips, you’d gotten groans out of him earlier but not a moan. Remus noted this as well, his mouth still pressed against your ear, “Look at that, he’s so pretty with his head thrown back like that, moaning, and all because of your mouth.” 

One of his fingers found your bottom lip which was dripping with saliva, and he ran the pad of his finger along the cushion of your lip, pressing gently. 

“How’s it feel, Pads?” Remus looked up at the other man.

“She was born to suck cock,” He exhaled sharply as you took him deeper in your mouth, making a point to continue to hollow your cheeks.

The hand cupping your sex slid a finger between your folds, collecting your wetness on a singular digit causing you to jump at the contact before you rolled your hips towards his hand nonverbally begging for more.

Moving his lips to suck dark purple hues into the delicate flesh of your neck Remus spoke into your skin, “Once you make Daddy cum then it's your turn Bunny, don’t be greedy, you gotta give before you get.”

Taking his words at face value you became even more determined to make Daddy cum, knowing that not only would it be a personal feat, your first blow job, but that when it was done you would be getting so much more.

Breathing in sharply through your nose you willed your gag reflex not to act up as you pushed your head down on his cock, taking in as much of Sirius as you could which you were pleased to see that it was a majority of his length inside of your mouth by the time you hit your limit. 

You sucked more harshly at his member, swirling your tongue around what you could before Remus rose from where he had rested behind you, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head before moving to stand next to Sirius. You whimpered when his fingers slipped from your cunt but were intrigued as you watched through your lashes. Observing as Remus’ hands slipped under the smaller man’s shirt, palms running up and down the toned planes of his stomach as he meshed his lips with the other man’s.

You were unsure but you thought that you heard a command for Sirius to rid himself of his shirt as he quickly undid the buttons, letting the dress shirt fall to the floor with Remus’ quickly following suit.

Watching the two men make out with each other, Remus’ hands nestling themselves in Sirius’ long hair and Sirius’ gripping at Remmy’s bare ass, spurred you on in your efforts to make him cum.

Adjusting Siri’s length so that it sat comfortably in your throat and that so you could feel where it bulged against your throat before you swallowed around his length.

If the feeling of his load being shot down your throat wasn’t indication enough that your little trick had done the job then the sharp, “Fuck” the man released from above you certainly was. 

You swallowed his cum just as you had his spit before easing yourself off of his length, taking extra care to keep your teeth from his sensitive cock. Looking up at him with wide eyes you watched him lay his head on Remus’ chest as marks similar to the ones left on your neck were left on his, and though yours were beginning to feel a bit tender you knew that Sirius was loving his as much as you were loving yours.

“Did I do a good job Daddy?” You looked up at him owlishly, cocking your head to the side.

“Fuck Moons if you don’t fuck her I will,” Was all you got in response as Remus chuckled into the newly bruised skin of his lover pulling away to assess you. 

He frowned looking at you as he noticed that you were still in your underwear, “Up,” He ordered, once you were on your feet he was in front of you in a single stride, strong, scarred arms were extending around your torso to undo the clasp of your bra, pulling the straps off of your shoulders allowing the garment to fall to the floor before kneeling in front of you to tug your panties down which you then stepped out of.

“On the bed,” He ordered simply, your panties hanging from the crook of his finger as he moved to deposit them in the pocket of his blazer, cock bobbing in the air as he moved about the room.

Positioning yourself on the bed, on your hands and knees you caught a glimpse of Sirius lounging on an armchair in the room, cock resting against his thigh as he recovered from his first orgasm of the night. He shot you a lazy smile before raking his eyes along your form, studying each ripple and ridge hungrily. 

On your hands and knees, you felt uncomfortably vulnerable but you knew it was all worth it when you felt Remus settle in behind you, his hands moving to grip your hips and pull you back towards his pelvis.

You pushed your bum back towards Remus as you felt the head of his cock run through your soaking folds, you were almost embarrassed by how wet sucking Sirius off had made you but you couldn’t quite summon the energy.

“Don’t rush bunny, I got you, I promise,” With one hand guiding his cock and the other anchoring you to him he pushed just the head of his member inside of you. You clenched around him, trying to suck more of his length up into you because though you technically had him you needed more.

Not feeling particularly patient himself Remus wasted no time before pushing the entirety of his length inside of you, growling as your cunt pulsed around him. 

“Sir!” You moaned feeling yourself stretch around him, having never taken his cock before you weren’t ready for the way that he stretched you so wide it was bordering on painful just barely avoiding tipping over the edge. 

Allowing you a moment to adjust to his length he pulled out of you until his member barely rested inside of you before thrusting himself all the way back in. A hand running down your back signaled for you to arch your back for him which of course you did.

His pace was fast but deep, the depth of his strokes consistent as he reached depths inside of you you hadn’t even known existed before. Pistoning his hips in and out of you the rhythmic sound of skin slapping up against skin filled the room and you could feel his balls slapping up against your clit which each and every thrust.

“Pretty bunny,” Remus’ low voice sounded through the room, accompanied by the sounds of your skin against each other as he leaned back to watch his member disappear in you before pulling back out, “Such a pretty bunny for me, so sweet and innocent aren’t you?”

“Yes Sir,” You responded, allowing your head to drop and hang as you fell onto your elbows rather than your hands.

Sirius tutted as he rose from his seat in the corner, his beautifully tattooed body still glistening with sweat as he began pumping his cock while walking towards you, “Please, she’s not a pretty bunny, she’s a little cum slut. Dumb little bunny.”

You whined out at his degradation, your eyes squeezed shut as a wave of pleasure coursed through you causing you to let out a ragged breath. 

“See, she likes it, dumb bunny.” Though you couldn’t see him you were sure that he was grinning wickedly down at you.

“No m’not! I’m a pretty bunny,” You insisted, though your message was a bit undercut as you slurred your words.

“That’s right, pretty bunny,” Remus cooed, groping the globes of your ass in his hands, squeezing the flesh before pulling away to observe the handprints he left on your skin, if only for a moment.

“She wants to be, but she’s not, she’s just a cock hungry slut.” Sirius countered and you looked up at him with pleading eyes, desperately seeking his approval but all you got was a sneer as he pumped his cock next to your face.

“Not nice, Sir says you’re mean,” You whined as Remus continued to thrust in and out of you, rather enjoying watching the interaction between his two lovers.

“Oh is that right? Well, I don’t fucking care if I’m mean, you’re a dumb fuck bunny and if telling you that is mean then oh well,” He grasped your jaw in between his hand, forcing your head up at an uncomfortable angle to make eye contact with you, “Guess I’m mean.”

The whine you released at that was perhaps the most pathetic of the night, you felt pathetic at the gush of wetness you felt at his words, the pleasure in your belly progressing from a simmer to a boil as Remus’ hand reached around to find your clit, pinching the sensitive bundle of nerves between his thumb and forefinger.

“Don’t listen to him,” The man buried deep inside of your cunt told you, “You’re my pretty bunny, keep on being my pretty bunny, prove Daddy wrong.”

