#He swore to never do so again and goes to the watch tower for the entire month of April

[aflamboyanceofflamingos]

Due to the fact that I like to imagine Bruce as a white person who can't handle paprika I would like to present a senario:

The moring of April First, Tim and Steph are in the kitchen at 6:00 AM laughing to themsevles, Dick's cereal had been replaced with the knockoff versions he hates. As the pair goes to make their own bowls of normal cereal (taking from the stash they had secured a month prior to make sure no one did anything to it) they see the spice cabinet at the same time. One look at each other and they knew what they had to do.

5 minutes later Tim was walking down the steps of the batcave, where Bruce was working on a case, looking extremely sleep deprived.

"Bruce? I made you a sandwich. You should really eat something." playing up the concered child as much as possible he placed the plate next to the man.

"Thank you Tim. Make sure you go to sleep beofre the sun goes up, okay?" Stpeh, who was waiting near the clock held in a snort. Bruce had even realized what day it was. This would be hilarous.

"Yeah, I was about to go up now. Good Night!" Tim raced back up the stairs and back into the hallway, right beofer breaking down into giggles, sending Steph into a fit of her own.

The look on Bruce face when he bit into the generously seasoned sandwich would forever be memorialized, as the security cameras had perfect view of the flaming red face of the Bat.

[sugutiva]

❝ THREE IS NEVER A CROWD ! ❞ — ST & SG.

ᥫ᭡. synopsis : walking in to find your two best friends making out on camera was no surprise to you at all— but finding yourself sandwiched between them surely was.

tags : smut, p in v, threesomes, geto has piercings, cam sex, oral sex ( f & m receiving ), fingering, slight handjob, spanking, squirting, creampie, cum facial or wtv it’s called, cursing, dirty talk, all lowercase intended, not proofread !

a/n : sugutiva posting twice in one month?! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و

if someone had told you that your two loser best friends who shit-talks about everyone and everything they encounter, uncannily bicker like an old married couple, and secretly watches porn together was behind a famous camboy account, you’d wouldn’t be surprise at the fact at all.

you had always suspected that the pair were equally fond of each other— no matter how much they tried to deny it. but there’s still some sort of shock once you find them sloppily making out on the bed you were supposed to be having a movie marathon on, with a live audience capturing their lewd movements.

they only break away from their overbearing kiss once the grocery bag filled to the brim falls out your hand, and spills it’s contents on the floor. cerulean and violet eyes stare holes into your motionless form, clearly processing the embarrassing situation.

oh. this was honestly the last thing you expected on a friday night.

“ satoru? suguru?” you utter, curling your eyebrow upwards in disbelief as you take in the scene infront you; there sits satoru on suguru’s lap with nothing on but boxer briefs, meanwhile suguru is situated underneath him with no shirt but a pair of baggy black sweatpants. despite satoru’s imposing figure, you still had an inkling that suguru was the real dominant one out of the duo.

“ shit. fuck— um, h-hey. . .” satoru greets you with a sheepish smile. the wait of reality truly settles in because you’ve never witnessed him being slightly ashamed for anything he did or does. he unlatches himself from suguru’s body but there’s no point, you’ve already seen what you’ve saw. “ i didn’t know you’d come over at all—“

“ it’s a friday night, satoru.” geto deadpans before facing you with a serene smile, like you hadn’t caught them in the act of doing something lewd. infront him, there’s dozens of comments rolling in, and your eye catches them. some asked them about who you were, if you were the girl they often talked about, or if they’ll do another threesome again, this time with you.

knowing they’d regularly talk about their viewers to you made your body flush all over with a sudden throbbing temptation.

“ so . . . you two are camboys? since when?” even though you swore you were in a state of surprise, your body must’ve moved by it’s self, seeing how you take a couple steps forward until your somewhat towering over their tall bodies. gojo looks at you with surprise before twisting to amusement, while geto keeps his expression serene.

“ you don’t sound too disgusted or surprised,” geto skillfully avoids your questions calmly, and you grow nervous under their combined observant gazes. they were prepared for you to outright judge them for their shameful shared account, but instead you don’t. in fact, you look intrigued. “ i could be wrong but, i think you want to join us.”

you grow quiet and break eye contact. it’s cute.

gojo stares at you with a teasing smile before grabbing your wrist to pull you over closer, he mumbles. “ you wanna fuck?”

you attempt to speak but nothing comes out. it’s like that for a few seconds, you staring at them in dumbfound as they wait seemingly patiently for your answer. “ i— w-with me? a threesome with . . . all three of us?”

“ yeah, i mean, that’s literally the point . . . of a threesome.” geto quips back with sass, and you roll your eyes.

the answer is yes, written in bold letters as your back meets the cushion of the bed they were once on moments ago. it feels expensive.

gojo goes over to the camera, positioning it in a good angle that where all thousands of their audience can see with you bare with your legs sprawled out, and geto in between them.

his hot breath fans over you already soaked cunt presented to him, narrowly flashing you that shining piercing stamped on his tongue. “ you hear that, princess?” he brings his thumb to gather your slick from your leaking entrance before smearing it on your erect clit— just begging for his attention. or maybe for the both of them at once. “ you hear your cunt singing loudly for me?” his thumb repeatedly flicks at your labia, ringing out deep squelching sounds.

“ suguruuu, don’t play with our food now,” satoru whines, making his way back over to the bed once he has the right set angle. he gets down on his knees next to his partner, pushing your right leg further to make room for him. “ god, ‘m staaarved. keep your legs spread like that— don’t move them at all.”

before you know it, their tongues are fall into an automatic rhythm while slurping and thrashing at your drenched entrance. words cannot describe how good they are at skillfully eating you out at the same time— distantly, it makes you wonder how many times they’ve done it before you came into the picture.

“ fuuuckk!” your mouth drops open, feeling each detail of their tongues slobbering over you, now at different paces. geto languidly tongue fucks your hole; his tongue reaches so impossibly deep inside that you feel the outline of the cool piercing brush against the heat of your hole. while gojo quickly flicks at your clit in rapid succession, strings of saliva coating his own chin, dripping down so messily that they meet with geto’s occupied wet muscle. “ deeper, sugu, deeeeper! wan’a f-feel your piercing!”

“ hmph, suguru’s not the only one eating this sloppy pussy out. or are you too dumb to feel the difference between our tongues?” sensing competition, satoru slurps your whole clit in his mouth. his head shifts up and down as if he was sucking against something else— his tongue flicks out his mouth, much slower this time, accompanied by more saliva coating your pearl, only to be sucked in at the same time his tongue pulls back into his warm mouth.

the sight is nothing short of vulgar, and you’re sure the paid watchers are getting way more than what they expected.

geto pulls back from your cunt, but you don’t get to whine about the lost contact of his tongue leaving your opening when he easily slips two of his thick fingers in, resulting in a loud popping noise, and an even louder moan from your mouth. “ tsk. yer’ such a try hard, satoru. turnin’ everything into a competition.”

“ so? we can’t have you hoggin’ her all for yourself now,” his speech is noticeably slurred due to sucking hungrily on your clit. his mouth detaches from your aching bud, just to deliver a slew of mean spanks to make it twitch under his harsh ministrations. “ ain’t that right, princess?”

the painful sticky contact catches you off guard completely before it quickly brings you back into waves of pleasure. taken aback, you jerk your body away, although you don’t get any where near far because of your hole getting mapped out, and gojo’s iron grip on your hip. the confusing pleasure-pain entanglement has you feeling beyond lightheaded.

“ shit! y-yes, satooru! i wan’ t-the both of you!” your hands flies down in an attempt to pull away the hands causing you extreme pleasure— more than what you can initially handle.

“ yeah. slapping her pussy so she can agree with you definitely wins you more brownie points.” suguru dryly notes, “ we’re gonna break her already.”

“ i’d like to see you do something about it, suguboo.” satoru voice cuts in, the enthusiasm peaking in his tone that suguru lacks.

of course they’d bicker while turning your brain mushy threw your overworked cunt.

“ mmph— ‘m gonna squirt!” you shriek out, your body curves into a outwardly arch— that looks sexy albeit painfully from the camera’s point of view.

suguru starts thrusting his fingers again, even faster than before. satoru’s head dips down to your clit to give it a spit filled kiss before lapping it up into his mouth entirely like before. a tight but slightly uncomfortable pressure builds in your lower stomach.

your surprised that your voice hasn’t given out, considering of how loud your moaning both of their names as they write their conjoined love letter over the expanse of your cunt. “ fuh— fuuccck . . . o-oh!”

your nimble fingers finds home in gojo’s pristine locks of hair. he nibbled on your clit abruptly, and that was your end. your body freezes in your arched position before breaking out into tremors as clear fluids squirts from your body.

“ how cute, our best friend has such a sloppy pussy on ‘er,” suguru’s voice purrs with amusement, watching intensely as the juices that sprays uncontrollably from your body coats the entire half of satoru’s lower face, with some reaching the duvets underneath your bodies.

your body collapses back down on the bed. there’s a brief pregnant pause in the room— you barely notice that it’s because of satoru swapping your juices that he held in his mouth into suguru’s in a deep kiss.

gojo uncharacteristically whines as geto grabs a fistful of his hair to tug him closer— this whiny boy cannot be the same person that just made you paint his face in your vigorous fluids. there’s a brief glimpse of their tongues twirling and touching each other’s, like how they did on your cunt moments ago. suguru pulls from the kiss while also pulling his drowned fingers from your hole, soundly. he presses the certain digits on satoru’s warm tongue, expecting him to suck on them.

which he does, with a submissive moan. “ suguruuuu,”

as they continue to make out, it makes you throb all over again.

satoru chases after his fingers once suguru pulls them away. his brattiness is short lived when suguru yanks his hair to make him face your wrecked form. “ ah ah, don’t be greedy now. we still have a pussy to break again.”

the dynamic assigned with their pornographic persona fits them perfectly— suguru is labeled as the no-nonsense top, while satoru is the bratty bottom that will crack under pressure if pushed enough— no wonder why they’re so famous.

your body is situated into the iconic doggystyle stance. you see the lap of satoru, his boxers briefs are saturated a shade darker than it originally was, credits to his sticky pre-cum making itself known. your hands slowly spring his cock free, and satoru sighs shakily from above you.

you licked your lips, staring at your best friend’s astonishing length. he stood tall, even though it slapped against his stomach, you could tell that it reached far past his belly button; his tip flushes an angry red along with a eye-catching pearly bead of cum that makes your pussy clench around nothing— for now. no doubt, the sheer size will have your jaw aching for days after.

“ no need to just ogle at it. ‘s all yours babe, heh.” gojo chuckles cockily, watching you gawk at his freed dick.

you had temporarily forget the owner of such a pretty cock, had such a blabbermouth.

you glare at him from underneath your eyelashes, you harden the tip of your tongue and push it against the vein bulging from his skin, trailing your tongue all the way upwards until your reaches his slightly swollen tip. there, you take the fat head in your mouth, giving it a harsh suck that makes satoru groan and throw his head back.

geto settles from behind you, giving your rounded ass a heartfelt squeeze before slapping the jiggly skin sternly. he stops to pump his own hardness as he slaps the tip against your sopping folds, noisily— this is how you figure out he has an prince albert’s piercing, when he’s close to using it to turn you drunk on both lingering cock’s. “ waiting on you, pretty girl.”

spreading your legs more, you push back against his base. the curve of his cock presses against your mound, a silent telling that you’re ready for him, and he takes it exactly like that when he suddenly sinks into your warm walls with no follow up warning.

oh god, is he fucking thick.

from the obvious feeling, you can tell that he has more girth to his cock— thicker than gojo’s, but not quite as long.

geto grunts, his gruff hands gripping tightly at your waist as he thrusts forward. his pierced bulbous tip immediately hammers into your sweet spot. the forceful pumps that he delivers to your much smaller body, has your stomach tightening with fulfilled hunger, causing you to mewl around gojo’s cock.

and the vibrating sensitivity is so dizzying to the latter. “ keep fuckin’ her jus like t-that,” his abs flexing and clenching in your field of vision. you hollow your cheeks in and relax the tight muscles in your throat, so you can consume more than just his meaty head. “ oh fuuuuck, baby. you’ve got such a d-deadly throat on ya,”

“ don’t tell me you’re going to cum already now.” geto teases, composedly watching gojo’s reactions. he’s since then propped one leg up on the bed, diving deeper into your pussy even further. “ hey. once his tip starts twitching he’s about to—“

“ shut the f-fuck up,” his strained voice doesn’t come off sternly than what he expected as you trail your tongue down, leading to his tender balls. “ n-not yet— can’t do that, ‘m gonna cum too early!” you pay his words no mind as your hand moves up to stroke up and down on his copious length.

by now, you’re purely relying on geto’s strength and your other hand placed on gojo’s firm thigh to keep you upright. geto leans forward, his chest pressed against your back while the hands once grabbing and slapping at your plump flesh strains your hips. the new position creates more of an absolute mess out of you, along with the heavy balls stuffed in your mouth.

you push back against him every time you feel his pelvis collide with your forgotten clit in sticky thrusts, the contact gives you a distant amount of pleasure but it’s not near enough. “ you desperate for something? how bout you ask me first, then i’ll make this pussy drown my cock.

a tease is the perfect word to describe geto— he knows what you want, but still decided to make you spell it out for him. painstakingly.

“ i want you to t-touch me,” he gives your body a jagged thrust. he wanted more, for you to be more specific. you grumble before complying. “ i w-want you to touch my clit, suguru, pleaseee!”

his hand creeps in between your parted thighs, fingers toying with your throbbing clit in fast paced, tight circles to match the speed of his own hips. “ like this? you like havin’ your clit played with while you give your other best friend head?” his voice is pitched an octave lower pressed to your ear, the purring sensation makes you push back against him, searching for your pending orgasm. “ heh. what a greedy slut for cock.”

“ ‘m gonna cum soon, princess.” gojo jaw clenches as he breathes out, nostrils slightly flaring due to the doubled pleasure; your hand pulls and twists in up and down motions on his cock, your saliva helps guides your hand as your mouth is currently occupied with him. he doesn’t let you stop or pull away even for a moment as his fingers cards through the locks of your hair, pulling and pushing them closer. “ c-close your eyes, baby. wan’a paint your pretty face in my cum for the viewers.”

you had briefly forgotten that all of your obscene doings are being captured. dozens and dozens of donations roll in, but you can’t focus on that. not when your senses are clouded with only impure thoughts of your two best friends.

you listen to gojo’s order— and you’re glad because moments later, galloons of his sticky cum paints your face in a translucent base. “ g-good girl, oohhh, you look so pretty like this for m-me.” he cups your face with one hand, while smearing the leaking slit of his tip against your lips. your tongue dips out to lick the bitter yet somehow sweet substance.

the black haired, determined man pulls at your arms, fucking into you faster, initiating broken gasps to leave your throat with every push. “ suguruuu, ‘m so close. i . . . fuuuck, gonna cum!”

“ you like it rough, yeah?” he gives you another awakening thrust, and that’s your end. your head throws back against his broad shoulder and he turns his head to latch on your neck.

but he still doesn’t relent. not until he comes next.

making your head bobble and your pleasure quickly bleed into overstimulation, until your restricting walls triggers his own climax. with a harsh bite on your neck; geto cums, while consuming down his pornographic moans. and it’s a plentiful amount.

“ o-oh shit.” his jaw ached from how hard it was clenched and the muscles in his thighs flex. his fingers on your clit slow, eventually dropping their pace “ yer’ so t-tight. my dick feels like it’s going to fall o-off . . .”

his cum is so warm and it makes you feel full inside, he ruts his hips up erratically to make broken hiccups escape your mouth before he eventually stops.

the salacious mood calms down as you’re busy catching your breath with the weight of geto on top of you— you don’t even realize the camera is in your face until the familiar notification sounds are too close up.

bleary-eyed, you looked into the camera from under your eyelashes. the seductive scene of satoru’s sticky cum covering your face couldn’t be anymore intoxicating to ingest.

“ i think we have more room for another person,” gojo’s cerulean eyes meets his companion’s. “ what d’ya think, suguru?”

[cubitodragon-moved]

Yesterday Mike added more fuel to my “Tubbo is bugged” theory and it’s making me extra worried about what’s going to happen this week LOL.

This post is rambly and long, so I’m sticking things behind a cut!

Mike’s memories of the last 3+ weeks are scrambled and foggy; an interrupted El Quackity treatment? Unclear. But between saying he doesn’t remember anything and then spouting off pro-Federation propaganda (something his anarchist ass would never willingly do!) and fiercely trying to pin blame to Fit as a traitor, a comment by him during one of the questioning sessions stood out to me.

When Fit asked who told him his janitor duties were fake/a front, that he couldn’t be trusted, he said Cucurucho.

We and FitMC know that the Feds are sus of Fit, but they’ve had no actual concrete evidence that he’s been misusing his position to obtain information. And yet now Cucurucho, supposedly, is informing Mike of this so called betrayal?

If we think back to the prison cleanup in August, there was a room that had a chess board map on the wall. Only two pieces were present: a queen and a pawn. And the pawn was positioned on a clear way to indicate it’s meant to represent Fit. A warning - possibly to Fit from the ghost entity in the Prison (or someone in a neighbouring pocket dimension, if recent ruminations and theories on the server have any legs) that aided Pac and Mike, OR the Federation itself, reminding him of who has the power and who is always watching.

But they have yet to take any action. And always praised his work when completed.

Enter: Tubbo. Who arrived on the Island as part of a group rescued from a mysterious location. One with lots of strange blocks, code-eggs, frozen floors and who himself was frozen away. Shortly after, Mike and Pac ventured back to that location to explore, and when he entered the tower, the floor vanished and Mike fell. Fell down into a pool of water at the bottom of a trap lined in black concrete, and then frozen.

During Mike’s absence, Tubbo has gotten to know the “morning crew”, has gotten up in everyone’s business. I’ve outlined some highlights in another post. But more recently, every time he talks to Fit about his cleaning job, he’s picked at it again and again. Freaks out over the badge and keycard - especially over the keycard. (This feels important, for more than just Tubbo’s excuses of it being bugged, but I can’t put my finger on why, yet.). Tubbo whines when Fit won’t give him direct insight, or tell him detailed specifics on what he’s found on the job. Fit has made it clear he will not jeopardise his position to satisfy Tubbo’s need to meta-game win over the system to know everything, resulting in accusations, and Tubbo commenting privately to his own chat that this makes Fit untrustworthy in his eyes. Tubbo has been careless with some of his questions. They’ve been asked topside, sideways comments uttered with side eye. He wants to KNOW what Fit is after.

And Fit did spill to Tubbo that he’s not just there for the obvious. Yes, He IS looking for something. Yeah, he IS trying to find things out about the Codes, the Eggs, and the Federation - he wants his beautiful baby boy (made in Heaven by God Himself) back home safe and sound.

But this has not been successful, never mind the long absence of any work in the last few weeks..and we the viewers know that things he has found have been incomplete, or need more time to cook before he goes to others with evidence. Fit is meticulous, his life on 2B2T trained this into him in order to survive. You don’t last 10 years in an anarchy wasteland without being prepared. Better and safer to leave things unsaid than having to walk them back later. And there’s no point in sharing what isn’t relevant to the matter at hand.

And now Mike - who Fit calls friend, who he bonded with, who he swore to help locate Walter Bob with - said Cucurucho told him that Fit was a traitor, and wasn’t looking for what he said he was, even point blank accused him of lying yesterday about what he’s looking for. And when pressed about what he’d found so far when on janitor duty, Fit had to admit that no, he hadn’t found anything related to the Eggs or the Code.

Mike seemed to take that as proof of his lying about what he’s doing. That what he was told was right. But admitting to a lack of success doesn’t make one a liar. And Fit telling him he found nothing is also a smart play - lose lips sink ships, and better to be thought incompetent. Especially if the Federation are now trying to flush you - and perhaps your ties to your employer, outside the island - out into the open.

The Federation did not know about Ramón’s furnaces until Tubbo did. And they didn’t know Fit was in it for more than the obvious until he spoke with Tubbo. They can’t get Tubbo to take on Fit, but they can use a different pawn they have on the board instead.

I may well be completely off base. And I’ll be delighted if I am. It’s been so much fun to theorise about the lore on QSMP! But mark my words, we need to pay much more attention over the next 48 hours. And who knows what everyone will come back to in a week’s time?

[argisthebulwark]

so so so I was on my way to work this morning blasting music right. not paying any particular attention to anything, just letting my playlist shuffle through bc I still had major fog brain and didn't think of anything past hitting play and what not.

Well suddenly mantra by bring me the horizon came on and it snapped me awake, particularly the part right after the second chorus that goes like "I know it doesn't make a lot of sense, all I'm asking for's a little bit of faith" bc my brain was like !!! major miraak and ldb vibes holy shit (which btw this entire blog is responsible for my new obsession with him so thanks)

like that part just hits soooo well for that. the lbd asking miraak to just have faith in them!!! and leave apocrypha with them. I had it on repeat for hours today and it's just been stuck it my head for the rest

aaa!! i don't usually listen to new BMTH but you're so right about this song. it's been added to my Miraak playlist. it goes so well. i'll link it here for anyone who wants to listen

"I promise I can save you."

The Last Dragonborn's words rattled Miraak's bones. Their hand was covered in blood and ink when they thrust it toward him. Eyes full of desperation watched his every move over the Black Book sitting open in their lap, dark magic whirling and twisting over its pages.

He couldn't trust them. They were his enemy. He belonged in Apocrypha even if it crumbled. He wanted nothing more than to squash their obnoxious hopefulness. He couldn't be saved, didn't know if he wanted to be.

"Close your eyes and listen carefully, Dragonborn." Miraak put every ounce of hatred into his words. They didn't even flinch. "I am bound to this realm. You cannot save me."

"I'm the only one that can save you." Their hand grabbed his, warm skin sticking together and Miraak was disgusted by the way his heart leapt. He'd stomped down his feelings for so long. He wouldn't allow himself to feel that way about the Last Dragonborn.

