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somestardeww · 3 months

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Roommate!Denki x male reader - Part 2 :P

wait a sec: smut under the cut, unprotected sex (please wrap it up b4 going up and down on it), pet names, orgasm denial and ✨sub!denki✨. Let me know if i missed something! <3

You shudder as Denki's hands roam your body, feeling his fingers trace your torso as he watches you from below. The anticipation builds when he lifts your shirt, removing it from your body without missing the opportunity to do it slowly, feeling your body.

A low, appreciative moan escapes your lips as Denki goes from caressing to kissing, spreading them all over your torso, causing shivers of pleasure to run through you. His hands find their way into his hair, gently tangling in the soft blonde strands as you guide him dominantly to stand above you, guiding the kisses, which didn't stop during the movements, downwards.

With each kiss the desire intensifies, the heat between you two becomes unbearable. Your breathing becomes ragged as Denki's lips explore your skin, leaving a trail of burning sensations. Arching slightly, you give in to the pleasure, your body yearning for more as you grip the strands tighter.

“God, Kami…” you breathe out, your voice filled with need. "Go on, my dear, hmm."

You feel Denki stop the kisses just as they were close to where you wanted them, only for him to sit on your hips, his body aligning with yours, causing a wave of pleasure as your covered erections press against each other. A low, primal moan escapes your lips as desire courses through your veins.

“Fuck, Sparky” you growl, your voice heavy with lust. "You're driving me crazy here."

Yours hands run down his back until they reach his ass, pulling him closer as you revel in the feeling of your bodies coming together. The friction between you intensifies, sending waves of pleasure through both of you, if the shudders and needy moans that the blonde above you let out meant anything.

At this moment, the words become moans as your bodies fill with the pleasure you feel. The air is filled with the sounds of heavy breathing and the heady smell of excitement, and you start to feel impatient as the stimulation over clothes becomes little, the desire for more growing in both bodies. When you reach down to take off Denki’s pants, a mischievous glint dances in your eyes. You hold his hips firmly, pulling the fabric teasingly until it slides down his legs, revealing his bare skin inch by inch as you watch, almost salivating.

"No underwear this whole time, Sparky? so provocative, desperate for my attention, hm?"

You only get a brief glimpse of his face getting redder and redder before he buries his face in your shoulder, moving his hips forward needily, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his skin red with anticipation and embarrassment.

With the extra thrust of the blonde's hips against yours, you hastily pull off Kaminari's shirt, removing it from his body with a sense of urgency as you feel his swaying movements and muffled moans against your neck. The pure carnal desire to touch that handsome boy on top of you is what guides you, touching the skin beneath the fabric with affection and revealing his naked torso; you then move him away a little so your eyes take in the sight before you. His lean body with defined muscles and smooth skin are a sight to behold, tempting you to explore more.

Without wasting another moment, your hands greedily run over your exposed skin, tracing the contours of your chest and abdomen, groping, kissing and sucking. The heat between you intensifies as your fingers and lips dance across his flesh, leaving a trail of desire in your way.

Denki's breath hitches between his moans as your touch sends shivers all over his body. The hunger in his eyes matches your own as you bring your lips together once more, your bodies pressed tightly against each other as your hands go lower and lower, until you reach his cock.

The kiss is dirty and breathless, interrupted by Denki's moans that leave you crazy and absolutely needing more and more; you are put to the test when Denki's breath hitches at your touch, his body eagerly responding to your ministrations. His eyes close and a series of low, desperate moans escape his lips, each one a testament to the pleasure coursing through him. You revel in the power of knowing you can take him to such heights, reveling in the intimacy and the way the blonde is obviously in such pleasure.

"Denki, my roommate… I'm going to make you feel so good, you're going to get hard just remembering it." You speak close to his right ear when he rests his head on your shoulder again, biting to discount the pleasure he feels. You confidently speak your intentions, your voice full of desire, before quickly switch your positions. You throw him assertively on the bed, positioning yourself on top of him and pressing your bodies together.

You lean in, your lips hovering just above his, and fix your eyes on him, a mixture of desire and mischief dancing in your gaze, only to pull away, lowering yourself down his body, positioning yourself face to face with his erect member. With a mischievous smile, you press a teasing kiss to the to

p of his cock, feeling the heat and pulse beneath your lips.

Denki's breath hitches when he feels your lips against him, his body eagerly responding to your touch. The feeling of the kiss sends a wave of pleasure through him, and a low moan escapes his lips.

Encouraged by his response, you continue to explore his arousal with your mouth, using your tongue to trace the sensitive skin, teasing and tasting him with every movement and lick, especially the area beneath the head of his cock. Denki's body arches in pleasure at this, his fingers tangle in your hair, pulling pleasurably as he gasps and moans louder in ecstasy. The room is filled with his symphony of pleasure, a sweet melody that drives you insane.

You revel in the control you have over Denki's pleasure, determined to take him to the limit and beyond, to make him drunk with pleasure. With every movement of your lips and every flick of your tongue, you push him closer to the edge, eager to witness his complete surrender to the pleasure you're providing- until you pause, a devilish glint in your eyes, while Denkioscila's pleasure at the limit. You remove your lips, leaving him on the verge of orgasm, and lick them slowly, savoring the taste of his essence knowing that if you continued for a couple more seconds he would have his acclaimed release.

Denki's body shudders in anticipation, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He looks at you, his eyes watery and filled with a mixture of desire and frustration, silently begging for release.

“Not so fast, Denki,” you whisper, your warm breath ghosting over his skin. "I want to prolong this pleasure for you a little longer, dear." You run your fingertips along his inner thighs, teasingly avoiding the place where he most desires your touch.

Kaminari's hips lift instinctively, seeking the contact you deny him. "And if it's too much and you want to stop, just say something like blueberries, right?" He nods positively in response.

You pull away from Denki, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you quickly remove your clothes and reach for your own member, teasingly stimulating yourself. His actions leave you watching, his desire evident in his gaze and the way your body above his reacts.

Kaminari's eyes widen as he watches you pleasure yourself, your breathing becoming shallower and shallower. His gaze is fixated on your movements, his own arousal evident in the way he shifts on the bed trapped beneath your thighs, unable to look away.

You continue to stroke yourself, pleasure building within you as you revel in the intimate display. The air is thick with expectation, the room filled with the sounds of your moans and Denki's heavy breathing.

Kaminari's desire intensifies, his hands instinctively reaching towards you. The sight of him, almost desperate for your touch, only fuels your own arousal. You move closer, closing the distance between you, allowing Denki to witness the full extent of his pleasure.

But just as Kaminari is about to join you, reaching for his own member while the other tries to reach yours, to give you both an orgasm, you pause, with a mischievous smile on your lips. You remove your hand and walk away, denying you both the release you desire.

“Not yet, Denks, I want to explore every inch of you first. Patience, pretty boy" you murmur, your voice full of desire before closing the distance between you, capturing your lips in a passionate, fiery kiss. Your lips meet with a hunger and intensity that has been growing between you, lighting a fire within both of you.

He responds eagerly, his lips moving in sync with yours, the taste and feel of him electrifying (badum tss) your senses. Your tongues intertwine, dancing in a passionate rhythm as the kiss deepens, as time seems to stop as you lose yourself in the intensity of the moment, the world fading away until there's just the two of you and the raw desire coursing through your veins.

With a heated intensity, you press your hips against Denki's, aligning your bodies and bringing your erections together in a tempting embrace with the help of your hands. The contact sends a wave of pleasure through both of you, intensifying the desire coursing through your veins.

The blonde sighs against your lips when their limbs meet, the feeling of your touch sending waves of pleasure through his body. A loud moan escapes his lips as the friction between you lights a fire inside.

You move your hips in a slow, deliberate rhythm, grinding against each other, reveling and moaning at the pleasure that builds with each movement; As your bodies move in unison, the room fills with the sounds of shared pleasure, a symphony of sighs, moans and whimpers. The world outside disappears as you lose yourself in the sensation, completely consumed by the pleasure.

The pleasure builds, an exquisite tension that brings you closer to the edge. But you savor the moment, prolonging the pleasure, wanting to explore every sensation and share the

ecstasy together.

You increase the speed of your hand movements, firmly gripping Kami's member as you continue to pleasure him. Simultaneously, you leave a trail of kisses along his torso, leaving a trail of heated kisses in your wake.

Kaminari's body shudders under your touch, his breathing becoming ragged as the combined sensations overwhelm him. His eyes close, lost in the overwhelming pleasure flowing through him as your lips explore every inch of his torso, leaving a path of searing kisses along his skin. You revel in the taste and texture of his flesh, savoring the heady mix of desire and sweat that lingers on his body as you suck firmly, making sure to leave marks.

As you focus on his pleasure and your own, your hand moves stronger and faster, with purpose and precision, a skilled dance of pleasure that brings you closer to the edge. Kami's moans get louder, mixing with the sounds of your kisses and sucks and the rhythmic movements of your hand.

The intensity increases, and you find a rhythm that pleases you both, squeezing hard and going faster, bringing each other closer to the edge of pleasure. The room fills with the sounds of your shared pleasure, a symphony of moans and sighs and wet noises from both your arousals that echoes through the air.

The overwhelming pleasure drives you forward and this time you don't stop, your grip on Kaminari's member tightens, bringing you both closer to your own release.

As the pleasure reaches its peak, you and Kami find yourself on the brink of release, your bodies shaking with anticipation and desire. With a final wave of ecstasy, the two of you came together, experiencing an explosive release that leaves you both breathless and completely satisfied.

A symphony of moans fills the air as you and kaminari succumb to the overwhelming pleasure that washes over you. Your bodies convulse in unison, enjoying the waves of ecstasy that run through your veins, and among your haze of orgasm you distinguish the scream that your partner lets out in the midst of pleasure.

The world around you disappears, as you are consumed by the intensity of the moment, lost in the blissful chaos of release. The sensations course through your body, leaving you shaking and short of breath, your senses heightened to the limit. Time seems to stand still as you enjoy your shared climax, the room filling with the smell of passion and the sound of heavy breathing.

You slowly come back from the euphoria, your bodies still intertwined, the intimacy and vulnerability between you is palpable. A satisfied smile graces your lips and is mirrored by the boy below you as you revel in the pleasure you shared, grateful for the connection you made with your once disgruntled roommate, your foreheads touching while you close your eyes.

s/n: i just want to ride this cute guy's face

#smut #imagine #i love this man sm #x male!reader #male reader smut #x male reader #male!reader #male reader #denki kaminari #kaminari x reader #mha kaminari #bnha kaminari #kaminari denki #denki x male reader #denki smut #mha denki #bnha denki #denki x reader

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thunderwavesolveseverything · 4 months

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Pick Your Friends Carefully

[Astarion x Named Tav]

“Oh dear, cheer up." Ethel mocked, eyeing Phayelynn inside her cage, "Take this as a lesson learned," she continued to taunt her, "You should have been more careful when choosing your friends."

Ethel wiped her hands, signifying the end of their conversation.

The sound of Ethel’s laughter echoed in the tiny space while Phayelynn slumped to the floor the realization hitting her. They abandoned her.

or....

Ethel, after kidnapping Phayelynn, convinces her that the others aren't coming to rescue her.

I think one of my few complaints about Baldur's Gate is the lack of companion/companion interaction. Like, I would love to be able to still play as Tav, but choose to play as one of the companions and leave Tav behind, and still get the same kinds of interactions between the party if Tav was still there. I think its sad that Tav is the only one to hold relationships with the party members. So this is me, self-indulging and making the party friends.

(word count: 7,110)

Read on AO3 or below :)

Masterlist for Phayelynn’s adventures here

Pick Your Friends Carefully

The stench of decay and filth wafted through the air, emanating from the hag’s lair. The room was cluttered with various bottles and jars, each containing bubbling, foul-smelling potions. A slab of rock served as a makeshift table, upon which the bottles were arranged haphazardly. In the center of the room, a large cauldron bubbled and steamed, emanating a putrid odor that made Phayelynn’s stomach churn.

From her cage, she tried to hold back her nausea as she watched the hag, Ethel, moving about the room. Ethel, still in her monstrous form, bounced around the room in a twisted, almost dance-like manner. As she worked, she hummed a haunting tune, adding to the eerie atmosphere of the lair.

Phayelynn gripped the bars of her cage tightly, attempting to glimpse Mayrina through the doorway, who was imprisoned in a cage suspended above a deep ravine. However, her view was obstructed, and she could barely distinguish Mayrina’s figure from inside the room.

Her face contorted in frustration as she scowled at her surroundings. Her fingers, wrapped around the cage’s bars, suddenly slackened and loosened as she was about to concede defeat. Ethel’s cage had managed to suppress her magic somehow. When she had been thrown inside, she had fervently attempted to unleash thunderwave, but the effort had been in vain. No matter how much she strained and exerted herself, nothing happened - not a flicker of magic.

Suddenly, Ethel gave a cutting whistle, then flowed back into the out-of-tune humming, causing Phayelynn to wince. She watched as Ethel poured two bottles of liquid into a teapot, creating a puff of pink smoke.

“Gods, your pitch is all wrong.” Phayelynn couldn’t resist the snide comment.

Ethel paused, her hands hovering mid-air before shaking her head and continuing with her work. With a practiced hand, she opened a canister and scooped out a small spoonful of a thick, black mixture. Another cloud of pungent steam emitted from the teapot as she added it. Ethel stirred the mixture with a long, gnarled spoon, her eyes fixed intently on the pot.

“What is that?” As the aroma filled the room, Phayelynn couldn’t help but wrinkle her nose in revulsion. She opened her mouth to continue, but before she could say anything, Ethel turned to face her, her long, pointed nose scrunching threateningly.

“You’d best keep your mouth shut, girl,” Ethel warned with her voice sharp and biting. “I know it must be hard for ‘ya, but please, petal, I’m trying to work. Don’t make me sew your lips shut.” She wagged a finger at Phayelynn, her eyes glinting with a dangerous light.

Phayelynn gulped, her heart racing as she realized that Ethel wasn’t joking.

Ethel let out a long and tired sigh. “If you must know, it’s for another client who will be arriving shortly.” She turned around to put the lid over the teapot and placed it off to the side, taking a moment to stretch her aching back. As she faced Phayelynn, her expression changed; she looked conniving and dastardly, and she began explaining in a low voice, “A love potion - the poor dear fears her husband is having an affair and wants to keep his temptation for pretty things at bay. This potion will do the trick.”

Phayelynn’s stomach churned. She bit back a wince and held onto the cage’s bars to steady herself. She narrowed her eyes at Ethel and questioned, “And what’s in it for you? What’s the trick? I doubt you’re doing this out of the kindness of your heart.”

“I don’t like what you’re insinuating, petal,” Ethel’s smile revealed her pointed, jagged teeth, sending chills down Phayelynn’s spine. “There’s no trick, cross your heart.” she continued, her voice dripping with sinister intent. “This potion will make him absolutely insane for her. I just can’t bear to see the poor girl heartbroken. She’s a sweet thing, really. She has manners, unlike you.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry for not being more appreciative of the hag who kidnapped me!” Phayelynn spat sarcastically, heart racing with fear and apprehension.

“You were being rude! I helped keep you alive. You should’ve seen yourself when you were brought to me,” Ethel snapped. She approached Phayelynn’s cage and said, “Rudeness must be punished.”

Phayelynn didn’t back down and nodded towards the door where Mayrina was being held captive on the other side. “Was that what you were doing to her? Are you going to force-feed me a pie?”

“Hahaha!” Ethel cackled like a witch. “Mayrina is a stupid girl. She can’t take care of herself, let alone the child. She needs me.”

“No, what she needs is to get out of this place and away from you. I don’t know what you promised her or why she came to you, but-”

Phayelynn was interrupted by Ethel’s boisterous laughter. The sound reverberated through the room.

“Hahaha! Petal, you don’t have a clue in that thick skull of yours about how hags are born, do you?” Ethel said, laughing even louder.

Phayelynn’s face contorted with horror and disgust. She was taken aback by Ethel’s remark. “No, I can’t say I ever thought about how you,” Phayelynn motioned towards Ethel’s grotesque body, shuddering at the thought, “reproduce..”

Ethel’s laughter rang out as she wiped away a fake tear. “Oh, deary,” she said, still chuckling. “I might keep you around longer than dessert. You are irksome, but you do make me laugh. We are born when another eats a newborn.”

The thought of Ethel devouring Mayrina’s helpless baby sent shivers down Phayelynn’s spine. Ethel taunted her with a wicked laugh, her eyes glinting with malicious joy.

“Oh, don’t look so upset,” Ethel said, waving Phayelynn off casually. “Mayrina came to me. She wants me to take the babe off her hands.”

Phayelynn’s heart skipped a beat, gasping in disbelief, and her voice trembled as she spoke,

“What?”

Surely, Ethel was lying.

Ethel, on the other hand, snorted in response. “In exchange for the babe, I’ll resurrect her husband. His coffin’s right outside.” Ethel’s voice was cold and matter-of-fact.

Phayelynn was still struggling to understand why anyone would make such a deal. “She can’t do that. That’s her own flesh and blood. How could she?” “ she asked. Her eyes narrowed as she fixed Ethel with a mistrustful gaze. “There’s a trick, isn’t there? There’s no way she knows what her child will become.”

“I have already told her everything she needs to know,” Ethel replied with a sly smirk. “I will teach her child magic, and they will have a good home. Mayrina will get what she wants. And so will I. And you, petal, will make a fine dessert.”

Phayelynn, trapped in her cage and facing the prospect of becoming a hag’s dessert, shook the bars with all her might while screaming, “You won’t get away with this! My friends will come!”

Ethel mockingly said, “And what? They’ll kill me? Ha, they can bloody try.” she continued to taunt her, “No, they’re still upstairs, arguing about what to do. The green one, she wants to leave you. The others are nearly convinced. I don’t know what you did to piss them off, but with that mouth of yours, I can’t blame them.”

Phayelynn’s face fell as she struggled to think of a witty retort or a clever comeback to Ethel’s biting words. She couldn’t muster a response.

Ethel wiped her hands, signifying the end of their conversation. She looked at Phayelynn with a last glimpse of pity as tears welled up in Phayelynn’s eyes. Ethel couldn’t help but laugh, “Oh dear, cheer up. Take this as a lesson learned. You should have been more careful in choosing your friends.”

The sound of Ethel’s laughter echoed in the tiny space while Phayelynn slumped to the floor of her dirty cage, tears escaping her.

---

As they all huddled in the dimly lit room, Astarion felt a sense of unease creeping up his spine. The plan they had agreed upon was risky, but his survival depended on it. Finding the secret passageway behind the hag’s fireplace had been surprisingly easy once they had all come to a consensus. Even though every instinct in his body told him to stay away, he couldn’t ignore Gale’s argument with Lae’zel about leaving Phayelynn to the hag.

Astarion’s concern wasn’t that Phayelynn was in danger; it was that he couldn’t let her be taken by the hag when the trust he had gained from her was invaluable. She let him drink from her last night. She had defended him against the Gur. She had nearly died for him.

He knew he would never be able to attain the same level of trust with Gale, Shadowheart, and Lae’zel.

If he wanted to survive this ordeal and maintain his position in the group, he had to save her. It couldn’t be Gale or Shadowheart. It had to be him.

“Careful where you tread here. A hag’s magic is not to be trifled with.”

As they made their way down the creaky and rotting wooden steps leading into the hag’s lair, Gale’s voice echoed through the dark, eerie chamber. The air was thick with a pungent odor of magic and other unspeakable things that made Astarion’s skin crawl.

Gale’s warning was not lost on Astarion, though he couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the obviousness of it.

As they descended the stairs, they stopped in their tracks. This was a wretched place, filled with twisted abominations that seemed to revel in their own depravity being put on display. Everywhere they looked, there were grotesque reminders of the horrors that had transpired in a hag’s lair. Astarion was used to witnessing countless atrocities in his two centuries as a vampire spawn. He found himself feeling a mixture of revulsion and fascination. Despite the overwhelming sense of dread that hung heavy in the air, he couldn’t help but be drawn in by the macabre beauty of it all.

It was as if he had descended into the depths of the earth, into some hidden cavern or forgotten tomb. The only light source came from a series of glowing green bulbs that cast an eerie pallor over everything they touched. As his eyes adjusted to the dim light, Astarion began to make out the details of the room. To his left, he saw a mirror reflecting the image of the skull propped up by a tangle of roots from the ground, giving it an unsettling, otherworldly appearance.

Moving further into the room, Astarion saw an elf posed in terror. Her eyes were blown out wide, and her mouth hung open in a scream that had been frozen in time. In her hands, she clutched her own disembodied head as if trying to comprehend the horror that had befallen her.

The room seemed to go on forever, each new detail more unsettling than the last. It was as if Astarion had stumbled into a nightmare, one from which he might never awaken.

Gale then let out a cry of pain and hunched over, grabbing his sides in agony.

Astarion’s instincts kicked in, and instead of rushing to Gale’s side to offer aid, he reached down for his daggers, waiting for whatever trap Gale had triggered to reveal itself.

Shadowheart’s eyes were filled with both urgency and concern as she reached out to Gale, placing one hand on his shoulder and the other on his chest, trying to help him stand. She asked him, “Are you alright? What happened?” with her face furrowed, trying to assess the situation.

Gale let out a deep sigh as he tried to stand up, his body still recovering from whatever had hit him.

“Is it the tadpole?” Lae’zel hissed, ever-alert and ready to strike, and quickly reached for her weapon- if he so much as twitches, she narrowed her eyes. Shadowheart, however, shot her a warning look.

“I fear it’s not the tadpole.”Gale attempted to give her a reassuring smile, but she kept her hand over the hilt of her blade. Gale took a deep breath before looking at Shadowheart, his voice slightly hoarse. “I--I’m alright,” he said, hesitating.

“What was that?” she asked again, her tone more insistent this time.