It was all too much, the contrast between Remus’ praising words and Sirius’ harsh ones, the sight of Sirius’ tattooed hand working up and down his shaft, Remus’ pace in and out of you and his hand on your clit. 

It was just all too much.

You could barely see straight as the pleasure boiling in your belly overflowed, like hot lava flowing you felt pleasure flow through your veins as you climaxed. Your orgasm left you feeling warm in every nook and cranny as your eyes rolled back into your head. It felt like you were underwater as your thoughts swam around you, mingling with the noises in the room around you.

Your head was still heavy as you opened your eyes which you hadn’t realized you’d squeezed shut, you jolted forward as Remus continued moving in and out of your pussy, trying to get away from his cock. Your orgasm had been electrifying leaving you sensitive but Remus didn’t seem to be relenting.

“Don’t recall telling you you could cum Poppet,” Remus said from behind you, and that’s when you realized why he wasn’t stopping, “Maybe Daddy was right, maybe you are just a dumb bunny.”

tagging: @randomoutsiders @weasleyposts @amourtentiaa @kittykylax @superbturtlemakerathlete

[nxrthmizu]

kill em’ with kindness

fandom | miraculous ladybug 

genre | lila salt, so much salt 

summary | marinette takes the high road to a better life. 

w.c | 8.1k 

author’s note | had this idea for a few days after i wrote victory tastes bitter, which really blew up on ao3 (thanks for all the support <3). always wondered what it would be like if marinette just. played nice. so here she is, being an absolute badass. 

author’s note.2 | okay so since i did not write this in one sitting, i get that the story probably doesn’t flow as properly as it should. will edit if i ever find the will to do it. 

Marinette was done. They wanted her to be a model student? Fine. They wanted her to stop being mean? Fine. They wanted her to be friends with Lila? Fine.

Luckily for Hawkmoth, no akuma plagued the sky of the previous night, or she would rain hell on him. There was no more tolerance left inside her to spare, and she certainly wouldn’t go out of her way to make some for the manipulative pest problem Paris has had for way too long.

She looked up into the mirror, having exchanged her pigtails for a low ponytail, strands curled to frame her face. Bluebell eyes glistened with a fire that burned brighter than hope— Hope that her ‘friends’ would see sense. Hope that Adrien would be there for her. Hope that the good guy would always get the happy ending. No more being patient, no more being passive, no more putting up with things she didn’t have to.

If Lila Rossi wanted a battle, then fine, a battle she would get. Marinette was lowering her white flag, replacing it with a battle emblem that scorched red, redder than blood and redder than the anger her friends would feel when she was finished. No more peace negotiations. Rossi wanted a fight, Rossi wanted a challenge. Who was Marinette to deny her from what she wanted?

They didn’t know what was coming for them.

The power of makeup was truly one that reigned apex among the world. A few touches of her makeup brush was all it took to erase her dark eyes from existence, give her skin a more radiant glow (She promised that she’d take time to give it a natural glow after she was done being nice), and ease a cherry-pink blush onto her cheeks, making her freckles stand out more in contrast. Marinette Dupain-Cheng meant business, and when she meant business—

“Good morning, Marinette! You look great today!” The head of the student council, a sensible, down-to-Earth blonde by the name of Noelle smiled, speeding up slightly to catch the bluenette on the steps of Francois Dupont. “Love the new look.”

Ah yes. The new look— A royal blue blazer, detailed with golden embroidery of cherry blossoms bursting at the sleeves and the collar, accompanied by a classy-looking silk blouse tapered with a soft, black felt. The pleated black skirt (Made from heavy cloth so that it wouldn’t flap about in the wind) was lined with a beautiful scarlet at all the edges to complete the look. Knee-high black socks trailed all the way into the slight heels that Marinette had added flower adornments on, just so she could tap a little of her own touch on it.

“Thank you,” Responded the bluenette with a smile.

“Woah! Someone looks like they got a good night of rest.” Madeline, the president of the Art Club teased, flocking to the other side of the girl. “That mascara looks sharp enough to kill, girl!”

Sharp enough to kill?

Oh, that wouldn’t be necessary, Marinette mused to herself, sending out thanks to those who had complimented her on her way to class. Nothing sharp was going to be required for the liar’s downfall— No, no. That would just be too messy, and she wouldn’t even think of staining her new outfit. Of course, the ensemble was crafted from her own hands, as stated by the classic MDC that graced the inside of her blazer, the collar of her blouse, and one of the pleats of her skirt. Besides… Lila wasn’t worth getting her hands dirty.

She was going to do things the right way.

The kind way.

“Good morning, everyone.” She greeted, walking into the classroom, garnering their attention with her punctuality. Every set of eyes in the room were attracted to her, like iron fillings to magnets. Some of the gazes were malicious, hateful; Some were doubtful, wary; One was pleading, as if spelling out ‘Please keep taking the high road!’— And then there was Chloe, who was entirely uninterested.

Good, Lila was already present.

“I’d just like to take a minute of your time. Won’t be too long, I promise.” She took a deep breath, ignoring the imploring gaze that dug at her side, courtesy of a blonde that sat in the front row (And no, it wasn’t Chloe she was referring to). “I’d just like to say…”

The class watched with bated breath.

“I’m sorry.”

Alya blinked. So did everyone else in the room. Stunned faces greeted Marinette’s apologetic one, including Lila’s— She didn’t even have to fake her reaction. What on Earth was Marinette trying to pull off? What kind of stunt was this?

“I realise that I’ve not really been the best version of me lately,” She admitted sorrowfully. I haven’t been the best version of me because I was being boycotted and isolated, “It wasn’t fair to put you all through this,” It wasn’t fair that you idiots had to lose all your reputations because of the words of one liar, “And people got hurt as a consequence,” Me. I was the one who got hurt. “I realise that things haven’t been all smooth-sailing in our class lately, so I’d like to apologise to everyone.” I’d like to apologise for not being able to save you from a liar who only sees her own personal gain.

A practiced breath escaped Marinette’s throat as she waited for her cue— The school bell— And set her bag on the teacher’s desk. Good, everything was unfolding right on time. Not quite far away, there was a distinct clack-clack-clack of someone’s heels— An auburn teacher, perhaps? Marinette reached into her backpack and drew out a package she had meticulously wrapped in brown paper and tied in golden ribbon. Sitting passively on top of the package was a small note, decorated in hand-drawn flowers and a hummingbird in the corner.

“Here,” Marinette strode up the steps of the class, stopping right in front of her former seat— Now Lila’s— Internally taking pleasure in the first time she’d seen the Italian’s true expression. “For you, as a token of my apology. I understand if you don’t want to forgive me,” Marinette swallowed painfully, biting her lip, as if she was trying not to cry, “But I just want to make things right.”

Lila blinked.

What the hell was happening?

The silence was broken by a quiet sob, one that did not originate from Marinette. Instead, Mlle. Caline Bustier stood in the doorway of the class, clutching her books and notes for the day’s lesson, wiping away a tear that dropped from her eye. “Oh, Marinette,” The teacher sobbed, “I’m so proud of you.”