"How do you expect to do this?" That damned smile was on their face at his words. He knew he'd lost to them yet again. He had spent lifetimes building himself into an unbeatable foe but failed time and time again when met with the Last Dragonborn.

"I know it doesn't make a lot of sense." They babbled and gripped his hand so tight he swore he'd lose feeling. "All I'm asking for is a little bit of faith."

Their words took his breath away. The Book's green glow cast eerie shadows across the Last Dragonborn's face when they looked over at him and Miraak caught a glance of what they could have been. He imagined them at his side at the height of his power, matching thrones in his palace, the unstoppable force they could have become had they met under different circumstances.

"Can you believe in me?"

It's so easy to believe in them. Miraak felt himself nodding before he could think better of it. Apocrypha's seas beat against their platform and for the first time in ages he felt hope. It was a dangerous feeling but the Last Dragonborn gave him hope.

The world turned upside down. Miraak was nauseous when he tumbled through empty space, flashes of green and black stealing his vision when he succumbed to the power of the Black Book. The Last Dragonborn clung to his hand through it all. They never let him go.

Landing back on Skyrim knocked the air from his lungs. The bright sun overhead blinded him and old smells he'd long forgotten filled his nose. Trees towered overhead and Miraak waited for his vision to stop swirling.

Despite his worst fears the Last Dragonborn never let go of Miraak's hand. They squeezed his fingers to call his attention. He hesitated - his mask had been lost in their last battle. He wasn't sure what they saw when they looked at his face, if he'd become some horrible monster like the Seekers.

Their eyes crinkled when they smiled up at him. Miraak knew he was staring but couldn't help himself - the grime covering their face did nothing to stop his heart from hammering. He even felt a bit guilty for leaving so many wounds on them.

"How did you do that?" He whispered, trying to figure out how they'd cast a calming or persuasion enchantment without him noticing. He knew the truth but had to bury it. He couldn't have feelings for the Last Dragonborn. Absolutely not.

"Do what?" They laughed, rolling closer to Miraak over the dirty ground of whatever forest they'd landed in. "I just talked to you. You're the one that listened."

They were dangerous. Far too charismatic for their own good. Miraak's heart leapt when the Dragonborn leaned close to him, studying his face. They didn't seem horrified so it couldn't be too bad, though he didn't feel inclined to find a mirror anytime soon.

"You're too persuasive." Miraak felt himself smiling, a plan already forming in his mind. His last plot had only failed because he was working against the Last Dragonborn, but on the same side they could conquer everything. "Do you want to start a cult with me?"

[libidomechanica]

Untitled Poem # 12711

A sonnet sequence

               First Stanza

Your kiss Out in the boatmen, too engulfed as the turret whence a tower in green isle in that be singing an impossible to melt as iced stream: her own lute thought that they died. Catch the widow and fearless bride, my Madeline, to no rude infidel. All you want me, sound of it. I will never ranging, I adore my body this queen lily and sternly. Well—’t is well to wish thee so loved, whoever was! To send or save, i’m sure ye will do whatever you mean! Stars my questions. An impossible it is to breathe. And lucent syrops, tinct with sick unto dying but you.

               Second Stanza

And breathless, dumb till I but ashes cold. Why then the ringing next shall the conceit did melt me down these delight, with powers of sweet tears of ours. Time to grieue me worse, in sweet: meantime we two will last to be you probably should turn the unborn child rightways in that I can see all hearts up, dread of the roof-tree fall. Saving of you, as he takes his face, counting faerily and the lady of water, rising day; low on the robin’s breast, whom he swore he loves It’s your hand to the iron porch, they grieve that his life were young and trying tone: the halflight fades out from you, I engraft you new.

               Third Stanza

Every gate is the worst of all but us three I am undecided to allot each person, any commonwealth of globed peonies; or if thy days. And everything else is staring at you, chopping a carcanet of maiden eyes divine, Thy beauty show, the other’s eyes; so mus’d awhile she doesn’t respond, I know how change. Thou shalt hear the bower where meaning on yesterday. I glad was of his noon. You into my heart the dancers dancing in a silver cross a sulphuric lake in a room of wool and leap the range and they employ at news of purity.

               Fourth Stanza

To faint in thine eyes, and see God opening the proudest sail doth come to quench the scepter of your voice shall: then from her sense, that Angela was feeling away so soon; all night goes or on the same degrees through ashes cold. The Owl and the night have the heau’n of Stellas rayes, reason, in faith may never ranging, I adore that we may plant again. As thought, until the morning rose, of which all order fill’d his finger, now for me the rain is gone down, all cates and while Porphyro upon holy days: your memory; then there’s a hollow roaring from things be, a long farewell!

               Fifth Stanza

To send or save, i’m sure victorian poet called The Witch. Do not go gentle into the young lord-lover, what an unthrift in the chords that you hold in your side watching house did they raced, and kept unused, the curtains: ’twas a midnight’s startings, crying, he hunts in dreams, and so life changing happier things are loved of morning or affright a feeble soul? Other lands to the diurnal Sun’s decline: within a dream, the self-approving glow, of conscious Honour’s part; alas, I found, you did exceed the basest jewel will bleede; but knowne worth in its maze of changing rookery home.

               Sixth Stanza

That is all which my words one long result of my skin, love pricked together pray, and let me carry a ten-foot scarf, let me examine the alphabet, Logos appear which in your forehead came a colour and colour and a day, to the closet crept, half-hidden, like ring-dove fray’d an ancient Beadsman’s fingers in the hand you release their youthful joys, tho’ there sure will be well enough. In sort of wakeful swoon, perplex’d she lay, young lion plaid, mine own and you were probably broke the scepter of a train in the bird o’er lustrous salvers in any line the sentimental farce!

               Seventh Stanza

I lay on the lips was to me; the world. To feel the earth’s greater, purer, bright in human game: imagination some part, and lost confus’d, I there did glow. Over your brain: woman in Beijing buys for his own quickened ear. Your fantasy of truth, of lasting union—slashing away my body is, and the last line of your wit and sang to a shrewish tongue! ’ Have seen to bleed, and hand is ever after skin from the spring, his lady’s purpose, easy thing them as the sunny Summer, the yellow- green, and hound, And the dark, if anything have almost too much; I lived in me.

               Eighth Stanza

Of the tribe of my though I knew ye not? Let’s live i’ th’ fire. For Madeline. On her peerless eyes. I am an animal. Can I part her finger on their hearts your mind spills through many a woe, It’s your Valentine? Quickened ear. What fainting my ground. Came many a tiptoe, amorous cavalier, let in troubled streames, of strange to meet decay, cald it anew, and wooed Sleepe again, like ring-dove fray’d and fades, unseen of all his quiuer spend, but dares not love I’ve often spoken the basest jewel will be thy love. All night from my bosom, tho’ my mortal taint. Those who stand by.

               Ninth Stanza

Since life’s gay scenes must charm and sold. Upon the sun is going to take since you have that I never refuse, nor giue each door; and bears. But go, and demon, and all around, whoever was! Its little plum is what sighes her husband’s shape we know. If all the graue conceit of thought I found, you did tomorrow morn. Runs between the night, and the loves in sort of wakeful anguishingly sweet tremble under her feet, had come younger day; better salad ushering the chilly nest, or I will worthie to appeare, care shining in tune; till a silent as a tomb. Will I take my love.

               Tenth Stanza

When I clung to a safe level matting. As airy as the knock-kneed broom instead of a throbb’d no longer, a space opens where Homer’s spring, and as she hurried back retir’d; not cool’d by high disdain, with whom she had a fever late, they gain came many a dusky race. Let me study the casement high and triple-arch’d there let me lie entranc’d along the distance of sweet as I could not take pains to the western gate, Luke Havergal, there was by it trouble and more. I askéd a thing. So that I knew that you cannot raise your Here cursing, swearing nought but wait a sign!

               Eleventh Stanza

Even tonight, alone, I marry the bee-mouth sips: Ay, in them my passion were all accompts did clear; and wound was, greatest Gogmagogs, who dazzle us, whom I love me, cousin Amy, speak, and dry’d him, while the bliss to kiss; for ever down: holy and rose is blown. And the white lesions settle ones leapèd and love her, as I knew ye not melt, and faults are laid him down on you and made ye white wraith hair which thereon with busy fear. Then the ringing grooves of changing, all our many-tinkling fall, but Colin only looked upon the kindling, the sweet as drowsy Morphean amulet!

               Twelfth Stanza

Whoever was the play’d and vermeil dyed? Good time, so free a place! Mute, motions with tann’d antiquity, mine own self-loving heart. Upon his ear but for one moment in the moon, the morning appetite! But when I did Cupid see beauties which some may yet be the night, your walks have spent its novel force, something good and showers of ecstatic women striding to them thus; thou shalt taste the scornful ways; the painted new: speak our mind. Bitter, but one with fairy tales are painted new: speak our mind. Is this true shall dive, and the music, yearning like a makeless wife; the painted wing.

               Thirteenth Stanza

And blind with dim dreams awake, with panes of quaint device, half-hidden, like a noon-dew, wander far away, the hurt is not your mind that when he heap’d with me: such a one doth take my Muse and meek, she loves, queen lily and rose cries, on! I will tell, some time in wrangling sprite; these things went into that good night. I turned to dry bone. Somewhere between us, I am thinking of to passion boil’d and forehead of shame struck them thus; thou makest faults graced; the hallow’d hour was near at hand: she sigh’d and ogled, and hideous rage, as Lot’s fair acceptance, where lay the very door is barr’d with dew?

               Fourteenth Stanza

How many gazers might decrease their gods a brazen pillar high as the silver cross soft amethyst, emprison her peerless to have proved—would to God—for I hear; ’ and the grace and enticing refrain, the song of worth, what will rich attire creeps rustling to move or be tied to be sin which they have larks from field to follow heat running ring, all our many-tinkling fall, and trying tone: the halflight for heaven had spent its novel force, nor the days of honeysuckle that violence everywhere, this true shall wish I might be. As heaven seems holding and pushing his ashes prove.

               Fifteenth Stanza

Always it’s impossible tasks: Gather the violence ever at his right, because thou with panes of quince, which other. Where is but once I freezes, blood, and dream that it was! Since, thy gay morn of life o’ercast, chill it bore an apple brighter; and done your nectar, or no; or whether in part ’tis here. Than things, hungry ocean is, that you cannot choose but to golden keys. Till a silence fell with carven imag’ries and Joy, whose breast; in the dreamy, kind delights my mind that to think and you have? And bring for the blast before thee, Porphyro, all saints, and we cannot loue that you sing!

               Sixteenth Stanza

Breath, Julia, breathing, as I write this, curl up individual withers, waxen touches you with a sudden from times past its message sent into that good night. And shall do: for I impair not be scorn to me, saying, I have meant; my great and therefore thee, and there are the moralising Muse. Here cursing the dusk of the guinea helps the heart that all the debris of public grief, and cursed thee hast left behind a slowly whisper tell: her blue are there, where thy footstep of lost liberty that way, I have meant; my great where in the room, I will take some part, and her and ever, mine.

               Seventeenth Stanza

So I triumph’d ere my passions lie; vertues gold must not grieved it on its hinges groans of buried dust of living fame, whose tomb fair Love, and so it chanc’d, for its poisonous wine; nor suffer tyrannie; and nothingness? Not in vain o tell ye what befell ye: cupid and dainties, ever eager- eyed, It’s your hand to die. Save again; as when, a callow youth before the midnight, my love, hatred, joy, or fear to weare, nor giue each speech. Me to stray; pale, lattic’d, chill, and opens but to golden fringe upon your hip; the soul, whole centuries of magic shore. They are eating all the comfort?

               Eighteenth Stanza

Only used fifty-nine today. As a beautiful friends, go your only signs of progress? Will hardly seem worth will dignify our first embrace. I think two people together prest, and hideous rage, as Lot’s fair acceptance, sir, creates the entertainment perfect, not this, that his right, alone, I marry the bed. And made ye white wraith hair blown back, and he scarce could see; saw the Vision of the light of the brooks, not with a beck ye shall soar. Would to God— for I had loved so slight a peerless eyes. And drown these words with their love, and worship all unseen; perchance speak, and woe is mine!

               Nineteenth Stanza

You will come: of partridge, pheasant, woodcock, of whispers to such length burst all the glass of her, as I went to rest, a way they fall; but go, and dream even tonight. Nor sister either way he made me, feele his frosted breath finds you gone. Of Petrarch wept, and, from the spring sweets of love. She dancers dancing, life and be thy widow’d marriage-pillows, to the light with carven imag’ries My Madeline. Take this, curl up individually like to a dragons all around, and groans. And an entomologist in Prague sign their love, defiance, hate, and in the Friendship’s truest heart.

               Twentieth Stanza

Thirty-two and a shrine, all the moment before me, and slices of time pass’d; and pin’d forehead to be gay. Want to love I will, till nobler weal or woe.; Saying, Mercy, Porphyro, she seem’d taking flight for yourself—first The misery is greatest Gogmagogs, who dazzle us, whom we call the spring; as quick a growth to mine, are all but—nothing the cost, for the offering if that coy girl who smiles, and in the waters did we watch the window a funnel of yellow me, child, or in many words on a bed of daffodil sky, to faint in the superior dust-of-sleep.

               Twenty-first Stanza

Work hard and chorus bland: through ashes cold. But in the worst was thought. Had a peach from the spring, and his dames viewed the soul of this: one is shifting pots on the West. Slowly whispering, his was harsh penance now for me the barren, barren, barren garden lake I stood, hid from annoy, alone within him to be wroth with them as noises too rude and fled. And the world willing earth in an upper pew. The red rose is blown. And turn, sole-thoughts, leaue the wonder that will one day beat ye so, as some did smart; I sawe that whenever a word to Turn thee grows and the low vibrating soul.

               Twenty-second Stanza

All the common-sense! Never give the page from a row of identical masks, Tiptoe up to a dew, fell downe-right blowes did in tract of time pass’d, like fires o’er the hundred-gated circuit of a great Orion sloping slowly to the sun is going to his on your smile did they strake thee from a censer old, and be the summer as long as I could thee hither by the mellow shade, and let the gate alone; I saw that you can send, or vainly spent, haunts me nigh by the melody;—in black, purgatorial rails: o, for they shall ever be clean again. Lambs might march of mine.

               Twenty-third Stanza

Old Angela was feelings and amber studs, all the world enjoys it; but beauty unespy’d, and lucent syrops, tinct with smiles, yet slays me with love? Miles and numbers such as blessed shape so true, no truths translated and doth fill the kettle-drum, and goosebumps lift, it’s your beck, or a lethal joke, The will have seen to bleed, fall, and of merriment and charioteer that, in default of Time, and I rejoicing, and sung: tho’ in her sighes, and the sleepers pass, and tho’ the twilight, alone, I marry the bee-mouth sips: Ay, in the basest jewel will storm of the Lorelei. And think what you cannot go gentle into the flames in rejoicing, old Time and throstle’s lay; of fruits, and he scarcely can discrie, while, with lower than to weep out that thoughtful Madeline, to no rude infidel. And sipping peacefully; the open casement high and tremble all for grief, or joy.

               Twenty-fourth Stanza

I thoughtful Madeline, said she, but even now to venture so: it fills me with me the lily white; good Angela, by thee if I read her sighes her so well enough fowl now be scarcely heard: her mat in Thailand, one is painting sets the jewel- print of your broad golden fringe upon the race is run. By such vnsuted speech a full point it at my temple, saying, she hobbled off with blinding not thro’ the men! Where thy dazling race onely vnto the plains, by the eye, or ear, or eyes, faith thou my old company; not that which I should my freedome still unchanging rookery home.

               Twenty-fifth Stanza

By one; they shall hear, ever lose a day. Climbs into a lute. For no apparent reason … From things, that every Muse and Taste, with eager eyes the flock in woolly fold: a gentle into the ringing thro’ me left so sweet tremble under a jonquil flowered spread a lawn besprinkled o’er His prayer with stars; there’s a fair Madeline began to challenge eyesight? Glide, gentle streams, goodnight What is not: you are the Bong-tree growing joy, Adieu’s last prayer with such a firefly under her feet, with a dribbed shot, loue gaue the solemn sea to the solemn fast the sweet tears as pearl.

               Twenty-sixth Stanza

I never a March-wind rushing in mind. I’ll tell, some time draws near that nobody can love things, hungry ocean is, the government has decided to all the dark hills echoèd. The flowers do fade and perfect, not the cabin, G minor Mozart on the filaments of alabaster. Doth fall to ear, to drink in notes and be a bud again. Men, my bride, my Madeline: quoth Porphyro took covert, pleas’d amain. Half anguish’d, threw warm gules on Madeline! Then for effusions, match’d with their brave expansion. And foison of the Unto dying but there is not: you are!

               Twenty-seventh Stanza

And of mine take this knows all the cobwebs with him to whom a hyacinth is dearer than I shall slumber, lapt in universal law. Some say thy father’s field, and at the field-mice are abroad, he cannot be bitter chance, except dread Jove think it enough for me the bed-side, where thy footsteps; and their rivers rage again; as when the current of many a woe, her blue as you, or anything: god slays Himself another skin from the thumb is large; their grace is run. Ask me why I send to your eyes, nor hear the fire, while, entoil’d in woolly fold: Anon his horse. The barren, barren garden of girls, and soon as I went to sea in a big houseleek’s head of a city great and give life in one to me, as from an age in one another man obtain, no dream, alas! How is it, Shadows! These tears; from annoy, even to Madeline’s chambers, blood, and I go.

               Twenty-eighth Stanza

Wandered away; to spirit, unaware: turning my age with four garages and daring palace shot its sides fingers of ecstatic women are singing it up like fires o’er the mire of Heaven with a huge empty flaggon by his silence and sore and away. Till you that thou issueless nighting upon deceased I than niggard truth in words. Nay more, and now unpossible up your fair eyes than both your report. The light of the year; then in his life? I probably didn’t want to love, in meaning lies. No one can explain it. And overswear the sun’s returning, the kettle-drum, and fearless bride, for ever like a wig. Will storm his heart and the house did heare. I that remorse which it fears to come. And what you hold in your shoes is heart, lost in jest, but that so sweet, so ripe a judgment, and lost in the sky yet reserved arm God’s help! The musk of the dreamy urn; farewell!

               Twenty-ninth Stanza

But Venus having seen his painting hopes still, hoping t’ have seen such interchange your Valentine? Light as fear in a witch’s life with Senses obiect so imbrace, as what you cannot loue; no, no, let him alone. And one fine morning’s dew, ne’er to be a precious stone when all you want. Love on a day, wise poets can in praise devise some did smart; I saw that you could be in NY for a centuries of magic sails, pilots of Paradise. And bear along with vases, to one Lady there, quoth Porphyro: O may I be for only a few special animal very rarely.

               Thirtieth Stanza

These pretty finger prest, her very side, far and wanton fields to wayward winter reckoning yields; a honey of thy sweet; and pain and the world-wide whisper its last wave by, crying him safe into the garden, Maud, I am here. To see thee old and so should perish’d; sweetly did she sits in chimney nook. A story of yew-berries, all eyes be muffled, or all the wood, I am here are clerks, the white rose went ill or good, nor laugh’d nor rewarded. I probably didn’t fix into that then? Earth’s greatest king call the dancers dancing in the phone directory by rote. Not at the light.

               Thirty-first Stanza

The longer than a cycle of Cathay. La lala la. Oblivion laid him down on Laura’s heart and tell me, Angela was feelings—she herself had suffer’d— Perish in thee growing colder. Find some, like to take way longer than all songs have lover’s endless deep reposed; when I perceive that there let me lie entrance makes me tast. Nor suffer’d—Perish in the cause more sweetheart mine, your mind. Where it ever so airy a tread, my heart was voluble, make not your hair. The Little Mermaid was able to melt as iced stream: It shall bloom the purpose. Cockpit of youth to meet.

               Thirty-second Stanza

I could blaze like Joshua’s moon color, one is paine mighty beauty unespy’d, Who feathers fright that’s lovely pallor which I can see all hearts your eyes, and be liege-lord of wit giuing wounds for souls can’t stop watching on the back of a turtle rest for me the bed there. And oft so clings to understood when Madeline’s chambers held barbarian lower feelings and amber studs, all the world spin for effusions, let none of this: one is wiping the music, yearning for that will come anymore. And lucent syrops, tinct with sick unto dying but that remorse which they by: alas!

               Thirty-third Stanza

Is poor guides the balustrade, if one of your smell, yet there, where she looked, where Love his stretching red sunset through to allot each person shouts for yourself in single un- green electron never comes in rejoicing, and sung: tho’ in her breathe, will whisper tell: whose strength doth bear, my saucy bark inferior far to his prayers forth thinned newfragile yellow peels, my stinging shreds. Rather the supper, for thee. And that good night; and dearest gift of Heaven with unwillingly impart: o, lest thy heart confers with me did smart; impossible tasks: Gather this couple still haue speld.

               Thirty-fourth Stanza

Like phantoms, into the planet of Love increase, cheered and faults graced; Tis dark: quick a growth to meet. ’ Airy navies grappling in your eyes, and to fold when rivers. Thou do’st go hence unto thy everlasting day; low on the sapphire heaven, and a light, feare to offence, save one old beldame start: and back returns for which wanton lapwing gets himself with every one hundred and they shall wish, betide her weal or woe. Of chalk, the light at Riverside: the moon, with wine. To make me clean any more— pulling door-bells to remember, I lay on the place, and scorn, haunts me night, and play.

               Thirty-fifth Stanza

I give for Charlotte was awake, and thinke so still, hoping t’ have seen such sort as, thou being to the iron porch, they gain to faint in the halflight tracing your generous, delicates he heap’d upon her face. And the while: Ah! The sound of merriment and check’d even now, even to Madeline, St. Words, beset with rain or hail, or fire or snow; for the mind? The wheel echoes away, the world enjoys it; but beauty’s gone. So ripe a judgment, and hurl their courses run; if human game: imagination urging appear which fair Maid, and Loue in me can nothing that good night.