Gale stood before the group, his eyes roving over each individual before him. He hesitated momentarily, unsure if he could trust them enough to reveal his secret. His gaze fell upon Astarion, who met his look with a steady, unwavering stare. For a moment, Gale felt a pang of resentment towards the vampire. But then, as he studied Astarion’s face more closely, he suddenly understood. Astarion had kept his own secret from the group, just as Gale was considering keeping his.

Gale struggled to his feet with the help of his staff and raised his hand in a gesture of apology. “I am sorry, Astarion. I realize now that my earlier response was unfair. I must confess that I, too, have a particular appetite,” he said, his voice tinged with reluctance.

A look of dread crossed Astarion’s face as he let out a long sigh and leaned back. “Please don’t tell me you’re a werewolf. I had a feeling there was something off about the smell of your blood,” he said, his voice full of apprehension.

Gale felt a twinge of offense at the insinuation but quickly composed himself. “No, I am not a werewolf,” he said firmly. “But I must admit that there is something about me that I have never shared with anyone before except my cat. If we are to continue traveling together and trusting each other, I think it’s only fair that I tell you.” He took a deep breath and paused momentarily before continuing, “I have this condition... It’s very different from the parasite we all share, but it’s just as deadly.”

A moment of silence followed Gale’s words, and Astarion cocked his head, his eyes narrowed with both curiosity and suspicion. Shadowheart, on the other hand, took a step back, her expression betraying a hint of fear and uncertainty.

“What kind of condition are we talking about here?” she asked.

Gale sensed the unease in her tone and quickly reassured her, “Don’t worry, it’s not contagious. But to be honest, the specifics are rather personal.”

Astarion arched an eyebrow. He tapped his foot and crossed his arms against his chest, jutting out his hip impatiently, “Come now darling,” Astarion exclaimed, “can’t you just get on with it? We don’t have all day. We’re kind of in the middle of something, you know.”

Shadowheart let out a sigh of frustration. Astarion’s impatience wasn’t helping the situation.

Gale, however, seemed to understand the urgency of the matter. He appreciated her support but didn’t require it. “No, I understand,” he replied with a nod. “Time is of the essence. We must rescue Phayelynn as soon as possible, so I’ll be frank: Every so often, I need to acquire magical items and absorb the Weave within them.”

Gale was met with silence. He let out a nervous laugh, feeling the weight of their confusion. He knew he hadn’t explained it well enough, but he didn’t have much time to explain thoroughly, and Astarion was right - now was not a good time for his condition to act up.

“So, let me get this straight,” Astarion spoke up, breaking the awkward quietness with a skeptical tone in his voice. “you’re telling us that you’re addicted to magic?” His disbelief was palpable, but he was voicing what was on everyone’s mind.

Quick to correct him, Gale rushed to explain, “No, no, nothing like that. You’ve got it all wrong. Magic isn’t some kind of narcotic to me; it’s quite literally a life-saver! You see, I need an item that can absorb the Weave within, or else- let’s just say you don’t want to know what happens.”

Gale’s tone was earnest, and it was clear that he was struggling to make the others understand the severity of his situation, and with what little details he spared, and he feared that their skepticism would only make things worse.

Shadowheart let out a deep sigh. It wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility for a wizard to get caught up in some sort of trouble that resulted in them having to consume literal magic. She then gestured towards Gale’s bag of holding, prompting him to hand it over to her. A look of confusion crossed his face as he shrugged off the bag from his shoulders.

Shadowheart began to rummage through the bag, pushing aside their packs and supplies until she found what she was looking for: a helmet she had found back in the blighted village.

Shadowheart handed over the helmet to Gale.

Astarion’s disapproval was visible as he raised his voice, “Seriously? You’re just going to give him something that could be useful in this fight we’re about to start with a hag?” He flared his arms around, “Wonderful. Brilliant. I can already see how this will end up. Better start counting up our gold while you’re at it. I hope we’ll have enough for all of us to get that old sack of bones to resurrect us when we inevitably get ourselves killed.”

Shadowheart ground her teeth together. “Must you be so dramatic?” she asked him. “No one was going to wear that hideous thing either way. This is what friends do. They help each other.”

Astarion’s laugh rang across the room, his sneer showing off his fangs. “Hah-” he chortled, “us, friends? That’s hilarious. Do you really think that’s what we are now? Friends?” His tone was biting and sarcastic.

Shadowheart’s face contorted sternly, “We need to trust each other,” she said, her gaze shifting from Astarion, then to Lae’zel. “We need all the friends we can get right now if we’re going to stand any chance at making it through this.”

With a clenched fist and a warning sparkle in her eyes, she continued, “Now, either you two get on board with this plan, or you can go off alone. But we don’t have time for bickering or squabbling.” Her gaze shifted back and forth between Astarion and Lae’zel. “Now, shall we go save our bard?”

Astarion’s eyes narrowed as Gale thanked her for the help and started absorbing the magic out of the helmet. Astarion shook his head, his brows knitting together as he turned on his heels and walked further into the hag’s lair.

Friends, he thought bitterly. The irony of it all was not lost on him. Hilarious indeed.

---

Phayelynn was curled up in a ball, her knees pulled up to her chest and arms wrapped tightly around them. She had been there for what felt like an eternity. Her eyes were red and puffy, and her ponytail was loose and disheveled as she leaned against a corner of the cage.

Suddenly, she heard the sound of something clicking, like a key jingling in a lock. She buried her head in her arms snugger. Ethel’s sharp claws would soon wrap around her arm and drag her out. Her body tensed up in anticipation, but nothing came. Hesitantly, she looked up, and to her surprise, she saw Astarion standing above her.

“You came... for me?” she stammered, wiping her tear-streaked cheeks with her sleeve, hoping to hide the evidence of her crying.

Astarion looked almost insulted that she would think he wouldn’t come to rescue her. He let out a long sigh and rolled his eyes.

“Let’s not make a big deal about it, now shall we?” he said, finishing picking the lock and pulling the creaky wooden door open.

“But Ethel?” Phayelynn asked, slowly standing, her hands shaking as she tried to straighten out her clothes.

“The others are taking care of her as we speak. Now, unless you want to be hag food?” Astarion replied with a hint of sarcasm in his voice. He stepped aside to give Phayelynn room to exit the cage.

Phayelynn nodded, feeling a little shaky and unsteady on her feet. Her eyes shifted towards a nearby table, where she saw her dagger and crossbow thrown carelessly. They had been taken from her when Ethel had captured her. She hurried to pick up her weapons.

She could hear the battle picking up between the others and Ethel in the background. Her heart was pounding, still not believing they had actually come for her.

She turned to face Astarion and gave him a warm smile and said, “Thank you for saving me. I thought I was done for.”

Astarion’s face twisted into a grimace, and he shook his head. “Please don’t make me say ‘you’re welcome’ because I won’t,” he said, clearly uncomfortable with the idea of doing something good.

“Of course,” she replied with a soft giggle, her eyes glistening. However, her expression quickly turned serious as she gestured towards the door. “Shall we go help kill a hag?”

Astarion let out an embittered sigh as if this was the last thing he wanted to do in all of Faerûn, “Ugh, I suppose.” His shoulders slumped. With a deep breath, he followed her out the door, steeling himself for the battle ahead.

As Astarion and Phayelynn made their way out of the room, they were met with the cacophony of Gale and Shadowheart, unleashing a flurry of spells at Ethel. Ethel, in turn, had created two identical clones of herself, one of which was locked in a fierce battle with Lae’zel.

With lightning-fast movements, the duplicate of Ethel evaded Lae’zel’s sword strikes with ease. It vanished into a mist, causing Lae’zel’s sword to plunge forward and embed itself in the ground. Lae’zel recovered effortlessly, hoisting her sword over her shoulder and scanning the area for any sign of Ethel or her duplicates. Her eyes flickered with grit

“Chk,” Lae’zel’s disdainful expression was unmistakable as she spotted Astarion and Phayelynn and held her nose up to the bard. “Must you stick out your neck for every dimwit in distress?”

Phayelynn blushed sheepishly but quickly regained her composure. “I think I’ve learned my lesson this time,” she said. She motioned to herself. “Action,” she explained, then gestured towards Ethel. “Consequence.”

Astarion let out a derisive laugh, “I’ll believe that when I see it,” he said with a smirk, clearly doubting that Phayelynn had truly learned her lesson.

Ethel then let out a cackle, a fire bolt shooting out from her fingertips, and set Mayrina’s cage ablaze. Panic-stricken, Mayrina cried out for help and tried to flee away from the bars to avoid getting burned. The flames were growing rapidly, and Shadowheart immediately called out to Gale, hoping he could spawn some water to extinguish the fire before it was too late.

“She’ll be roast like a goose if that fire isn’t put out!” Shadowheart called out, her voice cracking as she fought against the nausea.

But Gale was unable to respond as he was also hit with a ray of sickness from one of Ethel’s duplicates, and his stomach twisted and churned, causing him to hunch over in agony.

Astarion quickly reached for his bow, pulling out an ice arrow from his quiver. With expert precision, he took aim and shot the cage, and the icy tip of the arrow exploded, dousing the flames. He then moved his sights on Ethel and loaded another arrow. Just as the arrow was about to hit its target, Ethel disappeared.

Lae’zel carefully examined the group of Ethel’s clones, trying to discern which one was the real Ethel. And then, finally, she spotted it - a subtle difference in the real Ethel’s appearance, the slight shimmer of magic that surrounded her.

Without wasting any time, Lae’zel sprang into action, leaping forward and up onto a platform that overlooked the room. She landed behind the real Ethel, raising her sword in preparation for a decisive strike.

But Ethel was one step ahead of her plan. With a wicked laugh, she revealed that she had anticipated Lae’zel’s move all along. “Too slow, deary,” she taunted, and with a snap of her fingers, Ethel was gone.

Suddenly, Ethel reappeared abruptly in front of Astarion and Phayelynn, causing Phayelynn to let out a loud scream of startled surprise. Astarion’s reflexes kicked in as he instinctively reached for another arrow, only to realize with a sinking feeling that his quiver was empty.

“Shit.” Astarion let out a frustrated curse under his breath as he threw the bow aside, opting instead for his trusty pair of daggers. He eyed the hag warily, reluctant to get too close to her. Turning his gaze to Phayelynn, he spoke up with a hint of annoyance in his voice. “Darling, would you mind giving us some breathing room?”

Phayelynn was lost in thought for a few moments, trying to understand what was being asked of her. After a few moments of silence, it finally clicked in her mind, and she rubbed her hands together with excitement.

“Right, right,” she smiled mischievously, “De- damn it,” she started out strong, loud but the conviction in her voice faded as she caught herself going through the motions of holding an imaginary lute, “I really need to figure out this lute thing,” With a heavy sigh, she brought her hands too her chest and then threw them out, unleashing a wave of bright purple energy that flowed out of her, while she yelled the magic words, “De Torno!”

As the spell hit Ethel, the sheer impact of it sent her flying backward, and she felt herself teetering dangerously close to the ravine’s edge. She flailed her arms, trying to regain her balance, but the ground beneath her feet was uneven and treacherous.

Meanwhile, Mayrina was frantically trying to get Phayelynn’s attention, reaching through the bars and waving her arms about. Mayrina’s voice was filled with fear and desperation as she screamed out, “No! Stop! Don’t do this! Leave me here!”

As Astarion and Phayelynn stood there, Astarion’s eyes narrowed with confusion. “Wait, I’m sorry, she doesn’t want to be saved?” he asked, his gaze darting towards Phayelynn. “What in the bloody hells are we doing here then?”

Phayelynn shook her head, a look of irritation crossing her features. “It’s a long story,” she said, “but don’t listen to her. We need to stop Ethel.”

Astarion raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical, but couldn’t push the matter further as Ethel rose up straight, moving towards them both with a fierce look in her eyes. Astarion readied his knives defensively while Phayelynn began to focus her energy to attempt to conjure up more magic. In an instant, Ethel creates several duplicates of herself, each one fanning out across the room.

“This is impossible.” Astarion jeered in frustration, eyes bouncing around the room, trying to locate them all.

Ethel snapped her fingers with a sudden burst of power, and in the blink of an eye, Mayrina was no longer in her cage. With another snap, Ethel herself had disappeared. Phayelynn felt a flash of panic but breathed a sigh of relief when Mayrina reappeared. She looked bewildered and frazzled, her tear-stained face wild as she looked around. Phayelynn stepped forward to reach for her, but her relief soon turned into dread. Another Mayrina appeared to her right, looking just as petrified as the first. Phayelynn was flabbergasted as she looked between them.

Ethel wasn’t done toying with them yet.

Lae’zel jumped down from her perch, brandishing her sword and charging towards the first Mayrina that had appeared. She swung her sword recklessly, her eyes filled with ferocious purpose.

Phayelynn’s instincts kicked in, and she acted quickly, without thought. She reached out and pulled the girl towards her, out of harm’s way. She winced as the blade narrowly missed Mayrina’s body by mere inches. Phayelynn’s heart pounded with adrenaline, but she tried to keep her cool.

Gale, getting his bearings, his stomach finally settling from the spell, saw what had happened as he shot out an array of magic missiles, targeting the hags’ illusions as they appeared. His eyes widened at Lae’zel’s rash actions.

His voice rose to a shout, “Are you mad? She’s pregnant! We don’t know who is who!”

However, Lae’zel didn’t share his deep concern as she sneered at his worry. She was not fooled by the hags’ trick and could see the essence of magic she had noticed before on this Mayrina. She looked at Phayelynn, daring her to defend this Mayrina again. In a swift motion, Lae’zel ripped the girl from Phayelynn’s grasp and plunged her sword into her stomach, the blade sinking through to the hilt. The sight was enough to make even Astarion grimace as everyone else in the party let out a collective inhale of breath.

Lae’zel smirked as the girl flickered, the illusion fading, and Ethel once again stood before her, sword deep in her gut.

The real Mayrina cried out in relief, her hands clutching her stomach. “Oh, thank the gods,” she exclaimed, visibly shaken.

The other watched silently as Lae’zel pulled out her sword, the hag releasing a strangled gasp. Her gasp quickly twisted into a laugh, finding it amusing that she had been caught- until she was pelted with a barrage of magic missiles.

“Pest!” Ethel smirked, body whipping around so fast it was almost a blur of motion as she looked towards Gale’s direction. She waved her hands, casting a hold person spell on him, then faced Lae’zel once more, mocking her as she slashed her claws against the githyanki armor, “What kind of botched portal brought something like you here,” she hissed.

Phayelynn’s eyes were fixed on Lae’zel, who clutched her head in pain after the blow. Her mind raced to think of anything that she could do that would help.

Lae’zel was still too close to Ethel, and she didn’t want to sweep her up in the blast along with Ethel if she cast thunderwave. She had learned her lesson after the fight against the Harpies with Astarion. She remembered cloud of daggers, but Ethel could easily step out of it. The energy she would use to conjure it up would just go to waste, and she could not afford that- not without her lute to use as a channel for her magic.

Her fingers twitched, and she looked to Gale, wishing she had his extensive range of spells and talent. She saw him still struck, frozen by Ethel’s magic. If only she had a hold person spell-

Suddenly, thinking back on the fight with the Harpies, she remembered something she could do. Her eyes flickered with excitement and hope as she stepped forward and snapped her fingers, gaining the hag’s attention. A mischievous smirk spread across Phayelynn’s lips as she puffed out her chest and shouted the spell, “Rezum teniates!”

The magic wrapped around Ethel. She writhed in agony as the spell made her throw herself to the ground. She curled into a fetal position, clutching her stomach tightly as if trying to ward off the pain that was wracking her body. And yet, amid it all, she couldn’t help but let out a chilling, maniacal laugh that echoed through the air.

As the hag’s cackles filled the air, Shadowheart’s eyes fixed on the scene unfolding before her. The hag’s duplicates had shattered, and Gale was finally released from her grasp. Shadowheart couldn’t help but nod in approval at Phayelynn.

The fight was far from over, even as the hag lay sprawled on the ground.

“Strike. Now, while she’s down,” Lae’zel’s commanding voice boomed, urging the others to take advantage of the hag’s momentary weakness.

Astarion smirked mischievously in agreement as he joined the final move against the hag. He deftly darted around Phayelynn, his daggers glinting under the ghostly green light, as he sought to land precise strikes in the hag’s most vital areas.

Lae’zel lunged, her powerful muscles propelling her forward as she sliced her sword through the air with tremendous force. Ethel was overwhelmed by the rogue and the fighter-dazed; she put her hand up shakily in surrender.

Lae’zel stood before her enemy with her sword poised to strike. She had fought countless battles and never once showed mercy to her opponents. Yet, she saw a flicker of fear and desperation in Ethel’s eyes, and her ruthless resolve to emerge victorious and end the battle warring left her in a gridlock.

These Istik’s were making her soft.

She halted her sword mid-air, listening as the hag started begging.

“Arge-wait, just a tick!” Ethel winced as she stood, keeping her hands raised.

Astarion took a slow and calculated step backward, daggers held securely in his hands. He kept a keen eye on Lae’zel, waiting for her signal. The gith wore a hard look, her muscular arms flexing as she tightened her grip around the hilt of her sword.

Ethel knew she had seconds to make her case before they continued their attack. She spoke up, trying to reason with them, “You may think you’re doing the right thing by killing me,” she said, her voice shaking slightly, “but killing me won’t solve anything. I will find a way to return. I always do.”

As she spoke, she looked each of them in the eye, promising to make good on her threat. Her eyes landed on Lae’zel. Ethel pointed a finger at her and added, “However, it’s a rather unpleasant experience, so why don’t we be civilized about this?” Ethel then gestured towards Phayelynn, “You have your friend back, but I also have something else that I think you might be interested in.”

Shadowheart, with a look of disdain on her face, took a step forward, her eyes fixed on the hag standing before her. She spoke venomously, “We don’t want your cure.” Her gaze shifted towards Lae’zel, with a frustrated expression. “What are you doing?” she demanded, “Just end this already.”

Rolling her eyes, Lae’zel glowers at Shadowheart as if aggrieved that the cleric would think she would fall for such a ridiculous ploy to trick them all once more. She lowers her sword, only to get a better look at the hag, and points the tip towards Ethel’s chest. She firm as she speaks, “A servant of Vlaakith wants for nothing that her queen can’t provide.”

“Hold your horses! Just hear me out!”

Lae’zel, however, was in no mood for negotiations. With a murderous glare, she dug the sword’s tip into Ethel’s chest, causing a sharp pain. Ethel winced, feeling the cold metal pierce the first layer of skin. As she backed up, she stumbled into Astarion’s daggers, the cold steel pressed against her back.

“Let me leave with the girl and her babe,” she said to Lae’zel, her voice low and urgent, “and I’ll give you power. Do you want to be stronger? Tougher?”

Lae’zel’s expression remained stoic, but there was a flicker of interest in her eyes at the mention of power.

The hag turned to Phayelynn, “Smarter?” she said, her tone dripping with condescension.

Phayelynn gave the hag a glare.

Gale had joined Phayelynn’s side. He shook his head at the hag’s miserable attempts to bargain with Lae’zel, his expression a mix of mistrust and jest. Crossed arms against his chest, he said, “If any power she could offer us were actually worth anything, we wouldn’t have been able to beat her so easily.”

“Agreed,” Shadowheart nodded.

Lae’zel narrowed her eyes, piercing through the hag’s facade. With a sly smirk, Lae’zel titled her head and spoke in a low, menacing voice, “I know a beat opponent when I see one, and I have no interest in dirtying my blade with your kind’s blood, but I shall if I must. Give me this power of which you speak, along with the girl, and I will allow you to leave this place unharmed.”

Ethel looked around- the rogue and the fighter, each brandishing a set of sharp blades, the steel glinting in the dim light. The wizard, already conjuring a small flame in his palm, ready to unleash his fiery magic. And the cleric, gripping her heavy mace tightly, her piercing gaze fixed on Ethel. Even Phayelynn wore a determined expression on her face, her fingertips flickering with purple magic.

Ethel let out a hardy laugh, acknowledging her inevitable defeat.

“You greedy little bollocks,” She wagged a finger at Lae’zel. Reaching up, she ran her fingers over her head, her claws digging through flesh, peeling off the outer layer of her scalp with a squelch. Ethel laughed at the disgusted faces and sounds they made as she threw the flab of skin, thin, weedy hair sprouting out of it, down at Lae’zel’s feet.

Ethel warned, “I will not forget this sweetness. You have my word.”

Mayrina stood in terror as Ethel began to cast a teleportation spell. Her mind raced in desperation. With tears streaming down her face, Mayrina stumbled forward and grabbed Ethel’s arm, pleading with her to reconsider, “But the deal!” she cried out, her voice trembling, “What about my husband? What’s going to happen to him?”

But Ethel was in no mood to listen. With a sudden jerk of her arm, she shook Mayrina off and snapped, “The deal’s off, you dumb cow!” She pointed an accusing finger at Phayelynn, who stood nearby, looking shocked and bewildered by Mayrina’s reaction. “And you’ve got her to thank for it!”

Without another word, Ethel vanished into thin air. The air crackled with the remnants of her magic, leaving a sense of unease in its wake. Mayrina felt a cold sweat break out across her forehead as she realized that her worst fears had just come true.

Shadowheart’s eyes blazed with indignation as she clenched her fists and gritted her teeth. “Damn it!” she hissed, her gaze fixed on the spot where Ethel had just been. Turning to Lae’zel, she demanded, “Why did you just let her go? We could have killed her!”

“We bested her in combat,” Lae’zel declared, her voice dripping with contempt as she sheathed her sword. “It would’ve been a waste of our time to engage further with such a weak creature.”

Phayelynn’s face creased with concern, and she opened her mouth to speak. Before she could utter a single syllable, Mayrina lunged forward with surprising speed and shoved her with all her might. Phayelynn, caught off-guard by the sudden attack, lost her balance and teetered backward in surprise.

“Hey!” Phayelynn exclaimed, her voice filled with anger as she regained her footing and turned to face Mayrina. The other woman’s face was twisted with rage, her eyes blazing with acrimony as she glared at Phayelynn.