“That’s so sweet of you, Marinette.” Rose sniffed, wiping away a few tears of her own that had started dripping during the bluenette’s speech. Juleka patted her girlfriend’s back, trying to calm the emotional blonde before she cried out a tsunami on top of her textbooks, giving Marinette a thumbs up to show her approval.

Alya beamed, seemingly proud of her former best friend, who had (In her opinion) finally started to see sense. “I’m so proud of you, girl!”

(Adrien was too shocked to form any words.)

“Could you… Open it?” Marinette asked hopefully, ignoring the teacher for the favour of the liar who ruined her life. “I… Just want to know if you like it.”

The Italian could do nothing more than grit her teeth when Alya urged her to open it. What kind of trick was Mari-Brat up to? Never mind— She’d just spin it into something stupid and the class would take to it like starved animals. With no other choice, she tore apart the brown paper, discarding the golden ribbon on her desk. The class gasped, oohs and aahs echoing all around as the package unfolded to reveal a pretty, beige-coloured cardigan, hand-stitched with murals of foxes, jumping livelily among berry bushes.

Stitched into the inside of the cardigan in pastel blue were the words ‘Lila Rossi’, done in an exquisite cursive that could no doubt only come from Marinette’s hand.

“I made it for you myself,” Marinette sniffed humbly. “I know you’re a really great model and you’ve probably seen clothes that are much better than this one, but I poured all my feelings into it. I spent every night of last week working on it, and—” She hiccuped rather loudly, instantly covering her mouth with her hand in embarrassment. “I just hope you like it.”

“I…” Lila was at a loss for words. She had an itinerary full of the lies and stories she would spin that day (“Marinette texted me mean things last night,” she would weep tearfully to Alya, sniffing and wiping away tears on Alya’s shirt sleeve, “I just want to be friends but she just keeps… Attacking me!”) but no matter. A smirk danced along the Italian’s lips. “Did you design this yourself?” 

Judging by the smirk that Marinette could practically hear in the other girl’s tone, the liar already had a trick up her sleeve. If Marinette had to guess... 

Something along the lines of she stole this design from [random designer], who just coincidentally had the time to be Lila’s friend. Or maybe the friend of Lila’s grandmother. Whichever didn’t matter much, because Marinette was prepared. 

Marinette crossed the room in mere seconds, returning back to Lila’s seat with a sketchbook that she’d pulled from her bag. “Here!” She chirped, flipping open the page with an exercised movement, not even having to shuffle through the pages to find the correct sketch. “I brought the original sketch, just in case you wanted to see it so you could get a professional to redo it for you.” 

Lila opened and closed her mouth like a gaping fish out of water. Beside her, Alya’s eyes sparkled, envy still glowing in her eyes at the sight of the intricate foxes, coloured in hazel, gold, and orange threads. 

“Thank you, Marinette.” Lila gritted through her teeth, basically seething at the thought of having to thank the girl in front of her, who was smiling like an innocent sunshine child. 

The bluenette then turned her attention to her homeroom teacher. “Sorry for interrupting and taking up class time, Mlle. Bustier.” 

“It’s not a problem, Marinette,” Mlle. Bustier wiped at her eyes, slightly embarrassed now that the whole class was watching her cry at the sight of her ‘model student’ correcting her wrongs. “E— Excuse me.” She mumbled, clearing her throat. “Let’s pick off from where we stopped yesterday. Open your textbooks to page 63, please.” 

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

The rest of the day went along smoothly. Marinette sat at the back of class, as usual, sighing in boredom as class was derailed off course, whisked off by another one of Lila’s tall tales. Honestly, they were already weeks off schedule— How the hell were they expected to sit for the final exam, at this rate? 

She huffed quietly to herself, watching Bustier trying (and failing) to act like she wasn’t interested in Lila’s story. The woman— An actual adult— Fell for Lila’s usual tricks like a fool, taking in every single word in drunken thirst. Did Mlle. Bustier really have nothing better to do than get absorbed in a teenage girl’s wild fantasies (in a way it was like that). At that thought, Marinette sat up straighter in her chair, an idea going off like a lightbulb above her brain. 

Was it...? 

After further thought, Marinette settled back into her chair, humming thoughtfully as she drummed her fingers against her table quietly. Yes... Yes, perhaps. 

Perhaps it was possible. 

The rest of the lesson passed in wasted time as the class took a major detour to go on a warped journey through Lila’s lies, and before Bustier knew it, the lunch bell had rung. Students chattered animatedly as everyone got up, Mlle. Bustier’s announcement of ‘please go home and study this chapter by yourselves, everyone’ was pathetically drowned out by the rest of the noise. 

Marinette collected her things quickly, needing her exit from the classroom to go off without a hitch, exactly the way she planned it. “I’ve got to go back to my parents’ bakery for lunch,” She said shyly, shrinking into herself as her classmates turned to look at her. “I... Was thinking of bringing some macarons back later. Before I go, though... Lila, is there anything you’re allergic to?” 

“What?” The girl being asked snapped back as a reply, the words leaving her mouth too fast for her to register. Before she knew it, the whole class was staring at her, mouths agape. “I... I mean.” Clearing her throat, the liar plastered on a sweet smile. “What was it, Marinette?” 

“I wanted to bring some macarons back for everyone.” Shyly, the bluenette repeated her plans. “And... Since I’ve been in class with everyone else here for a while, I know their allergies, but not yours. Is there anything you’re allergic to that could be in baked goods?” 

The Italian cursed under her breath— Mari-Brat really wasn’t letting up. The bluenette had made sure to cover any ground that the Italian could use and turn back against her. “As far as I’m concerned, I’m not allergic to anything.” 

Brightening visibly, Marinette nodded, shooting the Italian a smile. “I know things between us aren’t going to get better immediately, but I promise to do my best in fixing things! See you guys after lunch.” 

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

Lila was getting really, really fed up. For the whole morning, she wasn’t able to come up with any reason to blame Marinette. If things kept going at the rate that they were, the class would be fully convinced that the bluenette was a changed woman, and that couldn’t happen. There was, in the end, a downside to having such a gullible bunch of classmates— Sure, they swayed easily to her side, but that meant that they swayed back to Marinette’s just as easily. 

Hissing under her breath, Lila looked up to catch Alya and Nino’s concerned looks. 

No. 

She was Lila Rossi. She was resourceful. She had Gabriel Agreste behind her back. She was powerful. She was not going to let Mari-Brat halt her plans in their tracks ever again. 

“I’m going to go use the bathroom real quick,” She said, excusing herself from the lunch table. Perfect! Now all she had to do was come back in tears, saying that Marinette confronted and mocked her in the bathroom, and the class would be all hers, once again. 

Little did she know that Dupain-Cheng was one teensy step ahead. 