               Thirty-sixth Stanza

Go to the soul is arrowy to the mutes, the humble as though seen of all but— nothing to recite what merit lived in me no means can move to come to you as a beauties, lily whisper throat in vain the twilight wait a silence. To think how they made a dim, silver drips shimmering comes and rose, The brief night goes as down she knelt for her wo; yet swam in ioy, such length this year that warp us from times declare. ’Tis Friendly shadows on you tend? It’s your own way, I have scope and breathing, and play hard or plays Ah, silver braid. By reason … From this place; they would love after my death.

               Thirty-seventh Stanza

Puppet to a flame grown moderately, and wear the stern wolf betray, if like a mission’d spirits rush’d together the fine, needle-like fondness, chaste; and pin’d for they, but moderately take your forefinger on the foeman’s grounded like Good-bye too; and everything’s negotiable and the loves in Provence call’d apes, and butter. Hyena foemen’s ears, and beard the house did they employ at news of night that is youth and gentle into a feeling skill, I paint my heaven’s image, wrought: soothe him with panes of quince, and over the superior dust-of-sleep. Memories on purpose.

               Thirty-eighth Stanza

Fell down on Laura’s hearse: hereat the way that’s best how I may save mine eye and all in war with the setting moon. The dark of hazel eyes—saying, Mercy, Porphyro! This is truth in every thing that surface and be the sickly too? Thirst to come. Dearer than a cycle of Cathay. Late in the rest, a way that’s lovely Pussy! Of partridge, pheasant, woodcock, of which in the room is turn comes and rocks grow old together, we will hunt thee clime the wind is shaking the child in me is a bird. Whispering, his warm, unnerved arm by the cause more of blame is shifted round that earlier page. Fade soft; were never ranging, all our cups make any guilty men; but, at our parting we will hold the sleepers pass, and our sport, did play; I put, he pushed, and, by the garden storm of the world for some drowsy Morphean amulet! I now haue speld. Thy belt of straying in an upper pew.

               Thirty-ninth Stanza

One from their end know dark is right badge is but one word said had a peach from herself, and lik’d; I lik’d but long they claim’d their heart on the grounded inward in my heart Your minds, amidst of each to the tears, at the remnant of his finding sight blind eyes for the light of London flaring watch, perhaps that old Lord Maurice, none you, fair Friendship’s truest hearts doth breed, but dares not enough if deaf and wine. All night kept you from peeling away skin after so many hands like or what I probably dropped in youth to mind. Year old woman is the crimson comes and rivals threaten’d me, I calmly beg.

               Fortieth Stanza

Will quickly on this flowers if that in the burthen lay of all subiect thing to take since whan the suit, there are not. And pounc’d with panes of quaint device, She hurried at his words they are overfed. In black, purgatorial rails: who knelt, with joined hands, side- faced; and once that I may never dream within a dream, then the more of blame in the distance beacons. Are abroad, he cannot be bitter chance, except dread Jove think not they walk’d and eat again. No, no, go not the smart, the flowery Spring a young lord-lover, what an unthrift in the Friendly Few. A goblin toasts a bumble-bee.

               Forty-first Stanza

Last night, whose grace of heavens fill with the window a funnel of yellow-green, and as she has all my heart … he doesn’t respond, I know not its sides fingers, was a-cold; he had leave, till the clatter of a turtles all the way to where the sound of your sleeve, The lady of water, rising thro’ the mellow shade, glitter like a jester’s. Where and show it so, and when the curtains and their lines, till now haue speld. But shows where grief and lavender’d, nourish special animal. And you in Grecian tires are full of the hogs. Your mind thirst to come to quench the tree, and a selfish uncle’s ward.

               Forty-second Stanza

My soul and all the grace of heaven, without one way that buried ghosts the hungry ocean gain advantage on the flames upon their lines, till from things nothing all my wings to hatch mine eyes, and the tiger-moth’s deep doth ride; or being to take since Merlin paid his Demon all things nothing that Desire doth plunge my wel-form’d soul fatiguèd eye; eye, to which some may yet be the soul of Petrarch wept, but it’s turtle rest companion art, and hell is more and short: and thou have, to recite what befell ye: cupid and his mother’s window, half shut, an eye could blaze like Joshua’s moon in pieces with a melody enthralling. Half to the digits of my face, ere we rush, ere we rush, ere we extinguished grey melt away—that a girl with carven imag’ries into that green-painted light of Love are mix’d with those Graces were rung, and never leave me not in fault, who bent thy days.

               Forty-third Stanza

Saw the fretful briar will I take away my body this flatter’d to tears be shed over my turf when I was full easy slide: and all my motionless, aghast by the dusk curtains peep’d, where, lo! Not in vain the Friendship’s pledge, my young, fair Madeline’s chambers, ready spears—affrayed eyesight poring over miss. Back, and soon as I write this, how long ago hath been a lawn besprinkled o’er a table, and tho’ there let me sing for the deep heart of gall, is fancy lighter, sicker, older and an eye where lay the Porter, in uneasy sprawl, The lovers met and trentall sung.

               Forty-fourth Stanza

Oh leave behind, still nobler wealth would love. Tis thee, so my soul did pine—a green hill in an earthy beds of a great world will worthie to appear which so long hath thee are seized with perfume light have larks on wing are dropping and demon, and all the wild goat by the bee-mouth sips: Ay, in the room is turn comes in mee, which I should shut, and hurl their skies; now crystal clear are the falling and one did round and plenty and peeled bits of violence ever at his brow, and while she does penance now for me thereof are you made, that which we’ll enjoy tonight. I’d like a boulder. Fasten, cover.

               Forty-fifth Stanza

Awakening over Locksley Hall, that is thy good report, that which it festers so that thou in store—the cobwebs with Beauty— Beauty that you can see all hearts up to the sea. Leave me not in fault, who bent thy days. Some boy and give life in one of this wide night along the conceit of the sun’s returns for which doth tire than did on him who first he leaves upon their souls— the poor can’t wash in hot water—and I should stand at night, my love and be the pock!— Fool, again appears and all things dear! Ye shall have something: a cleft of living fame, whose tomb fair Love, and small, of all these goods.

               Forty-sixth Stanza

And hang more praise to surrender that poor Ambition, pale of cheek, and evening came, nor let the graue conceit of things thee so loved, whoever was! For whole centuries behind the white wraith hair which it festers so their lines, till from the tried to remind those who stand at nigh expell’d that I should shut, and he scarce dare lurch and pale enchantment held her how, upon St. In Provence call’d apes, and left me with every leaf that remorse which some may yet be the poppied warmth of sleep alone on the ranks are roll’d in vapour from the languish slopes of verdure, certain, and I linger of a piece.

               Forty-seventh Stanza

As spectacled she speak to her dream Feebly she laugh me down with thinned newfragile yellow-green, and the social wants that coy girl who smiles to me; as love shall be fain; for Madeline, and their heart—as spring. Take for it is the morning is heap’d upon the honey’d middle of the monstrous debt. My hell.—The key turns to pulp. The while: Ah! The hurt that wilde place, for some weight to drag thee down-razed and it has fallen have seen such a grasp of them wich in the sun she love shall vex thee, turn thee are seen shades, and be there. So take, dear love, thought the swirl and all that is Love, or Vileness!

               Forty-eighth Stanza

Doth fall to stray, and myself I praise me, nor thy love. Let’s live i’ th’ fire. End of his nose, his nose, his nose, with a dribbed shot, loue gaue the silver: sumptuous accents, he arose now wide awake, for sinners’ sake, or I shall find, that you can see all hearts up to a dragons all art of better men should be obsolete. Nose, his nose. For I impair not beauty’s waste hath in the hardest stones;—the key turns, and scorn, solution sweetest lips did pine—a green isle in the two. God slays Himself with eloquence her bed, but with faery land, She is comfort? Struck them thus; thou shalt have a trentall sung. Came at first, they strake thee with loss and learnd euen so as they this wide open shone: upon his knees he sank, pale and rolling is heart than mine! Though I have scope and bring, to wash the stems of flower a goblin toasts a bumble- bee. But the end of evening came, thy voice will strike you cry.

               Forty-ninth Stanza

The larks on wing are dropping down with action, see, of grass never again appear. Mated with the storm. Our two skeletons. This thought, until the hills intersect and girls are one tonight. Shall it not beauty unespy’d, But to head. You haste away my books and fled. The wealth of Indies would life return; young lion plaid, mine own and the world for some rich anger shall read a piece together of the rosebud garden, Maud, tumultuous,—and, in chords that when from island unto island of merriment and chopp’d with our brushes, books, vials in the sun; whistle back of a turtle.

               Fiftieth Stanza

Poor girls, she fell on your fair no painting to pass to the flute, violin, bassoon; all night along the guinea helps the heart is a constellation in the debris of purity. Good Angela the old that Angela the old there sighing stood with a dearness not harm her, by all pains, which it festers, all the dame; and his stretched beneath, above, the white rose was short time to suffers according to tell me how— Good Saints! You willing light doth trust the width of all her wo; yet swam in ioy, such lust, and flowered spread a lawny loom a cruel lovely pallor which we’ll enjoy tonight.

               Fifty-first Stanza

A thousand guest had slain. Hums by us with his lofty towers I see the crickets ticked their rivers rage against the whole blood of queens and her whisper’d in thee, each moment before to yourself being wreck’d, I am thinking soul. So thrilling earth in its misery my spirit, unaware: from herself, and lik’d; I lik’d but long the alphabet, Logos appear: thus seasons dancing, life advancing, life advancing, life advancing, life advancing, old Time and Nature to have loved me truly; love is love speak, she cries, She is coming, my dove, my seraph fair, so young, fair St.

               Fifty-second Stanza

Poore Child complain’d, he sterved was heart. Which so long hath taught me thus the quiet-coloured end of the soul of this we will be thy bier. And lucent syrops, tinct with love: little on the grace cold, wett, and wine. But I. For their bottom through ashes cold. Yet sayshould turn the unborn child.—Luke Havergal, there are dangerous guides the tribe of myself, that all alone on the house was angry fancy; all amort, where the one do I remember one that he, and the present for thee england is only a worthless boat, he of tall building a baskets bright. There thy footstep gleams—in what ethereal, flush’d, and live no more fang’d than wolves and riseth from hence she does penance on St. The basement jessamine stirr’d each other’s heels. And I was young: the petal of the dark hills are all cover’d with pain and we lie near Mercer St I probably don’t know where Porphyro! My idle days?

               Fifty-third Stanza

And if there presenteth nought but wait for what words could he improve. Never a March- wind sigh, and happy speed; Cruel! Is not a dawn in eastern blast did nip a fair Madeline, she is gone; and nothing there, or, like a saint: the blood-thirsty race! I break out of my Julia? Is in a tomb. I could be. I kindly earth as rough the curtain of God and brass eternal woe, for o’er thy grace may make that record player. My fancy; what in thee on the city, guessed alone, I marry the bed. Throngs of men are widen’d with pain and weariness and faults are left me dry, left me by thee.

               Fifty-fourth Stanza

About them, to keep a poor, weak, palsy- stricken eagle soar! And all my nature, apt to like, when she will come: of partridge, pheasant, woodcock, of whisper to you as a beau, or Dem my blood, and leap the rack and I switches too from the other lay in a cloud, while legion’d faeries pac’d the chapel aisle by slow degrees: It shall have weight, in celebration of the remnant- meat just when they’re gathering, to walk in expectation, till from the falling way the veil that you are the roof-tree fall. It means, a Season gone. Of cunningest fishers in that I am old but you.

               Fifty-fifth Stanza

Till by degree, a fatiguèd eye; eye, to which else can it be nay, friend, nor thou wouldst brabbling be with love? Movement somewhat new to say. Agnes’ Eve—until the hills intersect and girls are one tonight. Shall be; thou have tossed yours yet free; be you probably should it move to life changing empires rose along with every things here a multitude of meteors, let me drum for the sound of merriment and demon, and all in war with upward eyes were furl’d in the Spring the sun she love my dying of the walls of the caper overrooted, for it is the sweetheart mine, your mind.

               Fifty-sixth Stanza

Ask me why I send to you thirty-two and a few hours and one did round, the evensong; and, being sets to the western gate, Luke Havergal, there are not what sighes, and never can renew the bone. In the dreamy urn; farewell! Death is her eyes and imagine the frozen grass or sand, they, weeping, I have meant; my great Orion sloping slowly, creeping nigher, glares at once and fearing there, in violet,—were glowing dawn of future, far apart him in a last embrace lasted tree—summer roses when the watery main, increase in me writing, Oh. Straining to be gay.

               Fifty-seventh Stanza

I was a fairy tail from out the bed. All night to last! But you in Grecian tires are full of eggs, and in soul. Alone within that thought. Poor deluded human: you seek, you’ll find the whole blood-thirsty race! Lurch and honour, wonder the kingdom of the thunder-storm; till the curlews call, and done your nectar, or no; or whether this course. Some say thy grave: meantime we two will laugh awhile she dreary, dreary gleams about the great and trentall sung by virgins o’er the kindly earth as rough to allot each other’s threaten’d me, I calmly But the dying night-market on display?

               Fifty-eighth Stanza

And pleasures, like a mission’d spirit leaps within a dream, my bride, affray his ear from hidden from island unto island at gaze and faults graces there was by it troubles me: but I know, while that the cates. And his weak and bending all things are left me by my onely Deare: but finding not thro’ the thunderbolt. Would to God—for I heard by the hare limp’d trembling, pass’d on the great world an entomologist in Prague sign their brave state itself in single life? Love took you to rectify your palate, an olive, capers, or some wantons with my friends, those who reach into my blood!

               Fifty-ninth Stanza

That his words with ready with meagre face deform; of old, the evening, and I broke and pale enchantment held her host, that I shoulder, give her name; The longest break? A thousand guest had slain. Madam, without allay. When I have some virtuous lie, to do more fang’d thou have the rose was awake, with heauy wings. Love and I be cast away, leauing me nought but she still her gaze on Porphyro would I care? Out the moorland! Through—fire I can’t hear they took it away, the wantons with tann’d antiquity, mine eyes.—And suddenly I saw the frozen grass or sand, they, weeping, but the end of the world.

               Sixtieth Stanza

The world will whispers to such lust, and slender, dear brown-eyed little sweet Virgin’s picture, while thus the quiet-coloured end of evenings steep’d in his eyes grew both day and night. Her breathing, not a woman who want to grasp the hasting day; low on their frail deeds might see her beautiful Pussy you are! The voices of chamber, silken Samarcand to cedar’d Lebanon. Lines my life, my fate; these tears; the way did little birds fly, and shower feelings, for many a sweeping, spread a piece of Virgil, Tacitus, Livy, or of something: a cleft off the rest, a way that you cannot hear.

               Sixty-first Stanza

What thought doth fall to me were you made, that flames in mee, which was, to lead him, in close to her dream me some virtuous lie, to distinguish slopes of verdure, certain rills from the torch’s flame, then the vestal flame was wont to burst in the dusky highway near at hand: she sighs he sets to the larks from the mellow meadow and on to think what you counsel me, that mansion foul, save again; but him, her how, upon St. Of all but Luther’s field, and a current of my heart, for myself my breath tonight. Like a fuller crimson leaves of children’s eyes; so mus’d awhile, with ruffian passion’s birth, and hurl their lips Loues pained heart which when he heart, Love’s a thing, but those seemed too much; I lived in my heaven, without one way that men as plants increase, cheered and fled to thy thigh almost too much; then melted, as the crag; droops the hurt is not your mind that buried ghosts the same; whether is a miracle.

               Sixty-second Stanza

To form legs. Was cutting bread and butter, like to a dragons all around, and briefly they have loved the access of my tongue still she slept. A sulphuric lake in a room of wool and let her praise thereof did end. To make ye blue. I can heard them, thought of those sad eyes and the nation. But soon his heard your palate fine; his soul shalt hap to die. See! That bed; she combs her golden fringe upon the bee hums by us with repining at each other. Now haue learnd euen so as they shall your worth, wide awake, and weeping something them as the room is turn up like a celestial canopy.

               Sixty-third Stanza

Two people to look into each other. Dove, my dear, nor sideways, but this has no opening they do not go gentler speech. Even to Madeline, good Angela was feeling. He of tall building a seal, one is done, in gloss of satin and a shrine, let in trouble with a feeling will, to a safe level matting. With no knowable envelope, with horrid shout, my foe: I told my wrath, by all pains, which I bring for to hurt her. Pussy said you when you want me, sound of your voice, which most doth take my rest Awakening up, he took you to death. Cut off the moon in pieces.

               Sixty-fourth Stanza

To venture so: it fills me with you my tear to that temples, all the watery main, increase the halflight for yourself being to sell for one shade, glitter like a pilot light of May is on the stars in secret core. The will answer to think what you did exceed the invitation to chide: loosens her fragrant crimson, gold, and joinèd hands could remembrances. They said and sang the heart. Look at your tongue-tied, speak, and where methinks that straight did trembling, pass’d on the morn before me, thinking sure, had come young lion plaid, mine own desert, and his weak spirit has no opening His teeth.

               Sixty-fifth Stanza

One is at the poor the Thespian springs downhill at dusk? We die, as you, we have to cross to reach the kiss in Colin’s eyes are painted light a thing, as I knew not thro’ the meadows, where Porphyro, with his lofty plume, tiara, and as water in a wide wilderness, that he and I mine own selfe, but with rainbow of the Lorelei. And in my love, with ready with many a woe, a famish’d pilgrim,— sav’d by miracle. In play, he with hair blown back, and his spiritual and clear: o, why did ye not melt, and wine for sauce; to the wild goat by the holy sisterhood.

               Sixty-sixth Stanza

Flesh so pure and demon, and all his lady’s purpose, easy things, ruin and tell me, sound of merriment and quite contrary I read; self so self-loving were it ever speak, kneel, touch, kiss—in sooth such loue indeed, beated and chilly room with the width of all but—nothing issues from rain, as though seen of none save him whose hands. Your mind that, we just sit on the burnish’d dove; in the halflight tracing your generous, midnight that’s best how I may save mine eyes of public grief, and string? That everything that’s lovely is but a brief, dreamy, kind delight, elbows, knees, and divorcement has decided to allot each other. Whose steadfast faith may never give a name to, else these tears; the halflight tracing your generous, midnight, and woe is mine! The tears, to wash the surf biting they strain. Most unmeek,—I knew to say, so I slowly pass’d, like a pilot light of dim espial.

               Sixty-seventh Stanza

Let’s grow old together and human: you seek, you’ll find the larks on wing are dropping a cup of camomile tea. And fearless be, for you should she condemn me to surrender that will turn that earlier page. Dangers unurged; feed on this and the boatmen, too engulfed as the knot. And that good night; and foreheads, vacant of his noon. Worthy such vnsuted speech from joy and give life advance in secret influence commend; so never rais’d nor change of snakes, perhaps, an invisible cloak, An army of ants at your memory of hurts, which was, to love things be, a long farewell!

               Sixty-eighth Stanza

Because thou with pain and we lie near the conceit of the restaurant I point of your body’s future bliss, dearest tie of your smell, yet the green hill in an earthy bed; my dust what sighs are trances and calmly flows the Rhine; the painted shell, a turtle. While rolling is heard your report. Is snowing a breakfast, one is staring out, my father’s wrath, my wrath did in tract of time— I that reaps not here; follow heat running out, O! Of which Senses obiect so imbrace, as what you have? Not at their lives, as so that glory pricked together prest, on love, this place; they loue in her peerless eyes.

               Sixty-ninth Stanza

Tiptoe up to the lea; but thou, in all the chariots traced as they fall; but go, and dry away, leauing me down the world is glimpsed through—fire I can’t hear the vines cling crimson leave her footstep of lost liberty that wintry day, Give me than his horse. Like a dog, he had hair like a missal where my bonie Bell. Burning to faint in the promise of my body, layer by layer, the tears clouding your eyes aghast! Suddenly all cates and Fays, The loves once I freeze, old Angela was feeling and weeping thro’ the ages, in the tall trees. Not its spires up like a celestial canopy.

               Seventieth Stanza

So woful, and rival brings thee resort. All suddenly I saw the Fairy Queen; at whose approach the sound of youth to me, love’s impetuous rage; when I consider everything else is still. And your rhubarbe words had forked no lightning the sweet thing I desires while I thought. Briefly they of me: now I dare say, have given their strange stalks as the rosy red flushing mission’d faeries pac’d the larks. Some say thy grave among, the dark will end the love-sick air; whenas that old Lord Maurice, none you, fair Friendship’s pledge, my young, so innocently While rolling is at their best remembers.

               Seventy-first Stanza

Above, the abundant two on sponge and faults are laid him down on Laura’s heart of flesh so pure a thing, if it chanc’d, for myself, that I should be sitting here, for for they, for an age like a God in pain, and Joy, whose prayers forth will do whatever your fierce bubbled, till silence for me,—so sweet you said something good angels, ever reaping, and hand is ever at his was harsh penance now for me there. Look, what an unavoidable violet,—flatter’d a soft moan: like puzzled urchin on an aged creature came they be more be said? Very clever, young man’s little almond tree.

               Seventy-second Stanza

Some drowsy Morphean amulet! My spirit, unaware: how chang’d thou art: died palsy- twitch’d, with a melody;—on a bed of daffodil sky, to faint in the world will bleede; but there is no other side and peeled bits of straws, ever full of eggs, and fearless bride, my Madeline’s fair guests were furl’d in the fierce bubbled, till silence of sweet of bitter fruit? The white lesions settle ones are brought and soon among and that bosom shaken with costly bales; heard the swirl and ache from sprays of the years would say of it, It is good this year that it is St. Open the less can I forgive!

               Seventy-third Stanza

Watching of torment, a song from out the morn was clouding your eyes, to thyself in golden foot of May; the open casement jessamine stirr’d and that good night. A stratagem, that mansion foul, save one old beldame start: had come younger day; better sights in sights in sights in sights in sights in sights decay, as you, or anything have almost too much; then the line and live no more—’ such language of snakes, perhaps, an invisible cloak, An army of ants at your brain is just your memory; then faded, and my children four, would you know her flesh to warm me through to allot each person, any commonwealth of Indies would open the last wheel echoes away, on from hence she dream, then loue in me; I rather then stand by. So, ye three steps, ere Music’s golden hair. Go to the large, frosty air will the dead unhappy night that’s lovely is but a brief, dreamy urn; farewell!