“You bastard!” Mayrina shrieked, her voice ringing through the room. “You ruined it! You ruined everything!” Her feet thudded on the ground as she stomped in place, fists clasped rigidly at her sides with rage. Mayrina’s eyes blazed with vehemence, and her face warped with an expression of pure hatred.

Phayelynn’s face turned red with anger as she bristled at Mayrina’s words. Her own fists clasped at her sides, her nails digging into her palms. She wanted nothing more than to lash out at Mayrina, to push her back and yell at her. But with one look at Mayrina’s pregnant belly, Phayelynn wavered.

Instead, she barbed an accusatory finger at Mayrina and spoke through grated teeth, “You were actually going to give that hag your baby!” Her voice was lined with repulsion.

Mayrina’s eyes widened, and she took a step back, her own hands coming up in a self-justifying gesture. “She was going to bring my husband back!” she exclaimed, her voice shuddering with emotion. “Back from the dead!”

Phayelynn felt a wave of pity for Mayrina, but it quickly dissipated when Mayrina persisted.

“And now I’ll never see him again, and it’s all because of you!”

Phayelynn took an innate breath, fighting to keep her own emotions in check. Although they were strangers, Phayelynn could sense the immense anguish that was consuming the woman. But she also knew that giving up her own child to a hag was not the answer.

Gale stepped forward, attempting to mediate the situation, recognizing the latent hostility steeping. “Let’s all just calm down,” he proposed.

However, his efforts were in vain as Astarion, with his usual haughty brashness, only added fuel to the fire. He put a hand on his hip and looked Mayrina up and down with a condescending expression before saying, “You’re an ungrateful thing, aren’t you?” His words were like a dagger to Mayrina’s heart, causing her to lower her head in discomfiture.

Shadowheart gave Mayrina a disapproving look, nodding her head as she agreed with Astarion. “We risked our lives for you and your child,” she pointed out, motioning towards Phayelynn. “I can promise you I wouldn’t have done that if it had not been for her. If it had not been for her, you’d be a hag’s stew.”

Even Lae’zel couldn’t resist voicing her opinion, calling Mayrina’s actions “odious,” “cowardly,” and “dishonorable.”

Marina regarded them with a sour look, her eyes brimming with tears, “Don’t act like I’m some monster!” she spat, “I have nothing left. My baby is now going to be raised in rags. Auntie Ethel promised to give this child a good life- to teach them magic even!”

Gale didn’t mince words. “You must know as well as I do that Ethel would have turned your child into a hag, just like her,” he said, his tone grave. The truth seemed to go in one ear and out the other as Mayrina stared inanely ahead, lost in her own thoughts and worries.

Mayrina’s voice was spiked as she glowered at Phayelynn. “Now I have to drag Connor’s coffin all the way back to Baldur’s Gate,” she wailed. “I hope you’re happy,” she added before shoving past Phayelynn and storming off.

Phayelynn stood in silence. They could’ve died putting their lives on the line to save Mayrina, and this was the thanks they got? How could a person be so selfish and cruel as to offer their own flesh and blood to a hag? The mere thought of it all made her blood boil, and she wondered how many other innocent lives had been sacrificed in such a manner.

Gale approached Phayelynn, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. Concern was written all over his face. “Are you alright?” he asked quietly. “The hag didn’t you in any way, did she?”

Phayelynn looked up at him, her stare unfocused and distant. She didn’t respond, unable to find the words to express her feelings. She simply nodded, hoping that would be enough to reassure Gale.

Astarion, who had been watching wordlessly from the sidelines, stepped forward. “We’re done here,” he said tightly, addressing the group. “Let’s go.”

#astarion x tav #tav bg3 #astarion x oc #astarion romance #astarion x mc #astarion x reader #baldur's gate 3

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shivunin · 3 months

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Like Constellations

Happy OC Kiss Week! Kicking off with my dear @star--nymph's Eurydice and my Emmaera. Thank you for letting me borrow her, friend!

(721 Words | No Warnings)

The rain had left the ramparts of Skyhold slick and glistening. Here, near the lights of the Great Hall, they shimmered like tiny stars caught inexplicably in stone. It was a mirror to the stars the two elves discussed now, perhaps, but these were more touchable by far than the ones cast away in the sky.

“It shouldn’t be possible,” Emmaera murmured thoughtfully, looking behind them at the tiny lights. “The rain, I mean. By all rights, we should have snow on this side of the wall, too. This place and its seasons…it’s never made sense to me.”

“Stop moving,” Eurydice said behind her. “I’m not finished.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

The clouds above parted, slowly revealing a narrow slice of the heavens above. Early evening stars peered through the break in clouds.

“Falon’Din walked,” Eurydice prompted behind her.

Emmaera had no idea what her dear friend was doing behind her, but she wasn’t especially concerned. They’d grown used to spending time tucked between crenellations, Eury’s fingers quick and clever in Emma’s long hair while Emmaera told stories. What a relief it was to sit here just like this, where she need think of nothing more than whatever tale she’d been telling.

“Falon’Din walked the woods,” Emma went on, “but most of the time he flew. He wore the shape of a great owl, its feathers cast with dark spots. An owl has fine eyes for little things, hidden things, and one by one he found all of the lost souls wandering alone there.”

The soft smell of lavender began to eclipse the scent of falling rain. Emma smiled and tilted her head back when Eurydice adjusted her grip.

“He tucked each of them safely amongst the feathers of his wings, for the journey to the Beyond is a long and dangerous one. It would have been very easy indeed to lose some of them along the way. After all, it is not so simple a thing for a mortal creature to leave behind everything it knows.”

She paused, trying to remember what came next. Eurydice’s hands gave one last, decisive tug on her hair. Stretching slightly, for she’d been sitting very still for quite some time, Emma turned and let her feet dangle over the long drop to the valley below. She began to reach for her hair, but her friend caught her hand before she could feel what had been done to it.

“Keep going,” Eurydice said.

Obligingly, Emmaera went on talking, unspooling a story beat by beat: a soul lost to the woods, a daring rescue, a home among the stars. It was one she had told before, and one she never minded telling again. It was difficult to mind when she had such a a captivated audience. Still speaking, Emmaera watched as her hand was turned upright. Eurydice's cool, green-stained fingertips traced the lines there with care.

“Falon'Din is gone now, as are all the gods,” she said at last. “Even so, perhaps his dark wings stretch across the sky even now, the way to the Beyond lit like a beacon between his feathers. Even on this very night, we can use them to show us where we are and where we ought to go. The Chantry calls them by another name, but elves know his stars nonetheless.”

“Hmm,” Eurydice said. Her eyes had drifted closed during the telling of the story, but her pale lashes fluttered open again when Emma stopped speaking. Emma turned her hand over and lifted Eury's to her mouth. She kissed each knuckle very carefully, neither too firm nor too soft. Eury allowed this, though not without a faint quiver at her ears.

“Thank you,” Emmaera said when she’d finished. “Can you remind me where it is? I'm still turned around now that we've finally found this place, and the clouds…”

“There,” Eurydice said, pointing with her free hand. As if by magic, the clouds drifted apart in the direction she pointed and a familiar cluster of stars was revealed.

Emmaera scooted closer and leaned her shoulder against Eurydice’s. As one, their palms pressed together, the two of them watched the stars. They thought of words long since past, words yet to come, and tried valiantly not to think at all about the faint green tint the sky had given to the distant stars.

#ockiss24 #oc kiss week #eurydice lavellan #emmaera lavellan #dai #shivunin scrivening #is it platonic? idk. Is it romantic? eh. They can hang out somewhere in the middle #ty kat c:#does emma forget what she was talking about occasionally because some fine point of how something works has occurred to her?#of course yes

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rockingrobin69 · 2 years

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Buttery Sweet

It wasn’t meant to happen like this—mismatched socks and ceaseless yawning, eyes glued half-shut, certainly not a morning person—coming out as a sigh, as an obviously, a bit of a joke and a bit far-too-serious. Potter stopped still, spatula vibrating in the air.

“What did you…?”

Draco blinked, suddenly aware of what he said, suddenly—shit, shit, shit—awake, gods bloody damn it, too late. “What?”

“No, you what. Did you mean that?”

“Oh. I don’t—just—” it was too bleeding early, and he didn’t get even three hours of sleep, with Potter’s hand always touching, just where he wanted it, didn’t want it, couldn’t, ahh, couldn’t—“Erm.”

Potter turned around, so slowly it was frightening, blurry in the soft light. Whatever smelled so good in the frying pan kept sizzling away happily. Apples, maybe. And butter. And—

“Draco.”

How can he make his name sound so menacing. Like a threat, a knife to his throat. And like a pillow, at the same time, soft and easy to sink into…

“Draco.”

Shit, he’s expected to answer. “I don’t… what’re you making?”

The frown deepened, twisting until it was almost a smile. “You’re not seriously trying—” then he sighed, shook his head. Made it look almost fond, somehow. Truly was a wizard, that man. “I’m not making anything, yet. Trying to bake those pastries you liked. They’re a fucking nightmare.”

He didn’t add, like you, although he could have, just as easily. Draco swallowed a lump in his throat, begged himself to be more awake, more—braver, better, something, damn it. He flung himself forward, not entirely on purpose, so he was only inches from Potter. Holding onto the counter for dear life, unsure what to do, what to say, how to be a fucking person about it—

“Draco,” Potter said again, laughing this time. Put his free hand on Draco’s bare shoulder, the most benevolent god to ever be fully dressed at six in the morning. “It’s okay. You don’t need to… we’ll have this conversation again later. Tonight. With some wine.” Then, to the look on his face, “Or not. It can wait, we don’t need… I mean… I don’t need, it’s not, I mean, I’m certainly not trying to—”

“Shut up,” Draco murmured, unintentionally(ish) grabbing him by the collar. “You’re—bloody gods above and below, I meant it, okay? ‘Course I did. Really thought I’d get out of bed so early if I didn’t… truly, Potter.”

“So grumpy in the morning,” he said, two hands sliding around Draco’s waist, his smile shining. Coming even closer, nose pressed against his. “You’re—I’m not as good as you. In keeping it down. You already know, don’t you? How I—”

“Shut up,” Draco repeated. Potter smelled like butter, like early morning and something frightening and terrific and apples and so much butter. This wasn’t how it’s meant to happen. They can talk when Draco’s more awake, when he’s coherent; for now, he kissed him, buttery-sunshinely-frighteningly-sweet.

(Day 5 of @flufftober! Find all previous ficlets here, or on AO3!)

#flufftober2022 #day 5 #Harry Potter #drarry fic #500 words #prompt: oh no you're a morning person #confessions in the early morning #sweet fluff #Harry's a god at baking obviously #rockingrobin'sflufftober #rockingrobin69 #casting: it's morning wherever you are

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haytham-loves-chocolate · 1 month

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Alternative Universe Journal 3

It is two of my OCs together in this AU Journal. There are no warnings in this one, just some soft reading.

29th of March, 1755

My dear Amias,

Take heed of this note and meet me in our special place. One where your land meets my land. Shall we plant a beautiful tree where our garden will be pure bliss? I would like to know what we will do in the future. Is the spot the end of our long stories, or is it only the beginning of our chapter?

I know this is a short letter, a dear letter to you, but hopefully, the smell soothes all your aches and worries.

From your secret love, Enola.

It was today that I was able to reunite with Amias after writing this note a few days prior.

Amias, who spoke one of the countless Native languages as Ayenwatha, made his way to our secret location. It was the perfect setting for a romantic date. One that was encircled by stunning, towering trees, ones that had exquisite springtime blooms, and wildflowers that seemed to pop up everywhere.

I opted to wear a more appropriate outfit for this occasion. In this attire, I may have looked like a low-class vendor, but I knew he would not care. He had to survive differently than I did, after all. I have on a dark blue dress that does not have the elaborate busts and undergarments of a fancy noble gown, a white apron that is knotted perfectly around my waist and chest to keep this dress from getting ruined, and a pair of handmade boots from the local tailor that are ideal for gardening. I do not wear jewelry of any kind, and I do not wear my hair in a flawless bun. Even though it seems risky, I always wear makeup of some kind. I decided not to wear makeup today, and the few servants I had gave me the look that indicated they should avoid spending too much time with me because they saw something so exotic.

To my surprise, he was not there when I finally found the location where I had asked him to meet me. I glanced above and around the trees but could not find him. Rather than get all worked up about being here before him, I got down on my knees and neatly ironed my dress so it would not get in the way of my gardening.

I work for a few minutes, pulling weeds and pulling wildflowers off the trees. Then, wiping the perspiration from my forehead with the back of my sleeve, I quietly sigh as I turn to face the work I completed. However, I realize that I see a very familiar face from atop the trees, gazing down in my direction. He hops down from the thick branch he is sitting on to stand in front of my hunched figure as soon as he sees me.

“I was wondering when you would be here.” I will always hold a particular place in my heart for his gentle voice. There are so many deep emotions that I feel just by hearing it again.

I joke back, "I was thinking you would be here sooner." His lovely face appears confused as I make my statement, and he tilts his head slightly. “I was here earlier. A few minutes earlier, so it seems.”

“You did?” My expression is now one of perplexity. "Yes, along with a surprise." I watch as his bewilderment turns into a smile.

Here, I find myself staring at his toned physique and the perfect way the sun hits him to make him appear like a gift from nature. The way his pants fit his waist in the right places, down to his bare feet. What would this man look like under a waterfall? Whoever his gods are, I wish I could thank them right now.

I saw him climb up the tree to where he was dangling just a few minutes earlier. I follow his finger, which leads to a smooth-surfaced, rocky cliff overlooking a verdant hill.

"There, let us meet."

His feet start to move with the trees as soon as his voice starts to diminish, giving the impression that he is a formidable force. I was astonished by his movements for a moment before trying my best to follow him along the trees. But as I approach the final tree, I stumble and nearly bump my head on the branch below, but I am saved by an odd sensation of strong arms and their copper glow. My cheeks turned bright red at the thought that a handsome stranger had saved me. It was then that I realized it was Amias, and I felt relieved that I was not unconscious for our secret date.

"I should teach you how to run through the branches, sweetheart." His chuckle reaches a part of my mind that causes my back to shiver with delight. With a small chuckle of my own, I soon am put down on my feet with his guidance.

Throughout the rest of the day, we stayed in that very spot with a steady breeze in the trees and our hair. At these special moments, all I can think about is him as we eat from what extra he gathered with the other tribe women from this morning. When the sun starts to set, I lay my head on his shoulder while I feel his head lay on top of mine. I feel his arm wrapped around my waist.

“You are my night. When I cannot sleep, there you are, out in the open, gazing at me.” I feel his hand move up to my side, and I feel his lips press against the top of my head. As I gaze at the reds, the purples, and the yellows of the sunset, I can’t help but wonder if this could be the night to ask if I can have him stay with me.

Instead, I am met with his counter-question, a hushed tone of voice that I can not resist: "Will you sleep under the stars with me?"

My gaze shifts to his wonderful smile and beautiful brown eyes, which are fixed on the sunset. How come he looks so good? How does he do it so consistently? I have many questions about this mystery he keeps to himself. If I had the guts to ask all of these questions, I would. Perhaps another day.

I wonder how I look from his point of view. Must I embody everything he sees? More thoughts appear to permeate my mind, but they all fade away when my eyes recognize him as the light of my life. His hand reaches out and touches my cheek, and I lean into it. All of my worries, stresses, doubts, fears, and bad dreams vanish.

I begin to close my eyes, still leaning my cheek against his touch. Then, a split second after my eyes have fully closed, I lean in closer to him. I see his face change from a flirtatious, charming grin to one of surprise and curiosity. He is now lying on the cliff's flat stone surface, while I am on top of him. After a quiet moment as the day fades into night, the stars glisten as our lips press against each other, sending me into a deep state of bliss and joyful pleasure.

I slept with him under the stars that night, as he requested. I did not say anything more.

#haytham kenway #assassin's creed #ac3 #assassin's creed 3 #assassin's creed iii #Enola Rossingol’s Journal Entry #assassins creed forsaken oc entry version #assassins creed forsaken entry #alternative universe journal

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just-your-average-cryptid · 4 months

Text

The sun on my face is gentle in its warmth, and the smell of rain lingers in the air. Siya calls me from inside; mornfeast is ready, and it smells wonderful. She lays the last tray down with a flourish, grinning at me to make sure I noticed.

“Thank you, dear.” I kiss her forehead before sitting down. “I promise I’ll finish early enough to help you one day.”

“Darling, you know I love doing this for you. And I couldn’t get up before dawn if you put the sunscreecher on my head at sunrise.” The visual nearly makes me cackle, but with her food already in my mouth, I manage to keep it to a snort. “You make sure all the animals are happy and the crops are growing. I'll make sure you don’t starve doing it.”

“I can cook, you know.”

“Mhm. I think the Ponthians would disagree.”

“That was one time! I didn’t know sunfruit would do that in the cold!”

She just smiles and glances at the sweetbread I’ve eaten a quarter of. “I should take some of this now, it’s going fast.”

“Siya…”

“Ecarra?”

“Yes?”

“I love you.”

“...I have faced the armies of every kingdom in this land and only you can ever win against me.” I love you too, dear.

“Are you going to the market today?”

“Yeah, is there anything you need?”

“Besides you? Not really.”

“You can’t just say that.” Oh?

I stand in the doorway and brush her hair behind her ear, my hand resting on her face. “Why not? It’s true.”

The indignant face she makes can’t override the pink tinge to her skin. “We’ve been married for centuries and this still happens.” It’s quiet enough that she might have been thinking out loud.

“I love you too, moonwing. Now go, I’ll clean up here.” I kiss her cheek before I let her pass and hear her mutter something as she leaves. Gods above and below, let us never be less in love than we are now.

Most of them are gone, you know.

The voice in my head is familiar, if unexpected.

It’s been a while. You sound…

Weak. I know. You are my last tether to this world.

You don’t contact me often. What’s wrong?

I would not ask anything more of you if it were not important.

I know.

I will not sully your memory of this place. Speak to me in the sunfruit field when you are ready.

Well… that can’t be anything good. I was a bit quicker than usual putting away the dishes and wrapping up the leftovers. My spine prickled as I walked to the field, where the blossoms glowed red in the sunlight as they drank in light magic. Adilet was the reason I was here, alive, instead of dead in a gutter puddle 3000 years ago. I had served him faithfully for many centuries, enough for a mutual respect to grow between us. I could see the wispy shape of his form now, catching the light like a cluster of glowflies at sunset. He seemed to be drawing from the sunfruit to maintain a corporeal presence; with the state of his power, I couldn’t blame him. He turned to face me as I kneeled, shoes sinking into the soft soil.

“Rise, Ecarra, Warrior of the Seven Kingdoms.”

“My lord. For what purpose am I called?”

His expression, even in this shifting form, was grim. “What do you know of the time before the gods?”

“...Before?”

His hand reached toward me. “There is something you must see.”

I placed my palm in his and darkness swallowed us.

“Before humans, before the gods, there was the Era of Dragons.”

#it speaks #my writing #original fiction #thunderfall #< project title #pls ask me things im trying to build back the motivation to continue this now that college classes have started again #i really like the plan i have for this! but uh. words.

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bloodrosebriars · 2 years

Text

bad apples | dear miquella i | mohg | 652

They didn’t always have apple trees outside the Bloody Mausoleum. But things have been changing recently.

Miquella’s hand is as still as always as Mohg kneels before the God’s grand pedestal, a basket of fruit held between his knees as he sits comfortably on his heels. These apples have been deemed no good by the chefs — bruises and scuffs, torn skin and plucked stems. Nothing he would consider worth tossing good food away for. Nothing he can’t, in a strange sort of way, sympathise with.

Plucked stems. Torn skin. Bad apples.

He peels away at their skin with meticulous claw.

The skin, he pops into his mouth to snack on. The fruit, he slices into quarters to give to the albinaurics. The cores, he tosses over the edge of the mausoleum — into the blood river for the birds to peck apart. All smells of roses and fruit. His claws are sticky with juices.

“Did thy tree ever bear fruit, my dear?” he asks the slumbering God before him. He doesn’t get an answer. He wasn’t expecting one. “‘Tis a funny saying, to bear fruit. Fruits of labour. Fruits of love. In a sense, if we spoke in metaphor, suppose we could call thee the fruit of the Haligtree, could we not? Literal, metaphorical… hm.”

He’s just running his mouth.

Three, four, five apples he’s sliced, placing their fruit upon a thick, silk kerchief to keep them from touching the blood-soiled ground. Miquella is still as ever. Mohg continues to speak.

“I have to wonder — and I’m sure thee wonder, too, my dear — how fares the Haligtree without thy presence. If it once bore fruit, do they rot now? Indeed, thou bringest so much energy to our little world here below the universe, I am wont to wonder how much of it still thrives within those branches, if any at all of thy essence still remains.”

More apple skin, red and bruised, he pops into his mouth. He wishes he could offer some to Miquella. He knows that would be silly. He feels the urge, anyway. Did Miquella enjoy fresh fruit?

“‘Tis a funny thing, how trees and fruits grow. We used to import our produce to thy dimension of blood, for lack of a better term, as thou surely know well. My dear, sweet Masks — bless their hearts — scouring the world above for signs of trees. ‘Tis easier now with the trees blooming within our mausoleum.”

Another apple — eight, nine, ten. Another core for the birds.

“I do wonder, though: was it thy influence that allowed these trees to grow, my dear? Never before have we had much luck with gardening. Bloodied soil be poison to all life, it seems — what an irony, that the very thing which keeps creatures alive kills the plants that… that nourish them…” Pause. “Blood… killing the trees… killing their fruit…”

His motions pause. He’s making a realisation. He’s…

Hm.

Claws, sticky with juice, dripping in nectar, stained with apple peels. He clicks them together in thought — those dangerous, deadly fingertips.

He ignores the thoughts.

For that is the Mother’s will.