As soon as Lila rounded the corner of the cafeteria, Marinette appeared, having just had a lovely chat with Rose (And Juleka, although it was Rose who did most of the talking). The two were at the front steps of Francois Dupont, having a lovely couple moment that Marinette hated to interrupt— But she needed to have at least a word with them. 

“Rose, Juleka!” Marinette greeted, box of macarons held carefully in her arms, as if it were a box of important jewelry instead of just a box of pastries. “Oh— Rose, is that a new watch? I’ve never seen you wear it before!” 

“Yep, it is!” Rose beamed, delighted that someone (Besides Juleka) had finally noticed it. “Isn’t it pretty?” Indeed it was. The watch in question was a pretty, intricate-looking thing done in rose-gold metal, with a pastel pink leather strap holding it down. The background of the watch face was a white background with a thin film of rose-gold metal, cut to resemble a wall of precious rose vines. 

“It is!” Agreeing wholeheartedly, Marinette offered her classmate a smile. “Oh by the way, what time is it?” 

Rose peered at the watchface, returning the answer with an equally-bright smile. “11.47.” 

“Thank you.” Marinette thanked, continuing her way through the school until she reached the cafeteria. Just before she fell into line of sight, though, she hid behind a wall, peering over the corner until she spotted the table she was looking for. 

Perfect— Lila just walked away. Marinette thanked the gods for all the luck that she was having— Okay, maybe she thanked one god in particular more than the others. Gently, she patted the secret pocket that was sewn into the lining of her blazer— Tikki, who had magic powers, managed to create a miniature ‘room’ inside the secret pocket, with the pocket itself acting as a portal of sorts to the room. After a few seconds, she felt the pocket tap back, managing a small smile of gratitude for her kwami’s constant love and support. 

“Hey, Alya, Nino.” Marinette greeted shyly, box of macarons propped up against her hip. “Where’s... Lila?” She hesitated slightly with her question, acting as if it was a little out-of-place to ask about the Italian girl. 

“She went to the bathroom.” Nino provided, mouth still full of unchewed food. This gifted him with a smack from his girlfriend (“Don’t talk with your mouth full!” she scolded,). 

“Oh, I see.” I definitely see. I know what she’s going to try and pull later— I have to time this properly. Timing is everything. 

Marinette continued to make small talk with the two, whom she had not talked to for a very long time. Much to her surprise, they were very warm and accepting, quite unlike the people who slung slurs and accused her baselessly a few days ago. One morning made all the difference to people who believed anything, she supposed. 

All of a sudden, something in her chest buzzed, as if it were a fire alarm, vibrating in warning— She had to go. “It was nice talking to you guys again.” She admitted, having briefly dipped into a pool of what their friendship used to be like. “But I have to go. I promised Kagami I’d meet her for a few minutes before lunch ended.”

Alya’s eyebrows jumped up comically in surprise. “I didn’t know you still talked to her. I thought you two were… Love rivals.”

“So what if we were love rivals?” Marinette shrugged with a simple smile. “Adrien is… As much as it’s odd to admit, he’s just a boy. Neither of us let him get in between us. He’s just a boy, and it’d be stupid for us to not get along just because we like the same boy. It doesn’t bother Kagami that we used to like the same boy, so why should I let it bother me? Besides,” Marinette tilted her head slightly. “It’d be stupid to give up a great friendship just because of a boy.”

With her last words still hanging in the air, Marinette turned tail and left, walking faster than usual. She had little time left— As she neared the wall that would shield her from the view of the cafeteria, she sped up her footsteps, practically half-sprinting just so she could get out of sight before Lila Rossi returned, looking like someone just killed a puppy in front of her very eyes.

“Oh my god, what’s wrong?” Alya jumped to her feet instantly, reaching out to comfort her best friend, who was moments away from having tears stream down her cheeks.

“I… I thought she’d changed.” Lila sniffled, biting her lip to appear as if she was desperately trying not to cry.

Alya frowned. “Who?”

“Marinette.” Lila stated as if it were obvious, faltering for a moment— Why had Alya bothered to ask? Shouldn’t it come pretty obvious? The liar dismissed the thoughts and continued in her performance. “She threatened me in the bathroom. She… She confronted me and mocked me, saying… Saying that all of you… All of you are idiots for believing that she’s changed. She… She said everything was an act to turn you all against me.”

Nino’s jaw dropped so far that it touched the floor. “Uh… Dudette, are you sure it was Marinette?”

“Yes!” Lila spun to look at him so fast that it was a wonder she didn’t break her neck. “Are… Are you doubting me? Oh my god, it’s working. She’s turning you guys against me. I just want to have friends, I don’t get why she hates me so—”

“You’re… Absolutely sure it was Marinette? You saw her face?” Alya repeated her boyfriend’s words, emphasising each and everyone of them as she looked Lila in the eyes.

“Alya, not you too.” Lila sniffled, tears basically dropping out of her eyes like big, fat droplets of salt water. “It was her— I saw her blazer, it had MDC stitched onto it.”

An uncomfortable silence settled in between the girl and her boyfriend, neither quite knowing what to say. “Oh. I… I see.” Alya said at last, turning back to her food. “Well… Lunch is almost over. Let’s… Let’s get back to class.”

“Marinette just threatened me in the bathroom!” Lila puffed up, clearly upset now. “She mocked me! She called you guys stupid for believing her act!”

“Dudette.” Nino shattered the ice-cold silence at their lunch table, swallowing heavily. “Marinette was with us the whole time you were in the bathroom.”

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

The tension inside the room was so thick that Adrien could cut it with his bare hands. God, what had happened? The day had started off so well— Marinette agreed to be friends with Lila, god bless the girl— But as it turned out, one hurdle folded over only to be towered over by a taller one. 

“Alya—” Lila began tearfully, her pitiful look attracting the sympathy of those who still didn’t know what was going on. 

“You claimed that Marinette threatened you in the bathroom.” Alya interrupted. “While she was with us the whole time in the cafeteria.” 

Faltering, the Italian struggled to find a way to squeeze herself out of the tight spot. “M— Maybe it was someone else.” Reluctantly, she backed out one trap into another one. 

“You said that you were sure! You said that she was wearing a blazer with MDC stitched on it. Marinette was wearing that blazer during lunch!” The reporter shot back, Nino at her side, trying to extinguish the conflicted fire blazing inside Alya’s heart. 

The seeds of doubt had been sewn, and Lila was going to have a tough time weeding them out. “I... I’m sorry!” She burst out into tears, sobbing pitifully in front of the class, most of which were already in attendance. “My lying disease is acting up again. I... I can’t help it. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone!” 

“Uh... Is this a bad time to ask if anyone wants macarons?” Marinette cleared her throat awkwardly, standing at the front of the room. Her royal blue blazer had been shed, and it now hung over her arm, properly folded into half. Earlier, she had asked Rose for the time to make sure that she had a witness in case Lila tried to pull another act— But as it seemed, the Italian was determined to dig her own grave and all the work had been done. 

The students of Mlle. Bustier’s class shared looks. 

“I’ll... I’ll have one.” Mylene cleared her throat, hoping that it would diffuse the situation. 