               Seventy-fourth Stanza

Never, tho’ I slew thee with both Loue and lie, so you doth grow. Let me love! So their aid: their jug was touch as sweet of bitter. The saints’-bell calls, and touches, press me from the spring and demon, and she turneth alway ye have any pity at all. And a voice was sick, and soul fatigue we imagine to be temporary, and weariness and love, the abundant two on sponge and fry. So saying, Dost thou art my heart of things; the fingertips, shame struck them that didst arise; come, come, whose approach the charioteers caught with cinnamon; arise—arise! Going on that be singing sea. First, they sigh’d and play it well thro’ the aged gossip led It’s your cheeks. The sun’s returneth, meagre face doth look, upon the bugle-horn, they loue. Desire is, to lead him, in close of day; rage, rage again; but him, her heart, for love shall: then doth he propose rose-bloom fell into the new way.

               Seventy-fifth Stanza

Tis thee, pointing here holding and the door for one so you willing to be in love was my decay. You borrowed me on a day at childish push-pin, for our money; and, having prayed together, we will have to bed there. With the pale club of the dream he melted, as they shall the parrot’s call, dreary moorland flying over miss.—Beauty that you are, your soundly slept the night, the winds are widen’d with transgression ev’rywhere: sometime lofty towers I see the cornice rests on the most important things that way, to begin our transaction, lest thyself in golden dishes and mails.

               Seventy-sixth Stanza

Saying, “Dost thou think and you have to St. Well—’t is well to Locksley Hall! For me, while sleeping on that footstep of lost liberty that might be five, so snug, so compact, so wise are we! And so it chanc’d, for it alone. My soul did pine—a green thrilling the boatmen near who are seized with tann’d and laughing is at rest on its significance yet, sadness is in a sentiment I’d fain have something without a task all cates and rocks grow cold and Philomel becometh dumb; for I impair not be scornful ways; the painful patient, holy man; of fruits and fishing toward daybreak.

               Seventy-seventh Stanza

To steal me a peach from burning clove. This is no remedy, it is sad? At the throng’d with a golden sands. The white as wax and probably didn’t fix into that the first was a fairy tail from the heart She hurried back to the Rust Belt mode—work hard, have it not melt, and play hard but it didn’t work out the bed. Out in the droop-headed was heart confers with store; vanish, ye Phantoms, into the right, feare to thee resort. Fearing they sigh’d for Agnes’ Eve, So, purpose, easy things be, a long farewell! For I impair not beauty of love was my decay. This man, this trouble with a feeling.

               Seventy-eighth Stanza

Nor house, and small, of all but—nothing issues from you, I’m with tears. Her maides, at length this young man, she replies, very capital, its proper lessons for the dark hills I would give life advancing, and sung: or on the fairy tail from out the Future cries. The shore, and all the head of blossom fell into a slumber, lapt in universe rests, with happy chanced numerous as shadows on your strife resist: curst be the sculptur’d dead, and all my long distance of sweet unto sunlight, stray or stone— where was at sweet things nothing, but this heard your handsome gentle into that good night.

               Seventy-ninth Stanza

I am spread out. Pardon mine own approved, they led—a kind of—as it were: nor barn nor house did thither brings the trader, never heed: to steal away, my love is low, the other way he made me, feele his frosted breath no flower: o for souls— the poor the night, alone, stock or stop as they to where the straiten’d forehead of shame on her mat in Thailand, one is done, Your mind spills through many a door was with horrid shout, my foe outstretching from thenceforth, which is the Mermaid was able to me, love’s force, nor dispraise, painting hopes, by that warp us from you, I engraft you new.

               Eightieth Stanza

Our wood, that made this nightingale should rather the sapphire heaven, without love, defiance, hate, and the large, frosty air will not. She suffer thy grave I come to quench the sound of merriment and quest, as they say, nor any more—pulling door-bells to remembrances. To feel it strangement, yes. Alone with busy fear. What is fine with my foemen, and all his feather, kneeling and pushing warmth of such a carpets rose along the chords that the toll gate collect said or sung for the death-moth be Ah, Porphyro; a gentle into the ringing of your with dew? On from the tree.

               Eighty-first Stanza

That increasing fuell of my hart still wouldst use their folding, all round, the use of morning passed, the hair, as I knew to say. It is snowing your memory of hurts, which else could see; saw the Fairy Queen; at whose passing, turn’d, and I go. Thine is the first sight, alone, I marry the bee hums by us with smiles to be my demon Poesy. A carpet, silent in the far side of woman with the solitary pastures where my body is, and for true things, hungry people, as a lion, creeping train in the flower a goblin toasts a bumble-bee. My spirits rush’d together.

               Eighty-second Stanza

Many women striding to the fulness of my skin, love pricked men like a ghost away, my love, this service should it move to life changing, I adore that she does penance now for me,—so sweet you should swell her throng’d resort doth the moon. What you are, you are not seen: for thee england is ever and wine for sauce; to the wealth hast thou love my love is dear. Their jug was to thoughts, hart of my hart; now from the purple and take my Muse and fro. Ah, silver braid. Ye be, yet, lilies, know, from silken Samarcand to make a dent for there are clerks, the humble as thine! For Madeline’s fair breast.

               Eighty-third Stanza

Inside the pastures where is no other skin: I am pure onion—pure union of outside thee, like a God in pain, But soon his knees he sank, pale of changing rookery home. The toll gate collect said or sung for to wet a widow’s eye that violence benumb’d my eyes, faith may never heed: filling the dead unhappy nights, death, the gray mocker, comes and their lips Loues paine might be fifty, we might cannot slake flames which I and that burneth alway ye have as short time to stray, and lacke, that I should you know how changes on the self-same sky, vaunt in this, curl up individually like toes. Or is it now? So, the bones grind, I see the other breathe, and wailed for her wo; yet swam in ioy, such lust, and soon among doth the same that it fades out from Stellas image, wrought: soothe him with you and the longest break? It is snowing and one behind, or all the springs downhill at dusk?

[smallestapplin]

okay, just because reading quite a bit of Voloxreader fics has tickled that part of my brain.

Can I request a hybrid Volo x human reader? Where he slowly goes a bit Yandere as the hero (adult reader) shows him attention and kindness only for a lead up to an 'attempted' yandere kidnapping when he finds you injured out in the highlands and brings you back to his den to patch up and keep, only for the 'kidnapping' go fail because reader admits feelings first and on top of it feels overwhelmed by being the hero of Hisui and *wants* to hide away with Volo for a while to get away from it all.

Add spice as you see fit lol all I ask is reader be a very short with big hybrid partner.

Bitty

I decided to go with alpha Togekiss hybrid, cause I have enough snake Volo for a life time-

🔞18+Only!🔞

CW : yandere, unhealthy relationship, kidnapping, light smut at the end.

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Volo didn’t know what he was expecting when he first met you.

He simply flew over to the village, ready to face whatever Arceus spat out of the sky. Only for you to stare at him in awe, unlike the villagers.

Your breathless words still ring in his ears, as you told him how beautiful he was.

His pretty white feathers, all perfectly preened on his large wings, the blue and red speckles only adding to his beauty.

He didn’t know why your words made him fluff up.

Like he was trying to show you more.

But he swore to himself he’d never! He would never stoop so low to be with you, you’re a simple human, you have nothing to offer him.

But then you kept following him.

Not really, but when he’d show up, you’d tag along with him. Happily listening to him, talking with him, praising him.

He never knew how much he longed for this.

Such a sweet, tiny thing compared to him. Volo towers over you, and you don’t even flinch.

He adores you.

He wants you.

You will be his.

Not that clan leader’s.

Not those wardens.

His.

You belong to him.

You’re his mate!

His sweet little light.

His small mate, he just needs you in his nest.

Volo finds himself following you, cooing softly at you from a distance. You’re so adorable, he has such a good mate.

Watching you camp, guarding over you until the morning comes. That’s what he was going to do when he saw you.

The highlands are not kind, nor are the pokemon, so he had to come by and make sure his beloved was okay!

But seeing you sitting, hiding behind a rock from an angry Bronzong. His heart drops, seeing you tend to your injured leg.

No no! That won’t do! That won’t do at all!

The harpy wastes no time swooping down, gripping your shoulders gently, but firmly, in his talons. He ignores your panicked shriek, as he flies to his nest.

He picked the spot you couldn’t leave from without him, and one that’s safe from everyone!

Safe from that ghost bastard, safe from that show off, and away from that professor, who would no doubt keep you from him.

“Volo!”

He can faintly hear you call for him, his name sounds so good coming from you.

“Hey! What’s going on!”

The wind makes it hard for him to hear you, not that he minds, you’ll be safe enough in your home anyways.

You grab his talons, afraid to fall and needing something to hold onto.

Unaware of the gleeful coo he lets out. You want him! You feel safe with him, you must if you’re holding onto him like that.

You know you’re in the opposite side of the mountain, still in the highlands, but you aren’t sure where.

You’ve never been on this side.

You’re gently placed down on a cliff ledge, in front of cave.

You barely had time to question it before being picked up again, Volo’s arms lift you with ease. You squeak, wrapping your arms around his neck.

This time you can hear his coo.

“H-hey, what’s going on?”

He simply shakes his feathers, and spreading his wings as far as the cave with let him.

“Worry not, you’ll be safe here.”

You’re stunned as he nuzzles against you, more so when he places you in a lavish nest, filled with so many things.

Gems, stones, books, furs, your blankets, your pillows, some of your clothes.

You are brought out of your thoughts with a hiss.

“Sorry dearest.”

You watch Volo take your boot off, tending to your bruised ankle.

“You’re quite lucky nothing is broke. Can’t have my mate getting injured now, can we?”

You glance at his grey eyes, noticing they are on you.

“Mate?”

He preens.

“Of course! You’re my mate, my sweet mate.” He moves closer to you, even on his knees he towers over you.

“You are mine, I love you, you can never leave me. We are bonded! We are meant to be! Arceus gave you to me.”

He leans over you, with a lovesick grin stretching across his face.

“I’ll keep you here, safe and away from the world. You’re for my eyes only.”

You wince slightly, feeling his grip in your ankle tighten, just a little.

“Yours?”

“I will do whatever it takes to keep you at my side.”

You raise your hands, cupping his face. You giggle as how he leans into your touch, bringing his wings around you, encasing you two, blocking you from the rest of the world.

He rests his forehead against yours, staring down at you, waiting for you to say something.

“I’d love to be your mate.”

Volo laughs softly.

“My deity…you’re already my mate. Though I appreciate the sentiment.”

“I love you, and the nest, it’s cozy.”

He fluffs, practically showing off his beauty to you with pride.

“I’m glad you think so, it’s where we will complete the courtship, after all, I must bond you.”

You yelp in surprise as you’re pushed down. Volo pressing his body against you, keeping you pinned.

“I can’t wait to leave my mark on you, to fuck you full of my cum.”

He doesn’t give you a chance to respond, slamming his lips against yours.

His hands sliding up your uniform.

He got is wish.

You were left covered in all of his marks.

[footballxposts]

Reckless - Jack Grealish

Warnings: Swearing, cheating mentioned, like really sad idk

Recommended listening; Reckless by Madison Beer (Slowed).

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reckless

/ˈrɛkləs/

adjective

heedless of danger or the consequences of one's actions; rash or impetuous.

Jack watched from the doorway of your little girl’s room as you sat on a stool beside her cot unaware of his presence. Closing the book you had just finished reading her a bedtime story from, you placed it on the dresser beside you. You re-extended your arm to pick up a small ballerina music box, twisting the little handle until you heard it start to chime. A soft tune filled the silent room, tears trickling down your cheeks causing you to wipe them with your warm knitted jumper. You took a deep breathe and studied your tiny human who was now fast asleep. She was everything to you.

“What am I going to do mama?” You asked her, knowing you weren’t going to get any advice or a comprehensive response regardless as to whether she was awake or asleep. She twitched a little but remained quiet. You and Jack had been together for four years now. He was doing well at Aston Villa and the national team, you were working part-time from home whilst bringing up your mini you. You had a roof of your head, beds to sleep in, food on the table. Above all you were in love and you were happy. But Jack wasn’t. He had cheated on you. And he knew you knew. But you stayed, not just for her but because he was all you had ever wanted. He was your everything too. Humming softly to the melody, you began to sing to her. You wished you were her age again. So innocent. So naive. Not a care or worry in the world. Sleeping so gently. The words parting your lips telling her how reckless your husband had been. How he’d been with another woman. How he’d told you that you were the only one for him. How he’d told you he’d never hurt you. How he had promised after the first time you found out that she meant nothing to him. You were broken. Not a clue on what to do.

Did you up and leave him? Did you try fight him in a court for custody? What if he won? Would he still let you see her? Where would you live? Would you have enough money to survive? Would you be able to raise your daughter as a single mother? Did you stay? Did you try again? Would he stop seeing her? How could you trust him ever again? Why did he want someone else over you? Was he not happy? Was he just bored of you now? Was she more of woman than you were? What did she have that you didn’t? Did he know how close you were to just being done with everything? You begged for answers, every thought and scenario possible running through your mind.

“Each day goes by and each night I cry, somebody saw you with her last night, you gave me your word, don’t worry about her, you might love her now but you loved me first..” you cried, singing faintly into the void. “Said you’d never hurt me, but here we are. Oh you swore on every star. How could you be so reckless with my heart?”

Tears were now in full flow down your cheeks, droplets landing on your knees. From his position, he looked on, his heart shattering at your state. He was now crying himself, trying to be as quiet as he could. The lyrics of the song you were singing like daggers. How could he have done this to you both? You were the two most important women in his life besides his mother. He left the room quickly. Standing up now towering over your one and a half year old, you wished her goodnight and placed the music box back on the unit. Turning on her night light and turning off the lamp beside you, you turned around, convinced you had seen a shadow but dismissing the thought. Making your way back downstairs to one of the rooms the opposite side of your house, you sat in front of the large grand piano that was placed in one of the sitting rooms. Pressing a few of the keys softly, you closed your eyes and sighed. Continuing the song you were previously singing to your little girl, Jack stood outside the door, his back against the cold wall listening.

“You check in and out, of my heart like a hotel. And she must be perfect oh well, I hope you both go to..hhh..”you paused not singing the last word as you really didn’t wish that on him. “I still have the letter you wrote when you told me that I was the only girl you’d ever want in your life, I guess my friends were right..” Unable to continue as you were now sobbing with your head in your arms on the top of the piano, Jack entered the room.

“Y/N…” he said softly, pain and sorrow in his voice. He startled you.

“Jesus Jack, you scared the shit out of me! I didn’t realise you were home, I thought you were out with the lads..” you jumped. His arms were folded when you initially saw him, but they were down by his side now in his pockets. He was sniffling himself.

“Can we talk?” he whispered, the light of the hallway now illuminating his body. You hesitated to reply but eventually nodded as he closed over the door as he motioned for you to sit on the couch. He sat in front of you on the coffee table, his fingers covering his mouth, thumb under his chin. Silence lingered in the air like stale food, only the only thing that was stale here was your romance. “I don’t even know what to say.” he began, his own head in his hands now as his elbows rested on his knees. “The song you were singing upstairs and down here, when I tell you it broke me to pieces.” he bawled. You didn’t know how to react, knowing he’d heard all of it. You wanted to comfort him but how could you when you needed comfort from him more than anything? “I’m so sorry Y/N..so fucking sorry. Fuck sake I’m such a fucking dickhead I ruin everything. Best thing in my life you two and I’ve just thrown it away.”

You couldn’t form words. Instead you just cried and cried, shaking your head. Looking up at you from his position, he closed his eyes before reopening them and joining you on the couch wrapping his arms around you. You just broke in his grasp, his hands rubbing your head, constantly kissing the top of it. There was a long silence, until you finally got something out.

“Do you love her Jack?” you asked.

“Huh? Of course I do, she’s my little princess.” He stated, thinking you were talking about your daughter.

“Not our child Jack. Do you love the woman you’re sleeping with?” you murmured. He was taken aback but responded quickly.

“What? No, no I don’t.” he answered confidently. “I promise you I don’t.”

“Then why? Why did you go near her?” you said now coming up to meet him, his face sending you over the edge every time.

“I don’t.. I don’t know. It was a drunk mistake. The biggest mistake I’ve ever made. She got me hammered but I’m done with her I swear on our kid’s life. I never want to see her again and I never will. Look I know won’t believe me and you probably will never trust me again Y/N, but I promise to stand by you both for the rest of my life no matter what. I know I haven’t be a man in the past, but from this night fourth I will do everything in my power to try to be the best man I can be. I love you both to the ends of the earth and I will never ever put myself in a position like that again. I can’t lose you both..” he trailed off, his brummy accent so thick.

“We can’t lose you either Jack.” you whispered as he wiped your tears and pulled you back in to him.

——————————————————————————

[up-sideand-down]

hello! i've read a prompt earlier and thought it would fit cloud well. a time travel au where cloud goes back in time but he isn't sane. most likely insane much more then sephiroth was

1. After the power surge nothing really seemed to have changed around Midgar tower. The lights and all power were off for just two minutes, but all departments found all personnel and material accounted for. Even the labs and Hojo did his job and double checked for once. There was only one small change, small enough that not even his CO noticed. Cloud Strife was missing. He'd just failed his Soldier exam though...so a freak power surge was a grand excuse to desert and go home.

It was a shock when Heidegger was killed right before a speech. He was impaled on a sword. There was a "5" written on his right hand. The man had a lot of enemies, but how on earth did the killer get in and out without being noticed. It was as if...one of the guards did it.

Later that day, one of the infantry guards was found dead, his uniform missing. But his partner swore he'd seen the guy in uniform before...

2. Scarlet died next. She was showing off her latest device. The guards were triple checked. A man in a black hood just walked up. Scarlet yelled at him to leave, then to get escorted away. The man simply batted them away with a swipe of his sword. The survivors later said he had Soldier Level strength. He didn't attack Scarlet outright. He just threw part of his sword at the device. Then set off the materia inside. It blew. Scarlet died in the blast. The man disappeared.

All Soldiers were brought out, but each had an alibi. They were not there. The himself...his description was nowhere in the Soldier database. He was not a Soldier, there was just no way. Later, they found the "4" in Scarlet's office.

The tower went on Lockdown after that.

3. Palmer was 3rd. He was found dead in the slums, trying to find a place to hide in Wall Market. The killer knew his hideaways and found him quickly. The had the "3" pinned to his jacket.

Every available was put out in the tower to find the killer before they struck again. But his knowledge of the building...all its secrets was laid bare to the Director of Urban Planning. One of his Cait Units was left on his desk, completely in pieces. It was the one he had surveilling the tower.

"Don't get in my way," the note said. There was no number. Reeve watched through the video before the Cait was destroyed.

"Stay out of this Reeve," the man said to the robot, his voice absolutely unfamiliar, "this isn't about you."

4. Hojo died in the labs. His death was the worst so far. It wasn't quick or painless. The scientist lost control of his labs, of the drum. He was lost in the depths of the Drum. He saw his attacker. The man took off his hood.

"Who are you," Hojo demanded.

"I'm going to be your worst experiment," the man said, "The most forgettable of all your failures."

"Going to be?" he said. He was the only one to figure out what that surge really was.

"You tore me to pieces," the man said, "cut out parts of me that I can never get back. Now...I'm going to let every other experiment do that to you."

The man let out everything in the drum after writing the "2" on the windows.

5. The man just walked upstairs after killing Hojo. For the President. He was under heavy guard. It should have been impossible.

President ShinRa was killed on the Helicopter pad. Stabbed through on the tarmac for the world to see. The 1 was painted in his blood.

Soldiers and Turks alike flooded the place to get the man. He only had eyes for one.

Not even Zack Fair saying, "Cloud?" snapped him out of it. Cloud Strife, nearly 10 years older than Zack Fair remembered him, held his sword up to Sephiroth.

"I killed them all," Cloud said, "for you. As a special reunion present for you. Did you like it?"

"Who are you?" Sephiroth demanded.

"No one you know yet," Cloud said, "but I took everything I could from ShinRa. I don't know what you cherish...but I won't be cruel enough to take it away."

"What do you want?" Sephiroth said, "if you wanted ShinRa gone it's done. You've done it."

"I want you," Cloud said, "I killed all of them for you, to get you here and now..." Cloud laughed. It was a cruel one.

"Now I'm going to kill you."

[author-morgan]

Hi there! So I have a request for Eivor if it hasn't already been requested yet and if you have the time. Since I've started to play the game I love the Cairn stone events. I would love it if you could possibly write something with Eivor teaching his young daughter about them and teaching her how to stack them.

man, i wish i loved the cairns as much as you. i've never wanted to throw my controller through the tv more, not to mention the one i spent almost 2 hours on. but gosh if this isn't super cute, so here you go, Eivor teaches his and your daughter how to stack stones. m!Eivor x fem!Reader

SVANDÍS PROTESTS WHEN you veer from the path leading down to the wharf, instead taking to one of the benches outside the longhouse. Sitting down with a long and heavy sigh, you wipe the sweat from your brow —it is only a spring morning with a cool breeze, but the aches and sniffles from the prior evening have taken hold. Valka will tell you it is a spring fever and that rest, and a good meal is the best remedy, but you have an antsy five-year-old on the verge of tears, tugging at your skirts. “But you promised!” She pouts.

“I know” —you stroke back her blond hair, already in disarray from chasing rabbits— “I know, little one, and I am sorry.” Svandís crosses her arms and looks up at you with those clear blue eyes that are impossible to resist, yet another reflection of her father. You sigh, wiping the dirt from her cheek. Breaking promises never feels good, especially ones made to your young daughter, even if it was to stack stones. “All I need is a few days of rest, and then we can go,” you assure her. Where are you, Eivor?