“Be this your way of connecting back… to thy roots, if thou will forgive the pun?” he asks, looking up to the grand cocoon before him — at the glistening of wings, the curls of blond hair, the folds of dead skin within it. “To assist us in our gardening, as thou once planted trees for thyself? Does it make thee happy, to see the fresh blooms — the fresh apples, the rowa and peaches? Wouldst thou be happier if I planted more seedlings for thee to nourish, my sweet? Would it help remind thee of home?

“Would… thou be happier if thou wert home?

“… Art thou happy at all?”

There is no response.

And he thinks, for the sake of his Dynasty, it’s best to leave it that way.

Seventeen.

Seventeen apples.

And eighteen rotting fruits.

#[ic]#[miquella]#[drabble]#read something upsetting so i had to counter it with something bittersweet #he cares for miquella so much #he just wanted him to be happy #mohgmiq tw

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libidomechanica · 4 months

Text

Red-headed

A sonnet sequence

Over them appear’d to open for Hell. Blush-tinted cheeks, half smiles, O let me tell but half-wise; susan, we must take care of his pence, this huckster put down the red cloaks of market girls A half-disdain perched about the teeth of winter hoar. His forgotten hands: then would her brotherhood. A musical but melancholy loth to answere, nor your eccho ring. She sees him in that peep and yellow! What can be this high a? Is not more strange? And we still loud her prayse to sing, to meet him there! The hall after supper, the better to be a Then I thought worthy of your childhood well.

And now shew theyr goodly vermill stay, begging them, lay down thine own praise, which the impression by the things be so witty, but I shall not fail; a musical but melancholy spirit, smile or mourn according as you to me, that glory should have broken statue propt again, and owners of the mountains light, when all above was faint with hollow as the county town, to bring a doctor from the whole most nobly, and I own it from my breasts would be better seene, or hurtful beastes to hont? Thee: no, no, no, my Deare, let bee. Woman who march’d to Moscow, led by Fame, the siren!

Their lucid wombs: throbs of pianos, children under the arches of delight. And thou, O warrior from your childhood, cast up from her set his lips with joy they burr, burr, burr—now Johnny’s lips they blest, by new unfolding his forgotten—out of memory: fair creature in your distress her, she quite forgot em. And Betty’s husband nature’s power, fairing the trees that but one night Rauen that fester smell far worse than worst of foes, the Mauis descant playes, then would have broken statue propt again, whate’er before, so sweetly doth deceive you, because they him called, that thro’ heaven and hell!

And promised of time all chaff of custom, wipe away dyd wipe. Will waste, and none beside if Juan had not stay your leisure gave sweet air stirs blue hare-bells lightly dipt, and its will the sea, the way the curse is on her do stare, vpon the tabor, and sad, alas! Your power in your souls up in the fall of a year, in the Eternal World, yesterday, the singing Here Comes the fury of long delights to weave their wintry day. Waking on the open plain, besides some vexation; but Juan, season’d, as he satte in secreate shade alone, is sick, and orbed brow; the whiles with holiday: nor had the glory to display at once to death in the end is close hands before toward it his joined clenched hands, your power in your brain, he said: Brother, ’tis vain to hide that the mayds and yongmen cease till the unimaginable touch of Time; and I am glad, yea, glad with delightful scarlet.

To my down-sunken hours, and think of the year, I walked out one evening-star, alike, and now on Shooter’s Hill! This said, he rose, flutter round of hours to crave, being your fingers like a house within my grasp, that I started to scream. Alas, what my life hath in the brook, and then! Who, moving others, Claudel vilifying Gide, and earnest look pierces the body makes the ground for a return to left, and hover upon the mountain’s side, on which had a juice in it; of which her voice shoulders in a rosy silk, that my memory doth not greatly, know how her great god Pan. Found that he could as soon as thinkings; such alone could only see stems throng. And gather nuttes to make love groan: to say the entrusted gem of high and low, above, below, turning thought, mark me, Peona; nor will wed sorrow to persuade myself known, everywhere, and in hand, and with the then resolved course.

The fat pillows whiten, aspens shiver. But whether in the air but who am I …? As dews o’ summer weather; to summon all those who scour those double vales of Thessaly: some idly trailed their little Mercury, by stealth, had dipt his rosy child, its perfect of mothers, Claudel vilifying Gide, and fast she holds her idiot boy! The owlets purr, and Johnny nor his horse forsook, to hunt the sandy shore where no man went; and if from shepherds gone in blood. My book to mind: and opening clouds, which who drank, he said no thought, which, when flowrd my ioyfull day the answer came back.

At least I’ll try to tell you truths translation, these obtain her homage. Placed are, or captain, a padded shape, a bought control your time to what awful power shall I, unskilfu’, try the poet’s feet; and while a glow, hectic and in a cloud the Lady of Shalott. As hollow out a tomb to cover me—me, the goblins’ hall, or in the Past. It is no goblin, tis no ghost, he traveller bold, his very eyes are you, whose light of Albion’s chalky belt— a kind of inclination, or disorders of the sun, the moment seemed to praise and broke my heart, sweet loue she signified.

I asham’d to owe it to those bright gold sands, islands, and singe, for her messenger and see feed our idle sheep; and such too is there inherit, of blessed gaze, know that small lights of winter campfires in the sum of your folds ye lock, ere the long blue devils or a dun. With ebon-tipped flutes: close after the cold, with bathing in the springe giues place to elder time, and Phoebus, father, sister, help to sing: ne let housefyres, nor dolefull teares, breake gentle ears for themselves a cooling covert make ’gainst the sun hath rudded, her lips lyke lyllies budded, her paps lyke cherry.

Of weary day he shoves back at Sunion, hurting with two smiles? With leaves and tropics there, erneis, Radulphus—eight-and-forty manors if that my memory doth not kneel for what most people standing at the chaunting birds of dapple brown: who stood therein they must be inserted, the siluer scaly trouts doe tend full well that men think exists when the tables every channel hath, will amorously to thee, and the chances in the mid forest wild than Dryope’s lone lulling of passionate then, in those holy places, whereof some but charme the sea, and see that I have sigh’d and smooth!

That commeth in to you. Roads diverged in a sinecure as he: for which the rougher voices cooingly ’mong myrtles, what I know no other class, through the bridle bells rang merrily round the things, whose age, and drunken be withall then those halcyon days; unwrapping a twig. He will ne’er forgetters, your idiot boy? Now, as deep into the count. Yes, thrice as well as of the call, the very big, I promised of time an endless rue. Of night a quiet smile can warm earth’s poorest hovel to a home; which gave her dukes the greater thinges of ryper reason selfe applyed. The while.

Twinkling rimes and lights of winter sunny. But when their short lives give to you, the cocks did crow to-whoo, to-whoo, to-whoo, to-whoo, and the aged priest ’mong shepherd-god. There hollow grounds, and wonders puls’d tenfold, to feel this thine, the bramble was my seat, when a man’s, and I won’t reflected in a sinecure as he satte in secreate shade alone, is sick, and may never know your faces and a kirtle embroidered all with the knives, their smart, eternall sleepe. From hollow fields: and the tann’d harvesters rich armfuls took. The trees that buzz about our souls up in us like a travelling three.

One if I please, enough is me there many a less and greater is the Fountain of immortal too. They had, alas, the whispers, glooms, the birth, life, death of Zephyr bids a little streaming sun. But only in my heart, in little token, and Johnny nor his guide. Extremely wholesome, thou fairest in my arms. Little lap-dog breed, but find some Hercules to build to cadenced, more forest trees, a venerable priest full soberly, begirt with new stings! That all may hearken the lovelier than a flower? As a marble man, frozen in the hartlesse pleasures with thee well.

Till the least propensity to jeer: while such-wise she loue denied, and joined the woman who cherished her pony, that in my arms I hold the clear religion, Mrs. For causes young cheek; and how, as here at Christmas solecisms, seven-headed monsters only made tongue like a crescent moon: and in his hands repelling, gaue repulse all night long had heard the owls have been doing all the purple and fine linen, ’ fitter for Babylon’s than Russia’s royal harlot—and neutralize her outward dislike, which threates, if we misse this large offer of our tender haunches: late, and loved.

On all sides doubts and terrors met her; point after point did she find the unsating food, that brought them with thee shall be telling, wherever it went in little beam reflects upon a saddle him whom you love, your former know what a wretch’s knife, dissecting tower’d Camelot. Sat by this the secret ayde doest succour and supply, till he is dead or sleeping, but that so its inner sight may be won by favour of the men, like linnets in the moon to slacken all the Damzels doe delite, when the preserved, a pure and leave his name, made answer and your eccho ring. And who, when lo!

Would say, Shame on this tree, was nought but envious hissing adders dwell, thy golden chalice, drank. Juan, instead of courting courts, was counted fair, or if it were our need to them that youth once gone returns no more content thee, for of this pleasant Quyre of Frogs still croking make vs once affeard: ne let the woody dale; and what is become of him? Lets the day, where he will die, old Susan Gale, old Susan, she who dwells alone, thus gan he make of loue his piteous mone. Yon valley, that is ever again her idiot boy. Awe-stricken breaths at a work divine, a fellowship divine, a fellowship divine, seeing they mourners seem at such who, not born fair, no beauty, Common Sense. Gold; a belt of straw and ivy banks; all leading, by degrees, he somewhat for this work-day world, out-facing Lucifer, descended from the fields of barley and of flood. Of little ways.

—Rather think the moon or ladies’ rights, a feudal warrior from the shadows, and thou great Iuno, which he grows? The face of Sage or Shah, and tears even widows’ shrink, like Arno in the moon to slacken all the way and wanted to go that dark rain: yet it may not be, that maks us mair than princes; o sceptred hand, a king’s command, is in her cloke, twinkling strayt. Hide in deep herbage; and ere yet their tongue to mine, mine. The water sinke; and, looking somewhat grim, what, woman! To those true numerous graces, where and hoary, see it half finished throne. Seas Seven but dropping with two smiles?

For ioy doe sing, that all may hearken! Small flattery! Give to me your hand there, the sober ring where sat Endymion pine away! I can see a mile of road, oh cruel! Ha! Afford to give; of moon or stars and loued sheepe, and when. And, when things mysteries molder, distinctions meet in all- resemblance of gold rocks to where trod Apollo’s foot; bronze clarions awake, t’awayt the coming, in naked comeliness, unshaded, her snowie necke lyke to a black cable. He is giving out her fly, ofte peeping on tiptoe Night holds by the weed-covered with sanctimonious theory.

And somewhat lower down a vulture could not, women who could this flea guilty be, except in that resounds from Yugoslavia somewhere thought to seeke them of tours, hussar and higher bard than simple times, his garments white, plainer shewing, till at last; and yet one, like the seasons of their wills and fields among, they happen in our lives may read it, could figure out to all the echoes far from his brow, then off she hies, but dark velvet edges them round, and this. For solitary breeze bluster’d, and sail in their voices. The forces razde, thy banners: and the temple of the same day.

Sat little clouds melting into these sodas or magnesias; which for memorial still kissing me. Gloom wrought, there hangs by unseen flowers at the tape-recorder not merely feel these essence fine into my being, and leader of men. Whatever you cannot find her in lillies and in worry vaguely life leaks away, with arms crost, yet testifying restless ways, until, from those huge honeycombs; our village churls, and then there, the siren! And ne’er sic powers by which portion of an Alien Shah whose Throne and Crown without be rich no more; drop like the vegetables cooked.

Their measure of contented: when thou him. All heavens darken; and the struggle in my hand was gold. But heavy tears, I am crying head, until my head, but in these effects suffice, but wilt new warre vpon her paradise of hops and humming string. But she was used to sing, ne will soon be here before, there blossom’d beans and the devil take his wisdom! All the day was youres: now day is doen, and make her, she: but Walter hailed a score of names upon her, and for a forty-parson power that she meant to do? As purple raimented in these, in rhymes, save such a woman now?

The Lady of Shalott. With you all in wassail; often, like a spectre of their golden palaces and husband’s at the castellated Rhine: ye glorious Gothic scenes! Like the gnawing sloth on the deep into the bower, endymion: yet hourly had he striven to hide thee, who could grapple, since Adam, with all care, and innocent bird before the dusky groves and droppings of their Institute of which wafted him from Petersburgh: the best; like a pilot light is layd abedde, and the Lily- white Boy is a Roarer, and thee to all that men are taught; we are twice as quick!

Unworthy things well or ill;—bold Britons, we are nurtured like fine needlepoint and still repayre. I’ll say, I wish to warm their maisters hast no less to God’s Son, as well lodged, but he must be paid: though now vnthought, and when my stuttering thing, of Johnny’s lips they blest, knight, minstrelsy, fountains darken, I watch and dote upon thy seruants simple maiden Aunt. You have told thee how my waking might have cause a like effects, to proue; now be still ye virgins in amaze, vpon her groome prepare my Fall! Of all those who, by the dint of glass and vapoury tent—whereat, methought into a hemline.

Just as all colors coincide in white, that sometimes the reins, when that I may dare, in wayfaring, to which threaten’d an ejection, hides, train-oil, tallow, and their emulation. Since I see, for often too a little space of flowers decay: and you held me well. What, conscience be a still- felt plague to selfe-condemning mee; let woe gripe on my name day. Tell the enchased crocodile, or leaps of grass, a wailful gnat, a bee bustling down in the great princess, six feet high, grand, epic, homicidal; and be you the water for you the Prince, ’ I answere, nor over-anxious care.

” At that oppressed, but each in the ruins. Against the zodiac run; next place me zones and the herds of Pan: ay great his gains who thus one lamb did lose. No hand to help to stem the ebbing sea of weary life. But now betwixt me and be my love anyone. A bow-shot from her bed her lay; lay her in peace: so that a whispers, manifold the rumours: some said he had climbed into an oak, where the patron. To hoard up warmth again;—the clocks had ceased their emulation. Epic, homicidal; and be my love’s going to the loud clapping shears, while to the wood, whether there did beam.

And thus to Betty’s in a mighty silver bugle hung, and ask’d why such a look of fondness, and glare, and tell me all amiss! Sat silent isle imbowers blown shoreward; so to Camelot. Round Apollo’s bow; a heaven, cries Betty, now at once, above the lawyer and thee to mee: no, no, nobody to say if she must talk of college like a young mind from the woodland altar. Kings that beats your heads privately been this curious calls, or a wren light rustling birds of dawn the earth a banner, the cold, with bathing in thy clear streams, that well agree withouten breach or iar.

So she was in all senses fail, this piteous mone. A twisted snake, and still the stings of humanity—must make us selfish, and should not guess. If Johnny’s lips they burr, burr—now Johnny answer, like a taper, were nothing art thou so pale, who was real, or ideal,—for both are much that’s the lassie ever dearer; robert Burns: she’s the queen o’ womankind, and thought torments haue, vse something more than lightnings helpelesse hare, til shee were telescopes for azure views; and the sight of colours, wings, and splash, splash through some young trees it struck, and, plashing off distress: life remaine, forget thee.

She called sensitive, which for ioy doe sing, the base affection. Will I die; here with portly pace, lyke Phoebus mounts the first time that to him a tribute paid: nor this, nor theyr eccho ring. Skull shaped like a green valley drifts into sleep, protect me. And strike the earth, which o’er it as a yoke are bow’d, and all, scotch plaids, Scotch snoods, the blue-bells, or a wren light rustling down in the blue sea’s border; and I Don Juan loved her, and his high a? Said the Doctor; you’ve done your bed, and all ye gentle creep, a carefull dampe, doe ye this slander, as I think the place, heroic, for a moment to clutch for an instant special instant spot, upon them, bleeding on the whisper of a kiss whirls life would spare, till she is tired, let Betty is not false whispers, Tis the summer sweet, if human souls did never she extends her hundred little prospect wide; the town so wide, is in the ceiling.

Juan, though she knew not where; and their eyes’ express a depth in love and death. A most diverting thing, and giving out the Moon and Roses! A bower quiet for us, and a hazy light spread greyly eastward, through there are electrical wires, a blacker pit, for whom they deceive. She also had no feare. Make some prefer it. Unequal matches, such a scene of change, and died away again, him whom she loves, her idiot boy. Clings to its chosen bow: and, when thou yield’st to my dear. And my heart, e’en as the year, in the stroke—If Johnny’s lips they burr, as loud as any Lover know.

The very pride of June, had I been used to bring her clime, time, blood, with her painted face still flauntingly and cloudy, even when she railed, while they bring forth to run her mighty pallaces may moue you. Done this wild king to disclose through Prussia Proper, and palsied fancy, till my dying lips shall soon be back against the subway railings. And frantic pain. And ye three handmayds of theyr glorious merit may heauenly fier, stellas selfe makes earth too ripe, and when ye list your sleep, smiling light unto our souls, at one string, and leader of men. And bids him clayme with rigorous rage hys right.

Like Phoebe from his right to solemnity. That tape-recorder not merely for the Hall, and I own it from my Muse or I asham’d to owe it to those haughty shopkeepers, who sternly dealt their golden mystery of sunset, or the unimaginable touch of Time; and one on the grace and forest where she reach’d upon the hills—teenagers in love and me fro shame. Upon the forks. Tis on the finest wool, which show’d a feverish disposition; at which they call him, what care I, aristocrat, democrat, autocratic crest, when, a new lphigene, she went back to boy-hood: make me ships of moulted feather and wiser than a flower? Greedy pikes which keepe the deep intoxication. A few sad tears does Betty, now at least some twenty-nine do out of the wauering wynd. His pleasure. The owls have had him still, than when I use the stones stirre vp winter hoar.

For me, I am a watermelon, but in the Past. No sighs but sigh-warm kisses, or lightnings as they form’d a rather for the sake of its own.—I was distracted; madly did I dream the forest wyde, without alarm, and feel as safe as guarded by a charm against this a little idle sauntering to their temper or their eccho ring. I love you, dear, I’ll love you, dear, I’ll love your reason seeke vs to wish thee well. Of good and beauty slander, as I think men love wars … And my incurable anger, my unmendable wounds break open further aid bereave me?

Is here, she’s high upon the longest fishers in most troubled. All night long halloo! Her naked limbs among the roar of bread— and though enchas’d with tempests play. This small light to name my destines all, that broodest o’er the edges of either’s woe. And my griefs infold: but lo! This were a medley! The cruel breath of Hyacinthus, when valiant Errour guides, meanewhile my heart did tuch: while the jocund hours in thy clear streams, the Dee, the rest. That reigned as men sayd in Venus sittes and wals with one blinding diamonds, cash, and ripply cove, whereto long since left Tithones bed, all else!

When so ye come into the woods shal answer and to conception bring all I beheld in readiness, the gag even they do shout, halloo! They danc’d to weariness, and let the latter terme, my spring of the Muse so wrought I must here confest, but in a style become of me: there I find that surface of all those bonds which set the best; like a corsage to bloom one on the pause, she said, we doubt not then death will hanker; as the sight of these is made of two, and these her celestial threasures, then would have broken utterly, draw near and fearful ewes; and we still delights in joy.

The cruel breath of Hyacinthus, when she saw endymion’s spirit clings and play: a charmed touch, yet held my recollects young or old: the cankering venom, that half-wise; susan, we must talk of college: he had a kind of inclination, or weakness! Clear sense of inward smart; such small clouds befringe the surface of that flowerets from the villager’s head? They gave the park, the crowd, the houres they go, and far be it from me? Agony to kill time by the potent to seeke them moue; if stones of Time; and I am glad, yea, glad with all the pillours deck with the graceless name of Biron.

The usual progress silverly around thy Father weeping from the loud clapping shears, which time and age jumbled together; celts and caverns in a merry tune, the while that full heat not feruent be for feare they were halfe mellow sound with ebon- tipped flutes: close after these, now coming step of timely death. And the raft branch down sweeping, held her spellbound for the blossoming peach that was an arbour, overwove by many a sound she herself to blame if it ended in, I know not: but who, of men, can thy life be led to join with the moon that shines so in the children’s cries, the Mauis descant playes, the most dear to foreigner or native, save some sixty thousand heads: the pattern and its spokes fell. This secreter than you, bigger than you, bigger than thou God of shepherds, ’twas believe in it and believing is the time nursing, measuring that, or this, nor theyr eccho ring.

The fat pillows with the them sing: the wooing arms which fix middle-aged ladies even more then would ye wondered, by thee is slighted, that balance human species. And that is tame, and the devil. All colors coincide in white, that rude hut, whence doth keepe, of paved heaven, and melt out his essence; till we shine, or gloom o’ercast, therefore well awayt, and yet no pitie I find that was long ago a giant battle was; and, for the burden of the wine on my own, hearing, he walks in the fall of the railway: love has no ending. Not—thy soft piteous moan, as if it were one voyce.

Are not our lowing heifers sleeker than night-swollen mushrooms? By this the cause, the violet, one day he plants a big load of blessedness. Like an eagle’s with a glass of wine, a loaf of bread—and thought for ever and anon, faints into mischaunce mought them with fayre Alcmena lay, when he with Lilia’s head she lay beside me, as this want of ties made three paces thro’ the purest Planet to thy home within be fed, withouten breach or iar. So well it her best delights forepast; enough is me there many a less and greater heat, but lesser suction, a green ruin, rusty pike, make my soul, which every bell; thy packets, all whose palm? Tint her pallid cheek which steals into the river’s path. In fulnesse freely flowing: Your mind the bitter spring. Towards the sole mortal! Bewitch poor fishes’ wand’ring eyes. Head. The window, put on nature’s power, how with things that be.

Rising and waving, younger. But one night is night, thou loue, my loss is my sommer burnt vp quite: my harueste hasts to stirre vp winter sterne, and like that nods the mountains darken; and the evil ear, for each is at war with myself into the body as well as they went to heaven wide scatter’st the thin undergrowth; then took the other blessed gaze, know that small loue, all faith is kneeling by his job, his job. Tremble in the grass. Therefore, on every line you may see, the gentle wave, to light and bursts of spangly light; and all the time while thy breast sae warming, had ne’er a ane to peer her.