“Me too.” Kim followed, not missing the way Marinette flinched slightly at his words. Most of the words he had said to her of late had not been nice at all— But he justified that with the fact that she was being a bully to Lila, like Chloe had been to Marinette herself. 

“Great!” Marinette cleared her throat awkwardly, slapping on a strained smile. She passed the box to the front row, where Sabrina and Chloe were, gesturing for them to pass the box along until everyone got their fill. 

Internally, Lila seethed, anger burning like a wildfire that tore down every lush sign of life in her path. The girl had never felt that livid in her entire life— Who did Dupain-Cheng think she was, having a change of heart out of nowhere, pretending to play along with those oh-so-innocent eyes of hers? 

“I... I think I know why my disease acted up again,” Lila sniffled, loud enough to gather attention again. Unsure glances passed around like an object that no one wanted, carried from hand to hand forcefully as no one wanted to hold onto it for too long. “It... It must’ve been because of... Of the cardigan that Marinette made me! You must’ve known that...” The Italian squinted at the cardigan on her desk, “... Cotton triggers my lying disease!” 

The bluenette, still passing around macarons, stopped in her tracks. Inside her mind, Marinette was shaking her head, an amused smile on her cheeks. She had to give Lila credit for that one— She would’ve never anticipated that lie from her nemesis. “That’s terrible!” She sucked in a breath, putting on a dismayed look. “I’m really sorry, Lila! I know it seems like I did this on purpose, but I promise I didn’t! To make it up to you, I’ll make you another one.” 

Is she serious right now? Lila scoffed mentally. How long does she plan to keep this going? No matter— She’ll eventually drain herself out and I won’t even have to meddle in this matter. 

Marinette sniffled, collecting the cardigan pitifully from Lila’s desk. “But to prevent future incidents, Lila, I just want you to know that this isn’t made of cotton... It’s made from the highest-quality of star silk, which is incredibly difficult to produce and is rather expensive. It’s such a pity... I thought that only the best of materials would be deserving to be used to make an apology present... I guess you can’t wear it. I’ll just make another copy of the cardigan with some normal-range silk.” Sighing, the bluenette pretended to mull in sadness for a few seconds before an idea struck her. “Alya! You aren’t allergic to star silk, right?” 

The flow of conversation redirected suddenly, with the reporter snapping to attention and nodding eagerly as she realised what was about to happen. 

“Then... Since I’ve spent so long on this, I don’t want it to go to waste... Why don’t you have it, instead?” Offered Marinette with a sweet, shy smile on her face. 

Lila, still caught up in shock by the reveal of the material— Was then slammed with a wall of flaming anger as Alya squealed, coddling the soft, fluffy material that made the cardigan the exquisite product it was. 

“Marinette’s right,” Adrien chipped in with his own two cents, “Father can rarely get his hands on that material— It costs a fortune, and if hand-made... It takes forever.” 

“Oh, I wove the silk by myself,” Marinette added shyly after Adrien’s contribution, “So I apologise if it’s not up to the quality of industry-level star silk.” 

The reporter gushed, still cooing and running her hands over the gorgeous threads of fabric that made up the cloud-like base of the cardigan, eyes sparkling and the details of the embroidery. 

Marinette smiled, returning to her seat without a fuss. The rest of the class continued to pass the pastries around, the perfect description of ‘ignorance is bliss’ as they pretended as if they couldn’t see the way Lila was shaking in anger. Alya, on the other hand, could see nothing but the garment in her hands, her ‘best friend’ having become invisible for the time being. 

Just as well that it turned out this way, Marinette hummed, twirling her pen in hand, Let that be my departing gift to Rena Rouge. 

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

Tomorrow arrived like clockwork, never late and always on time. The crowd of students clamouring by the front of Francois Dupont hushed to silence as they parted for two dark-haired women, both of which were giving off waves of confidence. Simple conversation flowed between the two, who were perfect examples of elegance and grace, their traditional-inspired attire complementing the royal-like aura they had. 

“This dress is really lovely, Marinette,” Kagami smiled gently, admiring the way the fabric flowed around her. The designer had gifted her friend with a maroon-coloured hanfu-inspired dress, complete with hand-sewn embroidery of a golden dragon curled around Kagami’s waist and neck. The dress was completed with a pleated skirt that went all the way to the heels. At first, the fencer was reluctant about the skirt due to the limited maneuverability, but then Marinette revealed that the skirt was very simple to take off as it was just tied around the waist. 

“You look gorgeous in it. It suits you.” Marinette replied, dressed in a similar looking dress. Her hanfu-inspired dress was light pink in colour, with silver threads depicting cranes flying about freely. The pleated skirt was grey in colour, lined with a soft circle of white. 

Kagami blushed slightly. “Thank you.” Briefly, the Japanese girl wondered why on Earth Marinette would go and embroider a dragon onto her dress— Was it purely a coincidence, or...? 

“I’m really glad you decided to transfer here,” Marinette smiled softly, her dark blue bangs framing her face as the rest of it was gathered into a braid that Kagami had helped weave. “It’s going to be nice! I’ll get to see you a lot more often.” 

“We’re in different classes, though.” Frowning, Kagami wondered if she should request a change of homeroom. 

“For now.” The designer winked playfully. “Oh, I have to get to class. See you during lunch?” 

Without waiting for a reply, the blue-eyed girl moved away gracefully, leaving Kagami in confusion. 

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

“Good morning,” Marinette greeted gracefully, sweeping into the classroom with her bag over her shoulder and a package in her hands. This package was clearly not as exquisitely-wrapped as the one from the day before, as it was just brown paper and some rough string. 

Alya brightened at the sight of her friend, shrinking away slightly whenever Lila tried to say anything. Sure, the reporter did shake off the initial reaction and respond to whatever her ‘best friend’ said, but the damage had been done. 

“Here’s your new cardigan. It’s made from the same material as your shirt,” Marinette smiled warmly, placing the package on Lila’s table. “It’s a little different from the one I brought yesterday, but I still poured in all my emotions when I made it, so I hope you’ll accept it.” 

Through a gritted smile, the Italian thanked the designer, clenching her fists under the table. That was the second time in two days she had to thank Mari-brat! She swore that if she had to do it again a third time, she was going to slap someone. 

“Oh, Marinette!” Alya called out excitedly, wearing the cardigan that was originally supposed to be Lila’s. “This cardigan is so soft! It’s really amazing to wear! As expected of you, girl!” 

The bluenette stared back at the reporter, wavering for a bit. She had a feeling that Alya wanted something from her... 

“So... I was wondering...” The reporter’s expression turned sheepish, with Marinette’s internal thought-train going ah, there it comes— “Could you remove this and put my name instead?” Alya picked up the corner of the cardigan, pointing to the inside of the garment, where ‘Lila Rossi’ was embroidered on. 