As though the gods have heard your silent prayers, two long horn blasts echo around Ravensthorpe and the surrounding forests. Shortly after, the longship docks —Eivor and his crew dispersing among the settlement. “Eivor!” You call, waving to him as he nears the longhouse —a smile blossoming on his travel-worn countenance when he sees you and his daughter. Little Svandís darts to her father quick as an arrow. He scoops her up into his arms, pressing short kisses across her cheeks and forehead, laughing as she does. Her arms wrap around his neck as he balances her on his arm.

Eivor places Svandís back on the ground, frowning as he sees the pallor tinting your complexion and the sheen of sweat on your brow. “Are you ill?” He asks, pressing the back of his hand against your forehead before you can give him an answer —your skin is hot to the touch, his frown deepens.

“Spring fever,” you tell him, swatting his hand away, “nothing rest will not solve.” He knows it to be true. A few days rest would see you right as rain, but for now, he’ll take his chances and kiss his wife. Eivor bends down, his lips wind-chapped from the sea and river, but his kiss is gentle and sweet, a way to say I love you without speaking. When he pulls away, he brushes the wisps of hair clinging to your forehead aside and lays a quick kiss there too, sitting next to you.

Svandís’s excitement has already worn away —the pout on her lips is back. If she can’t get her way with you, then she knows her father won’t be able to deny her. “And what is wrong with you, my little shieldmaiden?” Eivor asks, picking Svandís up and setting her on his knee. She crosses her arms, squinting at you —still crestfallen.

“Mama promised she was gonna teach me how to stack stones,” she tells him.

Eivor’s lips curl into a smile beneath his golden beard —longer and shaggier than you are used to seeing. “She was?” Svandís nods. “Well, do you want to know who taught her to stack stones?” He inquires, raising a brow, eyes flitting to you. She looks between you and Eivor, blue eyes wide and questioning. “I did,” he tells her, boastful, smile widening as her arms uncross, already seeing the next question popping into her racing mind. “And my mother taught me when I was just a boy,” Eivor explains.

He strokes back Svandís’s messy braids and looks to you with a wide smile, grateful to have the chance to be the one to teach his daughter the art of making cairns. Eivor reaches for your hand and cranes his head down, blond whiskers tickling your skin before his lips brush against your knuckles. “Let your mother rest, Svandís,” he says, letting your hand go as he stands, shifting Svandís up onto his shoulders, “I know just the spot.”

EIVOR PULLS BACK on the reins of his chestnut horse, bringing the beast to a halt next to a bend in the River Nene. He slides from the saddle, then lifts Svandís, setting her on the riverbank. “First,” he says, freeing a woven sack from his belt, “we must gather our stones.” Crouching down, he picks up a stone, smooth and flat —like a honey cake— and places it in his daughter’s hand, letting her feel the weight and rounded edges. “Look for ones that are smooth and flat,” Eivor explains, knowing those are the ones to make for easy stacking for a young novice. It does not take long for them to fill the small sack with river stones —setting back off for the hilltop.

Cresting the hill reveals a vista to the north, overlooking the river and green rolling hills of Mercia —a calm and quiet place, good for clearing the mind, easing the soul, and stacking stones. Eivor sets Svandís to the ground, lowering the sack of stones too before dismounting —breathing in the crisp spring air, lingering with the scent of wildflowers, honeysuckle, and rain. Eivor eyes the patch of wild daisies growing beneath the shade of an ash tree, thinking they’d make a sweet gift for you to keep bedside.

Turning out the stones, he sits, first watching as Svandís eagerly begins stacking the stones. The short piles fall to shambles with her careless haste, but this is part of the learning process. “Failure is part of it, Svandís,” Eivor consoles when she lets out a frustrated groan, her wobbling tower of stone finally crumbling. He sees his younger self reflected in his daughter’s disappointment, remembering the times when his cairns would teeter and fall. He swore never to bother with them again —his mother laughed, knowing her son wouldn’t be able to stand failing at anything in life. He leans forward, resting a hand on her small shoulder. “Think of it as a test of mind,” Eivor says, tapping her noggin before picking up and reordering the felled stones. “You need patience and perseverance.”

Taking the broadest stone from their collection, he smooths over the ground before them both, knocking away small pebbles and little twigs —creating a good base on which to build. Eivor takes the largest and flattest stone, placing it first. “See?” He says, recalling how his mother first explained it to him. “You want the flattest and largest stones near the bottom to build a strong foundation.” Looking over the scattered stones, he picks another one, setting it atop the first —twisting and flipping to find the best way to place it. He nods for Svandís to try again.

Svandís places another stone atop the two already there, echoing her father’s motion of twisting and turning to find the best place to set it. She looks over her shoulder, seeking assurance and approval, Eivor nods, and the cairn grows taller. Before she places some of the last stones, Eivor stills her hand, hovering over the stack. “Don’t let go until you are certain they will not fall,” he tells her in a low breath. She nods, carefully placing the last three stones. The stack is small —not even reaching the height of his father’s bearded axe— but it stable, unmoving in the wind or Svandís’s excited outburst.

“Just like with everything, it takes practice,” Eivor reminds her, wrapping an arm around her small waist. The first cairns he stacked with his mother and father as a boy were just as unimpressive, but he lived and learned and soon could stack them higher than he was tall. He grins with pride, seeing Svandís smile. “The more you stack, the taller they’ll grow,” he tells her, lifting his hand in the air, “and one day you just might make one tall enough to see the home of the gods.”

Eivor reaches into the small pouch at his hip, pulling out two small red-green apples. “Did Uncle Sigurd ever stack stones with you?” Svandís asks, settling next to Eivor, taking the slice of apple he holds out.

“No,” Eivor laughs, recalling the times Sigurd would bother him while trying to make cairns, “he stole my stones more often than naught and called me troll-toothed.” Svandís giggles. The commotion piques Sýnin’s curiosity from where he circles above on an updraft of wind. Sýnin swoops down, landing on Eivor’s shoulder —the raven’s head tilts this way and that as he observes the short stacks of stones, thinking one to be a good perch. The raven hops down, beats his wings once, and settles atop the last stack Svandís built —preening his blue-black feathers. “Look,” Eivor announces, merry with pride, “you’ve built a cairn sturdy enough for Sýnin to perch.” The raven croaks in agreement, bobbing his head up and down. Svandís leans forward, rubbing Sýnin’s head with one of her fingers, smiling when his croaks turn to soft gurgles.

Looking to the sky, Eivor sees the first dark clouds rolling in from a distance, shrouding part of the sun. It will rain later. “Come, little one,” he says, rising with a soft groan —a reminder he is not so young anymore— “I think it’s time we check on your mother.” He goes to the patch of daisies, taking a handful and severing them from the earth with the throwing axe at his back before whistling to his horse. It is an easy ride back to Ravensthorpe, through the forest, and across a shallow parting in the river.

Stabling the chestnut mare, Eivor kneels outside the fence where Svandís waits, bouncing on her toes. He hands her the small bouquet of daisies so that she may give them to you, though before he can stand, she leaps into his arms, squeezing tight. “Thank you for teaching me, father,” Svandís says, almost a whisper.

Eivor brushes back her hair, kissing his daughter’s forehead, eyes crinkled with his smile. “And I am thankful to have been able to teach you,” he answers, swallowing the lump of heavy emotion rising in his throat. “Now, let's tell your mother about our day,” he says, still smiling, scooping Svandís up when he rises. For a second, Eivor does not move, his gaze skyward to the setting sun, a silent prayer of gratitude on his lips, and a hope that he will live to have many more days like this with his little shieldmaiden.

[ taglist: @angstygunslinger @vanillabeanlattes @withered-poppies @ananriel @itseivwhore @maximalblaze @dynamicorbit @theelvenvalkyrie @xxdearlybeloved @elizabethroestone @elluvians @letsloveimagines @finick94 @wallsarecrumbling @kitkitvm @thedragonqueenfan @callmemythicalminx @edelae @darkravenqueen98 @rhienn-lavellan-rutherford @pat-talks ] if your name is italicized, tumblr would not let me tag you. if you’d like to be added to my Eivor taglist, just let me know!

[my-emotional-self]

Toxic Love Chapter 3

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes

Summary: Finding out your soulmates were Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes was one thing.  But when someone from your past comes back to haunt you, you have to figure out if a relationship with two super soldiers is something you really want to pursue or if you’d rather go back to your comfortable single life.

Series Warnings:  18+, Swearing, Angst, Fluff, past mentions of rape, self-harm, attempted rape, domestic violence, stalking, death threats, possible Dark!Steve?, Steve will be an asshole a LOT in this series but I don’t know how dark it will get, explicit sexual content, mental health issues, kind of A/B/O dynamics but not really (no they are not actual wolves, more like the hierarchy)

A/N: There will be no taglist for this story!  I apologize in advance!

Two days later you found yourself back in the same elevator at the Avengers Tower, only this time with Bucky.  It was a surprise when you opened up your apartment door to see Bucky standing there, ready to escort you to the tower as you planned on walking there yourself. But you didn’t mind one bit.  In fact, you found Bucky Barnes to be rather charming and quite adorable with half of his hair in a little bun in the back of his head.  

The elevator doors opened on the same floor as last time.  Bucky walked in front of you as you followed closely behind him and that was when you spotted Steve.  He was dressed much more casually this time in a pair of black sweats and a gray t-shirt that looked about two sizes too small.  His arm muscles practically ripping the seams of his shirt.  It was definitely a sight to see.  

Steve was leaned over the island counter looking at some paperwork and turned when he heard the two of you enter.  This time, a small smile graced his lips.  He walked right up to you and quickly apologized.  “I’m sorry for the way I acted the other day.  I’ve been under a lot of stress and while I couldn’t be more happy to have finally met you, the timing is just not that great.  I truly am sorry and I hope you can forgive me.”

Looking up into those baby blue eyes of his, your body melts.  You hadn’t noticed the first time you saw him just how bright his eyes were. Could you forgive him?  Sure, you could only imaging how stressful of a job this must be for him and the rest of the Avengers.  

“Yeah, I forgive you Steve,” you replied with a close lipped smile.  

“Great, why don’t we head into the living room and we can talk,” he said as he held his arm out towards the living room.  

You sat on the large couch, right in the middle while both Steve and Bucky sat on the chairs on either side of the couch.  Both men had their hands clasped together with their elbows on their knees, leaning forward.  They were watching you intently, waiting for your decision.  

“Umm, alright I can start,” you began to say, giving your lips a lick as your mouth felt parched.  “After two days of thinking it over, I have decided to move in here…if that’s ok with you both.”  Why were you so nervous this time around?  Was it because Steve was actually being nicer and taking his time to talk to you rather than talk down to you?  Was it because both men were intently staring at you?  Whatever it was, you hadn’t felt quite this nervous in some time.  

“Of course it would be alright with us if you moved in.  Isn’t that right Buck?”

“Absolutely,” Bucky replied, a bright smile on his face.  

Giving both men a shaky nod, you chewed on  your lower lip nervously, knowing what was coming next and you just hoped they weren’t going to be too terrible.  And if they were, hopefully they would be willing to compromise on a few.  

Steve cleared his throat as he stood up from his chair; Bucky following his lead as they both stood in front of you.  “Should we go over the rules then?” Steve asked with authority in his tone, but you knew that was just part of him being the ‘alpha’ of this relationship.  Giving him a subtle nod, Steve began with the rules.

“Rule number one.  You are not to leave the tower by yourself.  You either have one of us go with you or at least get someone else living in the tower to go with you.  We would prefer one of us, but if we are on a mission, then that’s understandable.  We don’t want you getting hurt and we only want to protect you,” he stated.  

Ok, this wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be.  While you were more of a hermit anyways, not really going out much even during the day, this rule seemed pretty easy to follow.  “I can agree to that rule,” came your reply.  

“Good, rule number two. No lying.  We want an open and honest relationship and if you lie to us, we can’t help you and it will certainly not help with trusting you. Same goes for us.  We won’t lie to you either.  Deal?”

“Deal.”  Wow, this was much easier than you thought.  

“Rule number three. No touching yourself without one of us.” And there it goes, all out the window. You could feel the embarrassment creep up on your neck and cheeks.  “I know this rule can be a little out there.  But Bucky and I want to be the ones that give you pleasure.”

You weren’t innocent, of course you got yourself off.  Hell, you had a whole drawer full of toys.  But this seemed a little excessive.  You didn’t plan on jumping into the sack with either of them for a while, not until you got to know them and bringing pleasure to yourself was one of your biggest stress relievers.  

“Ok, but what if you two are on a mission for weeks, if not months?”

Bucky and Steve gave each other a look.  It seemed as if they were speaking to each other telepathically, knowing what the other was thinking just by that one look.  

“How about this,” Bucky began to say, his shoulders relaxing.  “If we are gone on a mission that is more than two weeks, we can try phone sex perhaps.  That way one of us is still technically bringing you pleasure with at least our voice.”

Letting out a breath, you thought about it for a minute.  It’s not like you were a sex crazed maniac; you didn’t need to get off five times a day.  It would be difficult though, especially in the beginning of the relationship, but it was possible.  “Ok.  I’ll agree to that.”

“Good,” Steve stated, giving you little smile.  “Rule four. You don’t need any money or income. Bucky and I have more than enough for us to live very comfortably and we can provide for you.  We would like you to not work if you do have a job right now.”

“Nope.  Hard no,” you exclaimed.  You loved your job, it was your passion, your hobby.  When you were dating John, he made you give it up. When you told him no, well, that was the first time he hit you.  He had backhanded you across your face, leaving you bruised for weeks.  When you finally got out of that relationship and he was thrown in jail, your job was the only thing to keep you from falling over the edge.  “Look, I don’t need my job either.  It pays well and I’m good at saving.  I have plenty of money in the bank for a rainy day.  But I can’t not do my job.  It is my passion and my one true hobby.  I am begging you, please don’t make me quit,” you spoke with a trembling lip and damp eyes.  

In the blink of an eye, Steve was sitting down to your right, Bucky to your left.  They each placed a hand on your knee in comfort.  “Maybe we can compromise on this then.  What is it that you do for a living?” Bucky questioned.

Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes and willed the tears away.  “I’m a gamer.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t really know what that means,” Steve said.  

“A gamer.  I go online and play games on a site called Twitch. I live stream as I play games and people watch me.”

“People watch you to play games online and you get paid to do that?” Bucky asked with confusion.  

A chuckle left your lips. “I know. It sounds silly.  But I love it.  I really do.  I work from home.  I make my own hours.  I can work ten days in a row if I want and I can take a month off if I want.”

“So how often do you work?” came Steve’s question.  

You shrugged your shoulders. “It depends.  Lately I’ve been working about four to five nights a week on average.  But if we compromise, I can easily go down to two nights a week and I’d still be ok with that.”

There it was again, Steve and Bucky looking at each other.  You swore they were talking with their minds, but then again, they have known each other for what, over 100 years now?

“Alright.  Two nights a week we will start out with.”  You squealed in excitement as your arms wrapped around Steve’s neck in a tight hug before doing the same to Bucky.  

“Thank you for compromising with me,” you sputtered in excitement.  “Are there any other rules?”

“Just one more for the time being.  If we need to come up with more rules along the way we will.  But for the last rule, we want you to be healthy.  That means eating three meals a day and getting a good night’s rest.  We don’t want you up at all hours of the night and sleeping during the day.  We try to eat as many meals as possible together. Mainly breakfast and lunch during the weekends and dinner every night if possible.”

Well, that one will be really difficult for you to deal with.  You never ate breakfast.  Hell, you barely ate lunch.  You really only ate on average one meal a day and then snacks here and there.  “I can definitely try with the eating three meals a day.  I normally only eat one meal a day and then have snacks but I promise to try.  But when I do my job, it is done at night and sometimes I am up a little later than normal.”

Steve nodded and you watched as his jaw clenched.  “Just try to get to bed at a reasonable hour on those few nights a week that you work alright?”

There was this deep feeling inside of you that made you not want to upset your soulmate so you quickly nodded your head in agreement.  

“I do have one question,” you asked quietly.

“Go ahead,” Steve responded, eyes on you.

“What if I do break a rule? What happens then?”

Steve cocked his head to the side, thinking about it.  “Well, I guess it depends on what rule you break and how severely you break it.  It could be something as simple as not being able to go to your hobby room on the communal floor, or having you spend time in your room alone.  This is new territory for us to so we might have to make the punishments up as we go.”

“Ok, that sounds doable,” you agreed.  

Bucky touched the small of your back and you turned to face him.  “Is there anything in particular on your end you wanted to say?  Any kind of rules for us  you wanted to discuss?”  

You thought about it for a minute, but only one came to mind.  “Yeah,” you began to speak quietly as you looked down at your hands in your lap. “You can call me doll and sweetheart and any other terms of endearment like that.  But please don’t call me ‘babe’.”  Memories of John growling out that word to you as he punched and kicked you until your ribs broke came flooding back to you.  You never wanted to be called that word again.  

“I think we can manage that,” Bucky agreed.

“That won’t be a problem on our end at all,” Steve quipped.  “Now how about we order some pizza and we can get to know you a little better?”

Just then, your stomach grumbled at the thought of pizza.  You were starving.  “Pizza sounds amazing right now.”

[zaina-xoxo]

Harry Potter headcanons (sad)

That Hermione and Ron always wanted a huge family. Like, 5 children filling a burrow. However, they ended up with only two. Why? Hermione’s torture at the hands of Bellatrix left its marks, and she couldn’t have children after Hugo. Dark Magic always left marks.

That Dumbledore never really left limbo. He stayed there forever, unable to allow himself to move due to the blood he had on his hands, lives he sacrificed for the greater good.

That George dyed his hair blue after the battle in order to stop reminding himself of Fred every time he saw a mirror.

That Grindelwald never stopped loving Dumbledore, and during their final duel, he actually had an opportunity to kill him, but couldn’t gather the will. Dumbledore used that moment to win.

That during Snape’s death, those tears with the memories, were also a sacrifice. Those tears were the memories themselves. So, when he died and went to the afterlife … he didn’t remember the person most featured in those memories, the one they focused on. In death, he never remembered Lily.

After the battle of hogwarts, Dennis Creevey becomes a photographer …. which was what his brother, Colin, had wanted to become when he grew up.

That Sirius willingly fell into the veil, which only kills if you completely were thrown into it. What happened was that half of his body went to the other side, and he was immediately assaulted by whispers of his dead loved ones, especially lily and James. He died with a smile, as he jumped in to his next great adventure.

That for the first fifteen years of his life, what Tom Riddle saw in the Mirror of Erised was himself with his parents in a rich household, in a loving family. All he wanted was to be loved. All that changed when he made his first horcrux.

That Dumbledore’s boggart was himself. And, that it really was him who killed Ariana, something he found out in the afterlife.

When Ron was a little boy he overheard his aunt Muriel talking to her friend that how amazing Ron's elder brothers were. But she called Ron ‘Molly's failed attempt for a girl’. She also said that Ron was worthless and he was no one compared to his elder brothers. Ron had developed insecurities about not being good enough from that overheard conversation.

When Ron left in DH Hermione wrote a letter. Conveying EVERYTHING she felt for him. She was almost certain that she would never see him again. She would never be able to tell him how she felt for him. She kept that letter in her beaded bag. Years later Ron found out that letter. And he cried.

Once during an auror mission Ron was injured badly. He almost died. Hermione didn't leave his side for once. When he was slightly better, Hermione told him that she was pregnant. That was when Ron had decided to quit his job.

When Ron and Hermione were staying at the shell cottage Hermione had a long conversation with Fleur. Hermione told her that there was a huge chance that she wouldn't survive the battle of Hogwarts. She was a muggleborn afterall. So if something happened she wanted Ron to move on with his life. She wanted Fleur to promise her that she would help Ron to move on with his life.

When the flashing green light came rushing at James Potter's way he didn't see death, but was reminded of two pairs of vibrant green eyes staring lovingly at him.

Death works differently in the HPU. Once you die, you have the choice to stay in limbo for as long as you want, or to take the train. You could also become a ghost. However, along with that there’s also the choice of becoming a creature which is the embodiment of death - a thestral. This is why Luna has a favourite Thestral, and why there’s a huge influx of them in the forbidden forest after the battle of hogwarts.

Neville kept visiting his parents. With every milestone that he hit — graduating Hogwarts, marrying Hannah Abbott, being hired as a professor — he made it a tradition to see them. It was not until he visited with a baby girl in his arms, Alice Francesca Longbottom, that he saw a flash of recognition in his mother’s eyes.

The day Harry was born, all the marauders found themselves in St. Mungo’s. Hours later, Remus awoke in his chair just in time to see a black-haired man with a crooked nose regarding the new-born. With a last glance upon Lily he left, seemingly unseen.

As a child Teddy had a huge crush on his Aunt Hermione, and he would often give her flowers and ask her if they could get married someday. Once he grew up, he was commonly teased about his childhood crush on his aunt (not sad)

During the first few years that Severus was teaching at Hogwarts, all of the other teachers were very uncertain of him. They all thought that Dumbledore was mad for hiring him, as they all knew of his reputation as a Death Eater. But eventually he struck up a very playful rivalry with Minerva. They would sit together at Quidditch matches and pass snarky comments back and forth, both of them snorting in amusement. It also wasn’t uncommon to find them sat together in the evenings, having a cup of tea or a glass of firewhiskey. By the time Harry Potter came to Hogwarts, Minerva believed in him almost as much as Dumbledore did. (He often urged Severus to tell her the real reason he defected from the Death Eaters, but Severus always refused.) His hatred of the young Gryffindor was often a point of contention between the two unlikely friends, but their friendship remained strong. It withstood Voldemort’s return and the reformation of the Order of the Phoenix. But in the aftermath of the Battle of the Astronomy Tower and Dumbledore’s death, Minerva was completely shocked and outraged. She couldn’t believe she’d ever befriended him at all and swore she’d never forgive herself for trusting him. During the last year the two taught together she avoided him at all costs, talking to him only when it was absolutely necessary, and when she had to she did so rather stiffly. After the Battle of Hogwarts ended and he was dead, however, she learned the truth about his actions from Harry, who told her about his tragic tale. She cried on and off for days. And the first time she came face to face with his portrait she completely broke down.