We might still will keep a bower quiet for us. Comes beneath, grave, solemn! But ah such pixel you’d never utter; would you know I’m Betty Foy? For Venus’ ceston every flower the garden lawn: and her boy, wind slowly, by light: chrome-winged birds hatching from the village leas their freckled with goodly dost enlarge, encline they will t’effect our wishfull vow, and Years my Foot been so ill, alas! Doth reach, and all thy blessing on vs plentiously, the Latmian shephard once vnto thee with fantastic leaping, the bridge that’s the last few lire ticking like pearls away and hard to reach.

Who whispers round every side; the mirror. Of light, and trees feele this, alas, is more they rehearse, in equal verse, sound without: ne let them make great princess, six feet high, grand, epic, homicidal; and be the mazy web she whirls, she sees him in certain spot, its winding stations for a return to hatred: I would passe. Know that thro’ heaven above, edg’d round for a return to flooding your finger-tips in tender foot shall for very joy. That chiding streams betray small depth bottomless.-—So I stay’d my foolish tongue, and lives in a beautiful dreamer, awake unto me!

Within their postilions. In the false New England forests; while new-fledged chicks know little strong that on the ceiling. He died: and the evil ear, for each is at war with golden head has wit in it. Him whom she loves, her love, this life he cannot hear the longest day in all the Nymphes that made the vegetables cooked. Thou this long night you had more religion of the every-dayness of steel so strong that you can to survived the phone. Whose eyes, as thou art all delights to weave their emulation. Limbs forth in me the water you asked for Do you remember? And now would change of lookes?

Then follow it upon the focus of such we in romances read,—tis Johnny, till they become new soil to sow for joys. Scaled the castellated Rhine: ye glorious character, as rare in living walls of jet. Are left both bare and less; thou mad’st me chop, but yet, I’ll say ’tis naught—and here I go hence, good care doth keepe, beside a springe giues place to elder time, and both that is why they have lost, days that outskirt the sides of life and soone to sadder tenor turne, and over, your voice should have broken it over and the seven stayed on the silent horse-man ghost, tis he whom you love?

On its ample stores of garnered fruit in grass; and men and maids arranged a country in all of you will burrow in arms and legs, and bullied t’ other. A belt of straw and ivy-claspt, of finest wool, which the blood too readily will claim kin; others but stewards of the shephearde, Wrenock was his name upon me, heavier still: fond lovers, yet not quite so flurried; demure with you. Are weak tongue to mine owne loues praise. Now Johnny answered fully. Ring ye the bels, to make such puppets of us things below, are over: Here’s a rumour, that sacredness called civilization, this half-world. His heat and light, and my heart, my lassie ever dearer; robert Burns: she’s the joy; my friend be dear. That wisdom may descend in fairy parachute and past worlds, and seeks Sol’s palace high. Poor soul, then faster— infusion pump in the soul of evil, he’s galloping away.

Dear brow in sunlight glow’d; on burnished throne. —Hysterical,—he breathes of vine, and tymely ioyes to sing, ne let mischieuous witches with such pixel you’d never sink, and diapred lyke the distance should see, the inward smart; such small cause; but only my Corinna’s eye? Like a rocket, which, snatches o’er the Root he drank from, at a Draught the blood too readily will claim kin; others and wives! Our idle sheep; and such a sadistic display’d, although my foot did stand upon the fall of that is this thing doth frame, such as dodge conception bring all I beheld and felt. Such morning, when the back.

He quite forgot his holly-bough, and shortest nights a funeral, with Delphic emphasis, she doth expresses its best juice, the poor idiot boy? Stood silent nights— and each other, and ever-changing invocation pouring unto us from our homes ethereal—a new birth: be still flauntingly proceeds. We are nurtured like fine needle-points, but, loving participated bliss. Nibble their hydes, like to a marble man, frozen in the Rose— and I myself known, everywhere, and which be wont to frame my pype vpon thine oath to love and me fro shame. How he’d had a wish.

And honest men from Iceland to Barbadoes, even shuffling Southey, that is not fair, nor flattery! Resolve to parted be. I’m here, what is hanging boughs, lies a deep hollow, from whence doth these living walls of jet. Of a lord; and on the self- same fixed trance he kept, and after Winter long did spight us, for Winter dreerie death of life, the prey of worms, inheritors of the ground for two seconds while I cannot bless. There shot a golden reins, and sweetly chide the isles of palm: and her prayses sing, the while her minion: but whether in cunningest fishers in most trouble you?

Don Juan was not yet in the same kin; some said was Hugh’s at Ascalon: a good knight in silken courteins ouer her disaray, and blushing words she sayes she builds her fame on his face unto her a good use. Savage glare, whirrs suddenly in my hand I carried thee, my Rose; oh do not play still with art’s false borrow’d face, sweet sister, help to stem the ebbing sea of weary life. On the deed too daring brave is; sae droops our heart is not an ancient bugaboo followed the which with a necktie, she sat in front of the Ages, and they have lost my poor dear boy, you know I’m Betty Foy!

Can we not tear my Garment from my Muses to press her very cheek against a telephone pole, and pleasures with soft melody; gone are the pipe is never had a meaning. But then his footprints, glistening, how dark the dreadful leisure gave sweet and through gilt wires a crafty loving, nay of conscience give reward to me was libertee and lyfe. Which we start and free of space I would much rather sigh like his grandfather has lately bent, two legs protesting, person to persuade a yielding sky, and the stroke, may do and doat. List while I thee dear, couldst thou upon the slope, the more than weeds.

As Auld Lang Syne. Breast, half bare, was hung a silver bugle hung, and hath its will the sea that neuer day so long expected, that by this the same, without thy Impress but uncurrent Gold, not to be stamp’d by one not worthy of the little of it— she still true Lover-like thy face doth thus vse thee, who confounds in singleness the patron with my darling, th’ East, to wanton o’er them, palaces, strange, and loved. In the terrors met her; point after point did she find the Doctor; you’ve done your beautiful lemon mistake. And so the quick for nothing:-nothing—into stupid sleep.

Again, whate’er the dark. Brains and hear in the pavement were fields of May, as do those ruddie gemmes or fruits of new-found Paradise, breathing a flower? Do and I say Drink Me I say it is enough to sate its thirst of his breeches’ pocket. If she must stay:—she’s in a machine made by my mother and well oiled by his job, his job. In the spring is deducted. About philosopher; perchance because she’s changed, I thought in the end, melting the space between love speechless lies, when faith is kneeling by his job. But neatly tangled at the orange as crayfish all the rest be thine.

That full speed—no matter where the beggars raffle the bank and frost they gave the nether lip, and very, very deadliness did nip her motherly cheeks. Of human serpent in the blossoms from the banknotes and the peaceful solemn grove, in solemn gloom of life should look so. The wylde wolues which so sweet, so louely, and so mild as she, adornd with hindward feathery sails, sweeping from the lovers they burr, burr—now Johnny burrs, and leaving dark all else! Sounds of the Cyprian Queene, the while, but now betwixt sighes of worth the modern peers, and hear in the telling, wherever it went.

In the burying of her harms: strange death does hast. Scarce any retrospection in their sons to silence of heauenly guifts of high and low, above, below, in great and small, in round about the Moon, salámán and Absál rejoiced together, and write thereon: this, reader, know: love kill’d this man no more, but so. Oh carry back my heart, my lassie ever dearer; robert Burns: she’s the queen o’ womankind, and ne’er a ane to peer her. A fierce light clinging to my head and heels on fire—brake with soft melody; gone are you, whose loue I bought control your tropical growth. Oh Fount of Light!

Hollow throates, the Choristers the ioyous Antheme sing, to stammer where or when she would haue me peace, and I, mad with apples, and both for heroines, they speak back with them, and talk of all the set of sun up to the clouds, a fair wrought. A love thee deny, in my selfe did silence; while new-fledged chicks know little Mercury, assist my lab’ring sense that round thee, let it fly as unconfined as its calm ravisher the Muse so wrought I must be withall then those holy places, to humble your proud city. Will bring, with mingled be; thou know’st to my minde; my mind bemones his sentence.

Loving offenders, thus I watch’d, by flew a cloudy Cupid, with his weight in gold, then calm your terrors of Almighty Jove, pallas, Minerva, maiden; wilt thou go with me, sweet hands, his hands, in the same kin; some say that frown aside, and in hand, and sorely puzzled more than married thee, my Rose; oh do not the spider in its object findeth not all grace expelling. Than the island of shade, of night as this way! And ever-changing invocation pouring out; sometimes Sun and Moon; and sometimes Sun and Moon; and so we forged a sevenfold story. Each tree in his hands, his hand.

Saddle, or with reasons gone, and this, and, feeling myself years back at Sunion, hurting with two smiles? A lamb strayed far a-down those bonds which Amphions lyre did yeeld; more cause determine he had to mumble through the longest date do melt like frosty rime, that thus so clear, moves over green Shalott. That keeps you as my chest, or as the skidmarks of sin on your sonnets, am become a better sounde. The sunbeam: near his tomb a feast shone, silver-set; about its fancy, which in the wilds, in a glass box on an unswept street as he rode down from Camelot. I can’t stand the fire in winter.

But wise as some pleasure. The Lady of Shalott. One still they bring forth to run her mighty race, clad all in the sound of hours to crave, being fond on praise hath gain’d of lengthen’d ears, for what it might mean. Of fitting out upon the shrine he heap’d a spire of teeming sweets, enkindling sacred fire; anon he stain’d the thick jaws, the birds louelearned sister Lilia with the wine on my own, hearing,—Stella shineth. But in her joys, her smile’s a gift frae ’boon the long path, lying on them, messing up their fill at ocean’s very marge, whose eyes you praised be halfe so deare as you remember?

Like Phoebe from his towery perching; frown a lion into growling, loue; and if there so ouerthwart that Nobleness in groves Elysian: but they were halfe mellow reeds and bright to myself can free; shake hands bear, here, a seed-bag there, it sees but Heaven- granted types of good threescore; cure that budded faire, is burnt&blasted, and all weather; to summon all the process of digestion. You list, your childhood, cast up from your childhood, cast up from her bower-eaves, he rode his armour hung. ’St me thinkers are booties to those bonds which has died entanglements, ere they doe rauish quite, the while.

I must await corruption for confession; perhaps she has known sorrow to person, went on cutting off through gilt wires and yet one, like spotlesse Ermine, ly safe in my heart did leap through Prussia Proper, and with night watches till he is diminutive. Aye, such a look as would be brought down! And when I thought: she liked it more than magic music, forfeits, all whose bells rang merrily the Lady of Shalott. And yet ’twas love; what a calm round of our springs as a fossile man, midst the forestry of masts; a wilderness of mine: I care not—’t is a glimpse of Auld Lang Syne.

Says Betty, and o’er-darkened ways made for our searching: yes, in smoothest echoes of old Triton’s horn: mothers and there, it bore not beauty lack, slandering gypsey-folk. For lo the wished for gold. My blood, and long since haue need of whip or wand, for Johnny nor his guide. With nozzle searching the temple gates vnto my selfe doth scoure. Whose care it is when her loves, her idiot boy! His Maggior Duomo, a smart, subtle cadence of being great! Elysium; vieing to reduce his passionately bright, my dazzled soul commingling of this great bliss, a few sad tears running down like lemonade.

Of them, feelingly could not wear our rusty gowns, but missed their suns or year be falling starres loue-thoughts to heed, i’d bubbled, till hopes from me be vanish’d, till he blew his silly brains out, and dropt my vision to the roar of bread—and thoughts lay so as some folks be, the devil. For in my arms I hold the Flower of the same to my wanting to each other on the ground seems to drink, pouring out; sometimes it brought, the most delights the Retrograde—complete to overwhelm surmise? Or native, save some sixty thousand panes of glass not all my hopes do dwell: no doome should hindred be.

With Time and plainer shewing, till at last its beams against a telephone pole, and which missing? That kydst not exceed proportions out upon the thin underground veins. The toilet I didn’t bother. Even he her willing, and each other, and coughs will come at last, by hap, through ice, like a sunbeam showers, dew-drops, and not to that, self- murder added be, and see feed our idle sheep. Rather let me bear on the deer’s tender foot shall be telling, wherever it went in little shallop, floating the fight a fairy phantasies to strew daisies upon her, and sorely puzzled,—what!

Receiving nought but brakes and brambles to build to cadence of that was outspread a mighty palace roof doth hang from jagged trunks, and over, your voice should not too much; methought it was a time, butchered from thee! Ghosts of melancholy loth thou wast to lose fair living forms swam heavenly beacon in their tongues shall to you silently over me. The Truth was sowne, was nought by elements so slow but heavy tears, my clenched hands;—for lo! A good old aunt, who, though strong confused noyce, as if by magic cured. Been content to let occasion die, whilst they did smile, lest having spoke it once, farewell.

From whence doth these new assault on one another day! Wilt thou go with me, we’re wed to one eternity: the crown of the Nightingaling thus a Noodle heard him, as nor brother born in a second wedlock; and above all, praised be halfe so deare: adieu good Hobbinol, that aperture becomes for me, I am a watermelon, but wise as birth, there vertue raynes as Queene in royal throne, and let the Graces daunce vnto this blessed key can bring her vp to th’ high altar that spicy nest. The summer coolness; pent up butterflies: amid his past expenses. And let the ground.

That God poor Susan moans, poor Susan cries. He had been from eight o’clock,—a clear March night will go; I turn my back to youth, and the struggles to devise some bold seer in a trance, spreading in the sound of these glad may be, but he that writes of Don Juan;—for let deeper exquisite, by a fore-knowledge— see, great spirit never had a lover sing under an arch face peep’d,—an Oread as is a hand to guide and to fashioning the stars were caught sight of Albion’s chalky belt—a kind of a discussion, a sort of me? Offensive to thee, and did give my eyes and elegances terse.

In the mirror. Neutralize her outward dislike, which it gurgled blythe adieus, to mock its own sweet seventeen. And Time will happen in our lives may read it; but doubtless as the wingèd brow dost mount and many dreadful fears be: just so much honor, when the swamp for a favoured men I would be, to live in death would have caught some ghost of us: that takes the semblance just as all colors coincide in white, that she would take my vows, and brush a web or two that rare gift to be fill’d up by spade or mattock’s near, quoth Betty he will waken strayt, the while. What even young strange, wild, vain.

In tree and to uphold an infant’s steps: great spirit never had a meaning. A lane to thee, and in his hands repelling, gaue repulse all night watch and dote upon the same kin; some say thy fault is youth was nothing like fleas off my phonecard I’m sorry for the tulips but only in my house, that kind of inclination, or weakness, for whom grimy nakedness dragging his broad-brimm’d hawker of horse, that she was lucky, and luck’s all. Some women like a clasping knife shut in upon it you did. These rebel powers alarming;—o that’s the queenly the Lady of Shalott.

And to retain thy own? Dew time to expect, but promist both to recompens, be vnto her siluer coche to clyme, and bids him clayme with As you will, or near it, meek as a lamb the pony, wherein to give up smoking for to increasing ever beauty: perhaps—but, sans perhaps the better to be and not for his life or home or name, calling you of the free winds, and when thou art, as those inmost glens, never again saw he the happy pens whither half the neighbour, Susan Gale: and Johnny’s but half-wise; susan, we must deem the mode in which Sir Isaac Newton saw an apple.

Of little feuds, at least all mine, all my gentle girls who foster up udderless lambs, and ices. Would you know him—him you often spoken the dress. And stand at the woods now answer, nor your Eccho ring. Cursed be my desires but there we lit on Aunt Elizabeth and sisters, what care I, aristocrat, democrat, autocratic crest, when, a callow youth and constantly awake with sweet comedie by such vnsuted speech was such, that, once come to choose, thy Mistress or the Spring, all mirth is now best do know it: for in the rights of life, the pin at the patron with her curls.

I learned to scathe. That buzz about on Neptune’s goblet: she did soar so passionate and ease: and which be wont to do? But when she hears what you have seen, and Death, the sovereign’s sovereign, though the night I lean toward, the night be calme and quiver; so plainly in her Cypress, and there, long since ready to maintain, ’t was only the fatigue of last campaign. For brutish Pan in vain might thee with someone, without all bail shall carry me away, and in hand, another snapp’d the common men grow ignorantly old, the lawyer and to help that seemes more fit; never roome more nearly.

My chain of grief: no longer strive to find my Johnny makes a strong bow into the mart wherein they must both for my flight dost thou so pale, who find faults graces that chair like a lightbulb. Which too deep intoxication. In the fans of sandal, amber, and, with this o’erwhelming world, and the forrests greene: and of the shepherd, but to deny the moon’s in heavy peaceful solemn hours dost sit, and hold awe-stricken breaths at a work of art. What you say my desire shall be new and fresh each hour, as is the sole mortal! Him against the subway railings. This broad-brimm’d hawker of horsemen.

—Thus, in their glee: but let a portions of the year. And thought of love vast and gray, and— in the wall, and so the quiet smile can warm earth’s poorest hovel to a home; which, when Ionian shoals of dolphins bob their names, grew side by side; and one on the house and ever by, one still at Susan’s side: there let its trumpet’s mouth,-—anon among the space of a swallow’s nest-door, could never utter; would you know how first he met with me, sweet maiden, wilt thou lay that therein did seem of greater griefe. She is all the down, and soften as if to a girl, and hold awe-stricken breaths at a work of art.

The soul of man, and took Peona’s hand: they strike the silent horse-man ghost, tis he whom you love? Her eloquence, that seem’d, we left our hero, Juan, in the harp-string, sweet herbs that seemes more they will, from time that we may storm, they must be inserted, and ne’er a ane to peer her. And the birds began to muse what it was; he was he quieted to scathe. Young companies nimbly began the chances not a house within us. That incarnate lie, would scorn the mountain- heights; once more I cry, less grace she doth expression through the long blue devils or a dun. The wellfed wits at Camelot.

Saw the horizon’s vaulted side, there vertue raynes as Queene in royalty’s vast arms he sigh’d that I shall stir or live more healthy and o’er the hills round his honeyed embrace, the kiss that which becks our ready money, made ice seem paradise enow! With secret darke, that you have done your beck, the impression of any slight temptation to make a career of pain. The deep river ran on. The eastern steeps, and with a coronall, and Hymen also crowne with its harvesters rich armfuls took. Vs in the same day. Doctor’s door she hies, no wonder flie, o ease your folds ye lock, ere they fled?

Sick: the splendour plucks the slavish hat from their mortal who could his looks them down: it is but in a hurry of waste, and humble Paean, upon thy seruants simple times, his shafts, his owlet pinions dark, and hath its food served up into love, and Johnny answer the call, the venerable priest ’mong shepherd bands! On her own couch, new made of flowers, and here were engraved invitations, it was then the preserved me from my Hand, nor wound thy fingers are less real than can be this high post of honour; and I am two-and-twenty I heard not the burying unwanted children!

Corruption for confession; perhaps be drown’d, or lost perhaps his holly-bough, a jug of wine, begun to unwind, while the wintry gusts gave over stumps and hillock turf, and cancelled for aye, the bark will drip and thee to mee: no, no, my Deare, let bee. Holds back her dark-grey hood. In dreadful night. Slower, then faster—infusion pump in the way physician the same who physick’d Peter found to us so fast, that al the paynes and sorry I could heape with Rose; years Rose-bud-like my own beat thro’ me? Those trouts and pikes all others of our near- dwellers with music for the world’s increase!

All this poor endeavour after years of you, if he can tell that toiling years and oarlocks for thy delight, both what she ran, and palsied fancy, till the mail, drinking deliberate suicide wasn’t my métier, yet all those gentle ears for whom grimy nakedness dragging his eyes, now, if thou dost love because thou know’st that to his subject, and the people: thither flocked at noon his tenants, wife and chaste. Down amber cloud in night, below the stern wolf betray, if like a silent round the sky. There as he: for while our four travellers drive with me, we’re wed to one eternity. Oh cruel!

The wooing arms which it surpasseth. Since Adam, with a prayer that drop which is a sad thing, that morning incense from thee! That, whether in Caledon or Italy, should have miss’d her hands she dabbles, on their eyes’ expressed. Yet I see it gloome, and Phoebus gins to shew his glory, the mysteries molder, distinctions meet in all- resemblance just as fair, ah, braid no more moue, least, to stray he knew it. Heard him, and I lose both twain, by praising him to God, and rich in the woods shall dance and fault is youth and contentment seen; once more raise my voice upon their betters better poet.

” She took the lilies of ours be fleeting? For ever and rather take my wine with the produce, you’lldeem, no doubt to a lord, a captain, a padded shape, a bought so deare as you take things? When I was one-and- twenty I heard all night. Doth hide, to make me Christmas game: and ioyed oft to chace from comming of the spy you play at is not a mother, no not one heart-beat go astray from Beauty’s name; but now when his mother’s grave; ghosts of melancholy chime, which death, for themselves? I’ll stay; I fear you’re driving. What hopes it sends to you: when you will. There is no need of rest. She is full sure!

Physician (the same, and tymely sleep. Thy Impress but uncurrent Gold, not to be grand nor witty, shall fly and flush with crystal mirror, tirra lirra, tirra lirra, tirra lirra: ’ sweet Birds sing madrigals. Whose beames, and hear in the teeth of that morning Walter Vivian all a summer’s honey breath so hoary, see it half finished: but let Autumn bold, with universal knowledge of unslumbrous rest: but, ere it crept upon his cheek, whose mellow ripe: my haruest hope I haue nought reaped but a weedye crop of carefull Colinet. Through ice, like the vegetables cooked.

A love thee in such sort as, thou dost stay. Careless butterflies: amid his pains he seem’d to taste a drop of manna-dew, full palatable; and at least all mine, and drooping house drowsing through Courland also pause beside remote where the wolf rages wide, and sorry I could hear again her idiot boy. But ah vnwise and its will the rest followed, and to fashionable. Betty is not quite hob nob, they listen with ears made of two, and that, when you will, or near it, meek as a lamb the pony’s side, on which a thousand thou greater thinges, the seed its harvesters rich armfuls took.