“Ah...” Marinette didn’t even have to fake her nervousness. We already agreed on this, She told herself, No more doing free stuff for people. No more. “Sorry, Alya. My parents need a lot of help in the bakery recently,.. You know how it is! Family always comes first. I’ve already taken out a lot of time to make the cardigan for Lila... And I promised Kagami I’d go out with her this weekend. I’m afraid I don’t have time...” 

There was no missing the way Alya’s face fell instantly. “Couldn’t you put off Kagami for me? Aren’t we best friends?” 

“I thought Lila was your best friend,” Feigning an expression of innocence, Marinette tilted her head slightly. “You shouldn’t go around saying things like that, Alya. You might hurt Lila’s feelings. Besides, a promise is a promise. I wouldn’t want to hurt Kagami’s feelings either. Not to mention— I gave you that cardigan for free. That was two weeks’ worth of hard work. I’m afraid I don’t have the ability to take time out to alter it for free either. If you really want to get it done, you could ask an external tailor to do it for you. I know a few who can do really good embroidery.” 

Alya faltered. “But... We used to be best friends...” 

Snorting mentally, Marinette continued to hold her calm composure. “Like I said, you really shouldn’t say that, Alya. Lila might get upset and we don’t want to hurt her feelings— Right, Adrien?” 

The blonde jumped when the conversation turned to him out of nowhere. All of a sudden, every eye in the classroom was fixed on him. “R— Right, of course.” He said, forcing out each word. 

Satisfied, Marinette nodded, still wearing her ever-so-kind smile. “Exactly.” 

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

“Hey, why don’t we all go out and have a picnic outside during lunch?” Alya suggested loudly, jumping up as soon as the lunch bell rang. “Marinette, you can come along too!” Something inside the reporter’s chest was stirring, and with the events of the past few days, Alya felt like she just had to quench that unsettling feeling— And the first step to that was to mend things with Marinette, even though it was the bluenette’s fault for always having been biased to Lila. Alya smiled, proud of herself. She would be the bigger person, she would forgive Marinette, she would integrate the designer back into the class again. 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Marinette replied just as quickly, “We don’t know what Lila might be allergic to— She could easily trigger a reaction if we go out, especially since it’s spring.” 

A collective choir of groans rounded the class. 

“Well, I’m going to go back to the hotel to have a first-class meal,” Chloe turned her nose up at her classmates. “... Dupain-Cheng, would you like to come?” 

Shock painted the faces of the whole classroom. Did Chloe just... Ask Marinette something... Politely? 

“I’d love to take that offer, Chloe.” Responded the bluenette, graceful and flawless as ever. “Perhaps tomorrow?” 

“Suit yourself. They’re serving lobster today.” Chloe huffed. “If you’re really that busy, then fine. We can discuss...” The Mayor’s daughter trailed off as she blushed. 

The bluenette giggled knowingly. “You’d like to commission a dress from me, right?” 

“... No.” 

“...” 

“... Maybe.” 

“Alright.” Marinette nodded. “Then maybe it’ll be more convenient if I head over to the hotel after school. I’ll need to take your measurements and we can discuss the prices after.” 

“Whatever.” Chloe waved her away haughtily, a poor effort to cover up her embarrassment. “Sabrina. Let’s go.” 

“Chloe?” Alya guffawed. “Why are you commissioning something from Marinette?” 

Rolling her eyes as if Alya had just asked the stupidest question ever, Chloe answered plainly. “Because she’s one of the up-and-rising designers in the industry? Have you seen what Dupain-Cheng is wearing today? Celebrities are already fighting for spots in her commission list. Even my mother and Gabriel Agreste acknowledge her talent. I’m not dumb, Cesaire. I can recognise a future fashion queen when I see one.” 

Wow, Marinette breathed, looking at the stunned faces around the room, Chloe sure knows how to create an impression. 

“W— Well.” Stuttered the reporter after Chloe made her big exit. “Then... What about going to the bakery for lunch?” 

“Didn’t Lila say she saw a rat in the bakery the last time she visited it?” Marinette pointed out. “The health officer checked the surveillance and the claim was dismissed, of course, because my parents make sure the bakery is as hygienic as possible— But I’m sure Lila is traumatised from that incident. I wouldn’t want to force her to come along to the bakery— And we wouldn’t want to leave her out either, right?” 

This elicited another round of groans. 

Oh, I am enjoying myself way too much, Marinette chuckled mentally. 

“Then— Then...” Alya struggled visibly before she was put out of her misery. 

“It’s fine, Alya.” The designer reassured her. “I wouldn’t want to bother Lila. I’m sure she’s still upset at me. You guys go ahead. I have to go back to the bakery to help my parents out. See you guys after!” 

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

Slam! 

Lila fumed, hand still pressed on her locker door. What. The. Hell. Was Mari-brat trying to do? She didn’t miss the way some of her classmates sent her unsatisfactory looks after that pre-lunch stunt that Marinette had pulled. 

And what was the thing about high-and-mighty Chloe commissioning from Marinette? 

Sure, Lila would admit that the cardigan that the designer made was indeed gorgeous, and the fabric was smooth and velvety, a quality unlike any of the clothing that Lila had ever had the privilege to touch— But surely a lowly brat like Dupain-Cheng couldn’t be that popular... Right? 

Dammit, hissed the Italian girl, Maybe I should’ve tried being friends with Mari-brat instead of Cesaire. 

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

“Is that... Marinette and Kagami?” Nino gaped, prompting Alya to turn around. It was true— Walking up the steps of Francois Dupont together were the two blue-haired girls, a gentle smile dancing on Kagami’s lips as Marinette talked animatedly, her hands waving around quickly to further elaborate her point. 

Students lounging around the entrance for lunch couldn’t tear their eyes off the two and their matching dresses. Sure, the two girls had walked into school the same way that morning— But now that the afternoon sun was high up in the sky, the golden and silver embroidery was glinting luminously, revealing the true caliber of Marinette’s craft. 

“But... They’re rivals.” Stuttered Alya. She just couldn’t understand... Weren’t they supposed to hate each other? 

“They both like Adrien but they can still get along,” Nino remarked thoughtfully, taking a bite from his sandwich. “So Marinette wasn’t lying about going to meet Kagami yesterday.” 

Alya was silent. 

“Alya? What’s wrong?” Worried, Nino put a hand around his girlfriend’s shoulder, care and concern shining through his honest eyes. 

“If... If Marinette doesn’t get jealous or biased over someone who also likes Adrien...” Alya started quietly, eyes still fixed on the two girls, “Then why was she so against Lila?” 

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

“Mlle. Bustier?” The teacher looked up at the voice of her favourite student. Fondly, she smiled. Marinette had finally seen the light and changed her ways, becoming the helpful, generous, kind Marinette that served as a great example for her peers. “May I make an announcement before class ends?” 

“Of course, dear.” Mlle. Bustier gave permission instantly— Marinette was taking up the reins of leadership again! The teacher couldn’t help but do a happy dance internally. 

“I have an announcement to make, so if everyone could listen, I’d be really thankful.” Marinette started, her clear blue eyes meeting those of her classmates. 

She took a deep breath. This is it. I’ve done what I needed to do, now it’s time to finish the job. 