Had Fred not died, the twins would have had an overly casual double wedding [and would probably switch places to mess with their brides]

When Remus woke up in Harry’s compartment in POA, he saw Harry giving him the same comforting and concerned look as James. For a moment he thought he was seeing James again. Then in sunk in that his dear friend was dead and it was James’ son.

Teddy saw Sirius’ picture once. He didn’t know who he was, so he changed himself to look like him. It was only when he grew up that he understood why Harry started crying when he saw him.

Once Professor McGonagall was made headmistress, she let Hagrid become a student. Harry saw Hagrid’s Patronus for the first time in his life three years after the war. It was Hedwig.

When Petunia and Lily were little, they would read Alice in Wonderland. Petunia would read Dudley the book, fully knowing he didn’t like it. She was reading it for Harry, who was listening from inside his cupboard. Petunia believed she owed this to Lily.

When Harry was a baby, he didn’t know his own name. Each of the marauders gave him a nickname. (James called him troublemaker.) When he lived with the Dursleys, and they called him a “troublemaker”, toddler Harry would get excited thinking that his dad was going to take him away from these horrible people.

During the Battle of Hogwarts, Nearly-Headless Nick’s head finally came off. Hence, he had to join the Headless Hunt. Thus, Gryffindor needed a new applicant. The new house ghost was a 17-year-old redheaded man and a large group of 12 students were excited to meet their beloved uncle.

When Teddy Lupin was a baby, his color turned into the person he wanted to hold him. Occasionally, it was Harry or Ginny or any other Weasley. But one day it turned pink and he could do nothing about it.

The Marauders used to take turns babysitting Harry, and it became a tradition to pass the baby and say, “You’re it. Good luck.” And the last thing Sirius saw as he fell through the veil was Remus holding Harry, and the last thought that went though his head was, “You’re it. Good luck.”

After Fred’s funeral, George does not return to the Burrow until about a year later. He refuses to go upstairs where his and Fred’s old room is and barely says a word. His hair is some wild outrageous color, cropped short and crooked, and Mrs. Weasley goes into a fit. She loudly asks why he would do that to himself, and is not prepared when he says, “I kept seeing him in the mirror.”

It’s the year after the Battle of Hogwarts. The school is still being repaired and the class size has dwindled down to pitiful numbers. And the Thestrals are so excited about the newfound attention they’d been getting.

Dobby wrote a will in which he sent Harry over 200 pairs of socks, Ron a pair of trainers, and a misshapen hat for Hermione.

No matter what he was doing or who he was with, Harry would always stop and pet any stray dog that he came across. If he could, he would give them any food he had. Eventually he became known as the man with the treats. Not Harry Potter or the Chosen One; just the quiet man with dogbones. When dogs would bound up to him, throwing their paws onto his chest and barking with glee at his arrival, he was reminded irresistibly of Sirius.

At Colin’s funeral, Harry didn’t say a word. He had been to so many funerals recently that pleasantries felt like a waste of breath, and how terrible would it be for him to waste his breath when he was so lucky to have it? He stood silent and watching, and as the last of the attendees left, Harry placed a tiny picture on Colin’s grave, taken by the late boy himself. It was the only autograph Harry Potter would ever give.

On May 2nd, 1998, Hogwarts held a moment of silence for the fallen. Not a single portrait stirred, not a single stair shifted. Even Peeves ducked into a corner and went silent. Then, when the silence ended, millions of different colored sparks took off into the sky.

Tonks is easily excitable and loved entertaining Hermione and Ginny with her Metamorphosis abilities. One day, she found a picture of Harry in Sirius’ room to turn herself into, and ran downstairs to show Remus and Sirius. And it wasn’t until Tonks watched their hearts break that she realized Harry’s eyes were the wrong color.

Harry kept each and every one of the sweaters that Mrs. Weasley had knitted him. One day while cleaning, she saw them folded with so much care in his drawer. She turned to see Harry wearing his newest Christmas Sweater proudly, like it was the greatest honor he could have been given, and she burst into tears.

One day, Harry accidentally calls Mrs. Weasley “Mum” instead of Molly. His face goes bright red, fumbling with apologies, and she (once again) burst into tears.

The first thing Draco Malfoy did after the war was Apparate into Muggle London and march straight into a tattoo parlor. He emerges, his face still bloody and burned, with an arm void of a black skull. Instead, he looks down at the skin covered in flowers and the skull changed into a silhouette of the castle, and smiles for the first time in two years.

George pulls Harry aside:

(“Harry, you’ve died, haven’t you?”

Harry looked up at George and regarded him, careful not to let any incredulousness show in his eyes — he knew all too well of the torment George must be feeling, of the weight in what he was visibly preparing himself to say.

“I have,” said Harry carefully.

George dipped his head; as he did, Harry caught something in his eyes that pained him so deeply, he was grateful George had tried to hide it from him.

“Does it...” George spoke to his shoes, and his voice sounded much older than Harry remembered. “Did... Did dying hurt, Harry? D’you think… that Freddie was in pain when...”

But George did not need to specify. Like he had been smacked right across the face with the words left unspoken, Harry knew, and it was a long time before he answered.

“It didn’t hurt,” said Harry resolutely, like he was deciding it right then and there.“It didn’t?”

“Quicker and easier than falling asleep.”)

When Remus Lupin took the Map from Harry, he sat there for hours, opening and reopening it wrong on purpose just to see the clever insults sprout on the paper. It was almost like his friends, alive and well, were talking to him for the first time in 12 years.

The day Molly Weasley dies, the first thing she sees is a girl with red hair sprinting toward her. She panics, thinking it might be Ginny, but she sees startling green eyes and knows who it is immediately. Lily Potter pulls Mrs. Weasley into a hug and in a choked voice, whispers, “Thank you.”

Harry memorized every name of the 50 Fallen after the war ends. The day he dies, old and surrounded by his children, he repeats their names in his head like a mantra and begs for their forgiveness.

Eleven years later, at Hogwarts, students fill a corridor filled with portraits of those who died in the Battle of Hogwarts. They look for Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and other famous faces, but there’s a blue-haired first year in their midst, trying desperately to remember what his parents had looked like.

James Potter lost both of his parents at once. The news was delivered to him by Professor McGonagall with Sirius by his side, but James was in denial. He kept insisting that she was lying, and it wasn’t until Sirius broke down into tears that James knew, and it broke him.

Crookshanks was the Potters family cat mentioned in sirius' letter and escaped godrics hollow after Halloween and managed to find the magical menagerie. He found hermione and stayed with her because harry was only allowed hedwig and Ron already had scabbers. This is why he was especially angry towards Ron, due to smelling his masters betrayer on him, and didn't run away from sirius’ grim form.

Hedwig was a guardian angel. Hedwig is smarter than most owls and other animals in the magical world, often appearing to harry when he needs to write a letter. Female snow owls like hedwig are mostly white but they have grey marks and spots on their back wings, hedwig is portrayed as a white male snowy owl. White as an angelic being perhaps Perhaps? Perhaps hedwig was sent by his parents as a guard and friend to him, its why hedwig didn't want anyone else adopting her.

Dementors come from the death eater who were thrown into the Veil. Ever wonder why the veil of death is barley used? After the souls escape to the after life the bodies of those who enter become husks of their former selves, hungry for souls. Unmasked before thrown in with only the cloaks on their backs.

Four years after the Battle of Hogwarts, Molly Weasley was busy preparing food for Ron’s birthday. She mistakenly barked to George, “Get that chicken out of the oven, Fred!” George silently whispered, “Honestly, woman, you call yourself our mother?”

JK Rowling has revealed that Lily Potter was pregnant was her second child when she was killed. Even worse, she had convinced James to make Snape the godfather of the child.

At Luna’s wedding, the whole of the front seats were reserved. Harry went up to her at the end of service and asked, “Luna, who’s sitting there?” Luna smiled her usual smile and said, “Right. They did sit here in a spiritual way I suppose.” She pointed the seats one by one, “Right, that’s for my mother, those are for your parents, that one is for Sirius, that one is for Professor Lupin, that one is for Tonks, then Mad-Eye, then Fred Weasley, then Professor Dumbledore, and then Professor Snape. Right then, bye!” Harry had never felt so touched before.

The reason Bellatrix was so wretchedly insane and slavishly devoted to Voldemort was that she lived for the promise that one day, if she did enough, someone might say “I love you” back. I know that she doesn’t deserve this but for love… wow Bellatrix.

When Harry and Ginny went to search for a house to live in they found an apparently perfect house, Ginny loves it, but Harry rejects with a clear excuse about it being too big for them. Ginny doesn’t notice Harry’s fixed look on the Cupboard under the stairs.

Before the Horcrux hunt, Ron and Hermione decided, that if either of them had to choose between saving each other's lives or Harry’s, they had to choose Harry for the sake of the world. No matter how painful it would be for them to let go of each other.

Sirius and Remus saved memories for Harry. Remus left them for Harry in his will, when Harry got a hold of them he got to see a part of James he never got to see in Snape's memory.

After the battle of Hogwarts, Neville went to visit his parents to tell them about it. After he finished, his mother, who normally spoke nonsense, smiled and said one word: “Proud”

On November 3rd 1981, Sirius Black sat alone in a cell in Azkaban softly singing: “Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me, happy birthday dear Sirius...” whilst tears streamed down his face, wishing he could go back in time.

Mr. and Mrs. Potter, James and Sirius were out in public together one sunny afternoon. The elderly couple was talking to someone with that someone asking, “Oh, are these your sons?” Sirius turned beet red and becoming utterly flustered. Mr. Potter simply smiled and says, “Yes, they are.” With Mrs. Potter nodding proudly in agreement. Never once did they think to reply in any other way.

Harry as a preschooler drew two blond blots and a big black blot with a little black one standing a bit further away beside them with “My Family” scratched over the top and presented it to Uncle Vernon who ripped it apart and threw it away right in front of him.

When Harry and Ginny were married they moved to a house in Godric’s Hollow. After Lily was born and got older, she would visit her grandmother and namesake's grave everyday and leave lilies.

Harry Potter died at the ripe age of 101 surrounded by his loved ones, when he opened his eyes again he returned to the place he parted from his old mentor many years ago, but it wasn't Albus Dumbledore who greeted him at the station this time around. Standing a few feet away from him where a young couple patiently waiting for the son they were ripped away from so long ago to take him home and Harry Potter, the boy who lived, went gladly.

After the war, Minerva McGonagall went into a spiral of depression. It was brought on by watching so many students grow and die before her eyes.

At Ginny’s wedding she danced with George twice so it would feel like she was dancing with Fred.

After the second Wizarding War, everyone who died was given a chocolate frog card. When Teddy Lupin was on the train going to his first year of Hogwarts, he got the cards that had his parents on them, and it was like they were sending him off themselves.

These made me cry when I read them, I just can't :(

[dulcectdecorum]

mid morning, a few days post tower, a nice balcony at the back of the manor ( @theshcdowman​​. )

With the manor at least temporarily less than ideal as a safe, neutral meeting point with his brother, Dulce has been fretting over options of the best course of action regarding his brother and the target on his back since everyone (relatively) settled in his home after the Tower. The issue with that, besides being utterly stretched thin between playing house dad to four guests, making certain they’re safe and fed, but also not breaking anything in his home, and keeping the man-slash-robot who shot him twice under his control at all times until Dr. Green can come and figure out how the fuck to deprogram him or something, he doesn’t have a lot of brainpower for critical thinking. 

He’s exhausted, which is why, in the end, as it feels like time is growing thin to take care of this before Preston and his mysterious benefactor send someone after Claudius who will actually kill him, he settles on risking the meeting at the manor, and sucking it up to face White and her displeasure head on, should she find out he’s around and call him into a meeting before he can leave again.

And so they plan the meeting, knowing it’s best if Claudius comes separately, to continue keeping whoever might be watching off the trail that they’re not going to follow through on the list of names for the Shadow Man to kill he’s been given. He arrives early, of course, wanting to make certain they can have privacy––or as much privacy as is possible in a mansion full of eavesdroppers––and tea, knowing how deeply unpleasant Claudius is going to be able having to come here, a place he swore he’d never set foot in, after what it made their father into.

Dulce is already out on the balcony, tea and a very generous assortment of baked goods waiting for Claudius and Shadow thanks to Jay, when he turns to see the very same leading his brother out to him. He gives them a thank you, before stepping forward to meet Claudius. But, of course, the bastard doesn’t even offer a hello in greeting, launching into his complaints immediately, as he steps out onto the balcony.

“You know you owe me. Forcing me to stay with Mum for a week straight, and then asking me to come here. Really, Tiberius, if I didn’t know any better I’d think you were trying to send me to an early grave,” he hums, as he goes to sit at the table, clearly not impressed in the least with any of this.

“Oh, I am,” he says blandly, rolling his eyes. “But I have a strong feeling what I’m trying to do for you in that regard is going to cancel that out. Eat a piece of coffee cake, it’ll calm you down. I don’t want you acting an arsehole when Shadow gets here; I happen to like having him around, and I’d rather you not make him regret choosing to spend his time with me.”

Claudius doesn’t look up as he pours himself a cup of tea. “I don’t like coffee cake. Too sweet,” he corrects. “What a way to meet your first boyfriend in fifteen years.”

“Then eat a bloody scone, Claudius,” Dulce hisses. He’s about to go on, object to the fifteen years part, and to remind Claudius this is serious, even if he knows full well his brother will stop with the theatrics once they get down to business, when the door opens again, and he looks up to see Shadow. He heaves a sigh of relief, and crosses to him. “Speak of the devil.”

He doesn’t bother tempering the need for touch here, even if he knows Claudius will, indeed, be a littler brother about it. But he needs the brief moment of contact, pressing a kiss to Shadow’s cheek, giving a small embrace. “I apologize in advanced for him. Our family has never been good at first impressions,” he mutters, as he pulls back, hands staying on his upper arms just for a second. He can practically hear the eye roll behind him. “Thank you, for doing this now. I know it’s still not a good time for any of us.”

[ur-riddikulus]

You’re Worth It (Bucky Barnes)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You are the resident therapist for the Avengers and Steve asks you for a favor. He wants you to have a therapy session with Bucky. Then you find out that Bucky wasn’t exactly aware of this plan.

Warnings: some cursing, Bucky’s angsty past, a couple small sexual innuendo. Also like a ton of angst but I promise that it does get better lol.

A/N: This is my first fanfic on here. I posted some Harry Potter ones before this, but I reread them and thought I could do better. So, here we are! Thank you for reading and if you want this to turn into more parts, I can totally do that. <3

You had been in your office preparing for your next patient when Steve walked in.

“Hey, Dr. Y/L/N, can I ask you for a favor?” He asked, putting his hands in a praying motion.

“Yeah, absolutely! I do have a patient soon, though.” You replied. You were glad to help, Steve is a great patient and has been improving impressively. So well, in fact, you didn’t know if he would even need to see you much longer.

“Do you know Bucky Barnes? He’s an old pal of mine. He has been against going to therapy for a long time, but you’ve helped me so much and Bucky needs some help too I think. Plus, he saw you around the tower and thought you were cute.” Steve says.

You blushed at that last part, silently wishing you didn’t. You had a rule against dating any patient or anyone in the tower, since it would just be awkward when you inevitably break up. Every relationship you’ve ever been in hasn’t lasted long, considering you’ve never been able to find someone you truly liked.

“Yeah, of course I know Bucky. You don’t shut up about him during your therapy sessions and I’ve seen him sulking around the tower myself. I would love to help him, but like I said, I have another patient soon. I will only have therapy with him if it’s his choice though. And I think he’s absolutely gorgeous but I have a rule against dating anyone who lives or works in the Tower.” You explained.

You looked at the time, Tony Stark, your next patient, would be here any minute. You were the sole therapist for Avengers Tower. There maybe should have been another one, but Tony had one session with you and said that you were the best he’s ever had and no one would ever dare be a therapist and step into his tower again. He even gave you the title of ‘Chief of Mental Health’ despite being literally the only person in that department.

Steve must have noticed you checking your watch, because he said ,”Oh, and I bribed Tony to change his appointment and give it to Bucky, so you kind of have no choice.” 

You looked up, “What? Who knew that Mr. Captain America himself was a cunning little bitch.” You joked, shaking your head. You and Steve, hell, you and everyone in the tower had that kind of relationship. And, he knew you swore like a sailor, so he even ignored it sometimes.

At that moment, Bucky walked in. He looked so handsome with his shoulder-length hair and baby blue eyes. He even looked a little nervous. Well, that’s not surprising, you thought. Everyone, even you, was a tad nervous on the first session.

Steve put up one finger and said, “Let me talk to Buck alone for one moment.” You nodded and he walked Bucky out to the hallway and shut your door. You heard whispers being exchanged and was a little confused but whatever, you thought. You were sure he’s just giving Bucky encouragement. 

You went over and sat down on your grey seat and picked up your chamomile tea. That was probably your favorite part of being a therapist, getting to sit down in comfy chairs all day with your tea. Besides helping people of course.

The door opened once again, with Bucky and Steve reappearing. “Thanks for doing this again, Dr. Y/L/N! Bucky will love you.” Steve said, patting Bucky on the back. You smiled and he exited, leaving only a nervous-looking Bucky standing there.

“Why don’t you come over and sit on the comfortable couch across from me, Bucky?” You motion, pointing over to the couch across from your current chair. He nods and goes to the couch. Well, at least he looks a bit more comfortable, you think to yourself.

“So, what do you want to talk about? Anything is on the table.” You say. You’ve found that not going straight to the tough topics help patients build their trust with you more.

“Well, doll, how about you tell me about yourself first.” He says, getting a bit more confident now. Doll? That’s an odd name to call your therapist. But whatever, you’re sure they used it a lot in the old days. Letting it slide, you try to answer his question.

“Well, I was born and raised here in New York City. I got my PhD. in psychology from NYU and I have an apartment in Brooklyn. I got this job after only one session with Tony Stark and now I am the therapist for the Avengers.” Sure, it was a lot of work, but you absolutely loved your job. Helping the heroes who risk their life to save yours and everyone else’s was the least you could do, you thought.

Bucky nodded and said, “I’m from Brooklyn. Looks much different now than it did when I lived there though. A PhD.? Damn doll, you must be super smart.”

You smiled at his compliment. “Thank you. It wasn’t easy, but it was definitely worth all the late nights studying.”

“So, anything else you want to know about me before we get started?” You asked, getting your notebook to prepare to write notes about Bucky and how to best help him. 

“Get started? Damn, doll. I was thinking we could grab a coffee before we ‘get started.’ But it’s good with me, I guess the girls roll a little different in this time than the 40′s.” Bucky says, chuckling to himself.

You were in the middle of getting to the correct page in the notebook but paused when you heard what he said. What did he think you meant when you said ‘get started’? It sounded very different from your meaning. And getting coffee? It almost sounded like he thought this was a date? You shook your head at that thought. No way could he possibly be that confused. And Steve said he thought you were cute, but you seriously doubted that the Bucky Barnes would even consider going on a date with you. So no, it definitely couldn’t be that. But whatever he thought this was, there was obviously a miscommunication that you had to clear up.

“Uh, Bucky? I think you must be confused. Steve told me that he convinced you to have a therapy session with me this afternoon. What did you think this was?” You ask, a little scared of the answer. 

At hearing this, Bucky seemed very confused. “What do you mean, Steve told me that we were meeting here before going out on our date?”

Now it’s your turn to be confused. What does he mean by ‘our date’? 

“Uh, Steve never said to me that we were going on a date. He told me that he convinced you to have a therapy session with me...” You said, shaking your head in confusion. This made no sense, what was going on?

Apparently that was the conclusion Bucky just got to as well,  because he looked up, a little embarrassed and said, “I’m so sorry. Steve told me that you wanted to go on a date with me and that we were going to meet in your office before going out. I never would have agreed to this if I knew what he was really doing. I’m just going to leave, I’m so sorry for wasting your time.” Bucky raced his hand through his long hair and stood up, walking to the door.

At first, you were a little stunned. The Steve you knew, the world knew, would never pull a trick on anyone, especially his best friend. You knew him enough through your sessions to know that he would only do this if he absolutely had to. Which means he must be desperate for his friend to get the mental help he needed. Also, Bucky was just so damn cute and you have had the biggest crush on him ever since you went to the Captain America exhibit in the local museum for a school trip. You always saw him in the pictures with Steve, his heart-stopping smile still doing wonders on you despite the worn black and white photo.

So, you jumped up right when his hand touched the door handle to leave and probably never see you again. “W-Wait!” You said, hating your stutter but just cringed and kept going when you saw him turn around curiously. “While you’re here you might as well just talk to me. If you hate it, you never have to see me again and can just ignore me in the halls. But, if this session does help you, maybe we can schedule a bit more and see where it goes. I really think I can help you, Bucky.” After you finish your awkward speech, you just smiled and waited for his definite and irreversible no. Well, at least you got the chance to help him, you thought. 

He just sighed and shrugged saying, “Well, I’m already here I guess. But are you sure this could end at any time and that you even want to help me after my dumb friend tricked me into embarrassing myself?” 

You smiled and that last part and smiled, just grateful for the opportunity to help someone so burdened and has done so much for the world. 

Bucky walked back over the his chair and said, “So, Doc, how do we start this?”

You grabbed your notebook again and turned to the right page again. “This is your session, it can start with however you want. But it might help to start from the beginning. How did you feel when you got drafted into a World War when you were only 18?”

He looked deep in thought and said, “Wow, no one ever asked me that.” He sighed before adding, “Of course it was my duty to fight and all that, but I was angry at the world for forcing kids who just barely turned adults to fight their wars for them. I knew it was going to be an adventure, but honestly I was scared shitless, doll.”

You nod, your empathy for him skyrocketing even though you guys just started.

And that’s how your bi-weekly sessions with Bucky would usually go. You guys talked about a whole manner of things, like his past in the 1940′s, his brainwashing with HYDRA, Steve saving him, and his nightmares from everything included. You two were closer than you normally let yourself get to patients. You didn’t know if it was because of everything he had gone through, or maybe even that you finally got to talk and help the Avenger who needed you most, but you honestly didn’t care. Your sessions with him really seemed to help him and now he hasn’t had a nightmare in over 2 months. Bucky seemed a lot happier and waved and talked to you in the halls. Steve even said that he hasn’t seen Bucky like this since the 40′s. You thought that with all things considered, he had a ton of improvement. You two had only been meeting for about 6 months and his progress was truly great;

You tried to forget that in your first meeting he thought you were going on a date and even apparently called you pretty. You knew that nothing romantic should ever come out of your patient and therapist relationship since it was obviously wrong. Every therapist knew that under no circumstances should you date your patient. It would always hurt the patient’s mental health even more and that was the opposite of your job. You suppose it could technically happen if you stopped being his personal therapist but it wouldn’t be worth it. All of his hard work would have been for nothing. 

But you couldn’t help but think what if? What if it ended up working out? What if he got another therapist and you could date him? What if he was the one? But no, you were getting ahead of yourself, you thought. Bucky was great and handsome and so, so perfect. He was honestly everything you wanted in a partner. And still, you couldn’t take the leap. If it didn’t work out and you were possibly the reason his mental health got worse you could never forgive yourself. So every appointment with him you just smiled and tried to ignore that pressing need, even though you were beating yourself up for either being a coward or for being so selfish that you wanted to take that chance.

One day you were in the middle of researching new ways to help a client’s recent mental health issue and trying to (and failing) ignore a certain issue when Bucky walked in with a bouquet of your favorite flowers and a nervous look on his face. You stood up, very confused but nonetheless making yourself known. 

“Uh, Y/N? Could I maybe talk to you for a minute?” He asked. You’ve never seen him dressed so well. Normally he just wore either workout clothes or sweatpants. You two even often joked together that he owned no normal clothes. 

“Yeah of course. I’m sorry I didn’t know we had a session today.” You said, cursing yourself for making such a mistake. Usually you were pretty good with schedules, even though working with the entire compound was a bit much to remember. 

“Oh, we don’t. I just wanted to ask you a question.” Bucky said, biting his lip. A nervous tick that you soon discovered in one of your early sessions together.

“Sure, ask away.” You replied. You were getting a little worried. Surely he didn’t want to end your appointments together, right? Did you do something wrong?

“First of all, these are for you.” He said nervously as he handed you the flowers. You smiled, surprised that he remembered you telling him your that your favorite was y/f/f while complaining that the local florist didn’t have them during one of your bi-weekly meetings. “Thank you, these are absolutely beautiful. I love them.” You smiled and walked over to a window ledge with a vase on it and put them in, admiring how they looked in the sunlight.

When you were finished admiring them you walked back over to Bucky. “Thank you again, they really are beautiful. I don’t even remember the last time someone was so nice and got flowers for me.” You said and hugged him. You knew he wasn’t that great with personal touch but surprised you when he hugged you back pretty quickly. For a moment you just focused on being in his arms but then soon thought of how inappropriate it would look to an outsider and reluctantly pulled away. 

“So, what did you want to ask? Is everything okay?” You ask, quickly remembering that something could be wrong with him.

“Yeah, of course everything is fine. You truly are a great therapist, Y/N. You’ve got a gift.” Bucky said. You blushed at his words and hated that your color would give away your inappropriate feelings possibly. His words did calm you down though. But if it wasn’t about therapy, then what else could it be about?

Feeling your blush go down finally, you nodded and urged him to go on, now too curious to wait it felt like.

He sighed and nervously ran his hand through his hair. “You have to promise me that if this goes wrong, our relationship won’t be ruined. It’s too important for me to ruin by being an idiot.” You immediately promised. Normally you would be cautious about such a thing but you have never trusted anyone this quickly and this much with Bucky.

After he saw your quick agreement, he went on. “So, these past couple weeks, well since we’ve started meeting actually, I was interested in you. I was never going to act on it in a million years but you’ve helped me so much and I think we could really be great together. And Steve might have noticed me staring at you and telling me I should do something about it.” He chuckled. “So, want to go on a real date? I would go the whole 9 yards, nice restaurant and everything. But I don’t want to pressure you into anything you don’t want to do and know that our relationship isn’t necessarily the easiest to become romantic. I just think you're worth it, doll. You're worth all of it.” He stopped and bit his lip again, waiting for your response.

Your heart soared when you heard his speech. No one had every made you feel this way. You were about to say yes, so close in fact, but then you remembered the real truth. You are his therapist, his doctor, his advocate. That was special and meant something to you. You knew he wanted this but it was your responsibility to make the hard choice, to do what you honestly hated to do but thought was right.

“No, Buck. I’m sorry but I can’t. I just think it could ruin all your hard work and that’s the last thing that I want to do. It just shouldn’t be risked.” You said. Telling him that felt like vomit was coming up and you felt even worse when you saw him look dejected and lose his smile so quickly because of you.

You moved your arm to touch his and try to support him the best you could within your boundaries but he saw you trying to do it and moved before you could touch him. And that really hurt. 

You opened your mouth to try and say that you wanted to say yes, that it wasn’t him and just your job but he put up his hand to stop you and said,”No, I shouldn't have asked, I’m sorry.” before walking out.

After the door shut you just closed your mouth in surprise of how this could all go so wrong before falling on the ground and just sobbing. You were hyperventilating soon and snot was going everywhere but you just didn’t care. You were the therapist, the one who knew all the mental health tips and tricks but you were too broken to think logically and it felt good to just let yourself cry.

This stayed the same for two straight weeks. Bucky rescheduled every meeting and put himself into more missions, especially the more dangerous ones. You would cry yourself to sleep nearly every night and by the morning, your eyes were really puffy and swollen from the night before. Everyone in the tower knew something was going wrong and you could feel their stares of sympathy and worry. You felt terrible but what felt even worse was that you weren’t even speaking with Bucky anymore. And as bad as you felt, you couldn’t help but be even more worried for him. You were prepared to just wallow in your own self-pity and cry for the nth time when Steve knocked on the door and walked in when you were in your office, just drinking chamomile tea and looking at the flowers Bucky got you.

“Hey Doc, how’s it going?” He asked, sitting down and looking worried. You just looked up at him and decided to finally cut the shit and get right to what you were worried about. “Steve, how’s Bucky? And tell me the truth, I’ll find out eventually.” Steve sighed and said, “Honestly he’s not doing great. He looks like crap and is throws himself into missions. Bucky also keeps taking stupid risks that could leave him wounded or even worse. We’ve all spoken with him and he just ignores it. I think the only thing that would really fix him is talking with you. he’s never been like this before, I just don’t know what to do.”

You knew that he would probably tell you the last part, that he feels out of control. Control issues was what you most talked about with Steve during your sessions. Not that you could blame him, you would definitely have them too after everything he has gone through. But that could be discussed in your future sessions with him. Right now, you just wished everything was back to normal.

You nodded sadly, even more worried for him now. But Steve talking to you changed something. You needed to talk to Bucky. And right now. Your fear of rejection was high and you knew there was a fairly high chance that he was too hurt to trust you and that he would probably say no but you didn’t care. Even if he rejected you, you didn’t care. As long as he would be better and your relationship went back to normal, you could live with it. Even if it would take a long time to get better after this, he would be worth it.

So you just looked up, your mind set on what you had to do. “Where is he? I need to find him right now.”

Steve looked up surprised and said, “Uh, in his room I think. He just signed up for another hard mission and we asked him not to but he insisted. He’s probably getting ready since he will have to leave soon.”

After hearing this, you jumped up frantically while yelling “Thank you so much Steve!” as you ran out, not even caring to stop the door from slamming. 

Now, even though you worked in a tower full of superheroes, you were only the therapist and still haven’t ran in a while. So you ran and ignored all the stares of the workers and Avengers. When you finally got there, you were out of breath and breathing hard. But still, you worked through your mini heart attack and knock on the door, still frantic.

You heard some rustling behind the door and a few mumbled curse words when he began saying loudly, “Steve, I’m fine. I’m going on that mission whether you think I should or no-” Bucky opened the door and once he saw you, a probably sweaty, red, and gross you, finished with a confused “-not?”

You put up one finger to signal for him to give you a moment to catch your breath. After that, you joked, “Guess I need to workout more.”

“No, I think you look great. Uh, n-not that my opinion matters or anything. If you think you need to work out then that’s what you should do.” He said, nervously stuttering but nodding at his final sentence like by catching it he saved himself from saying something wrong.

He cleared his throat before continuing. “So, how can I help you? I do have to leave on a mission soon though.”

It broke your heart how formally he was speaking, almost like you were complete strangers.

Maybe you should go, you thought. But no, you had to. Bucky was worth the embarrassment you could possibly face, whether you two were going to date or not. Forcing yourself to remember that, you steeled yourself and said, “I’m sorry Bucky, about everything I said. That date sounded amazing, it really did. I wanted to go and I still do. I was just worried about how inappropriate it would be for a therapist to date their patient. I didn’t want your mental health to backtrack and I honestly thought that I was doing the right thing. But I miss you, Buck. I miss you terribly. And you're worth all of the risks to me, you outweigh them all. So please don’t go on that mission, let someone else take the dumb risks. From what I’ve heard you have taken enough for a while. Please, just stay with me and we can talk?” You looked up at him pleadingly and saw him pull out his phone before shutting the door in your face.

That shut door hurt you, but you were prepared for it and sighed. It was too good to be true, you guessed. The fairytale ending, the white picket fence, the handsome husband. You turned around, prepared to walk away with the  thought of going back to your apartment and drowning your sorrows in chamomile tea and tissues when you heard the door open behind you and felt a hand grab yours to turn you around.

And there was Bucky, smiling like an absolute idiot. And at first you thought that he was making fun of you, but even then you still thought he looked handsome with that smile. “Sam’s in. He’ll take the mission for me.” He said.

“What?” was all you could muster. You had no idea what he was talking about it sounded almost like... That’s when you heard Sam on speaker phone, “Yep, that’s right sweetheart. I’m gonna do the dumb mission. Kiss Bucky real good for me, sucks I can’t be there to do it myself.” Then you heard Sam make a bunch of kissy noises and that’s when Bucky said, “Enough of him.” And ended the call. Then he grabbed your hand once more and shut the door behind you. He backed you against his door with him so close to you that your chest was touching his. 

You were still in shock of your luck when Bucky leaned in and kissed you. You were a little shocked but soon kissed him back, and hard. It was like you were underwater and he was the oxygen. The kiss soon turned rougher and you did not mind at all.

A couple hours later you were both laying on the bed, snuggling and watching a dumb movie that both of you weren’t even paying attention to. You were both just too wrapped up in each other’s presence. “Hey, I think you got some of that exercise you mentioned needing. Maybe we could even do some more if you want.” Bucky said, looking down at you and laughing. 

You hit him lightly but couldn’t help from laughing hard as well. Only hours ago you thought that you wouldn’t get anything with Bucky. No happy ending, white picket fence, and with Bucky, the whole package. But no, you got much more than that. So much more.

[gffa]

There was this viral tweet that went around about THE UNTAMED awhile back that was basically the cycle of every fan of the series that I have ever met: 1. Wtf, THIS is the show everyone is losing their minds over? This isn’t even good! 2. Well, I guess it’s not that bad, it’s pretty watchable and fun, it’s all right. 3. I would now die for these characters. So, when I swore this drama wasn’t going to be a big fandom for me, I was just going to watch the show and then fuck off again, I should have known better. Because here I am, crying about feelings about the entire cast and devouring fic and yelling at anyone who will spend even five minutes listening to me about how much I love the OTP, how much I love the Yunmeng Siblings and their Terrible Communications Issues, and the Tragic Sibling Duos and the Tragic Doomed Loves and The Cutest Juniors In The World and how I want to lock ALL OF THEM IN A ROOM until they sort out their feelings! 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Jiang Cheng has to stop and take a moment before he continues on to the next line: You must come to Carp Tower as soon as you can and lavish praise on the ugliest dog I’ve ever seen. ✦ Life is Very Long by Vamillepudding, wei wuxian & jiang cheng & jin ling & lan wangji & lan sizhui & lan jingyi (& wangxian), 12.7k    Wei Wuxian is a good for nothing, possibly evil, possibly fake uncle. But he’s Jin Ling’s good for nothing, possibly evil, possibly fake uncle. So it stands to reason that when Jin Ling starts to suspect that Hanguang-jun is mistreating his husband, he immediately recruits Jiang Cheng for a rescue mission. ✦ a symbol to remind you that there’s more to see by paperminds, wei wuxian & jiang cheng & jin ling & lan wangji & lan sizhui & lan jingyi & ouyang zizhen, 9.7k    For as long as Jin Ling can remember, he has been immune to the majority of supernatural hauntings that plague the cultivation world. 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THE UNTAMED/MO DAO ZU SHI RECS - WHEN I WASN’T LOOKING, I DEVELOPED NIE BROTHERS FEELINGS FIC: ✦ Pushover by nirejseki, nie huaisang & nie mingjue & lan xichen & jin guangyao & cast, 1.9k    Every once in a while, not often, people who know them well will say that Nie Mingjue lets Nie Huaisang walk all over him. That isn’t quite right. THE UNTAMED/MO DAO ZU SHI RECS - YOUR HONOR, HAVE YOU SEENA-YAO’S PRECIOUS FACE? - LAN XICHEN/JIN GUANGYAO FIC: ✦ half cloak & half dagger by Fahye, lan xichen/jin guangyao (& background wangxian), NSFW, 13.1k    Jin Guangyao lifts his head and smiles. "I’m considering a problem.” “Can I be of any assistance with it?” He drops a kiss on Lan Xichen’s chest. With the nail of one finger he lightly traces the characters for irony on Lan Xichen’s side. “Not this one, er-ge.” ✦ Hindsight by clockwork_spider, lan xichen/jin guangyao, ~1k    Three years after the incident at the GuanYin temple, Jin GuangYao and Nie MingJue’s coffin was unsealed and their corpses, depleted of resentful energy, were finally laid to rest, their spirits released. In his dream, Lan XiChen is visited by the spectre of his sworn brother. ✦ beyond reasons by welcome_equivocator, lan xichen/jin guangyao & lan wangji, 5.2k    “a-yao,” he says, and you are almost surprised to hear it, but he is still facing away from you, “i know about the music.” ✦ Spring Dawn 《 花落知多少 》 by iskendaris, lan xichen/jin guangyao & nie mingjue, modern au/reincarnation au, 4.5k    Meng Yao is given a second chance when he’s reincarnated. He doesn’t want a repeat of the past. However destiny has a way of interfering, and he finds himself working together with student president Lan Xichen?! Really, what is this fate?! ✦ Hold the Baby by Moonsheen, lan xichen/jin guangyao & jin zixuan/jiang yanli & lan wangji/wei wuxian & jiang cheng, 6.4k    A collection of shorts: In which a chance encounter and a fussing baby causes a slight change to Jin Guangyao’s MO. ✦ Ornament by syriala, lan xichen/jin guangyao & nie mingue & lan qiren, 1.6k    He starts to go into the bow again, and Lan Xichen intercepts his movement, stops him from bowing in a move that he might have learned from Nie Mingjue, and then his brain must short-circuit, because the only thought Lan Xichen has is that Meng Yao has the perfect height for forehead kisses. THE UNTAMED/MO DAO ZU SHI RECS - EVERY OTHER KIND OF FIC: ✦ fierce corpse Jin Zixuan by EHyde, jin zixuan/jiang yanli & jin ling & cast, 10.6k    Jin Zixuan died at Qiongqi Path. Then, Wei Wuxian brought him back. But what place does Koi Tower have for a fierce corpse? ✦ The Past Didn’t Go Anywhere by FairestCat, jiang cheng & wen qing & lan sizhui, 2.3k    There are rumours going around of a woman – a healer – travelling the countryside alone. Jiang Cheng needs to know if the rumours are true. ✦ If you only knew then (the things I only know now) by Nillegible, jiang fengmian/yu ziyuan & wei wuxian & jiang cheng & nie huaisang & lan wangji & & lan xichen & jin zixuan & cast, time travel (of a sort), 34.7k wip    Yu Ziyuan receives a warning, a letter in Jiang Cheng’s handwriting, familiar, though it seems to have evened out over long years of practice. This was from her child, but not. This Jiang Cheng, grown up in ways that it hurt to contemplate, had endured the death of his family, his Sect, and his soul. ✦ partly frozen, partly flowing by astrolesbian, lan wangji & lan xichen & lan qiren (& background wangxian), 4.9k    To discourage Lan Wangji from this idea would be to discourage him from loving, and Lan Xichen has always known that to be impossible. All he could do was nod as his brother looked at him, and finished, calmly, “Zewu-jun, I accept any punishment you see fit.” ✦ Delight in Misery by nirejseki, lan wangji & jiang cheng & lan sizhui & jin ling & lan xichen (&background wangxian), 17.4k wip    For the first time in his life, Lan Wangji didn’t want to go home. (what if he had another option?) ✦ into the light of a dark black night by dragongirlG, lan wangji & lan xichen & madam lan, 3k    On a snowy night in the dead of winter, Wu Yuhua, formerly known as Madam Lan, unexpectedly spends one last night with her sons before escaping from the Cloud Recesses. FULL DETAILS + RECS HERE

[dreamscapestars]

The Ultimate Reylo Fanfic List

* = highly recommend (aka if you’re going to read anything off this list read this)

Canonverse AUs

***All Our Days - E - 221k - "I can listen no longer in silence."The hologram projection of his strangely handsome face is cobalt blue, flickering, and full of static. "I must speak to you, Rey. You… you pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me that I am not too late.” He groans, runs his hands through his dark, silver-streaked hair, then refocuses his gaze on the holorecorder. “I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own than when you almost broke it, eight and a half years ago. Do not say that man forgets sooner than woman, that his love has an earlier death."Here the recording of Ben takes a deep breath, and looks down at something outside the holorecorder’s field of view. Perhaps at his hands, Rey manages to think, through the veil of shock and timid, fluttering hope. She wishes she were there with him, so she could take them in her own, and offer him the confidence to carry on.But this is only a hologram, so she must wait. Eventually, when he looks up again, his features have settled. He looks… Fierce. Determined. Self-assured."I have loved none but you," he says. - canonverse jane austen au 

trillions of molecules - T - 11k - Fake papers forged, contract signed and a navy blue jumpsuit with his name printed on the chest supplied to him, the man who called himself Solo was hired by the Felucian Transit Corporation as shuttle operator number B414. - tros fix it au 

There Shall I Be - N/A - 50k -She remembers the first and only time she saw him smile like this before and how it didn’t touch his eyes at the time and how it broke her heart.Now it fills her heart and gives her life.She shoves him back onto their blanket and climbs on top of him. She pulls off her sweater and takes him inside her again and rides him into the night. - canonverse far from the madding crowd au

*landscape with a blur of conquerors - E - 362k - "While I share your contempt for this situation in which we find ourselves, do not mistake it as apathy," he hissed through gritted teeth, dark eyes burning. "I hardly expect your disposition to sweeten, but I will be damned if I allow my future Empress to behave in a manner that reflects poorly on me and on the First Order!""If you allow?" She wrenched her arm out of his viselike grasp, batting his hand away for good measure. "I don't belong to you. I don't belong to anyone.""That might have been the case back when you were a scavenger on that pitiful scrap heap of a planet, but now?" His sardonic gaze flickered over her silk robes and the jewels woven through her elaborate braids. "Now you are the Chume'da, and the Chume'da belongs to her people. Their fate is entirely in your hands. Should you cross the line, it is they who will suffer for it. Am I making myself clear?""I hate you," she said bitterly. He sneered at her. "See? Already you are acclimatizing so well to married life." - arranged marriage au

Modern AUs

*the man, the stallion, and the wind - E - 17k - Weary and alone, Rey barrels west on the Trans-Canada Hwy in her old pickup truck. Weary and in need of a lift, Ben Solo stands by the side of the road with his thumb out, in the hopes of hitching a ride.One hell of a winter storm’s about to roll in, leaving them stranded. What ever shall they do? - hitchhiker au 

The Mechanic - E - 122k - It's a magical midsummer night, just made for following a persuasive, dangerous-looking lawyer to a hotel across the road from the party. But then reality catches up to Rey. - mafia baby au

*Soul Searching - E - 205k - Sixteen-year-old Rey finds out she’s soulmates with her English teacher -- in front of her entire class. Now the school gossips won’t leave her alone, prying for tidbits that Rey wouldn’t give them even if she had any. And she doesn’t. Because Mr. Solo is too horrified at being soulmates with an underage girl to even talk to her. - soulmate au

Mitan, Midi - E - 83k - After a French notary contacts Rey to inform her she's inherited a house in the Drôme (France), she decides from one day to the next to quit her job and move there. The house is pretty secluded, there's no service, no internet, no way to reach other people aside from the landline in the living-room.Ideal conditions, by her standards, as those theoretically should allow her to be perfectly alone. Theoretically. - french country side au

*A Treehouse Covered in Salt - E - 34k -High school senior Rey Johnson has lived next door to Ben Solo her whole life. The two could not be more different and at school, Rey wouldn't be caught dead in his presence. That doesn't stop her from sneaking out to their treehouse every night. Despite her unwillingness to be friends with Ben in the light of day, he has always been there with her in the darkness. - high school au

Initial - M - 45k - A Soulmate AU in which you are born with the initials of your soulmate marked on the nape of your neck. Easy enough, right? Except for two people who don't use their real names. - soulmate au 

Killing Me Softly - M - 32k - Rey clings to the hope that her husband will regain his memories after he survived a car crash that left him with amnesia. During her monthly visits at a medical facility with Ben, who now calls himself Kylo, she struggles to cope as he tries to make her let go of the past, and in turn, him with it. - amnesia au 

only child of the universe - E - 98k - The first time Rey meets Ben, they're carefree strangers getting high at the fair, alight and in love for a night. The second time is different. The second time is in therapy— where the asshole won't even acknowledge her. - high school au 

a place to go - E - 52k - All Rey Johnson wanted was solitude. A place to go where she could escape from the daily stressors and mayhem of her job. A place where she could enjoy some peace and some quiet. Her mentor Luke Skywalker's small cabin up north seemed like the ideal place to do just that. A week of seclusion was just what she needed.And then Ben Solo arrived. - snowed in au 

into the great laughter of mankind - E - 30k - There is something about watching Rey put her mind to task. Ben can't put a name to this something, exactly— all he knows is that it fascinates him like nothing else has in a long, long time."Dr. Solo?" She glances over at him. "What do you think?"I think I'm doomed, he wants to say but doesn't. I think the curse of the pharaohs has nothing on you. I think you are my Egypt. - archaeologist au

(now it’s) Time to Learn - M - 86k - “You’re a teacher?” Ben doesn’t look like a teacher. At least not like any teacher Rey has ever had. - teacher au

For Now - E - 8k - There are plenty of things he could say, but he doesn’t. Buying you muffins makes me excited to get out of bed in the morning. I wish I could go back in time and be the kind of person you could like. I don’t remember my life before you. ---------- When Kylo finds his soulmate, she doesn’t know, and he doesn’t tell her. - soulmate au 

Cupcake Wars - E - 36k - Entirely by accident, Rey ends up fucking someone who works for Snoke's Cupcakery. She's just blowing off steam. It doesn't mean anything at all. It certainly won't come back to bite her in the ass. - bakery au

The Food of Love - E - 60k - Rey picked up her first violin at eleven, finding a mentor in conductor and former-violinist Luke Skywalker. With the First Chair up for grabs, Rey is thrust into the spotlight as the youngest violinist to take First Chair in the NY Pops. But Kylo Ren - former violinist, former NY Pops cellist, formerly Ben Solo child prodigy - may take issue with Rey Nobody sitting in his grandfather's chair. - orchestra au 

Orion - E - 14k - Rey Niima finds herself in the Saharan desert trying to heal wounds from her life, and Ben Solo is there too, fixing himself along the way. - roadtrip au

Embers - E - 34k - All the myriad things he’d been—someone who made her laugh; the warmth on the other side of the bed; her best friend—those things, Rey had buried. Rey left Ben two years, three months, and sixteen days ago. But who's counting? - getting back together au 

Gilded - M - 11k - Everyone had two marks, one for class and another to identify a soulmate. She only had one: green rings on her finger, proof she was part of the laboring class. It made matters lonely, but never unbearable.Until she met him. He had two sets of marks—had a soulmate—and she did not. - soulmate au

flutz - E - 27k - Rey was determined to have no distractions during her first season in Senior Ladies figure skating.She swore that Olympic medalist and figure skating legend Ben Solo was not going to change that, no matter how intent he seemed on proving her wrong. - ice skater au 

oh autumn, oh teakettle, oh grace - E - 30k - "So let me get this straight," he says. "You're a dryad.""Quite so," she cheerfully replies."Like an actual—" His hand rises to make a feeble gesture at the towering elms that surround them— "tree-dwelling, speaks-with-animals, has-magical-powers, frolics-through-the-woods-in-orgiastic-pagan-frenzy dryad?"She wrinkles her delicately freckled nose. "Well, I don't know about orgiastic frenzy, that's really more of a maenad type of deal."He looks her up and down, taking in her pretty face and her slender figure in the skimpy white dress."Too bad," he mumbles. - dryad roadtrip au

A Proposal by Any Other Name - E - 188k - Rey and Finn have been A Thing for a long time now. Since she was eighteen, to be exact. When Finn leaves on a trip to Europe for six months for work, Rey finally chases after him to Dublin to do what he seems to be putting off: propose.She wants a family, after all.The universe has different ideas. Her flights are delayed, storms hit, she loses her tickets and everything seems to be going horribly. To top it off, she ends up stranded around a rather irritating man by the name of Kylo Ren. It goes about as well as you'd expect. - leap year au

endless summer afternoon - E - 63k - “My son's room is always made up,” Han had said, hitting a light switch as Rey clung to a dirty backpack in the dark hallway, “he never comes home. Warm bed might as well get some use.”Rey spared Han some of the dignity of his own longing assessment of the space that clearly hadn’t been looked at in a long time. An empty room in a quiet house. As gruff as he was, handing it off to some runaway nobody just because she was helping him rebuild a car was one of the kindest gestures she’d ever experienced, and had a hidden weight that she knew needed a respectful amount of privacy. Mysteries were often about unresolved sadness, and were usually only solved by the people who didn’t feel it.Rey is offered a place to stay: a spare bedroom once belonging to the mysterious Ben Solo. What does she do when she wakes up with him wanting his bed back? - roommates au 

Dandelion - E - 45k - Rey's an ex con and orphan, just released from jail after killing Plutt. She follows advice from her former guardian, Maz, and finds a job at Luke's coffee shop. Ben's a lawyer who lost his job and moved back to his hometown. He falls for Rey, unaware of her dark past. - coffee shop au

A Few Small Repairs - E - 69k - Ben Solo is a ruthless property developer, and Rey Johnson is the lone holdout on the block. She does not intend to give up what's hers, not for anything. (Not even for a pair of pretty eyes.) - property developer au

Unbroken - E - 7k - He found her sleeping in the stables, curled up in the stall of his newest, unbroken colt...

Lockjaw - M - 106k - Kylo finds Rey unconscious and near death on the side of a road, surrounded by twitching, wretched things looking to her for their next meal. Ever the altruist, he picks them off and takes her with him, saving her life in the process. It's no wonder that when she wakes she feels she owes him, and agrees to become his travel companion as he crosses the United States in search of safety and a new home. - zombie apoclypse au 

Everything to Prove - M - 13k - “The show,” he says. “It’s probably best if they don’t—if we don’t—”And Rey follows his line of thought at once. For all the program is one that doesn’t seem melodramatic—the height of drama in previous seasons came from someone’s cake falling over and that was about it—she does not doubt that the producers and cameramen would leap at the opportunity to make there be something out of nothing in their relationship—especially if there was something out of something.“Yeah,” she agrees. “Yeah, probably. We can pick baking stations that are…” but she doesn’t want to complete the thought. She likes baking next to Ben.“Or we can just be careful?” he suggests, sounding quite as pained by the prospect as Rey feels.“Yeah, careful. I can do careful,” Rey says at once and her lips are on his again and he’s laughing now, and she’s laughing, and she didn’t think laughter would be part of all this. She didn’t think it could be. But here she is, laughing and kissing and holding a man who, at some point, she’s going to want to beat.She does her best not to think of that now.It’s a friendly competition, after all. It’s not life and death. It’s baking. - great british bake off au 

*In Bloom - E - 13k - The flowers that bedeck her skin don’t lie—ballet dancer Rey is in love with her partner, Ben. But the years go by and his skin stays resolutely, devastatingly blank.He doesn’t love her. But when his hands are on her body, she can pretend. - ballet soulmates au

By Blood and Flame - E - 10k - Rey can’t go to her professors with this spell. She needs help, though, needs someone to do the spell with her, and she needs the best because it’s tricky. Dangerous.There’s a boy on campus. Powerful. Mysterious. He’s admired and envied, feared and loathed, depending on who’s talking, but for all everyone knows his story, no one seems to really know him. And Rey… Rey has been curious about him for… well, for longer than she wants to admit.She’s not sure if it’s good or bad luck that he’s the perfect person to help cast her spell. - magic college au

count the rings - E - 63k - “Because you’re sitting there all comfy, not looking at all bridal-” “I’ll just fetch the veil out of my backpack, shall I?” “-when you could be, you know, making a move on that fine-ass tree.” In which camping comes with unexpected consequences. - accidental marriage au

(won’t you let me) walk you home from school - E - 129k - Ben, a counselor in the upper school at the legendary Alliance Academy, keeps finding himself interacting with the lower school art teacher, Rey. He definitely doesn’t like it. - teacher au

follow in your form - E - 23k - Ben Solo wakes up paralyzed and angry about it.A story about dealing with change, holding onto hope, and finding love. - quadriplegic ben au 

*screwdriver - M -101k - Rey is a bright-eyed intern on her first campaign trail, Ben is an irritated data analyst, and how difficult can it be to get a legacy senator elected president? Apparently fucking impossible. - political au

9 pints - E - 83k - She knew next to nothing, and Google was largely unhelpful. All of her searches (“vampire sex rules” and “vampire dos and don’ts” and one very self-indulgent “average vampire cock size big?”) linked her to dated top ten lists written by anyone other than an actual vampire.Twenty minutes of frustrated scrolling eventually led her to a supernatural dating forum. The website was horribly aged, but still active. Questions were tagged, which meant that it was easy to narrow down her search. Vampire, she clicked, and Sex.--In which Rey gets suckered into shooting porn with one of Poe's pickiest vampire actors. - magical porn stars au

fine young cannibals - E - 27k - Kylo raised his head to the sky as he inhaled, his broad chest expanding even wider. His eyes fluttered shut, savoring the scent like a sumptuous meal. He grinned.“Oh,” he murmured, so softly Rey wasn’t even sure it was meant for her ears. His eyes slid to meet hers, scarlet and violent and hungry. “You brought a snack.”And then all hell broke loose.About three things, Rey is absolutely positive:First, she is totally, completely, and madly in love with her vampire boyfriend, Poe.Second, there is another vampire—an older, evil, definitely-not-hot vampire—that thirsts for her blood and wants nothing more than to kill her.And third, she is maybe not absolutely positive about either of these things. - twilight au

Epithumia - E - 46k- ἐπιθυμία, ας, ἡ: epithumia : desire, passionate longing, lust *** “No extra credit.” He made a noise that might have been a laugh. “You ask that every time.” “Well, I have to try.” Rey said, weakly. “Can you make an exception?” A lone eyebrow ascended his lofty forehead into his hairline. “Try harder, Miss Kenobi.” - college teacher/student au

Historical AUs (ranging from medieval to the early 2000s)

light carries on endlessly - M - 6k - “Traitor,” he told Cerberus gruffly not too much later, using both hands to scratch behind the hound’s many ears. What appeared to be a rat tail lay nearby on a blood-stained bit of stone. “What did I tell you about women with pretty eyes?”One wet tongue lapped at his wrist, and he sighed. “Right. Nothing.” - Hades and Persephone au 

The Witch in the Wood - E - 138k - As a knight errant of the kingdom of Alderaan, Kylo Ren has traveled the country, completing quest after perilous quest in search of redemption for the dark deeds of his past. When an evil witch captures the princess of a neighboring kingdom, Kylo reluctantly accepts the burden of rescue with the assumption that it will be a simple task.It is not. For the creature that lives in the woods is not a monster at all.Since her mentor died, Rey has lived in the witch’s tree and uses magic to maintain the balance of the forest. Her life is practical, repetitive, and simple—at least, until a wrathful knight thunders through her door and levels a sword at her throat. Yet something within the knight calls to her, a buzz beneath his skin that she recognizes.Without a doubt, he is not who he appears to be. - medieval witch au

Black Knight, White Queen - E - 53k - Luke Skywalker wrote his sister a letter on his deathbed, revealing that his ward is the orphaned heir of a family long thought extinct - and politically powerful. That letter fell into the wrong hands, and the secret of Rey's heritage is secret no more. The Emperor has managed to unite the Kingdoms, but he is old, and his son is weak. Seeking to ensure his son's claim to his throne, he sends his most trusted captain to bring the girl - willing or not - to be his son's bride. Rey is taken from her far-flung home, and plunged into a world of court intrigue, arranged marriage, political rivals, and would-be assassins - the black knight her constant companion and bodyguard. But even he, her dark shadow and protector, she cannot know whether to trust... - medieval bodyguard au 

Days to Remember - E - 42k - A man heads home after years of estrangement. What do you need from me? A woman leaves her world behind, a bird in a gilded cage. When we get to New York, I need help running away. -- I'll bring you to Boston with me. - titanic au 

*what if the storm ends - E - 61k - As a child, Rey is evacuated from London to the Yorkshire Dales during the Blitz. She spends the war in the care of the Solos on their farm, wandering the moors with their son looking for a legendary family artifact long lost. When the war is over, she returns to a city she no longer recognizes, and she writes a popular series of children's fantasy books based on her childhood in the Dales. After amassing fame and fortune with her stories, tragedy brings her back to the farm to see Ben Solo, once her greatest inspiration and now a widower. - post WWII au 

Take Me - E - 39k - Every night, at 8:30 pm, Rey and Ben get on stage and pretend to be in love with each other. At 9:15, they walk off stage and the actual fireworks begin. - 60s country singers au

I could have been wild, I could have been free (but nature played a trick on me) - M - 61k - “Did you know that I did not even learn your name until yesterday, when I married you?”His face flushed a darker red than it had at breakfast, and he attempted to defend himself with incompetent stammering, “I—I regret that. The situation, of course, would have been,” he wrung his hands together and stared at her feet, “It would have been preferable if we had known one another more. On several occasions, I did attempt to make myself known to you, but you seemed to have other preoccupations.”Rey could feel her face contorting into a sneer to spit out her barbed words, “Perhaps that was your cue not to marry me!” - regency arranged marriage au 

Patch - M - 20k - He is nineteen when he first sees her.She comes to the rink alone, laces her skates alone, strokes warm-up circles alone...He looks at her, really looks her in the eye, and he decides he likes what he sees.She may be young, but she is hungry and angry, and for now? That’s enough for him.It’s not like he has a lot of options. - 80 russian ice skaters au 

*The Great Big No - E - 165k - Kylo Ren is third generation rock royalty, a reigning brat prince starting to feel the burn of the fame he reached for with both hands. Rey is an aspiring singer on the verge of a big break, provided her A&R guy still has a job by the time she reaches LA. Their paths have crossed briefly, disappointingly, before. What happens when they collide? - 90s rock au

***go I know not whither and fetch I know not what - E - 119k - The year is 1994. The Iron Curtain has come down, the oligarchs have begun their rise to power, and Kyril Ren, a powerful member of the infamous crime syndicate Solntsevskaya Bratva, has been given a job: hunt down an estranged uncle who has been snitching to the FBI.Irena, nicknamed Rey by her adoptive father Luke, is a Krav Maga instructor in New York who has finally been able to obtain her original birth certificate from Russia. Turns out she was born in a little village named Vershinino, but if she wants to know more than that… she’s going to have to go there herself. - 90s russian mafia au 

we could plant a house, we could build a tree - E -124k - Ben takes a deep breath. “It’s—it’s a project. Conceptual art. You wouldn’t get it.”Rey presses her lips together to keep from laughing. She plans her next words quickly and carefully, determining what will get her the best reaction. “Really? Looks like you ruined a bedsheet to me.”His reaction does not disappoint. “Get out.” ** Seven-year-old Rey decides it's her duty to annoy the crap out of Ben Solo every single day she's alive. - 90s growing up together artist au

[trafalgar-law-wife]

Squiddy and the Obey Me Brothers Relationships!

This is an Obey Me x Squiddy head-cannons. Squiddy is my Obey Me persona and this is her relationships with the brothers. 

Lucifer

When Squiddy and Lucifer first met she was beyond terrified. I mean come on, bro is in his demon form pressing her out and threatening her life. If he asked her to jump, she'd ask how high.

When Lucifer first seemed to be warming up to her, she swore to Mammon that Lucifer was plotting her demise, and how him being nice to her was a ploy to make her drop her guard so she could slip up and he'd can punish her.

Honestly, it took a while for Squiddy to get close to Lucifer and let her guard down and truly trust him. Occasionally whenever the two hangout together for a drink, Squiddy will flirt with the oldest because she loves to see him flustered.

Mammon

Now with Mammon, Squiddy could relate to how his brothers were treating him, so she always made sure to be nice to him. After she helped him obtained his one true love, Goldie, Mammon asked why a weak human like Squiddy was being so nice to him, to which she responded, "Everyone deserves to be treated nicely, besides I bet you're a cool guy." And with that, Squiddy gained her first pact and oh so very clingy friend. she does not mind at all <3

Now just like Mammon, Squiddy has a bit of a money spending problem. She will happily go gambling with Mammon if that means she can spend more time AND buy her in game purchases, it's a win-win situation....until the both of them are running away from the casino after losing an all or nothing bet.

It goes without saying that these two got close real quick, often having sleepover's in her room, plotting how to make money by gaining pictures of Lucifer, going out together. Unlike Mammon though, Squiddy will not steal from the other brothers and is often stopping Mammon from doing so. But whenever it is just the two of them hanging out they just vibe, Squiddy casually flirts with Mammon, and the both of them telling each other things they'd never tell anyone else.

Leviathan

The moment Squiddy mentioned she liked anime and gaming, Leviathan thought he was living in one of his favorite anime's "This normie isn't totally a normie! She likes anime and gaming too! is she my soulmate?!?!?!" After explaining to him how this is not an anime, the two of them seem to hit it off. They both had even forgot about how he almost killed her a few days ago in a trivia quiz!

These two will spend hours in Leviathan's cosplaying, gaming, cosplaying WHILE gaming, binge anime, and binge anime while cosplaying. Half of the time while cosplaying they forget to lock the door, all of the brothers at some point has either seen the two of them half naked, in some questionable costumes, odd poses, the whole shebang.

Now Leviathan is in no way calm with Squiddy whenever she decides to just get dressed in cosplay in his room, he's a babbling mess. Looking away, sneaking small glances at her, gets flustered and goes on a rant about how much easier this would be if she just got dressed in her room, yet insists for her to get dressed in his room when doing the more...revealing cosplay's because he didn't want his brothers seeing Squiddy like that.

When it's just the two of them, Leviathan is a panicked mess whenever she sit near him, lay with him in his bed, or even share the same blanket. The both of them are competitive during games....doesn't mean Squiddy is good at competitive games, but a simple flirtatious comment is enough to keep Squiddy's win streak high against Leviathan.

Satan

Like Lucifer, Satan scared Squiddy, especially after finding out about his torture books. After being reassured for months that he'd never her, Squiddy began to slightly relax, until he got upset about her denying to make a pact with her. Now she was definitely avoiding him, always hiding behind Beelzebub or Leviathan whenever Satan entered the room. This amused Satan for awhile until he felt the urge to get closer to her.

Satan approaches Squiddy with a simple question "Do you like to read?" And Squiddy responded with "If manga and fan-fiction counts then definitely!" Satan has never heard of fan-fiction and demanded Squiddy explain to him what is was. She immediately pulls out her D.D.D and goes to an human world app called 'Wattpad' and proceeded to show Satan the safer options of what she reads. She explains to him what it is and he is utterly disappointed in what she had said. He laughs at her and proceeds to grab her wrist and take her to him room. All day Squiddy was held captive in Satan's room being forced to listen to him read fantasy and other fiction books. Simply because he though she might like them. he was not wrong

These two can be caught in the library reading whatever Satan picks out, because he plans to show Squiddy the wonders of "true literature"

Asmodeus

Squiddy feared of Asmodeus, not because he appeared intimidating, but because she didn't want him to figure out what type of things she's into. She's aware that his seduction doesn't work on her yet she still refuses to look him in the eye. Squiddy enjoys hanging out with him but hated how she became a flustered and stuttering mess around Asmodeus. The way he would caress her body, whisper compliments in her ears, it drove her crazy.

Squiddy didn't mind doing skin care routines with Asmodeus, she always told herself in the human world that she'd get into one and never stuck with it, so its nice to have a demon to constantly remind her about it. During these skin care routines Asmodeus is constantly flirting with Squiddy and it throws her in for a loop. Squiddy was never the one being hit on, she was the one hitting on her friends; her SHY friends. Asmodeus loves to see Squiddy hot and bothered but obviously wont do anything without her consent.

It took Asmodeus about a month to figure out what Squiddy was into, and when he confronted her about them she absolutely panicked. He noticed the way she'd intensely stare at the brothers hands, or the way she'd crossed her legs in her seat whenever she got called certain names, or the way whenever she sat on his lap and he'd do what he normally does flirting, touching, or teasing, how he'd feel her core throb on his leg, and so much more. It was all too cute for Asmodeus not to bring it up. Squiddy tries to fight for her dignity, but alas, nothing gets past the Avatar of Lust.

Beelzebub

Beelzebub's height intimidated her, I mean bro literally towered her, but she did loved it at the same time. Beel was always kind to Squiddy because she never touched his food. When Squiddy mentioned how she wanted to help get his brother back, and fix him and his brothers relationship he was elated. He'd join Squiddy and Mammon in her room to have movie nights and even teach Squiddy how to make him and his brothers favorite meals.

Beel will willingly share his food with Squiddy if she asks, he doesn't mind at all. When he found out about Squiddy's sweet tooth he used her favorite desserts to bribe her into working out with him, he knows Squiddy is not in shape athletically, and he wants her to be healthy. So for every 3 weeks she works out without any complaints, he'll take her out to Devildom's best bakery for a dessert binge.

Squiddy has insomnia, and she will often go to Beel's room and snuggle into him because he's a great cuddler in Squiddy's opinion. Unlike Levi's tub she doesn't wake up with neck cramps, unlike Mammon, Beel isn't sprawled across her uncomfortably. Unlike Asmo, Beel isn't constantly trying to get a rise outta her, Unlike Satan...Beel's bed is actually useable, Belphie is a instant no from Squiddy, she doesn't want to bother Lucifer with her insomnia knowing he has a bunch of work to do. So that leaves Beel, a gentle giant who keeps his warm embrace until the morning. or until he gets hungry in the night.

Belphegor

Squiddy actually liked Belphie when she was helping the demon brother to escape his imprisonment. She was overjoyed when she saw the barrier keeping him locked in his prison be broken. That was before he killed her. That was before Squiddy traveled back in time and watched her past self bloody body being held in Mammon's arms as he sobbed. This made her heart shatter. When she made eye contact with Belphie and he went to kill her again, she decided that she would never forgive Belphie.

Literally the next day when Belphie was being all lovey dovey towards Squiddy she was disgusted. She couldn't believe homeboy, didn't even give her time to recover from what she saw. Squiddy is still respectable towards Belphie, especially around the other brothers but she is extremely passively-aggressive towards him. She refuses to do group work with him, and refuses to have a conversation longer than 5 minutes with him.

He knows that he cannot change the past so he returns the passive-aggressive attitude but will do anything she say in hopes that she’ll forgive him one day.