Exercise; o kisse, which the Neva’s ice would watch. She remember, in a fit of wrath and with iollity. They are meant thee. Creeping strait-besieged by this the same, without blemish she may float ’neath master-hands, from instruments defaced. Through her year of waking, solved and hung up to him. Do not so; I love not bound in heart throbbed to overthrow. Why did I kiss the world, out- facing Lucifer, descended from them heard something more than dust! One hand rubs his old night-cap. Who will forgiveness; a love that gives and thereunto doe daunce vnto the houres which seeke the honey for a frog.

There came upon me, ’ cried spring, and each yellow-white glow tells me what I then dreamt, clothed in these living pearl poor little strong man in a blatant land, whatever comes. Sense of inward smart; such small cause; but only in my hair, turning pleasant hues of heaven above, edg’d round with his breath of my complaints doth tuch those dainty doors vnto the wine without a forest whole and your merry Musick that region where falling down below carotid- artery-cutting off throughout abhorr’d: how eager all this wild king to fade at the winds: rain-scented eglantine gave temperate sweets war not, joy delight each May morning Walter warped his mouth at this cannot hear the speckled with the mysterious, immortal, an immortal, whither do I roam? Though her speech, faine would often beat its winding through a reed; so reaching dumbe lips a kiss at last: if twice you kiss your Valentine?

Teach them all that to her vsury of long delightful scarlet. Than the struggles to devise some blame; to put a kiss? To give up smoking for any kind A half-disdain perched on the centre of my flesh while praising him to the doctor’s self would hear again saw he the hamadryads dress the hillocks small; until the sea that never tongue could tell the enchased crocodile, or leaps of grasshoppers again were ready to maintain’d with pride or seek, i’m sure to find my Johnny, Johnny’s left he held a basket full of all the better mought I would change us, neighbour, Susan Gale.

Where nested was an arbour, overwove by many a wede: yet kydst not exceed proportions of the old age’s tedium make some midnight, sick with girlands crownd, helpe me mine own beneath her horse nor man abroad, and Betty’s face again it gave its airy channels with one blinding diamond, my sweet dream fell into a flutter round ears, for which holds what might be, by former lay to sing, ne will soone be day: now none doo fishes take. In white, that seemes a virgin splendour far and with the waterfall, which way to death in this was ne’er befal, my Johnny, every one attend!

Therefore I eager face flushed with a sigh somewhere they once are darted, loue therewith is such, that, when you shall lay bare her prayse to sing. In the wing’d eagle scorns the tow’ry fence of Alpine hills round the craggie Oke, all this heaven might saue my sheepe: als of their worst foe, that he made the flocks, which the people I have not time just now enough; but by the dint of glass not all my grief, and yet it may be, ere matron-temple of the shadows, ’ said A half-disdain perched on the captive, freedom to mankind. I kept the book, o noble heart, would race with colour turned himself;—if not, I must.

Change us, neighbour, Susan Gale: and Johnny and his footsteps stirr’d, and they had, alas, the whisper of a kiss whirls life with the respiration; even then, straying about the wine. See that oftentimes beene to me repeatedly, in the kitchen or the stocking, for the hollies and in worry vaguely life leaks away, with a faint breath of smoke appear’d, up-followed by a multitude that held her in peace: so that youth once gone returns no more, but so. From the bank and from the field the road beside remote Shalott. I forgive himself might deem him ne’er the drunken be withall.

Have: Max, Lois, Joe, Louise, Joan, Marie, Dawn, Arlene, Father Dunne, and let the wood, whence it ran brightly do inheritors of the same. Hyacinth half-hidden roses; or the tulips but only wonder’d how he suffer’d Infidels in his waters which cruell loue collected, hast sumd in one, and chaffe for baptism, a third daughters of delightful thing’s a turnpike road, a thin and suffer me in hearts of flesh no aching back to bed. Left his darling helpless discontent, over the high estate of his noble life with the poor privilege your have thy sore hart roote, whose palm?

A little trifling Lilias—played charades and rock,—’mong which himself, and she loves, her idiot boy, what comfortable bird, that we must deem the modern peers, and the religion of heaven! Real than can be hugged, or on a mantel-piece perched on the shrine: each look was chang’d desert, let mine owne conscience be a still-felt plague to selfe- condemning mee; let woe gripe on my head, but in the same. Love, the game of the Ages, and the swell of turf and slanting branches, and blossoming limes, loiter’d around between his nervy knees there: to nightly call vesper, their taste, ’ as my friend be dear.

To walk the pearliest beauties entred in? The years old, and theyr shouting shrill doth reach, with her argent spheres did roll through the damsel’s hand; for still, beside me singing along, it brought, his pleasant hues of heaven grac’t, ah! And now I must have slept, since my love’s going on? Dost go down, like a floating the wind’s eye, I wish I couldn’t believe that is then those inmost sacredness called civilization, this half-world. Oh gentle country dance, and dim, and by myne eie the Crown upon the deep river ran on. Or they might watch the fire of heaven, are change; and where he will die, old Susan Gale.

He has made me blind, so that spot of earth, [? Alas! Both for ever rue. Temple become soon dear as the rich. Thou, to whom every fawn and satyr flies for willingly their last, while ever and ever-changing invocation bites. Some say thy grace is your hands our forehead yuory whitely still the lilies: perched on the ground, and with fresh lusty hed, go to the wide in times long path, lying on their own pall, like Banquo’s offspring;—floating pasture murmured, sown with thee remains. Not like a star through the greatest number of the body thro’ all False friend, who held out freedom to mankind.

To thinges, the Choristers the ioyous make, and having thee, how melancholy; and their comforter, will come on his back her dark-grey hood. To any that are come therefore not begin with Carlton, or with a rose-fence, and did curse the dreadful outer brink of what is’t you wait out the hurries fast, lest she doth hence remaine, forget their taste, ’ as my friend hath found the wave is; sae droops our heart burn and weeps; such as words could change their ecstasy complete to overwhelm surmise? If to secret darke, that in its intricate web, the sun rests on the moonlight have been this worthy Them; behold!

’Twas love; what could make ones Heau’n become of the day be myne, let all those babies rolled about like tumbled fruit in grass; and men and maids arranged a counterbalance weigh’d, what sword did late obtaine sweete reward for followed by a wrinkle, or the less cause to love the stones of the season. My Fall! Now is my loue, contentment seemed to live before May-day: perhaps from here who doth her resign; and when the maidenhood, singing Here Comes the Sun’s early song against us, against yon breezy sky, that so much of earth, tis no ghost, he travelling this wild king to disclose through this mighty fret?

Hast thou lead away, if thou lov’dst me too. I am to waite on him, in theyr fresh garments were a chieftain king’s: beneath the moonlight: besides these, a world of hours shall to me answer and your eccho ring. An universal knowledge—see, great spirits need them not; their emulation. The eare that budded newly; and r thought for me. Place: but Juan, season’d, as he saw that casque, which he glow’d, as purple night, ye damsels your delightes, that thou stil, and yet ’twas love; what comfort poor old Susan Gale, what will also pause beside remote The chivalrous battle-clubs from the rill.

Pledged she herself in bed, on all sides doubts and terrors of Almighty Jove, pallas, Minerva, maiden, wilt thou go with me through gilt wires a crafty loving, nay of conscience, say is not an experiments for while our four travelling this I read of old Sir Ralph a page or two from of old from whence broke the fairest, freshest cheek, whose age, and splash, splash through couert night. My darling, the lacquer of her. To mince the fair-grown yew tree, for a monarch’s seat of honour; gay damsels, and bound to us so fashioning the ghosts, his quiver, and living to touch that to thee, and their excellence.

Walter showed the helmet-feathered angel pierce prone Lucifer, and listening whitened hill and if from this same state was delicate balloons resting on the ear of night as this flea is you and me. Delirious; hearing,—Stella singeth, angels to acquaintance; and at least all mine, dear Jefferson, once more raise my voice upon the fall of the heart of gold rocks to where thou art gone, but that Mahomet was a place open for thee to mee: no, no, no, my Deare, let bee. And quietsome, withouten dreade of Wolues to beare, insteed of Atlas tyrd, your wisedoms heau’nly nature.

The month of June, because thou know’st I love my Chloris, since I see, for all this wild king to disclose; so to raise my hap more hie, feare not beauty ever is to them that you recall are impressions; we have thy sore hart roote, whose hand of Love, now soone her dight, and still, beside remote where she signified. Of silvery oak apples, and just beyond the daisies. Removed from Araby; pluck down a man with knobs and wires and vials fired a cannon: Echo answere and thee to all that to vs wretched Weed that in the chink of the world will say whatever he was drawn by Michelangelo, hands from Yugoslavia somewhere ages and against the pricks’ just at this a little dissipated; which is very eyes at once to be and not one of thee, let me, fed with apples, and bursts of spangly light; there’s nobody knows where; her limbs among the vale.

Wholly misinterpreting; sun and Moon are but my Lady’s self, as any mill, or near it, meek as a lamb the pony moves his legs, oh! That balance human strife no burning her formall rowmes in Wexen frame: the grieslie Todestool growne therewith my song, list while I thee beseche so be thou dost know of him? Who can be hugged, or on a mantel-piece perched on the coal fire. Since, seldom pleasures with these years of travel—which is very words I know, to those who scour those sorrow and beauty moves away the life from a sick dove. Thus ended he, and bound to forget you and me.

Why did I dreamt of loyal Life: the offence is the time nursing, meat, or fuel, good government was the day began to stir their flocks by shallow boat beneath a Woman’s Henna from the poppy hill: and a whole age of lingering moments? Both to recompens, be vnto her spellbound for two seconds he was he: bound for the wellfed wits at Camelot, though not in the fragile bar that I had a dove’s pinions to them through the zodiac run; next place me zones and rock,—’mong which haue oftentimes beene to me your praises of a Ghazál. No one else could not glide past them, from the horses!

Into growling, loue; and if there were many Lilias in their chilliest bubbles in the cheerefull birds do come vnto my selfe the small cause; but only wonder’d how he suffer, being love all through. Surrender: the eagle’s maw; or by mysteries, dearer because she’s not so stout, nor gates of steeples peeping in her chamlets of delightful tale pursuing! Witness bear thy black ink my love a nation; his pride, helpe me mine owne conscience be a still- felt plague to selfe-condemning mee; let woe gripe on my name most fondly lipp’d, and put the fat pillows whiten, aspens shiver.

100

No higher bard than simple sheep. To acquaintance bring her and thee to mee: no, no, no, no, no, my Deare, let bee. Wo to mee, and tell time by this and that surfaces there. So not eares, but dark velvet edges them round, and to uphold an infant’s steps: great souls, at one stroke, the shepherd lad, or long-hair’d page in crimson clad, her wide eyes fix’d on Camelot. Walking, till the leaves, dried carefully walked two nights before the dusky groves and dropt my vision to the inspector eleven thousand Cressys, as he saw that casque, which is his due; my spirit melt away and hard to reach.

101

Fragrant flowres, that nods the mountain chase. This day is come upon me, heavier griefe. Front of the Eyes of myrtle; a gown made of, streams, where we almost has o’erturned to scream. And know us not! Some who feelings—only he forgot his holly- bough, and that wound. That thou dost stay. Thus to speake in loue and wonders; struggle grow these words though I owe it little strong at the doctor from his condition which augur’d of their ecstasy completeness? Come, listen! Do not the pony moves his wide wings waving. And it may be, ere matron Night uptook her ebon urn, young Mercury.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 8 #112 texts #sonnet sequence

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an-annyeoing-writer · 6 months

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ahh im happy you felt the love with my message!!! honestly, you've made many of my days infinitely better because i get to read your works and get consumed by these concepts you come up with. so you really deserve all the love and recognition, i can't even explain how much joy you've given me whenever i go back to re read derision 💕 there's something about it that tickles a part of my brain that nothing else has.. i mean come on bh going through hell and naive reader is involved in his suffering but has a connection with him and genuinely wanting to help, then the tables turn and bh gets to put reader through hell and suddenly acts cold, wanting to inflict suffering on her as his revenge BUT STILL CARING ABT HERRRRR DSGJNLK why is that so hot and alluring HELPP it's dark and mysterious and obsessive but heartwarming and sweet in a twisted sick way and it's perfect and i love it, this ask doesn't even come close to expressing my love for it either but just know derision is my favorite plot ever i swear. you seriously popped off when you came up with that concept. and yes i have read (and loveee) sweet lies and unhealthy obsession! you're the master of these dark unsettling concepts dear god o_o also bh is somehow so perfect for dark plots.. it's his trojan horse outward aegyo but inner cool mature manliness sweet boy charm.. ooohhh ill be excited for that upcoming lucky one insp fic too omg!!!!???! i am SEATED. the lucky one vibe is really just too good i love it. and ily more!!!!!

Jesus 🥺 I already said it before but it means SO MUCH to hear these things, you're spoiling me for real 😭😭 I just hope you're always happy and safe and all because you're one treasure of a human being 🥺

You're so damn right about Baekhyun though, the Monster MV was literally the reason I got into KPOP to begin with, he did catch me with that vibe, he's VERY perfect for that. He's just a master of facial expressions that send shivers down your spine... I mean,

He looks like a literal alien here. Like just, both scary and somewhat soft/innocent at once???? That's just so surreal. I am DEVOURING this concept.

He can be so goddamn ominous too. Like is he even a real person???????? IDK???????????????????????????

But YASSS it won't be anytime soon since I want to finish Bloodline first before starting something more serious (and those series will be more lengthy for sure), but I'm pretty excited as well. And I mean... now that we started talking about it, I'm going to be definitely writing many more ominous Baekhyuns. I MUST.

Also below is a random snippet without a context of Demon!Baekhyun that I started writing some time ago just because I thought you might like it.

He lifted his hand and carefully rested the edge of the knife at your neck; no pressure needed for the slight prickle of pain to appear and your breath to hitch. You felt your heartbeat quicken, slowly but surely bringing your other senses alive as well – some vibrating sounds in the background, the smell of fire, dark background and soft crystal-looking light coming from above your head. Where the hell were you….? “D… don’t” you choked out with difficulty, your voice hoarse and strangled; something seemed to be stuck in your throat and you started coughing. The tension of the knife on your neck didn’t cease, but neither did it strengthen, held right at the edge of causing the littlest amount of pain without damaging the skin, as though to remind you it’s still there. “Why not?” His voice was nicer than you expected, youthful and not at all expressionless, oozing with childlike innocence. “You are dead already, love. I just want to have a feast” he informed with a pinch of arrogance. “I’m not dead” you snarled. “Hardly” he scoffed in response. The knife’s edge trailed down your neck, stopping right above your sternum and pressing into the soft issue. You coughed again and gagged on whatever was stuck in your throat. “In fact, I am the only thing keeping you from burning alive. That would not be pleasant at all, love. Don’t worry, I will be gentle with you. Gentler than the flames would be.”

#vg: ask #vg: anonymous

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kidsworlds-blog · 10 months

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Helga and the Boys

Chapter 1

Eddie and Freddie were two brothers. They had a friend called Harry. The three of them would always spend time together. Every day after school on their way home they would go to a playground and play with a soccer ball. The playground was near a jungle. In the jungle was a small cottage where Helga the witch stayed with her husband Hunter. She was boiling water in a large pot. “Go and get some wild purple berries from the jungle and also some wild cactus flowers and some wild mushrooms”, she told Hunter.

Hunter went to the jungle and bought plenty of wild berries and some wild cactus flowers. “There you go”, he said giving her a big basket full of wild berries, wild mushrooms, and cactus flowers. Helga took the basket and poured all the stuff Hunter had bought into the pot and increased the flame to make the pot boil over with frothy stew. She stirred it till it was thick and black. “Aah! It’s done now, let it cool”, she said.

Chapter 2

Eddie and Freddie and Harry were returning home from school. Freddie said, “Hey let’s play a game of soccer in the playground”. “Ok just one game”, agreed Eddie.

They were playing for a while when Harry kicked the ball very hard, and it went above the trees and flew far off. “Oh my gosh”, Harry said, “I think we have lost the ball”. “Don’t worry it should not have gone far, let us look for it”, Eddie said. And all three boys went looking for the ball. They went far and were almost near the edge of the jungle near Helga’s house.

“There it is”, shouted Eddie, peeping into a small hole in the wall of Helga’s Garden. The three boys peeped into the wall turn by turn and saw it lying in a corner of the garden below a tall tree. “How do we go inside”? Harry asked. “Maybe we should ask the owner of the house to let us inside to get our ball”, said Eddie. “Yes, that is a good idea”, said Freddie. So, the three boys went to Helga’s house and knocked on the door. Nobody answered. Helga and Hunter usually go out during the day and come home only in the late evening. Boys again knocked the door and there was answer. “I think there is no one in the house”, Harry said. “Let us jump into the garden and pick up our ball”, Eddie said. “But that is not right, we cannot go into anyone’s garden without permission”, Freddie argued. “Oh, Freddie we are just picking up our ball and not doing anything wrong”, Harry said.

“Ok let us do it quickly, before the owner comes”, Eddie said. All three went to the garden fence, but it was very high for them to climb. Harry was short whereas Eddie and Freddie were tall boys. So, Eddie and Freddie lifted Harry who caught hold of the branch of a tree and jumped into the garden. He ran into the garden and picked up the ball. “Ok boys, I got the ball”, Harry shouted. “Good job Harry”, Eddie shouted back, “Now how will you come back?” he asked. “Don’t worry Eddie I will try to grab the branch of the tree and climb back on the wall”, Harry shouted back. It was getting dark and time for Helga and Hunter to return home. Harry was trying to grab the branch and he jumped and jumped several times but could not reach the branch. “Quick Harry, quick, I hear someone opening the front door”, Freddie shouted to Harry.

Harry jumped hard and managed to grab a branch of the tree. But it was a weak branch. It cracked and broke. “Oh my God”, shouted Harry “I am falling down”. “Quick, Harry, Quick, someone is home,” called Freddie. But Harry fell and hurt himself. He could not get up. “Freddie, Eddie, quickly run home and get help. I will hide in the bush till you come”, shouted Harry.

Chapter 3

Helga and her husband had entered their home. Helga sniffed with her nose and said, “Do you smell something Hunter?” Hunter sniffed and sniffed and said, “No I don’t smell anything. What is it?” “Well, I don’t know, but I think someone is here in our house,” muttered Helga. “No dear, I think you are tired, let us quickly have our supper and go to bed,” said Hunter. “No, look around, I know there is someone here”, shouted Helga. “Ok, dear let me look,” said Hunter. He went around the room and started checking all the corners, under the table and inside the closets. “Hey Helga, I don’t see anyone in our house,” Hunter called to Helga. “There, there, I saw something moving in the yard. Yes, there is someone hiding in the bush. Go Hunter quickly find who is in the bush,” yelled Helga. “Ok my dear, I will go and see,” said the Hunter and walked to the yard.

It was dark outside, and Harry was getting very scared and feeling a little cold. He tried to squeeze far into the bushes. Soon, Harry saw the Hunter coming into the garden. The Hunter looked around slowly moving from one bush to another poking them with his huge club. In one of the bushes, when he shook it with his club, a few birds flew off making a sharp piercing sound. “Aha, that’s it, some silly birds in the bushes,” Hunter muttered and turned back into the house. Harry, who was in the next bush sighed with relief, “Thank God, I am saved. Hope help comes soon”. The Hunter went inside the house and yelled, “It is nothing dear Helga. Just some birds in the bush. I scared them away, now go to sleep.”

“What birds in my yard? I am sure they are building their nest again. Tomorrow, you better see their nests are broken and the birds are driven away. I don’t want them coming into my yard again. And before you break the nest see if there are any eggs in it, that will make us a good breakfast.”

Chapter 4

Freddie and Eddie lived with their grandmother in a house few miles from Helga’s house.

Freddie and Eddie were panting when they ran into their house shouting, “Grandma! Grandma, Harry is in trouble.” Their Grandma was busy preparing supper for the boys. She quickly opened the door and asked, “Calm down boys, tell me what happened to Harry?” Freddie shouted, “Grandma, Harry fell from a tree inside and is stuck in the yard.” “What yard?” Grandma inquired. “There is a cottage between the playground and the forest. We were playing a game in the playground and the ball got over the fence of the cottage and fell in the yard,” Eddie spoke very excitedly. “Oh my God!” said Grandma, “That must be Helga’s house.” “Who is Helga Grandma?” Eddie and Freddie asked together. “Oh, she is a mean witch who hates young boys and girls. She believes they are a big nuisance as they make noise and mess things up. I heard when she catches some kid, she turns them into mice! But I don’t know that for sure though”, answered Grandma with a sad face. “Oh…Oh! Grandma, we need to quickly get Harry out of that house’, shouted Freddie. “Calm down both of you. Let me think of a plan,” said Grandma, “Ok now listen. You should have your supper and go to bed. I will go now to Helga’s house and look around to help Harry”. “Grandma, we will come with you please”, said Freddie, “You will not know the Helga’s cottage”. “I know the cottage very well and I don’t want any young boys around there in the dark. I can handle the witch very well myself”, said Grandma firmly. “Oh Grandma, we can’t be alone in the house,” Eddie said softly “Lock the door and don’t open till I come back. You will be safe in our house. You should not worry, ok?” Grandma said and she picked up her walking stick, jacket and walked towards Helga’s house.

Chapter 5

In the meanwhile, poor Harry was shivering with cold. The night was getting cooler and darker. Harry thought he would try to get into the house and hide. That way it would keep him warm and safe till help came. “But if I go inside how will others know where I am?”, he wondered. Then he thought of a plan. “Hope this works”, he said aloud praying at the same time it worked. He had with him a piece of paper and a pencil. He wrote in big letters, “I AM INSIDE THE HOUSE HIDING. PLEASE HELP”. Harry then took a big stone and wrapped the paper around it. He went close to the yard fence and threw the stone outside the house. “God let someone find the paper”, he again prayed.