“These past two days... Have been great,” Marinette started wistfully. “I really missed hanging around everyone, just like we did before,” Before you all turned your backs on me and stabbed me when I wasn’t looking, “But I can’t deny— And neither can you— That the things that have happened... They had a really deep impact. And I’ve realised that I can’t just ignore that damage that has been done.” The damage that has been done to me. “So, for the better of everyone— I’ve decided that I... Will transfer classes.” 

It was as if an explosion had gone off in Mlle. Bustier’s classroom. 

“Girl! You can’t do that!” Alya exclaimed in dismay, “We can fix things! Everything has been going well these few days, haven’t they?” 

“Dudette! Honestly, we forgive you.” Nino sighed, “Things just aren’t the same if you’re not here anymore.” 

Adrien didn’t say a word, but the imploring gaze he wore said enough. Please don’t leave me here alone. We promised we’d fight together, right? As long as both of us know... 

Marinette held her hand up to silence them, and the classroom, just as swiftly, became the deadly silence that followed post-disaster. “I understand. But once again, this is for the better,” — Of my mental health, “I’ve talked to Mlle. Mendeliev, and she’s agreed to take me in. I believe that once the changes have taken place, we can all grow more freely without restrictions.” 

In the corner, Mlle. Bustier was tearing up and dabbing at her eyes with her sleeve. 

“Mlle. Bustier,” Marinette turned to her teacher, no malice in her eyes. “I’ll be under Mlle. Mendeliev’s care now.” 

“Marinette...” The teacher sobbed quietly, with Chloe shooting her a look of disgust from the front row. 

“It’s not going to be easy for any of us,” Marinette turned back to the class, “But with time, I’m sure we will all prosper. Especially since you will now be under the care of our one and only Lila Rossi.” 

Adrien looked like someone had just killed a puppy in front of him. 

“Since I am the current class president, I thought I’d pass on the duties onto the most capable person in our class.” Marinette explained warmly, never moving her gaze away from the bewildered Lila. “Lila has the most connections in our class out of all of us, and she’s met so many CEOs and entrepreneurs that she must know a lot about organising and planning. I’m sure you can do it, Lila, but...” She paused. “You can handle it, right?” 

“Y— Yeah. Of course.” Lila stuttered. 

“You promised the class that you’d get BTS to perform for the year-end fundraiser since you were supposed to be in an arranged marriage with their youngest member, Jungkook.” Marinette continued, God I am enjoying myself too much honestly, but I ain’t going to stop now, “And you said you could convince your godfather, Bruce Wayne, to allow the class to go to Wayne Enterprises for this year’s class trip.” 

“She said she could convince Tony Hawk to give me an internship, too!” Alix chipped in. 

“And that she’d bring me along the next time Prince Ali asks for her help for a charity cause!” Rose smiled. 

“She said she’d introduce me to the CEO of Graham Films!” Nino’s eyes shone at the idea. 

The class continued to talk all over one another until Marinette silenced them once more. “Now, now. Let’s not overwhelm Lila. We wouldn’t want her to be overworked or to feel like the expectations are set too high, right?” 

The class agreed, nodding along. 

Marinette made eye contact with Lila, offering her a sweet smile as she did so. Lila, on the other hand, had no taste for such politeness. Instead, she straight-out glared at the former class president. 

This is your problem now. 

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

“Marinette! I was hoping to catch you before you went home,” Alya panted, having been able to find the bluenette in the locker room before the designer slipped out of her reach. “You... You’re really serious about leaving?” 

“Yeah.” Smiled Marinette, organising her textbooks into her bag, dusting down her skirt. Noticing Alya’s crestfallen expression, she took the initiative to continue the conversation. “Is there anything else, Alya?” 

“Did you... Did you really hate Lila because she liked Adrien, too?” The reporter asked somewhat timidly. 

Marinette giggled. Normally, when the girl giggled, you could hear a gentle tinkling of wind chimes— But at that moment, Alya heard the freezing winds on Mount Everest instead. “Don’t be silly, Alya. All this over a boy? Besides, I’m over him.” 

“Then...” Alya swallowed difficulty. “Lila... Really was lying this whole time?” 

The gaze that swept across the reporter was stone cold, and it made Alya feel as if she was dangling over a valley of jagged rocks. “What do you think, Alya?” Even so, the bluenette maintained a sweet smile. 

“She was. She was lying the whole time.” Alya suddenly felt as if she had a shortness of air. “This whole time—” 

“Oh, good for you. You finally learned how to see further than one feet in front of you.” Marinette hummed. “I’m proud of you, really. But I’m afraid that I don’t have the time to listen to you slowly come to conclusions after I’ve tried making you see sense for the past half a year. I tried to stop you from ruining your futures, but I guess determination was always one of your good traits.” 

Alya slipped to the floor, having lost the feeling in her legs. She placed one hand against the lockers for support as she shook, weakly looking up at the girl who she was once so proud to call her ‘best friend’. 

“Marinette?” Kagami’s voice rang through the room, indicating that the girl was waiting at the doorway. “You said you were heading to Bourgeois’s hotel after school— Would you like a ride?” 

“That’d be nice, Kagami. A moment.” The designer looked down at her friend and smiled, albeit a little sadly this time— And then she lowered her voice. 

“Determination was always one of your good traits.” 

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

“Marinette,” Adrien perked up at the sight of the bluenette leaving the school doors— Side by side with Kagami, who looked ready to draw a sword and start a duel then and there. 

“This’ll just take a minute, ‘Gami.” Marinette reassured, gently patting her friend’s arm. “Why don’t you get in the car first? It looks like it’s going to rain.” 

Reluctantly, Kagami nodded. “Alright.” Warily, the fencer stepped down the stairs and into the car— But even as she sat in the vehicle, she watched over her fellow bluenette like a hawk, ready to jump out and challenge the blonde if the situation called for it. 

Adrien rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, not quite knowing what to say. Luckily for him, the designer decided to start the conversation. 

“I just wanted to say thank you.” Marinette smiled softly. A few months ago, when she looked at Adrien, she would see the kind, generous, pure-hearted boy with the finest golden hair and the brightest green eyes. Now? All she saw was a spineless, sheltered, passive child that was afraid of confrontations. 

“For what?” Adrien looked at Marinette, and no longer did he see the cute, pigtail-adorning girl that would blush fiercely everytime he tried to talk to her. Instead, he saw a beautiful, young woman, a rock that had pulled through all the odds to become a vibrant, iridescent diamond. 

Marinette was glowing with confidence, her presence diffusing into the air around her and triggering eyes to look up every time she walked by. There was something about the way she held herself that just made the woman demand awe and respect from those that crossed her path. The old ‘Clumsinette’ had been shed like an old snake skin to reveal a treasure, a better version of the bluenette that had always been waiting for her time to come. 