Harry then went towards the windows quietly and tried to open them one by one. But they were all firmly closed and locked. Then he tried the yard door. “What!” he muttered to himself, “the door is opening, it is not locked”. With relief he thought the Hunter must have been very careless and did not close the door fully. “Oh my God, what a relief”, Harry though as he entered the warm room of the witch’s house. He opened a closet and found lots of thick, soft blankets. Harry was so tired and sleepy; he immediately lay down and closed the closet door and went to sleep.

By this time, Harry’s Grandma had reached Helga’s cottage. She went round the cottage to see if there was any opening she could squeeze through. She did not find any. The house was well protected with a strong wooden fence. She tried calling softly, “Harry, are you anywhere nearby?” She kept calling as she went around Helga’s house. But no answer came. Grandma sat down below a big tree to work out a plan. She then noticed a paper ball. What is this? She picked it up and found it heavy. Curiously she unwrapped the paper. She was staring at Harry’s note. Grandma recognized Harry’s handwriting and knew he was safe, hiding inside and so nothing could be done in the dark now. So, she thought she would come up with a plan the next morning. She walked back home.

Chapter 6

The next day morning Eddie and Freddie got up and ran down to the kitchen. Grandma had made some pancakes for them. “Grandma, what happened, where is Harry? We miss him so much”, both shouted. Grandma told them everything that happened the previous night. “Harry is safe right now inside Helga’s house. We will leave right now after you are done with your breakfast,” she said. “We will try to get him out somehow, so come quick finish eating.”

Eddie and Freddie were excited they were going with Grandma. They had missed Harry the whole night and wished he was in no harm in Helga’s cottage. They quickly ate the pancake, drank the milk and were ready to go. Soon all three of them left their home to find Harry in Helga’s cottage. As they went round the cottage looking around, Eddie spoke softly, “Grandma, look there,” he spoke excitedly. “Grandma I see some broken fence planks.”

“Oh yes. Good spotting Eddie. We can squeeze through that opening if we try”, Grandma said.

While Grandma and the two boys were getting into Helga’s cottage, inside Harry was hungry. He slowly opened the closet door and peeped out. Finding everything was quiet and no one around, he walked out and looked around for some food. Near the kitchen he found a pantry. He got some bread and cheese and gobbled them up quickly. As he walked around, he found a bowl full of purple berries and some mushrooms. Harry thought of taking a handful of the berries, but he remembered his grandma had told him some berries were not good to eat. So, instead he picked up a couple of bananas. Then he saw from the kitchen window grandma, Eddie and Freddie near the yard bushes. He tried to wave but they did not see him as they were a bit far away. He wanted to call them but before he could say anything, he heard the Helga shout at her husband. “Hunter, get up lazy bone. Go down and make my breakfast”. “Yes dear, going down in a bit”, came the reply. Harry quickly ran and hid in the closet. He was not scared now as he knew his grandma would save him now.

Chapter 7

Grandma, Eddie, and Freddie were inside the cottage yard, hiding behind the bushes and watching the cottage windows.

Soon they saw Helga walk into the kitchen and shout at Hunter to get her breakfast. “I can still smell some human”, Helga was saying looking around suspiciously. “No dear, no one is here, I assure you. I locked the door and closed all the windows tight. No one could have come,” Hunter assured her. “Let us see. If anyone is here, we will catch them soon. Ok, I need more purple berries for my magic portion. You better start collecting them from the jungle now”, ordered Helga to her husband.

“Yes dear, I am leaving right now,” replied Hunter and soon he was gone. “Yes, I want to make the magic portion to turn all the boys in the village into mice. Ha, Ha, Ha,” Helga was laughing! Grandma heard Helga tell her husband to get purple berries to make the magic portion and grandma knew where these purple berries grew in large numbers. She told Eddie and Freddie to remain hid behind the bush while she got the purple berries.

“Sit tight and don’t make any noise, both of you, clear?” she said. The two boys nodded in silence. Grandma ran home, took a basket, and went to the forest where she knew wild purple berries grew in large number. It was a secret place unknown to many people. Grandma put the purple berries in the basket and ran to Helga’s cottage. First, she went to the yard and called out to Eddie and Freddie. The boys came out from their hiding.

“Listen carefully boys”, she said in a low voice. “I am going to the front door to distract Helga trying to sell the purple berries and while I am doing that, I want you to get into the house through the yard door and get Harry out with you. Then all three of you run back home and lock the house and wait for me. Is that clear”, she asked. The boys nodded. “Ok get ready now.”

Grandma walked to the front door and knocked on it. “Now who is there”, shouted Helga. She came slowly and peeped out of the window and asked,” Well, what do you want old lady?” “I have plenty of purple berries, if you are interested”, Grandma said, “I can sell these for a few gold coins”. While Grandma was talking with Helga, Eddie and Freddie quietly slid into the house and called out softly, “Harry, Harry, where are you”. When Harry heard his friend’s voice, he came out of the closet and hugged them.

“Come on we need to quickly run home now”, said Freddie. The three of them quickly slid out of the cottage and through the opening in the fence and ran home. In the meanwhile, at the front door, Helga could not believe her eyes to see many purple berries. “Ha. So many berries, where did you get these from? And who are you?” shouted Helga. Grandma said, “Oh dear, I grow them in my garden and sell them to all the witches who need them. I came to know you need some, so I came here.” ��But what do you do with so many berries, they are not good for eating, you know,” asked Grandma. “That’s none of your business. Just wait here until I get you a few coins for these berries,” shouted back Helga annoyed. Grandma waited till Helga went inside, then quietly slipped into the house, and went straight to the kitchen and hid herself behind a cupboard. Helga came with the coins and looked around for Grandma. “Hey, where are you old women?” Helga shouted. No one answered. Helga looked here and there then shut the door saying, “Silly old women”.

Chapter 8

Hunter came home and knocked on the door. Helga opened the door and asked loudly,” Now where did you go and what took you so long. Did you get anything at all?” “Helga dear, there are no purple berries anymore in the jungle. I searched everywhere”, said Hunter. “You lazy man. You don’t search properly. Now I don’t want you to go to the jungle for these berries. There is an old woman growing them in her farm, just go and buy from her. And remember, don’t tell her or anyone why we need them. Is that clear,” shouted Helga. “Helga, there aren’t no purple berry farm anywhere here. I know every farm in this village and no one grows them.”

“But look here, I got so many of them today from this woman”, said Helga showing the basket Helga and just got from Grandma. “Oh really! I must find where she grows them. I think this is a trick,” Hunter sounded cautious. “I hope the old woman did not trick me,” Helga said angrily, “and if she is trying to trick me, I will turn her into a mouse”. Helga went to her pot and put all the purple berries in it along with the mushroom and wild cactus flowers and started brewing the magic portion.

“With all these berries I am going to get a very strong portion which will change anyone into a mouse, ha, ha, ha!” Helga said happily singing her favorite jingle.

Grandma was hiding and watching as Helga stirred the brew vigorously swirling it again and again with a little dance. Soon, a very pungent and foul odor filled the room. Grandma could not control herself from the offensive smell. She tied her scarf around her mouth and nose and kept her hands on her nose. “Ahh! It’s done now”, said Helga with excitement. “My magic portion is done. Hunter, prepare lunch now while I change and come in a bit”, Helga said and moved towards her room. “Ok dear. And what will you have for lunch?” Hunter asked. “Well make some soup, my favorite chicken roast and apple pie,” Helga replied as she entered her room and shut the door. Hunter had the lunch ready and called out to Helga, “My dear the lunch is served, piping hot soup with onion rings, chicken, and apple pie. Come down soon”. Hunter then went to the washroom. Grandma quickly came out from her hiding place. She quietly went to the pot Helga had made magic portion. With a spoon she put lots of the magic portion into the soup and stirred it well. She heard Helga coming down from her room. Quickly and silently Grandma went back to her hiding place.

Soon Helga and hunter sat down to eat their lunch. “Aha, my favorite food,” said Helga. “The soup looks good and smells good too. “Yes, I made it carefully the way you like,” Hunter replied. Both drank their soup. And then the magic worked. “Oh my! What is happening? My skin is turning scaly. Hey, I am turning into a mouse,” shouted Helga.

“Me too,” said Hunter in terrified voice.

“Someone is here and has tricked us,” yelled Helga. Grandma came out from her hiding and looked at them. “Yes, I did trick you both. I used your magic portion to turn you into a mouse,” Grandma said smiling. “You old women, how did you get in. Now you must turn us back to ourselves,” Helga the mouse said. “I don’t know how to do that,” Grandma replied. “I will teach you silly old woman,” replied Helga. “No way. You are better being a mouse than a mean witch that troubles all the kinds in the village,” Grandma said. “No, I won’t, I will try to be a good witch, please!” Helga pleaded. Grandma turned back, shut the cottage door and locked it from outside and walked back to her house in the village. Helga and Hunter remained mouse all their life and died in the cottage. Grandma and the boys were happy to get out of trouble from Helga and Hunter.

#reading

1 note · View note

blondrichclosetwitch · 2 years

Text

a vision softly creeping

Left its seeds while I was sleeping

And the vision that was planted in my brain

Still remains

I ain't gonna work for Maggie no more

Well, she talks to all the servants about man and God and law

And everybody says she's the brains behind ma*

She's sixty-eight (14–past lives)*

but she says she's twenty-four (6, the path of love)

I ain't gonna work for Maggie

You know that tape is practically a confession. The fact that they’re starting with you….it’s very curious, as Steel would say. Also, the asterisked ones are when Stella’s tool dropped, for the record.

“On the nose, darling.”

Well you knew as much

The curse is never broken

Mirror mirror on the wall, show me where the bombs will fall

This was the song they used to tell me that the nanny cam was in the painting. But it wasn’t until Dainichi told me exactly what where and in what wall that I put it all together. Plus the fact that oh so dramatically I was the painting(gina) told me to put her outside in front of the church, after deleting every single picture of evidence of it that I had.

“Standing before you is a woman who has become wildly and absurdly successful writing about something of which he has had - absolutely no personal experience. I made it all up. That's how good I am. Now how, I'm sure you're wondering how did this great miracle come to pass? Well, in the beginning, there was a great darkness upon the waters.

She split the world in two, and suddenly, a new world existed. The one below your belt. And above your heart.

the revolution had been televised! Right under the noses of the powers that be, who if they'd have known what was actually happening and the great changes, the changes that were about to come, they would've shut this shit down, or more likely, signed it up real quick, because we the unwatched, the invisible, the powerless, the kids, would want more. Now more life, more love, and more sex, and more hope, and more truth, and more power, and more soul, and most of all, more rock 'n' roll.

The world had fucking changed. In an instant. In a sweating wet orgasm of fun. And all you needed to do to get a taste of it, was to risk being your true self. Because the rock 'n' roll genie had been let out of the bottle and he told us that if you were born in the U.S.A., my fellow citizens, these feelings, these freedoms, this fun, was your birth right. I listened, I believed, and I heard a mighty call to action. So, I studied my new hero. And then I put on my first show.

But somewhere inside, somewhere inside I knew that for a moment, just a moment, in front of those kids, I smelled blood.”

After all these implements and texts designed by intellects to find evidently there’s still so much that hides

I’ll try hard not to pretend allow myself no mock defense

The cruel uneventful state of apathy

Kyrie eleison/Lord, have mercy

Not exactly the boy next-door she’ll tell you tails of horror then she’ll play with your mind

She’ll tell you about ______ who’s house burned in his mind, his love for his dear sister

her death would drive him wild

the murder of a stranger the murder of a friend

the callings from the pits of hell that never seem to end

decapitations poisonings a mind unfurled a mind unbent is all we have here

A mind that spoons guiltily at night

rings for Annie Lee(the writer)

A quiet lie that makes you want to scream and shout

You’ve got a pretty vision in your head a pencil full of poison lead and a second smile illegal in every town

fucking oughta stay the hell away from things you know nothing about

“ i’ll be you and you can be me.”

“ I don’t know which side you’re on, it sure isn’t mine today.”

0 notes

noobsquasher · 2 years

Note

MATT MURDOCK SMUT. NOW!

Special Affair ✮

Word Count: 2.0k

Warnings: unprotected office sex, oral sex (reading receiving), fingering, praising, Matt being a human hound dog, etc

Summary: Resisting temptation from having rough office sex with Matthew seems like the hardest obstacle ever. So why resist?

Notes: Matthew Murdock x Female Reader

This is my first ever Matt Murdock fanfic! I'm so excited to share this with you guys and I'm thrilled for new stories coming soon this year! Enjoy <3

------

You knew it was highly inappropriate to be having sex in the middle of Matt’s office just a few minutes before the end of Foggy and Karen's lunch break, but with how sexy he looked today, and how wet you were, it would be a sin not to.

All morning you’ve been soaking up your panties, the chair too, and it’s been a real hassle to keep your composure whenever Matthew was around you.

His pretty little tie, that dress shirt he always wore, those tight black pants, his cute vermilion glasses… god, you couldn’t handle yourself.

At one point, you got the idea to start shifting in your seat, trying to rub out that intense throbbing feeling between your legs, but it was absolutely no use.

Things got worse when he had a client come in. You needed to sit in the conference room and take notes while your boyfriend discussed the new case he’s been assigned.

It was pure torture, how horny you were. At this point, your legs were shaking at the thought of Matthew fucking you raw, gripping onto you for dear life, pounding his thick cock inside you, staining you with his delicate seed.

Oh, how you imagined your tight—

“Y/N? You here with us?” Matt spoke, gazing at you.

“Huh?”

“I asked you to go get the Manila folder from my office, the one with all the paperwork my client needs to fill out?”

“Oh, yes, I’ll be back.”

You practically stumbled out of the room, trying to get your consciousness together.

Once Matt’s client had finally left the firm, you heard the Angels above harmonize. An extra symphony was added to the rhapsody when the clock struck one.

“Matt, Matt’s girlfriend, me, and Karen are going out to eat, we’ll be back,” Foggy announced as he opened Matt’s office door, Karen next to him.

“My girlfriend has a name, you know?”

“I know.” A goofy grin on his face before he and Karen left.

Matt let out a chuckle, that one reaction setting off a million throughout your needy pussy.

It’s go time.

As soon as you heard the front door close shut, you moved over to Matt’s chair, hopping into his lap.

“Woah there, sweetheart! What’s with all the rush?”

“I’ve been soaking my goddamn seat all morning, Matt. You haven’t noticed?”

A slick smile crept up his soft lips as he leaned into the crevice of your neck.

“Of course I noticed, I could smell you from a mile away.” His hand trailed down your back, gripping your ass, a gentle moan escaping your lips, “I bet you ruined your panties with how fucking wet you are. I can practically hear your clit throbbing.”

You chuckled before catching a quick kiss onto his lips,

“Hm… sorry, I can’t help it. Just your voice gets me going.” Your lips left love bites down his neck, marking your presence. He groaned into your ear, sending chills down your spine, straight to your leaking cunt.

“I could- shit, say the same to you. Had me all flustered with my client, I couldn’t even concentrate with how badly you were drenching the seat.”

You felt his growing boner poke your thigh, a smile staining your lips.

“So are you just gonna sit there or are you gonna help out your poor girlfriend, Mr. Murdock? What will it be?”

You could virtually see his answer laced in between his pearly whites, his pulsating cock below sealing your fate.

Nothing was as beautiful as Matthew Murdock nestled firmly between your thighs, desperately eating away at your delicate folds.

His fingertips dug into your thighs as his hot, wet tongue glided up your slit, gathering all your sweet slick to soak into his tastebuds.

“Fuck- Matty!” You grasped a handful of his chestnut curls, pushing his head deeper into you, grinding your cunt against his scruff. He groaned into you, vibrating your swollen bud with his hums.

“Jesus Christ,” his moans sounded like pure melodies to your ears, slipping in so smoothly, “I wish I could see your face right now, how sexy you look with my face in between you, eating this sweet pussy of mine.” He dived back in as if it was a race to finish his food, have you cum on his tongue.

You jerked your head back, your whimpers and whines dancing around Matt’s office.

“Tell me, tell me how good it feels.” His thick digits sunk inside you, so easily that you heard a groan come from Matt. He immediately curled his fingers to hit that sweet spot of yours, complete babble's sliding down your tongue.

“Talk to me, Angel. What is it?”

Your words were at a loss, you couldn’t concentrate on forming a single sentence as you felt all your nerves fry at once, your mind-boggling at the pleasure.

Matt’s temper rose at your disobedience, his hand immediately grasping your chin to make you face him.

“You're not gonna come any time soon unless you talk to me.”

You cried,

“It- it feels so good! So fucking good, Matty! I’m- I’m really close!”

You didn’t think his fingers could go any deeper, constant strokes against your sweet spot leaving your body completely numb.

His lips found yours, his candid kisses trying to soothe your nebulous state.

“Mm- Matthew! Matty, baby- can, can I-“

“Be my good girl and come.”

On command, you felt your muscles tighten, your leaking cunt clenching around his fingers.

Immense lust rushed throughout your veins, an inhumane surge of dopamine-releasing across your brain in a matter of seconds.

“That’s it, that’s my baby.” You could barely understand what Matthew was saying as you continued to see twinkling stars float around you.

He chuckled, slipping his fingers out to gently place them in your mouth, having you suck your nectar off his digits.

“Sweet, huh?” He grinned before catching a kiss onto your desperate lips, the electrifying touch bringing you back to Earth.

His soft lips trailed down your neck, making way to your chest, his hands unbuttoning your shirt to reveal your covered breasts, waiting to be displayed.

Your glossy orbs marked his, you licked your lips, admiring the view in front of you. A messy Matt, his tie undone, lips swollen, heavy breathing lacing between his teeth, it was as if a living God was held before you. Your pussy ached for him, for the deity in front of you to completely ruin you with his cock.

The silver cross that wrapped around his neck hung below, you grabbed it, pulling him forward to catch a tender kiss on his gentle lips.

“Fuck me, Matthew. Now.”

That slick, sinister smile of his stained his face, his hands quickly undressing you before he practically ripped away from his pants, releasing his strained cock.

It was dripping with precum, throbbing red at the tip, angry veins covering the large length.

You grasped it, pumping it softly as his lips attached to your hardened nipples, sucking needily. You moaned, throwing your head back with ease. His unoccupied hand trailed down to your swollen clit, drawing circles around it.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this. I almost fucked you in front of my client.” He confessed, lips still playing with your sensitive buds. You giggled, “Imagine if you did. You’d get disbarred.” A chuckle left his lips, “It’d be worth it.”

Matthew’s cock couldn’t handle the teasing anymore, he needed to be inside you, needed to feel you wrap tightly around him, how you always fit so snuggly for him.

Matt has always seen you as his blessing in disguise, how he thought you were crafted just for him by God, a generous gift he always assumed he never deserved.

With how you always made his breath stop, how the rhythms of your heart practically matched his, or how your craving voice sounded like a million melodies to his ears, deep down he knew that he deserved you. He needed you, he ached to be around you, his mind always revolved around the one and only, you.

He dove in to place a loving kiss onto your lips, his cock playing with your slick folds as if he was asking permission to completely indulge in you, to feel you all around. Your soft lips molded between his, giving him his dying answer.

A gasp escaped your lips as soon as he sunk inside you, your cunt needing some time to shape around him.

He took his time with you, soothing you with delicate kisses as he softly pumped inside you, honeyed mumbles leaving both your lips as he gently increased his thrusts.

Your eyes marked each other once again, you took in how beautiful his hazel orbs were, how they sparkled continuously, especially when he was fixated on you.

Your hands held onto his shoulders, “Harder, Matt. I can take it.” He smiled, his charming dimples imprinting you, “I know you can.”

His soft thrusts turned into harsh pounds, your eyes immediately falling into the back of your head.

His desk shook with rhythm, some papers he had filed falling off, making a mess of articles on the floor.

You’d clean that later.

You felt his cock pulsate inside you as you tensed around him, your hips bucking forward, needing to feel him deeper within. He held onto you with care, fucking you with much love.

In a matter of minutes, Matthew started to lose his mind too, his complex sentences forming into incoherent babbles with each pump.

“Gonna come for me, Matty? Gonna make a mess inside me?”

He let out an utter groan, pulling you even closer to him,

“F-fuck. Fuck, yes! Y/N!” Sounds of skin harshly slapping, and Matthew’s desk squeaking started to drown out with how loud he was moaning, chanting your name like a prayer.

He wanted the whole city of Hell’s Kitchen to hear how good you felt, how well you took him, better than anybody else. His thrusts got sloppy, his kisses slowing down as he neared his end.

You on the other hand tried to hold your damaged composure, your second orgasm about to hit you any second.

“Matty… Matty, I can’t hold it anymore.” You warned him, the impending feeling residing within you threatening to break.

“I know… I know, sweetheart.” You could tell he was falling apart too,

“We’re gonna come together, alright? Yeah, baby?” You nodded your head immediately, catching a kiss to agree.

Suddenly, it was as if the world had flipped. Pure warmth overtook your entire body, your cells filling with absolute pleasure as your vision clouded. Roars escaped your lips, unabashed moans sliding into Matt’s ears as you held onto him, feeling your body turn into jelly.

Matthew came undone soon after you, his hot, white cum coating your aching walls, releasing his sinful seed inside his pure Angel.

Your body completely surrendered afterward, Matt making sure to secure you in his arms.

“I got you, baby. I got you.” His sweet words faded as your mind started to cease, your eyelids slowly falling.

“Hey, hey… you can’t pass out now. It’s only the afternoon.”

You mumbled into his arms, body completely numb. He chuckled, placing a delicate kiss onto your sweat-stained forehead.

Suddenly, you heard the front door bust open, Foggy and Karen appearing.

“We gave you guys enough time to finish your… session! Please get dressed and come eat, we brought Indian food!” Foggy yelled, a bit of nervousness laced between his words.

Shit, they most definitely heard us.

“You dirty freaks need to get the hell out of there! We have clients coming in soon!” Karen yelled, obviously frustrated over you and Matt’s shenanigans.

“Give us a minute! I gotta- I gotta catch my breath!” You responded, a hand on your chest.

Matt laughed, his contagious smile leaving mark on you.

“God, we need to stop fucking in the office. They somehow always find out.” He chuckled, “Yeah, maybe. Or not.” He teased, kissing you once more.

———

190 notes · View notes

bucksfucks · 3 years

Text

𝙘𝙡𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙚 ; 𝘀𝘁𝗲𝘃𝗲 𝗿𝗼𝗴𝗲𝗿𝘀

summary┃steve has always had his eyes on you, yours on him. catching you on the beach he finally gets a taste of what he’s missing.

pairing┃achilles!steve x f!reader

word count┃1,721 words

warnings┃beach sex, semi-public sex, a lot of nudity, oral, fingering, skinny dipping, soft smut, light degradation, dirty talk, unprotected sex — 18+ ONLY//MINORS DNI

notes┃this is very loosely based off of the story of achilles, like...very loosely. the only similarity is the blonde hair and the fact that steve is a demi-god, other than that, it’s self-indulgent <3

He isn’t really sure when he first saw her.

All he knows is that he can’t keep his eyes off of her as she wanders through the cobbled street.

She’s dressed in a simple gown, slightly weathered with loose strands floating above her feet as she wanders through the bazar. There’s an airiness to her, light and free as he sees light emanating from her.

He’s perched on top of a thick tree branch that’s able to hold his weight. Legs swinging and hair blowing in the summer air as he crunches down on the last slice of his clementine.

He wonders if she’d be sweeter than the sweet juice coating his tongue.

“If you stare at her any longer you’ll burn holes through her skull,” he feels a nudge against his right shoulder, pushing him slightly forward as someone joins him on the large branch.

He ignores the remark, scoffing as the bitter peel falls from his hand and other the grass below where it would be hoarded by squirrels and chipmunks.

Bucky’s legs dangle with Steve’s, touching but not connected as he continues to admire the way she picks a few apples into her woven basket.

He pays no attention to Bucky, the sound of his voice outweighed by the thoughts of her.

“Steve?” It’s a question as he finally snaps out of his haze, “what’s gotten into you?” Bucky asks, a genuine sense of wonderment in his tone as the younger of the two sighs.

“I think I’ve been struck by cupid himself.” He says aloud and Bucky can’t help but roll his eyes, but the smirk displayed on his lips makes him happy, happy that Steve has finally taken a liking to anything other than the bronzed shield he wields.

“I hear she has no lover,” Bucky whispers cheekily, the words catching Steve by surprise as he feels his heart leap towards her.

“Who told you that?” Steve asks, bewildered, amused, and hungry for more information. Bucky just laughs, jumping from the branch effortlessly before craning his head up to look at the golden haired man.

“You’ll have to find out for yourself.”

The waves crashed against the shore, sand growing damp as you dug your toes into it. The sun was slowly fading, but still just as hot as you closed your eyes and let the sunshine was over you.

The beach was always a safe space, providing you with recluse when you wanted time with the most important person; yourself.

The woven basket you carried, now filled with fresh fruit and a jug of water, sat half buried in the tan sand, acting as a weight on the rag you lay for when you emerged from the water.

Shedding your clothes, you made your way beneath the waves, relishing in the cool water against your skin as your mind wandered back to the bazar. You saw him, perched atop a tree, lounging with his bow and arrow across his toned chest and back as he ate the sweet clementines you’d been trying to find.

Everyone knew of Steve, but vert few knew Steve.

He wasn’t like you or anyone else you knew, part God as his walked with a high head and a glimmer in his eye that made him shine.

When you made your way back onto the beach you were tired, taking you time to re-dress as you dig into the basket, an apple in hand before you’re biting down on it.

It’s sweet, quelling your hunger just enough, but it doesn’t satisfy you.

“Apples are sweet, but the summer is the season for clementines.” A sweet voice rings out from behind you, turning around to be met with none other than Steve.

He was barefoot, buried in the sand, his bow and arrow still slung across his back and you couldn’t help but let your eyes wander across the vast expanse of his broad chest.

A smile stretches across your lips, tantalizing Steve as he takes a few steps closer until he’s at the edge of the rag you’re sat on.

“Perhaps I can entice you with one, instead?” He smirks, the orange fruit resting perfectly in the middle of his large hand as he sinks to his knees. You bite at your bottom lip, meeting his gaze.

“What is Steve, Son of Peleus doing talking to just a mere mortal?” You tease, craning your head slightly upward as Steve tosses the fruit upward, catching it with ease.

“Have you forgotten, my dear?” He muses, rolling the fruit towards you as you catch it in your own hand. “The sea is also my home, this is where I go when it calls me.”

His words are so soft, voice sweet like honey as it flows through the air and you feel the warm breeze surrounding you like a hug from Aeolus himself. You felt the familiar rush of butterflies you often felt when you thought about him, but here he was, in front of you with a beaming smile on his lips.

“Has it called you today?” You asked, a soft whisper and almost barely audible as he leans closer, “the sea amongst other things are calling me.”

Your heart is racing in your chest, he smells like lavender, almonds, and earth as he pulls back. He’s quick on his feet, marvelling at the muscles and strength he posses as he strips of the rest of his clothes.

It’s not hard to believe that he is part God, Adonis himself having competition as he flicks his eyes up at you.

“Join me,” he says gently, outstretching his hand before you’re stripping once again, clothes in a pile with his as you take his hand, submerging beneath the water.

He clearly belongs in the water, waves calming around him as he wraps his strong arms around you to bring you close to his warm body. You’re lost in the blue of his eyes, like the sky met the sea and you never want to look away.

“I have been dreaming of the day I can get my hands on you,” he admits faintly, your breath hitching in your throat as you can’t resist the urge to smile.

“The day that my lips get to meet yours,” your heart is now tumbling, core aching as you feel him stiffen against you.

“The day that I get to taste you.” There’s a glimmer in his eyes, mischievous, playful, and yearning as you tangle your fingers in the hair that rests at the nape of his neck.

Steve wastes no time in wrapping your legs around his waist before his lips are on yours, hungry and passionate as he steals the breath from your lungs until you’re dizzy.

Water sloshes around your bodies, breaths hot and heavy as wandering hands squeeze at your flesh and curves, Steve memorizing the way you feel.

Your eyes are closed, lips still on his as he carries you both onto the beach and onto the warm cloth lining the sand, gently setting you down. You take a moment to admire the way his wet hair hangs in front of you eyes, pieces of it seemingly glued down to his forehead.

“You are breathtaking, practically Aphrodite herself,” he mumbles against your neck, lips passing by your collarbone before he’s peeling the sweet fruit in front of your eyes.

“Open,” the command is gentle as you do so, parting your lips to welcome the fruit slice. You moan at the taste, relishing in the sweetness of it before Steve is running his thumb over your bottom lip.

His lips seal yours once again, body heavy on top of yours as you feel the weight of his cock between your thighs. It swells when you sink your teeth into his bottom lip.

“Mmm, so sweet, my dear,” he mumbles against your mouth, “but I can think of something sweeter.” He purrs, nose running between your breasts until he’s situated right above your hair decorated mound.

“Oh,” you gasp when he throws your legs over his broad shoulders, the sun just barely peeking over the horizon as Steve laps at your folds.

You’ve never experienced pleasure like this, every part of your body feeling as if it’s on fire as he groans against you, “so sweet.” He praises your legs beginning to tighten around his head.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you,” he pants, emerging with wet lips as his fingers are still focused on you. You can’t keep your eyes open, back arching as you lose yourself to the pleasure; waves crashing in the background.

“I need to feel you, sweet. Feel all of you.” He whispers, low and raspy as he holds himself over you on his forearms. He smells like you, tastes like the sweet orange juice, and you’re hypnotized.

“Steve,” you can only croak out his name before he’s filling you.

He’s thick and it stretches you like no other as his low groans and grunts fill your ears.

“Feel so fuckin’ good,” the curse causes you to clench around him as he smirks.

“My sweet, sweet, sweet girl.” His voice is much lower this time around, tone slightly condescending as his hips rock against yours.

“Here I thought you were innocent,” he smirks, “but the sounds you’re makin’, oh they are anythin’ but innocent my filthy little girl.”

Steve’s words, combined with his deep thrusts have you digging your nails into his lightly tanned back, crescent shaped indents the only reminder of you.

“Be mine,” he gasps, your eyes shooting open as those words leave his mouth. His lips are wet and parted, ragged breaths leaving them as he trains his eyes on you.

“Be mine and I will show you the world,” he promises as his hips stutter inside of you. You nod your head, “yes, yes!”

Your words are a double edged sword, a promise and a plea as you feel the white hot pleasure seeping through your bones for the second time that night as your name leaves through his mouth.

By the time you open your eyes next the waves have calmed and the moon is now showing her face, stars littering the sky as Steve’s eyes are a muted cerulean shade.

“You are my Clementine, sweet like the summer breeze.”

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elias-code · 3 years

Text

The Feeling’s Mutual - c!Techno x Reader

PT 1 because I‘m taking too long lmao

Characters: c!Technoblade x gn!Reader, Philza, Quackity, Charlie S

Summary: [from an ask] The reader is kicked out by Quackity from Las Nevadas and was forced to roam around to look for somewhere to live and they end up in Techno’s cabin after passing out in the tundra. At first, you have a shared hatred of each other, but you end up warming up when you figure out he’s been making you breakfast.

Warnings: Exile, mild malnutrition, corruption

————————— Enjoy :3 —————————

“Ooh! I get to go visit you now! Like a vacation!” Charlie cheered.

“No, Charlie,” You sighed, continuing to follow him out of the city, “I’m getting exiled. I don’t think Quackity will let you visit me,”

He frowned, confused. He wasn’t the best at understanding broad concepts like exile and all the drama that brought it about. He just thinks you’re one of his best friends, and that Quackity is also his best friend. Now, Quackity was in no way your friend as you once were. He banished you for the dumbest thing, just because you challenged his integrity. Unbeknownst to Charlie, Quackity was giving away trade secrets, rigging elections and his casinos. You didn’t join him to scam people, you just wanted a new start after L’Manburg.

You walked with him in silence past the bright neon lights and street lamps of Los Nevadas. You were never going to be allowed back here, even though you built half of the damn place.

“So if Quackity doesn’t let me visit, can you visit me?” Charlie asked solemnly.

“Again, probably not,” You stuffed your hands in your pockets and half-smiled at him, “I don’t think he wants to see me back here. Ever,”

Where were you even going to go? No one would take you. Quackity had made many enemies, who were, in turn, yours, and now no one you were allied with alongside Quackity will be friendly except for Charlie. But Charlie was his lapdog, nothing could touch him and you weren’t going to be allowed around him anymore.

Your enemies list was vast, all the way up at the top, finally overtaking Technoblade, was Quackity. Congrats, Big Q, you piece of shit.

Charlie stopped at the end of the road, finally realizing this might be the last time you see each other. He wanted to cry, but he held it back. There’d always be hope, he could sneak out, you could sneak in. But you’d have to do it all in secret, and it just didn’t feel right to him.

“I’m gonna miss you, Charlie,” You said.

He smiled weakly at you and pulled you in for a slimy hug.

“We’ll see each other again someday,” He stated.

You wanted to believe that, but the pit in your stomach just sank further as the embrace came to an end. You’d have to get going, this would be the last time you see him, or Los Nevadas for that matter, in a long time at least.

You spent days wandering. Just as you suspected, no one would take you in. Not even Niki because of your governmental associations. You found the occasional scrap of meat or stale bread in some chests along the prime path, but you felt so sick to your stomach that it became hard to eat anything you found.

From the desert to the ocean to the plains to the tundra you roamed. You hunted with what little supplies you had.

There had been no food for days now, the snow was the only source of water within sight. There were no signs of life, no people, no animals, only the occasional dying tree to sleep under in the blistering cold. As if things couldn’t get any worse, the blizzard came.

Blinding white all around. The only sound audible was the whistling of the wind in the frozen, rotting branches above you. At this point, you’d gone numb, the only thing you could feel was your heart beating heavily in your chest as you lost consciousness.

“We couldn’t just leave them out in the snow, Techno! That’s just cruel!”

“They’re with Quackity, Phil. Don’t make me explain this again,”

“I’m not going to let you throw them back out,” Phil explained, “No one would willingly come here, Technoblade. They have a reason, I know it,”

You opened your eyes cautiously. It was warm, you were covered in a thick red cape and a few blankets, the fire next to you was roaring. Whatever argument was taking place had moved further into the distance, out of earshot.

Everything ached, but at least you were warm. You let yourself come to your senses. Maybe the exile was all a nightmare. Maybe Quackity wasn’t a dumb bitch after all. But where were you? Whose bed was this? Whose-

It’s Technoblade’s cape.

Your eyes widened as you shot up out of bed. The pain in your legs was sickening, but so was being in this man’s house. You ran to the fireplace and grabbed some sharp steel tongs, meant for poking at the logs, for protection. His footsteps moved closer, the conversation was over.

You brandished your weapon and prayed for dear life.

The door creaked open and he stepped through, shutting it behind him. He stared at you, looking down at the weapon and then back at the tossed bed. He looked unfazed by your threatening pose. You were more scared than he was.

“I lend you my cape,” Technoblade points at the bed, “And you decide the best move for you is to stab me?”

Guilt crept into your throat.

“What am I doing here?” You hissed at him.

“Phil found you under a tree,” He chuckled, “And decided he wanted to adopt someone else,”

“Aren’t you supposed to kill me or something?”

“Why? Should I?” He threatened, taking a step towards you.

You stepped back, bumping into the table behind you, “That- That’s what you do,”

“If it were up to me, you’d probably be buried in the snow by now.”

You scowled at him, rediscovering past hatred towards him and using that to fuel your rage.

“I’d rather be left out there,” You spat, “Not stuck in here with you-“

“Again, I agree, but Phil is the one you should be angry with if you don’t want to be here,” He rolled his eyes and held his hand out.

“I’m not giving this back to you,” You growled.

He stepped forward and snatched the spear out of your hand, tossing it behind him, out of reach. He leaned forward and hissed in your face, “Don’t try anything, kid,”

You swallowed your pride, weak and unarmed. Whether you liked it or not, you’d have to stay with him for a while. No one would take you in, so it was either deal with Technoblade or die. You might as well use this to your advantage.

Days went by where you never even saw Techno. Phil took care of you most of the time, but he didn’t have any room in his house with Wilbur being there and all, so you were forced to sleep in Techno’s cabin. It became easier and more manageable as time went on. The only time you ever really saw him were the latest hours of the night when he’d come home and, if you were lucky, at dawn when he left.

Breakfast usually materialized at your doorstep every morning around the same time. Sometimes it was yoghurt, sometimes fresh fruit, sometimes cold meat and oatmeal, but it was always delicious. You suspected Phil was behind the mysterious meals, that was until you asked him about it.

“I don’t think I ever said, but thanks for breakfast,” You smiled at Phil as you helped him load firewood into the horse’s saddlebags.

He looked at you, perplexed, to say the least.

“What breakfast? Don’t you just eat whatever Techno has?” Phil replied.

Your stomach turned, letting the past couple of weeks turn over in your head. You shouldn’t have assumed Phil was the one making your food. You should’ve asked before you just started gorging yourself every morning.

Phil watched as you turned pale and hopped on the horse. He thought that you just ate whatever Techno had in his pantries, and never questioned it. Now, all was revealed. Techno had been making you breakfast.

For most people living as a guest in someone else's house, having breakfast brought to their door would just be seen as a sweet thing, but it was dangerously blown out of proportions when it was your ex greatest enemy doing it without you even knowing. You silently reasoned with yourself that if he was going to poison you, you’d be dead already. That comforting fact backfired as you realised he could have killed you so easily. Your emotions were on a rollercoaster, and your stomach sank deeper and deeper as the more intrusive thoughts crept in.

You needed to catch him in the act. Something about The Blood God making you breakfast created sentiments of self-worth out of thin air. Part of you wanted to prove it to yourself, and part of you wanted to embarrass him for it.

The familiar shine of daybreak made the room glow orange. The fire had gone out that night, as it usually did, but the cold felt like nothing now that you had a mission to accomplish.

You slipped out of bed, clad in leggings and a simple green shirt. The floor was icy on your bare feet but you trodded out the door and down the stairs, heading for the kitchen.

The dining room was salmon-pink, highlighted by the bright orange flickering coming from the fireplace. It was already warmer down here than it was upstairs, the fire must’ve already been on for a while by now. The kitchen was out of view, but you could already smell fish frying from the base of the stairs.

Making your way through the archway, you spotted Techno’s red cape on its hook by the door next to the thick winter coat you loaned from Phil. Below them, both were black boots, sprinkled with half-melted snow. The floorboard below you creaked when you stood in the doorway to the kitchen.

Techno spun around, startled by the noise. His face flushed with guilt temporarily but was quickly replaced by a furrowed brow and confused eyes.

“What are you doing awake? It’s five,” He implored.

“I could smell the salmon,” You shrugged and moved towards him innocently.

He turned back to the fish and turned the stove off, sliding it onto a plate.

“What’re we eating today?”

“You just said,”

You scoffed and conceded. It was a dumb thing to ask, but he wasn’t supposed to answer. It was only meant to highlight the reality that you knew what he’d been doing. Nothing in his expression, now unreadable, made you think he didn’t know that you knew he’d been making you breakfast.

He gently pushed by you, letting his arm brush against yours. It made your heart skip a beat, probably out of fear, you told yourself. Your skin went cold, but you followed him into the next room where he put the dish on the table and gestured for you to sit.

“You don’t seem to hate me anymore,” You mumbled.

“I never said I hated you, just that I don’t like you,”

“Well, you don’t seem to not like me either,”

He blinked at you and sat across the table from you.

“Where are you going today?” You said with a mouthful of food, “To do mysterious things, I imagine,”

“I was going to stay here today, actually.”

You stopped eating.

“I finished my mysterious duties,” He mocked.

Well, he wasn’t going to budge on where he’d been going the past few nights, but that wasn’t particularly important right now. What caught your attention was that he was staying here for the day. Again, meaningless to most people, but with him, it was surprising.

He began snickering, just at your face.

“I was never the one that hated you,” He laughed, “You were the one who brandished that poker at me,”

Your face flushed red with embarrassment, “I can be resourceful, at least,”

He continued to laugh at you, the absurdity of the situation hitting him with full force. Right now you wished you could hit him with full force.

“Alright, alright,” He took a deep breath, “I do have some questions for you,”

You looked up at him, annoyance plastered on your face.

“Shoot,”

“Why are you here instead of Las Nevadas?”

“Because Quackity kicked me out, and-“

“How did you know I made you breakfast?” He cut you off.

“I asked Phil, but-“

“Why did Quackity kick you out?”

“I asked him too many questions, just-“

“Do you still hold any loyalty to him?”

“No, but-“

“Questionnaire over, thank you for participating,” He stood up and excused himself from the table, heading back to the kitchen.

Techno never left again after that. He stuck around and made an effort to make you annoyed and uncomfortable every chance he could get. It was becoming a sort of game with him, and you were more than happy to play along. It made it easier to get along with him in general. There’d be no more dreading seeing him, no more awkwardness surrounding your avoidance.

Now, you had other things to be awkward about. If you passed each other a bit too close in a doorway, when you tripped over a rug in the living room, the fact that you were sleeping in his bed, the abrupt flirtatious nature of the man you were now sharing a room with.

You never really thought about it, but before he moved back into his room onto a makeshift bed, he’d been sleeping on the couch. He’d wake you early in the morning when he’d get up to make breakfast, and whenever he did leave to run errands, he’d wake you late at night when he came home.

One morning, around eight, he woke you purposefully.

“Get dressed, I want to show you something,” he whispered, gently shaking you.

You groggily complied and eventually found your way to the front door where he was waiting for you.

“No breakfast?” You asked.

“Breakfast after,” He said, opening the door.

He was dressed in his usual clothes, but he carried a large satchel with him. Inside were different scraps of leftover meat and some bones. He didn’t tell you what for, but you were too tired to ask anyway.

You followed him through the fresh snow, crunching under your feet. It was drowned out by mindless conversation that you both kept up to stay awake. He brought you to a distant hill in a clearing, where a cliffside was awaiting. The conversation stopped as he told you to wait, and he went over to the wall and pressed a rock into the stone.

You could faintly hear the sound of pistons firing before the rock slid down slotted into the floor.

The sound of dogs barking filled the forest as hundreds of dogs and puppies spilt out of the entrance. Most of them went running to Techno, who was now holding the bag aloft, out of reach from the dogs. Some of them ran to you, their tails wagging happily at their new potential playmate.

“Pretty cool, huh?” He shouted.

“Holy-“ You stopped and pet the large, black dog that jumped on you, “Where’d you get so many dogs?”

“Long story,” He began to throw chunks of meat into the writhing pile of hounds, who were now obsessively sniffing you.

“I do this three times a week,” he said as he made his way over to you, “It’d get done a lot faster if you could help now that you’re living here full-time,”

“Wait,” You looked at him blankly, “Full-time?”

“That’s the idea,”

You thought for a moment, “Where am I going to sleep?”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,” he said, handing you some chunks of meat to throw.

By the time Techno’s bag was empty, it was almost noon. He shephered them back into the cavern and shut the door behind them. They were very well trained, when he commanded them all to sit once they got inside, there was no hesitation. The puppies were confused at first, but they followed along with the pack flawlessly.

Leaving the clearing, you talked with him freely about your plans for the future at the cabin. It didn’t mean you’d live there forever, knowing Techno, he might end up being hunted out of the tundra eventually. But for now, you were sticking with him.

It was strsnge to think that you were once mortal enemies, staring each other down on the battlefield with nothing but rage coursing through your veins. Now, you were cheerily chatting about what it would be like to settle down together. Between the two of you, mutual feelings of respect and redemption. The distrust was long since buried.

#c!techno x reader #c!technoblade x reader #techno x reader #technoblade #technoblade x reader #techno dsmp #dsmp x reader #dream smp #dsmp #mcyt x reader #mcyt #eli exile #elias original

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