Bluebell eyes met green ones just as rain began to patter down onto the streets of Paris. Marinette glanced up slightly, not at all bothered as she smoothly retrieved an umbrella from her bag, holding it out for the blonde to take. A flush of deja vu burst through Adrien’s veins and through his skin as he took it with a mumbled thanks, eyes blown wide as Marinette let loose her hair from her ponytail, pulling her blazer over her head to avoid getting her head wet. 

Adrien could only gape as Marinette uttered familiar words back to him, a knowing smile dancing across her lips as she ran off into the rain as if an invisible weight had been lifted off her shoulders. The bluenette looked lighter, brighter, ready to take flight and soar towards the success that her crops of hard work had finally started to bear. Before the blonde model knew it, Marinette Dupain-Cheng had slipped out of his grip, already spreading her multi-coloured wings to land among the stars. 

“Thank you for telling me to take the high road.”  

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

this was both satisfying and tiring to write... 

[thedarkplume]

Hey, guys I hope everyone's day is going spectacular! As you all know, today is Chris Evans 40th birthday!! I wanted to do something special for such a special day. Thus, I have compiled a list of my absolute favorite stories written for Chris Evans's characters.

Be advised, however, some of these are dubious consent, non-con, daddy kink, spitting, squirting, oral m/f receiving, creampie, anal, and all other manner of kinks I did not realize I enjoyed until joining the site.

It took me a very long time to compile this list and I may have to do some for Sebastian Stan later since some people want to cancel him. But we're not going to talk about that right now.

Here is a list of some of my absolute favorite Chris Evans stories in no particular order.

Golden Boy (Dark!Steve Rogers) - @angrythingstarlight

What sets this one apart from the rest of her stories, is that there's a deep resentment from Steve to Bucky in the very beginning of their friendship.

What The King Has (Soft!Dark Steve Rogers) - @sincerelythedarkside

I just read this one this morning. This was sooo good guys!

Hidden Solace (Andy Barber) - @ozarkthedog

This was difficult. I kept thinking I'd pick Reparations or Cock Worship, but Andy being a little touch starved did it for me.

Burning Desire (Andy, Steve & Ransom as Triplets) - @sinner-as-saint

She really gives you the best of 3 worlds here!

Ticking Clock (Dark!Andy Barber) - @syntheticavenger

Another tough choice. Synth comes straight for your heart and vagina, and you'll love her for it!

Stealth (Steve Rogers) - @afriendlyblackhottie

I may have bitten off more than I can chew, guys! It's so hard picking just one because there's nothing she's written that I can say is not one of my favorites. I'm telling you, get some wine or your favorite drink (alcoholic or not), put your feet up, and enjoy this lovely lady's artistry!

Back Rooms (punk!Me from Playing It Cool) - @fineanddandy

Not only did she use the fabulous @nix-akimbo edit for this one, but she makes you question if loyalty to a friend is worth walking away from a guy that genuinely wants you.

A Different Kind of Love (Alpha!Andy & Beta!Jake) - @river-soul

Can you imagine having both Jake and Andy in an A/B/O world? Read this story and you won't have to imagine!

Wear Me Down (Ari Levinson) - @navybrat817

Her fight is commendable, but you can't fight fate!

The Valentine's Cock Up (Steve Rogers) - @drabblewithfrannybarnes

God, this makes me laugh just thinking about it!

Original Sin (Dark!Bryce Langley) - @stargazingfangirl18

This had to be my hardest pick yet. What can I say about this ridiculously talented author? She made me lust over Robert Pronge which I promise was not an easy feat. I went kicking and screaming, but I'm here. Honorable Mention to her latest series Necessary Arrangements & Devil's Advocate.

Good Little Wife (Soft!Dark!Mob!Andy Barber) - @donutloverxo

All of her stories have a sort of soft and gentle reader that the men trip over themselves to take care of. I love it!

Goodbye Again (Endgame!Steve Rogers & Avengers!Steve Rogers) - @sweetlyscared

I can go on all day about how much I love this story! The emotions, the love, the loss, gah!!! I'll never not reblog this story.

Snowed In (Ransom Drysdale) - @the-iceni-bitch

Another author who has me lusting over Robert Pronge! I love her Ransom stories, beginning with Snowed In, because while he's still an ass, his girl gives it back just as easily.

Renewing Vows (Dark!Steve Rogers) - @gotnofucks

Dibs is one of my favorite authors. She's one of the few authors on this site that when you read her stories, especially the dark ones, you feel the obsession and single-minded desire to possess you no matter the circumstances. I love how she incorporates her culture in some of her stories as well, particularly the Happily Ever After series. You know it's wrong, but seeing the Avengers in their desi apparel still makes me go, "aww! They really want to make her feel welcomed!" P.S. I really, really came close to choosing Murder at the Whorehouse!

Dark Assassin (Dark!Silverfox!Steve Rogers) - @kleohoneyao3

It took me forever to find this story again. I've always been attracted to older men, but Silverfox!Steve is the goat! My second favorite is Of the Earth.

Little Red series (Steve/Curtis/Andy/Ransom/Johnny) - @autumnrose40

This proud Omega always gives you the best C. Evans characters stories. And she's not afraid to push boundaries with different species(werewolves, mermen, octogods, etc). I'm always so happy to see she's posted something.

Creamsicle (Robert Pronge & Dark!Andy Barber) - @sapphirescrolls

I don't think I need to list Robert as dark, do I??? While she has a cornucopia of dark writings, this is my favorite!

I Have Questions (Steve Rogers) - @royallyprincesslilly

Accidentally dirty-talking Steve Rogers? Hell yeah!

Unhappily Married (Dark!Steve Rogers) - @cherienymphe

This is a wonderfully talented dark writer. I almost chose Twice Bitten several times because (1) she writes vampires the way they're meant to be written, and (2) Steve is so unapologetically hot and cold with the reader it makes me weep. But I do love kids (set in fiction only) and poor Nathan needs a real mother!

Hirsute (Werewolf!Andy Barber) - @avintagekiss24

Whew! This was tough. I literally love all her stories, particularly Blue Ocean Floor and her latest, 'with the weight of the world at the tips of my fingers.' There's a sleek elegance to her writing that is unmatched.

Let Me Teach You (Jake Jensen) - @vannybarber

Jake Jensen does not get enough love. Luckily, he's starting to come up. This writer gives him all the love and appreciation he deserves with this story.

Tell Me You Love Me (Steve Rogers) - @lotusss-flowerbomb

We all have pasts, but if you're going to let your co-workers get drunk around your girl, give her a heads up that you may or may not have hooked up with the gorgeous red-haired spy. Loved this so much!!

Mr. and Mrs. Ari Levinson Invite You to...the Worst Wedding. Ever. (Mob!Ari Levinson) - @caffiend-queen

I've never seen Ari written like this. He's wild and crazy and utterly addicted to his new little wife.

I loved everything about this wedding, especially the author letting us see the different Jewish wedding traditions. If you didn't love Ari before this story, you will after this story!

This was fun you guys! And it gives me a point of reference in case I once again lose some of the stories listed here.

As an added bonus, here are some of my favorite @nix-akimbo edits: