#if this woman can lift a cow she can lift a man

[houseofheroesau]

I'm releasing some old art because some people want to see it

Have an old Malink (when I was playing with designs)

Strong wife

Time likes a woman who can kick his ass

Don't tag as LU, please.

[holylulusworld]

Pipsqueak & Grumpy

Summary: Logan defends you.

Pairing: Wolverine (Logan Howlett) x Plussized (short) Reader

Warnings: grumpy Wolverine (you know him), sunshine reader, plus-sized reader, bullying/fat-shaming, protective Wolverine

A/N: Please consider that I write for the taller version of Wolverine from the movies, not the comics.

“Slow down, big grump,” you giggle because your boyfriend (or not boyfriend because Logan hates the word) is stomping toward the bookstore. If he hates anything, it’s shopping, but he makes an exception for you. His hold on your hand is light, but it makes your heart flutter. “Logan.”

“What is it, Pipsqueak?” He stops in his tracks, almost making you bump into his back. Logan cocks one brow while looking down at you. “I’m not smoking.”

“I asked you to slow down.” You pout. “My legs are shorter, and you’re so fast.”

“Aw, do you want me to carry you?” Logan grabs your waist, intending to lift you. “I could throw you over my shoulder and carry you around. No problem, sweet Pipsqueak.”

“No!” You playfully swat his chest. “That’s for the bedroom only.” Your eyes narrow as you watch three girls and their boyfriends walk toward you and Logan. They watch you interact and start laughing.

“Man, I wouldn’t try lifting that chubby bumblebee,” one of the boys laughs. “You’ll break your back, or worse.”

Logan dips his head as they step closer. He grits his teeth, already tensing. One more word from the idiots not knowing what they got themselves into, and there will be blood coloring the street. Not Logan’s, though.

“First and final warning,” your boyfriend growls in their direction. “Get the fuck away from me and my girlfriend.” Your heart flutters because Logan called you his girlfriend in front of others; you only wish it wasn’t at that moment.

“GIRLFRIEND?” One of the girls says, scoffing. “You could do so much better. You’re not that old.” The group starts laughing when the boy talking shit calls you a fat, short cow.

Logan growls like the animal he can turn into. He gently cups your face and pecks your temple before he turns on his heels. Logan looks the boys up and down, a dark smirk on his lips.

One of them already steps back, tugging at his girlfriend’s hand.

“So, you think you can come here and talk like that about my girlfriend?” Logan’s voice alone makes the girls whimper. They didn’t expect Logan to look like a feral wolf when he turned around. “I see you need me to tell you how to treat a woman, right.”

“Sir, they didn’t mean to-.” The last boy raises his hands in surrender and walks back. “Uh, I didn’t say a thing.”

“You didn’t say a thing; that’s right.” Wolverine steps even closer. “At least your friends were brave enough to believe they could make fun of my girl. You were just standing next to them, laughing like a hyena. A real man would never allow his friends to do such a shady thing.”

“Sir…” The girl laughing at you squeaks. “But she’s…” She screams in terror when Logan lifts his left arm and slowly slides his claws out. He chuckles darkly when the girl wets her pants. “Nooooo!”

“What will it be, boys?” Logan asks, sliding the claws on his right hand out. “A taste of my claws, or you on your knees begging my beautiful girl for forgiveness.”

He cocks his head, waiting for their answer. The girls run off, while the boys fall to their knees, murmuring apologies.

“I can’t hear you!” Wolverine yells. “Louder! I want everyone to know that you are little boys with small dicks and even smaller brains. You will tell them that you said all this shit because you are not man enough to satisfy a hot-blooded woman like my girlfriend.”

“We are little boys with small dicks and even smaller brains,” the boys say in unison. “We are not man enough to satisfy your hot-blooded woman.”

“Damn right,” Logan huffs. He slides his claws back in, but steps closer to the kneeling boys. “You’ll stay like that for ten more minutes and repeat the words. If,” he says while sliding his claws back out, "you ever say something like that to anyone ever again, I’ll find you and cut your tiny cocks off.”

As fast as he put the group into their place, Logan turned back around, his features softening.

“Now, Pipsqueak, we are going to get the books you wanted,” Logan smirks when you look up at him like he’s your hero (and he truly is in any way).

He grabs your waist, easily lifts you, and throws you over his shoulders, laughing loudly as people stop walking only to stare at the bizarre scene. The boys are still reciting the words, while Logan carries you toward the bookstore, whistling a tune.

“Logan,” you giggle and laugh. “Let me down!”

“Never, Pipsqueak,” he laughs and swats your ass with his hand. “I’d never let you down.”

Tags in reblog.

[jayaury]

Marrying the Maid

More archive short stories. Get more on my P*treon. Enjoy! https://www.patreon.com/JayAury

---

Baron Lukas Instaf fell into his office chair with an audible groan.

Yes.

His office.

He had to keep reminding himself of that fact. To think, he would inherit the barony at a mere twenty years of age. It was quite a bit of pressure, he had to admit.

He found himself looking back at the imposing portrait hanging over the mantle of the fireplace. His father’s picture was of a grim, sullen man with dark hair and a face of hard, disapproving lines.

Lukas had inherited the man’s hair, if not his rough features. He was slimmer than his stocky father. Many said handsomer, and certainly younger. He flexed his hands on the arms of the chair uneasily and scanned the study. He didn’t much care for the decor. But that had always been his problem, as his father had frequently berated him. He was indecisive. Weak.

Well, Lukas had best start getting decisive. For this was his home now.

Well, mostly.

The door swung open with a bang. “Good morning master!”

He sat up sharply as a familiar figure bounced into the room. Clarissa, the family’s maid of two years, was a forceful personality in the house. She filled every room she stepped foot in with her presence and somewhat unconventional character. Lukas had no idea why his father had kept the boisterous redhead.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. He had a good idea. Two of them, actually. Clarissa was bustier than some holstaurs. In fact, there were rumours that she was one of those bovine maidens, but had filed down her horns. Lukas wasn’t sure how much he believed that, but he did know that she did attend that new cow goddess church that was making waves. And she was unbelievably brash and forceful for a servant. Not to mention teasing. He’d often been at the receiving end of her attentions, leaving him flustered and annoyed.

And she was wearing scent again, he noticed with a sigh. Honestly, it seemed like every day she wore a new kind of perfume. The current one was jasmine, and was shockingly potent. Well, at least it was better than the rosemary she used to wear around his father. In fact, it was almost… pleasant.

“Clarissa!” he sighed, forcing himself not to stare at the maid’s impressive bust. “You-”

“Here with your tea!” she said, sliding the tray into place before him with a wink of her long lashes. “Starting off the morning well, as the big, strong baron should!”

“Clarissa, really. You can’t just-”

“Not to worry, my baron! There’s plenty of cream. I know how much you like it,” she added, picking up a pitcher and pouring a generous helping into his cup. “And you’ll need it today! Because we have quite a bit of work to do.”

In the midst of tidying his papers, Lukas paused. “We do?”

“Of course, my lord! Now that you are baron, we must decide on your betrothed.”

“M-my what!”

“And I have them right here!” Clarissa chimed, lifting a folder out from some hidden recess of her scandalously short skirt (it had to be custom. No other maid in the estate had such a revealingly tight uniform). “Shall we take a look, my baron?”

“Wh… Hold on now, I can’t just-”

“My baron!” Clarissa cried in mock horror. “Surely you realize the importance in choosing your bride? The barony cannot be left without a mistress. Not only for the hard work running the estate, but also the vital work of carrying on the family line! Which means we must choose the most ample, breedable, lovely wife for you.”

“B-breedable? Clarissa! That is-”

“Not to worry, my baron. I’m sure you can manage that. Why, any woman would consider herself lucky to be bent over your table as you thrust home, stuffing her full of your droit de seigneur.”

Lukas’s face burned as it always did whenever Clarissa got going like this. Not to say she was wrong, unfortunately. She was absolutely right. He did need to get married, but it still seemed so early to be shopping for a bride. “Clarissa, really. I-”

“Early to start, my baron! We must be. Once word gets out that Baron Instaf is not only single, but such an adorable, impressive, handsome piece of stud meat, why, we’ll be besieged by eligible young ladies looking to have you mount them like a prized mare! And whichever does will be lucky to have you. Take my word for it!”

“Clarissa! This is… that sort of talk is hardly-”

“You’re so right, my baron. Here I am, chattering away, and you haven’t even gotten a chance to look at the choices! Let’s take a look at the candidates, shall we?”

Lukas sighed, finally giving up. It was near impossible to stop Clarissa once she set her mind to something, though by gods he would soon. He’d have to talk to the head butler about firing her. She treated him far too casually. But for now, he supposed the best thing was just to get this business with the portraits over with.

“Fine,” he said. “Let’s take a look…”

“How wise, my dear baron,” Clarissa chirped merrily as she opened the folder to the first page, propping it up just underneath her immense bosom.

Lukas cleared his throat, forcing himself to look at the portrait and not the impressive pair of breasts just above it. “And this is…”

“Mirria Mable. Daughter of a lord in the southern country. Quite the pick specimen. An attractive if air headed young thing. Pretty, but not terribly bright. And not nearly as endowed as me, hm?”

“Clarissa! That’s hardly appropriate,” Lukas said, though he had to admit it was true, and his eyes did quickly steal a glance at Clarissa’s chest as if just to make sure of that. Gods, the room felt suffocating in the perfume she wore. He should open a window, though the scent wasn’t unpleasant. In fact, it was a bit… soothing.

Clarissa giggled. “Very true, my baron. We cannot judge a woman less blessed than myself in that respect. Some of us were merely born with a generous bosom. Perfect to lay one’s head upon.”

Lukas rolled his eyes, but felt his cheeks warm at the thought. “I ah… Well, what about the others?”

“The others? Of course, my lord,” Clarissa said, turning the page, her chest bouncing as she did so.

The sight made Lukas realize quite suddenly his mouth was very dry. With haste, he picked up a teacup and took a sip. Mm. Normally he wasn’t a big fan of cream in his tea, but wherever Clarissa got hers, it was delicious.

“Now then,” Clarissa said. “Lady Blumen from the duchy of Clausen seems like a perfect match for you. Nearly as busty as I am, and I know how important that is for you, my baron.”

“Not that important…” he mumbled.

“Ho ho!” Clarissa laughed, the throaty mirth making her breasts bounce most distractingly in her tight top. “How droll you are, my baron! But I know how much you value an impressive pair of breasts. You can barely keep your eyes off mine!”

Lukas flushed again, realizing he had been staring at her chest. He hastily took another sip of tea. Gods, he was feeling a bit light headed. “I ah… What else is there about her?”

“Why, only that she is something of a black widow, my baron. A nasty piece of work. She delights in wedding rich men, then crushing them beneath her heel. Nitpicking them until they don’t dare breathe without her approval. And what a cruel thing, my baron! Why, she cannot understand true love. The love of a good husband willing to do anything for his darling wife. Adore you. Worship her! She’s only in it for the quick cash! No sense of adoring her new spouse like the good boy he is.”

“S-sorry. Good boy?” Lukas said.

Clarissa giggled, her long lashes fluttering again. “Oh yes, my baron. A husband must be assured what a good boy he is. What a good, obedient, lovey dovey dummy he is to his beloved wife. Otherwise, he might get the most silly ideas in his head.”

Lukas felt his cheeks redden at the degrading words, even if they weren’t addressed to him. And he found his eyes looking at Clarissa’s breasts again. Big and soft. The subtle heave as she breathed. Or rather, the not so subtle. Looked like she was as into the discussion as he was.

“Er, right. Sure,” Lukas said, taking another sip of tea, sinking back into his seat with a sigh. “So, not her.”

“Oh no, my baron. You deserve so much better. So much bustier! So much more loving and adoring. A sweet wife who would show you what a good boy you are. Who would let you adore her like the happy, dopey husband you were always meant to be.”

“Er, yes. Yes. But uh… Who is the next one?”

“Oh yes, my baron. That would be the Countess Francesca,” Clarissa said, turning the next page. “But she wouldn’t make an appropriate wife for you either my lord.”

“Hm?” Lukas said, taking another sip, barely paying attention as he watched Clarissa’s breasts bounce. “She wouldn’t? Why… why not?”

“Oh my baron! Why, she does not want children.”

“O-oh,” Lukas said as he took another long drink of his tea. “Yes, that might… might be a problem. Need an heir…”

“Oh no, my baron. Not just one.”

“S-sorry?”

Clarissa gave him a knowing look. “Why, my dear baron, your wife must bear you many children! A dozen at least. A dozen happy, lovely children. Your wife needs to be very eager to take your virile seed. Because I know, my dear baron, that you’re far too much a stud to be satisfied with just one child. That you would like nothing more than to breed your beloved wife at every opportunity. To make her breasts so big… so heavy… so creamy and soft that you can’t help but play with them and kiss them every night.”

Lukas stared at her breasts. Gods, he could imagine it. Imagine those breasts bouncing. Heaving. Wobbling and Clarissa positively glowing from… from…

But… but no. He… he needed to only think of… of his wife like that. Yes. Only his wife. His beloved wife, whoever… whoever it turned out to be.

“I uh…”

“Oh dear, my baron,” Clarissa sighed, closing the folder dramatically, crossing her arms beneath her jiggling bust. “This just won’t do! It seems like there isn’t a noble woman in the land who can satisfy all your needs. A woman so busty. So loving. So beautiful and fertile to satisfy your very high standards.”

“I… y-yes. No one…”

“Oh!” Clarissa suddenly said, brightening visibly. “But then, of course! How silly of me. I didn’t think of that at all! Why, you don’t need a noblewoman for your wife.”

“I… I don’t?” Lukas said, frowning a little, brow wrinkling in concentration. Didn’t he? He was under the impression that was important…

“Oh no, my beloved baron,” Clarissa cooed as she planted her hands on the table, climbing onto it and crawling towards him, pendulous breasts swaying teasingly, her eyes hot, molten with something that made Lukas’s pulse quicken and pound. “Not at all. Why, if the noble stock isn’t up to the standards, then we must simply find another who is. One who is capable of seeing the greatness in you. The handsomeness. The virile… powerful… studliness in you.”

Lukas found himself instinctively retreating, pressing into the back of his chair, watching his maid move towards him like a she-wolf on the hunt. “Wh-who?”

“Now that is the question, isn’t it, my baron,” Clarissa giggled, straightening so she was kneeling on the desk in front of him, her hands cupping her breasts, fondling and massaging them teasingly. “She’d have to know your domain inside and out. She’d have to have every servant in the house already under her thumb. She’d have to know the ways you love things done. She’d have to be so pretty… so clever… so very… very… busty that you just couldn’t say no to her. Every idea she had would just seem like the bestest idea ever. Oops! Did I say breastest?”

“D-did you?” Lukas said, fairly drooling as he watched her bounce and mold her breasts together.

“Maybe I should have, hmm?” Clarissa said. “Because I know how much my baron loves breasts. Big… bouncy… soft breasts. That’s why I know he’ll make the right choice. I know he’ll decide on exactly the right person to be his baroness. To be his loving wife. His devoted mistress. His gorgeous… bouncy… beautiful bride. But who, my baron? Who is busty and smart and beautiful enough for that.”

“Wh-who?” Lukas gasped.

“Think hard, my baron,” Clarissa crooned.

Lukas tried to. He really did. But his mind just didn’t seem to want to cooperate. Every thought he had swirled and squished and bounced and wobbled like Clarissa’s breasts. He whimpered, biting his lower lip, trembling with need as his maid continued to massage her breasts, her buttons straining against her ample tit flesh until… until…

“Mmmm,” Clarissa moaned, tearing open the front of her uniform, her ample, pale breasts spilling into the open. Bouncing with heavy softness. Nipples dark accents to their creamy slopes.

Lukas gasped, jolting like from a physical blow as her breasts bounced free.

“Whoops!” Clarissa giggled. “Did I do that?”

“Y-you… you…” Lukas stammered.

Clarissa’s smile widened. “Me, my lord?” she said coyly. “You want me to be your gorgeous baroness?”

Lukas blinked blankly, his sloshing thoughts struggling. “I…”

“Well, it is true, my lord,” Clarissa cooed, her leg extending, foot pressing against his chest and pushing him and his chair back with a squeak. “I am so very smart. So very beautiful. So very…” she breathed, sliding off the desk, into his lap, Lukas groaning as her weight settled on the hardness of his tenting cock. “Very…” Clarissa moaned as she leaned forward, her ample titflesh pressing against his face. “...Busty…”

Lukas shuddered, inhaling, breathing in the heady scent of Clarissa’s breasts and body. A scent so potent and strong it made his toes curl. Sweet. Heavy and wonderful. Something so real. So potent. The jasmine stuffing his nose. Suffocating his thoughts. And with… with just a faint hint of cream…

“Oh, but whatever would society say,” Clarissa groaned, her hips rocking, rubbing herself upon his thick cock, making Lukas moan and pant under her as his cock throbbed with need. As her breasts squished his face between them and Clarissa’s weight ground him under her. “They might say such terrible things…”

“Ohhhh,” Lukas groaned.

“You’re so right, my baron,” Clarissa giggled. “True love overcomes all odds. And oh, but you do love me, my baron. You do love my big… soft… breasts. And I love you. Loved you so much I tried all sorts of alraune perfumes before I found the one that just. Makes. You. Melt.”

“Mmmm,” Lukas moaned as he inhaled deeply.

“And you love my wonderful, clever mind, don’t you?” Clarissa cooed as she gave her breasts a bounce, swirling his thoughts again to a lather. “So smart to think of buying that holstaur cream for your tea. So clever to know how malleable it makes a good boy. How needy and aroused by big breasts it makes him. How adoring and dumb. How needy and horny and obedient.

“But there is something bigger than my breasts, my baron,” Clarissa moaned as she squeezed her tits around his head. “Oh yes! Believe it. And that is my warm, adoring heart. Perfectly made for my darling baron. Utterly devoted to him. Because I know, my beloved baron, how haaaaard it is for you to think with me around. How distracted you get from a big… soft… pair of breasts. How hard it is for you to rule. You’re not suited for it, my lord. You’re just suited to be a lovey dovey bimbo. A perfect, obedient stud to your darling wife. And oh, my baron, do you really want me? Do you really need me?”

Lukas whimpered beneath his maid, his mind whirling. Drunk on lust and love and heavenly cream and her body. His hands trembled as they touched her, stroking her hips and rump. Touching her back and causing Clarissa to lean forward and bounce teasingly atop him, his chair creaking.

“Oh my baron. If you begged me, then, well, maybe,” Clarissa giggled. “If you told me how much you loved me, how much you need me, then maybe I’d believe you. Maybe I could be convinced to make you my adoring husband. My sweet, brainless stud of a man who’d do anything his busty wife said. Shall we try, my baron?”

“Mmmm,” Lukas moaned into her breasts.

“Let’s,” Clarissa crooned.

Lukas gasped as her breasts came off his face. He blinked dully as he found Clarissa smiling down at him, gaze smoldering and smirk hot with desire.

“I…” Lukas said.

“I want you, my baron,” Clarissa breathed. “Don’t you want me too?”

The note of hot passion in her tone dashed any effort of resistance from him. Lukas’s mouth trembled and he nodded, the truth escaping him in a panting gasp.

“Y-yes,” he said. “W-want you.”

“Do you, my baron?” Clarissa cooed as her hips rose, her hands teased down his chest and to his crotch, Lukas gasping as her fingers played with his bulge, undoing his zipper. “Do you want to fuck your beautiful bride? Propose to her and fuck her and breed her glorious pussy?”

“Y-yes!” Lukas whimpered, his cock springing into the open, a shock of pure ecstasy surging through him as her fingers wrapped around his length. “C-Clarissa, I… I…”

“Oh my baron,” Clarissa giggled, leaning in closer, her molten eyes hot, her rouged lips soft, enunciating every word as he felt his cock guided under the tickling hem of her skirt, brush the smooth skin of her inner thigh, drawn towards the heat of her naked pussy. “Just say… I do.”

“I… I… d-dooooo!” Lukas groaned, head falling back as Clarissa’s body eased down, his cock swallowed in the warm tightness of her pussy. His face buried again under the buxom softness of her ample tits.

“Mmmmm!” Clarissa moaned, her hips rocking, riding her atop his cock with slow, passionate motions that sent throbbing ecstasy radiating through his body and manhood. “Ohhhh my baaaaron! Yes! Yes! I will! I’ll be your baroness! I’ll be your gorgeous wife! Your perfect lover! Your loving, breedable bride. Ah. Ah! Oh goddess yes! Fuck me! Fill me with your cock!”

Lukas groaned beneath her, his lips kissing and licking her breasts, lost in the creamy valley of her tits, trapped in the ecstasy of her figure and the seemingly endless ampleness of her bouncy breasts. His cock throbbed in her, squeezed by her adoring inner walls. Heat consumed him. Pleasure subsumed him.

It was so good. So perfect. He couldn’t break free. Couldn’t resist. The need to cum surged within him. Devoured him. Urged him towards the inevitability of climax. He panted, gasping, moaning under her.

“Yes!” Clarissa gasped. “Oh my baron! Oh my husband! Yes! Fuck me! Fill me! Stuff me full of your cum! Ohhhhh my baron! I neeeed it! Need your mnnn! Your cum! Ah. Yes. Yes! Cum in me, Lukas. Cum in your bride! Fuck me! Breed me! Now! Breed me… nooooow!”

Her voice rose, a crescendo of shameless pleasure, her inner walls tightening, flexing, squeezing his cock with the glory of her peak. As her breasts shuddered around his head, Lukas cried out, surrendering to her pleasure, his cock throbbing, his balls tightening.

And he came.

Blessed release seemed to burst within him. Sear him. Devour him. His cock surrendered to her, filling her in sharp bursts of heady pleasure.

Lukas moaned, lost in her breasts. Lost in the pleasure. Floating in a sea of creamy ecstasy and delight, his mind sinking under waves of soft, bouncy bliss.

Atop him, Clarissa cooed, giggling as she felt him sag, lost beneath her breasts. Her arms wrapped around her new husband’s head, pulling him deeper into her bosom as she looked about the study. Ugh. Such depressing decoration. She’d have to get it cleaned out. And the room would make such a lovely nursery too.

She giggled, admiring the dazed expression of her former master as she smothered him beneath her breasts. She couldn’t wait for the wedding. Especially since she promised that holstaur priestess and her alraune friend they could be her bridesmaids. After all, when one was looking for a husband, one needed a foot in the door. And she just knew her beloved betrothed had some friends in need of busty, brainwashing brides.

Clarissa hummed contentedly, lazily rocking her hips, feeling Lukas’s cock stir anew within her, ready for round two.

Mmm.

All too easy for a clever, busty girl like her…

[lostonmari]

Stop Being a Victim.

A lot of y'all may be real mad at me.. but it must be said. Some of you are ADDICTED to suffering. There. I said it. I love the LOAss community, but sometimes some of yall need somebody to just yank you up by the collar of your shirt and get you together because the things some of yall say and do makes me wonder if you're actually even serious about wanting to manifest 😭

- Long, maybe encouraging rant below the cut.

I understand everyone has different struggles in their lives, so I'm sympathetic, but at some point... when do YOU take accountability and responsibility for yourself? What is the point of consuming LOA content all day and NEVER applying it? What is the point of asking coaches, bloggers, LOA twt accounts, 50 questions a day and NEVER applying it or listening to their advice?

YOU have to stand up. YOU have to stop letting life happen TO YOU and start MAKING it happen YOURSELF. Being passive is NOT something that will get you what you want when you're coming from an unfavorable mindset. No, I don't mean you have to go get a job to "MaNiFeSt" the money you've been affirming for. You never have to lift a finger for your manifestations (unless it's inspired action.) BUT, I am saying, you need to be consistent and stop the back and forth. Quit wavering!

You affirm for one day then you say it's not working. You affirm for a week then you say it's not working. You affirm for three months, you affirm 50000 times, you listen to a subliminal, you script, all of these things.. but you still say it's not working. It's NOT WORKING because YOU aren't letting it work! If YOU HAVE IT, then it is DONE! You don't have to check, you don't have to run around in circles or dance around a bonfire naked at the crack of dawn, YOU JUST HAVE TO LET IT BE. If you affirm, if you set your intention, repeat your visualizations, do SATS every night til the cows come home... No matter the method you use, all you have to know is that it is DONE. Let it be and let it happen. Stop causing your own delay then blaming manifestation or saying the law of assumption doesn't work.

And yes, it is the same when manifesting an SP or changing someone's behavior. HOW do you expect Mr. Man or Miss Woman or Mx Human to change when you are sitting there complaining to your bestie about how annoying they are, how they never do this, how they never do that? You are reaffirming what you DON'T want. Oh, wait now let me guess you found out SP has a partner now you're complaining to your friend about how you never get what you want or you'll never find your dream man/woman. SHUT UP! Just. KEEP. PERSISTING. IF you want him/her, then HE/SHE IS YOURS. Neville himself said IT BEST! "If it takes one person or ten thousand to aid the birth of your assumption, they will come." Don't give up just because of a minor inconvenience. You are GOD! Who is more perfect for your SP than you?

"But what if I have intrusive thoughts... I can't affirm or visualize" You have most likely had intrusive thoughts your whole life. Have you ever actually walked out in front of a train? Did you ever stab someone? No? Alright then. If you overthink THAT much, just affirm that your intrusive thoughts DON'T manifest. It's that simple. The point of an intrusive thought is that it's unwanted. You are not consciously persisting in those thoughts. You don't have to be afraid of them.

The point is. YOU are always in control. YOU always have the final say. If YOU say it works, then it works. Your desire will come to fruition. But you have to stop letting every single thing make you waver. You have to stop letting every person's limiting belief make you doubt yourself. You are GOD! Act like it and give yourself the life you deserve. You don't HAVE to suffer. You don't HAVE to be unhappy. You can change at ANY TIME. You just have to want it.

[its-in-the-woods]

Coyote Head - Part 6 - Postcard Perfect

master list

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

Pairing: Cooper Howard x Lucy Maclean 

Includes many other characters from Fallout

Synopsis: So much can happen in one morning. A picture perfect moment, and meeting with a ex.

MINOR GET OUT. Rating/Warning:  Animal/people death,, Alternative Universe, Slow Burn, Death, Aging, Family Feuding, Older Man/Younger Woman

Note: that I will not be spoiling any of the reading. So you have been warned. I will keep my tags relevant without spoiling what is happening in the story.

*Actually pretty fluffy... for now.. enjoy

The next three days go by fast, cow checks happen every four hours, every day, like clockwork. Morning, afternoon, dinner, and then two overnight. Cooper handles the ones during daylight hours, his brother Mark handles the night ones. Lucy was grateful for that, not that she slept much, between nightmares and random knocks on the house. She’d kept most of that to herself, but Cooper had noticed, he noticed a lot of things. He'd even offered to do the first shift so she could sleep in, but she, of course, refused. The routine meant she got a moment out of the house, it also meant she got to hang out with the kids. 

Matthias still wasn’t her biggest friend, but his guard was lowering slowly. On Friday, when Cooper brought the kids over after school, he had handed Lucy a drawing. For being twelve he was pretty talented. He’d taken the time to draw a field, cows, and calves with the sun setting in the background. Lucy had thanked him and promptly put it up on the fridge which granted her, her first real smile from him. She’d do anything to hug him, but for now, she’d take the picture. She knew what it felt like to be young and not understand why a parent was gone. To not understand why things had changed suddenly. Lucy was just grateful that he had Cooper, what she would have done to have had at least one parent with her. Even though she loved her Grandparents, it was never the same without either of her parents. 

Janey was a whole different story, she loved to tell stories, and read stories. When she had discovered that she could read from Lucy’s bookshelves she was over the moon. Lucy doing her best to persuade her from anything too adult-themed. Settling on a classic, Hobbit. Cooper had shrugged in agreement, mentioning that she had always loved to read as soon as she learned. So Lucy let the copy go, the little girl was immediately taken by it. 

Lucy woke up Saturday morning having finally slept, she actually felt somewhat refreshed. Her mind was always wandering to Cooper. The more time she spent with him, the more she wanted to spend time with him. Even though they were nearly living out of each other's pockets, she couldn't help herself. Mind wandering to what kissing him would feel like, how his hands would hold her. Lucy flushed and finished getting herself dressed in comfortable clothes and made her way to make a pot of coffee. Feeling her feet get wet as she walked into the water.

“What the-” Lucy cussed, as she lifts her foot to inspect a large pool of water. “Dang-nabbit.” 

She runs back to her room digging out a handful of towels and toeing off her socks before running back to the kitchen. Lucy lays out the towels on the floor, scrambling to open up the under-sink cupboards. The various detergents and cleaners are thrown out as she tries to see what’s leaking. The space emptied, so she could see that the pipes had been split. 

“My goodness, why!” Lucy grumbles, realizing that the pipes had split just on the other side of the shut-off valves. 

She gets up too quickly and bangs her head on the underside of the sink. More words fall out of her mouth as she rubs the bump. Moving swiftly to the door she unlocks it and walks out, stepping around the rocks and stones as she goes to the side of the house. Swinging open the crawl space door she ducks in, happy that the water shut-off valve was inside. Lucy turns it off, her feet covered in the black mud as she stomps back into her house. Lucy closes her eyes for a moment to collect herself, before she starts to mop up the water that’s left on the floor. 

“Lucy?” Cooper’s voice comes in from the doorway.  

“Just in the kitchen,” Lucy replies, happy that help has finally arrived. 

“What’s goin’ on?” Cooper says, placing his hat on a nob by the front door. Walking into the room to observe the mess that was spread out onto the floor. 

Lucy sighs, as she drops the last towel into the sink. “The pipes under the sink burst, split just on the wrong side of the shut-off too.”

Cooper crouches right beside her, the smell of cigarettes and coffee wafting off of him. Lucy shuffled over so that he could see what they were working on.

“Well that’s weird,” Cooper squints, leaning forward to kneel on a rolled-up towel. “Never seen that happen before. Unless it froze, which would be odd for the beginnin’ of April.”

Lucy sighs, rubbing at her head, “Everything is insulated, and the heat tape is still on it. Plus it would have burst other pipes too.”

“Move’er, sweetheart,” Cooper murmurs, Lucy shifts over, as Cooper crawls into the cupboard pulling a pocket knife out of his pants. 

Lucy swallowed as his shirt rode up a sliver of tanned skin being exposed. Lucy feeling like she was fourteen seeing a boy shirtless for the first time, averting her eyes she chooses to stand up. Looking around trying to figure out how to hide the flush that was now staining her cheeks as the man fiddled around under the sink.

“Do you want coffee?” Lucy asked moving over to the cupboard to dig out cups. “I got a spare to-go mug.”

“Yeah, s’good.” Cooper said, voice echoing from below her. “Do ya’know if you got some spare PEX pipe hanging around?”

A knock on the door, had Lucy spilling coffee on her hand, Cooper banged his head under the sink. A whole slew of curse words spilling out of both of them, Lucy moves to the door. Completely forgetting with the mess that Dane was coming over to work on the tractors. 

“Lucy,” Dane says, a smile fading from their face as she takes in Lucy. “Oh, shit. Are you okay?”

Lucy tries to smile which turns into more of a frown, “Pipe burst. My kitchen is a mess, but I have coffee?”

Dane chuckles, looking into the kitchen Cooper standing with a pieces of Pex in his hand, his other hand rubbing at his head. The two of them give awkward smiles at each other. 

“Oh! This is Cooper.” Lucy said, wandering back into the kitchen to pour three cups of coffee. “Cooper, this is Dane, they have come over to work on Tim’s old tractors.”

Cooper nodded, reaching a hand out to shake Dane’s, “Nice to meet you Dane, please excuse the mess, pipes seem t'have burst.”

“Not a problem, at least there is always coffee.” Dane nods, happily accepting the coffee Lucy hands over. 

“There is sugar in the gnome on the counter, cream is in the fridge.” Lucy says, handing Copper his mug of coffee. 

Cooper took a few sips, before helping Lucy place things in somewhat order on the counter. Lucy takes all the sopping wet towels into the laundry room hucking them into the washing machine. 

“We do have calf check, but I can show you where the tractors are. There is pretty much any tool you could need, along with an arrangement of parts.” Lucy chatters, as the trio make their way to the door.

Across the yard the three go to the big green and grey barn, Cooper helps slide the heavy wood doors open, Lucy had worked hard to get the place functional. It hadn’t had many animals in it, Tim had turned it into a workshop, engine hoist, and a large tool bench. The two tractors are slotted side by side. 

“This is perfect!” Dane beams, coming over to inspect the two beasts. “They look brand new! I bet I'll have them running by end of the day.”

“Thank you so much, Dane.” Lucy smiles, “I'll leave the house open, help yourself to whatever you need. We'll be about an hour or so barring any problems. You can always text me.”

Cooper was digging around on some shelving, grabbing some PEX pipe, fitting, and a few tools. “These should fix'd problem, I will drop’em off inside before we head out.”

Dane and Lucy stand there watching Cooper walk away. Lucy’s cheeks flush as she admires the man. Dane looks at Lucy, rubbing at the side of their face. 

“So are you two,” Dane makes a gesture between Cooper and Lucy, “A thing? Or?”

Lucy feels her face go even more red, she looks away for a moment, before looking back at her friend. “Umm, no. We are friends, neighbors. Helping each other out and whatnot.”

Dane chuckles as they go over to the closer tractor, “I am not one to judge,” Lucy watches them opening up one of the tractor’s bonnet. “Has he told you what happened to his wife?” 

Tilting her head to the side Lucy raises her eyebrows. “I know he is a widower. But I haven’t pushed any further than that.”

Dane nods, already starting to fiddle with different parts, “I’d ask him about it. Especially if you’re -ah- interested.”

A pool of anxiety fills Lucy’s stomach at the words, “Yeah, I will ask him.”

“We ready to go?” Cooper asks, Lucy nearly jumping at his voice having not heard him come up behind her. 

Lucy puts on a smile, reminding Dane again to call if there is any issue before leaving with Cooper. The man moving at a good clip to the already running truck. He opens the door for Lucy, she smiles and slides into the seat. It was hard not to let her mind run over Dane’s words. She needed to ask him, or she was going to explode. She wasn't good with secrets, or not asking questions she wanted answers to.

“Umm,” Lucy fiddles with the gloves in her pocket as they roll down the gravel road. “Can I ask you a question?”

Cooper’s brows are raised as he turns to her, “Yeah, I am an open book Luc.”

Lucy licks her lips, staring at the newly leafing trees, “Can I ask what happened to your wife?” 

Oh good Lucy, just straight to the point. No tack, for this poor guy who lost his wife, whose kids are still emotionally wrecked from it, Lucy thought to herself. Wishing she'd learn more tack as an adult.

Cooper shifts, sliding in his chair a little as he looks out the window. Lucy half expected him not to answer, or tell her that it was something he didn’t want to talk about. He gripped the steering wheel tight, knuckles white against the black leather.  Eyes focus on the gravel road ahead of them as he searches for the words.

“I was outta town, helpin’ my brother-in-inlaw move cows to summer pasture. I got a call around four from Barb’s parents, sayin’ she hadn’t come to pick up the kids. They’d gone to the house and she wasn’t t’either. Barb was a champion rider, Thunder, was’er ride. Big beautiful deep black stallion, she rode’im three times a day. Mornin' after droppin’ the kids off, afternoon before the kids came home, and evenin’ after dinner.” Cooper rolled his shoulders as they drove into the field. Lucy jumping out to open the gate, climbing back in once he was through and the gate was closed.

“I went’ome, drove way faster than I shoulda. But Barb. Barb was never late, the woman was punctual to a fault. So we searched, and searched, called the police. More searchin’. We had about forty acres mostly forest’d that Barb rode. That entire area scavenged, the house turn’d upside down, the barn gone through. They picked apart everythin’.” Cooper’s voice was shaking as they drove towards the herd. His eyes are glassy, as he rubs the back of his hand over his nose. 

“They tried-” His voice shook as his eyes continued to scan the horizon. “They tried’t blame her disappearance on me.”

Lucy felt her heart clench in her chest at the words, the thought that he’d been accused of his wife’s disappearance made her stomach turn.  

“But I was in another county, my brother-in-law, thankfully, vouchin for me.” Cooper points at a fresh calf, the two working with practice ease to tag the little thing.  

Cooper sat in the truck for a moment, eyes flickering, “Then we found Thunder.” Cooper works his lip into his mouth for a moment. “He’s on the side of the highway, inna ditch. Over a hour drive away from t’farm. Looked like he had been dumped. It made no sense, wasn't any sign of how the animal had pasted either, just restarted’eir investigation into me.” 

“Cooper,” Lucy said quietly, her hand finding his hand on the bench seat and squeezing it. 

Cooper nods his head but continues, squeezing her hand back. “They wouldn’t lay off, I did everythin’ to cooperate. Then after the third time of them tossin’ my house I blew up. I gotta lawyer, I told’em not to come back t’my property.” Another tag, and Lucy feels dizzy by the foggy emotions flooding the truck as she sits back down. 

“They’d everythin’ to turn everyone against me.” Cooper blinks a few times, “My in-laws stood beside me, pushin for the police to look anywhere. But nothin’ came of it. Just no answers, nothin', just gone.” 

Lucy brushed her own tears out of her eyes, so many questions bubbling under the surface. His hands gripping the steering wheel as he parked the truck on top of the hill looking out towards the valley. 

“T’was too hard to stay, the whole town won’t look at me.” Cooper swallows, “It won’t hav’been so bad if it has just been me, but they came after the kids too. Mathias was gettin’ picked on. That was the final straw, sold everything and left. They never figured out what happen’d to Barb. I think about her every day. Wondering what I could've done different.”

The silence in the vehicle was deafening, the two of them watching the cattle move along the lower field. Lucy’s heartbreaking hearing how Cooper had lost so much with no answers. 

“Thank you for telling me,” Lucy said quietly, her hand finding his again. “I can’t imagine how hard this must have been for you. To have to leave everything the two of you built.”

Cooper nods, his fingers lacing with Lucy’s, “t’was hard, I keep waitin’ for it to get easier. For there to be answers.”  Cooper turns looking at Lucy, hazel eyes looking over her face. “I am goin’ to be forward here.” Lucy nods her head, willing to hear whatever he had to say to her. “You’ve been a bright spot for me, I look forward to this.”

He gestures at the pasture, the sun hanging in the sky, clouds drifting in. Cows mooing for their calves, as the calves chased each other through the freshly growing green grass. It was so serene, postcard-worthy her Granddad would have said. 

“I look forward to spending time with you, Lucy,” Cooper states, eyes watching her closely, as the sunrises into the truck cab.

Lucy took her shot and slid across the bench seat, Cooper looking at her eyes wide as she leans in. Her hand gently touches the side of his face, the beard stubble rubbing under her fingertips as she presses her lips against his. Lucy going to lean away, when Cooper doesn't respond, Cooper immediately moves after her. Something has snapped in the truck, Cooper easily pulling Lucy onto his lap. She pushes his hat up so she can kiss him deeper, her hands moving up into his hair as he pulls Lucy against his chest. Lucy sucking his tongue into her mouth, the taste of coffee and cigarettes flooding in. His large hands come to rest against her hips, fingers running along the top of her jeans. 

Cooper breaks the kiss, Lucy wanting to chase after it, scared that if they stop it won’t continue. The smile crossing his face has her pausing, Lucy worrying her lip into her mouth. Copper’s fingers pushing under her shirt to feel her skin. A shiver running over Lucy’s skin at the feel of his calloused warm hands. 

“This isn’t how I imagined it,” Cooper hushes, his tongue running over his bottom lip as he looks at her. 

Lucy raises her eyebrows, “Oh? What did you imagine? Would it be weird if I said I was thinking about you too?”

Cooper’s smile gets bigger, “Was going to invite ya to the spring dance. Felt a little, ahh, school crush, but I want’d a reason for-” Cooper swallows, “A reason for us t’go somewhere nice.”

She can feel her cheeks red at the statement, “I’d go with you. If you still want to go.”

Cooper leans in and kisses her gently, “I’d like that Lucy.” 

***

Dane is covered in grease, a smile on their face as the larger of the two tractors starts up. Black smoke pumps out as the machine stutters to life, Dane doing a fist pump and jig as it roars. Lucy grins as Dane hops up and takes it for a spin around the yard, before parking it just outside the barn.

“Well, that one is running well. Have to get the attachments dug out, make sure the PTO is working the way it should be.” Dane beams, walking over to Lucy who has a sandwich on a plate for them. 

“I cannot thank you enough for getting it running again Dane,” Lucy replies, “I think the smaller shed has some attachments if you’re up for taking them out.”

“Yeah, I am gonna let this one run for a bit, I think I am going to need to source a few parts for the second one,” Dane says walking into the barn, holding up the pieces of what was supposed to be a part. “I’d normally make something, but this has to be calibrated properly.”

Lucy nodded, “Get what you need, I am not too surprised there are parts that need to be replaced. Whatever is needed, got to get’em running properly.”

Dane nodded, washing her hands with the hose before grabbing the sandwich, “I will keep at it, thank you for the food by the way.”

“Of course, and make sure you invoice me for everything, k?” Lucy states, Dane nodding as they continue to eat the food. 

Lucy walks back towards the house, head-turning up when she hears a car coming down the drive. A small blue Nissan rolling down the gravel, Lucy stopping in the middle of her drive to see who the hell it was. The car stops door opening up as Max steps out; average height, with tight black hair, dark skin, and equally dark eyes.

“Max?” Lucy asks as if she isn’t looking right at the man. He stands there awkwardly, not really smiling but not frowning either. He straightens himself up and closes the door walking towards her. 

“Hey Lucy,” Max grimaces awkwardly, rubbing a hand over the tight black curls on his head, “Sorry, it’s taking so long to get here.”

Crossing her arms, Lucy narrows her eyes at him. “What are you talking about?”

Max stops a few feet away from her, arms resting against his slides, “I wanted to come see you, it’s been a few months since we spoke.”

Lucy walks forward, anger pooling in the pit of her stomach, jaw clenching as she stares down her ex. “Yeah, 'cause we broke up. You didn’t want me moving back up here. Actually, I am pretty sure you said if I left not to bother contacting you. Seemed pretty cut and dry to me.”

Max opens his mouth several times before closing it, gritting his teeth and looking away. “I didn’t think you’d actually stop contacting me. We’d been together for almost a year.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Lucy huffs, her voice shaking, their relationship hadn’t been great. They’d met at the imaging clinic, Max was shy and a little awkward but charming. They’d hit it off over lunch one day, which led to him inviting her out to go with him for dinner. He was the opposite of what she had grown up around, it had been appealing at the time. Over time the charm had faded, and the sicker her Granddad got the worse their relationship got. It ended up with Max telling her that if she moved away they were done.

“Lucy, sweety,” Max goes to move to touch her and Lucy backs away. Max’s face falling, his mouth set in a thin line.

Throat clearing has both of them turning, Cooper stood on the front porch shirtless staring down Max like he was going to blow his head off with a glare. Lucy’s mouth opening slightly at the tan skin exposed before her, trying to get herself to focus on what was happening. 

“Not sure the lady here,” Cooper states walking down the steps towards them, “Is interested in your company.”

Max looks equally as flustered as Cooper steps beside Lucy, eyes downcast as his cheeks flush.

“I just wanted some closure.” Max swallows, looking away from the two of them. “Maybe change Lucy’s mind.”

Lucy let out a sigh, moving towards Max, carefully putting a hand on his shoulder. “Max, you’re a good guy, but we both know this wasn’t going to work out. You hate the outdoors and bugs, and you’re allergic to hay.”

Cooper had taken a few steps back, well-muscled arms crossed his chest as he watched the two of them. Dane had made their way down the hill, brows furrowing at the clear standoff happening. Max’s shoulders were tight as he listened to Lucy’s words.

“Is this what you want?” Max said finally turning back to her, his eyes glazing at the words. “Like to be here? On the farm.”

A tight-lipped smile graces Lucy’s face. “Yes Max, I think you knew that though. Knew it won’t work out between us.”

Max looks at the company in front of him, his hands fiddling with the pockets of his pants. Head ducked down like he was trying to make himself smaller. He nods his head several times. 

“Well, I guess that settles that,” He twitches his nose, looking out towards the forest. “I am staying in town for a few days, just visiting family. You got my number still?”

Lucy nods her head, desperately wanting to make things right, but knowing that it wasn’t worth it. Things needed to end between them, and if he needed to drive three hours to figure that out then so be it. 

“Goodbye, Max,” Lucy said quietly, Max nodding as he got back into his car to drive out. Her stomach turning, the thought that this wouldn’t be the last time she saw him gnawing at her mind.   

Part Seven

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Tag list: @toogaytofunctiondangit

*I can't believe we are 6 chapters in, this one is slow, but hold onto your hats for chapter 7!

**As always likes, comments, shares are soooo appreciated, you can find me Ao3 as well

** Want to be on the tag list let me know

[cheatr-cheatr-pumpkin-eatr]

Yellowstone!Ryan · Reader

!Disclaimer! This will have swearing, the character is already in a relationship with Ryan and will be female.

___________________________

____ let out a sigh as she sat at the table, her head resting on the table, to the left of her sat her boyfriend, Ryan, who was sitting at the head of the table dealing cards.

"Would you stop eating that fucking garbage? Dinners almost ready." Teeter said from in front of the stove, stirring a large pot.

"You're wasting your time, Teeter, no one is gonna eat a thing that you cook." Ryan replied. ____ rolled her eyes and kicked her boyfriend's leg from under the wooden table. Ryan let out a 'ow' and looked towards her for answers. The girl in question just smiled sweetly at him before letting her head fall back onto the table.

"When does Gator get back?" Colby whined. ____ looked up from her hands and towards Teeter who was currently making some kind of concoction since Gator had to go somewhere else for a while.

"Thursday, I think" ____ replied. Colby looked towards her with a pleading look. She blew some air out making her bangs fly out than fall back onto her face.

"Thursday?" He asked, both her and Ryan nodded as Colby groaned and leaned back into his chair. "Oh, I'm going to be dead by then." He spoke. ____ huffed a laugh. "I can already feel my organs shutting down. Walker, you know any hunger songs?" Colby asked the guitarist. Walker shook his head with a 'No'.

____ looked towards the musician and saw Laramie hanging off him. She rolled her eyes at the barrel racer and glanced towards Lloyd, knowing the history between him and Laramie. The older man was staring at the two in distaste.

____ looked away when Teeter walked towards Colby with a bowl of whatever the fuck she made. "Oh um... No, I'm good..." He said, pushing to bowl Teeter had set in front of him away. The woman sighed and pushed the bowl back. "Come on baby, I keep cooking and you keep not eating." She said, "I need you strong for later."

____ glanced around the table, eyes finding Ryan when he broke. "Fuck it, I'm so hungry I'll eat anything right now." He grabbed the bowl and spoon filled with the mysterious, chunky stew, putting it in his mouth, "Oh, I wouldn't, it's probably gonna be..." Colby started while everyone gathered around.

"Come on. Don't fuckin' lie." Teeter said.

"Good or bad?"

"It's fucking great. " Ryan responded, everyone immediately stood up to get some, Teeter trailing behind.

Teeter came back with two more bowls a few minutes later. She placed one in front of ____ who smiled gratefully at her friend, Teeter than sat the other down next to Colby trying to at least get him to eat something. ____ picked up the spoon and started to eat.

"What's in it?" Colby said looking into Ryans bowl.

 "Everything baby." Teeter replied from the stove.

Ryan and Colby when back and forth on what could be in the stew, ____ looked between the two laughing quietly. 

"What do you call it?" Ryan said looking back at Texan.

"Sum bits." she replied. Jake spit the soup out immediately after. ____ cocked an eyebrow at him, putting another spoonful of stew into her mouth. "For fuck sakes." Jack said wiping his mouth with his shirt sleeve. 

"What's that mean?"

"It means it's good for you." ____ replied. 

"What does that mean?" Colby questioned again.

"Literally everything from the cow that nobody else wants." Jake responded bluntly, "It's the whole cow."

"You mean everything in the cow?" Colby asks looking to Ryan for an answer.

Ryan nods, "Evidently."

____ sighed and rolled her eyes at the boys, moving the stew around with her spoon, "I got an eyeball." she said lifting it up to show Ryan, who just smiled at her. Colby looked at ____ in disgust when she popped the orb into her mouth, "That is disgusting." ____ just shrugged. "It's not that bad." she said after swallowing.

____ head snapped towards Lloyd when she heard a bowl hit a table. It was quiet for a moment when ____ felt the warm, calloused hand of her boyfriend grab her arm, Lloyd than shoved Walker back with his feet. Everyone stood up and ____ felt the hand leave her skin when Laramie punched Lloyd. Ryan and Colby were at Lloyd's side in seconds to hold him back from causing any more problems.

The Bunkhouse door slammed open making everyone go quiet. ____ looked towards the now open door to see a fuming Rip. The man looked over everyone, eyes briefly meeting ____ before landing on Lloyd. Ryan shifted back towards ____ and grabbed her hand, the same warm feeling engulfing it, and pulled her body into his. 

"What's the rule about fighting Lloyd?" Rips voice ripped through the air. The man stalked closer to Lloyd before he let out a sigh, "Goddamn you for making me do this." Rip said before raising his fist and punching Lloyd in the face making him fall towards the wooden floor.

____ stiffened when Rip picked Lloyd and threw him across the table, knocking everything off it. Rip then pushed the table towards the counter where ____ and Ryan had been standing. ____eyes widened as Ryans arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her into the counter with him. 

Ryan's legs were split so ____ could fit, her back was pressed up against Ryan's chest and her hands were gripping his arm for dear life. Rip looked at the two before looking at Walker who backed up, "There is no fighting on this ranch," he said, "You want to fight somebody you come fight me." Rip turned away from the chaos and walked towards the door, "I'll fight you all fucking day." He said before slamming the door shut.

____ relaxed after a minute or two of processing what had happened, both her and Ryan were still seated of the counter. She felt Ryan squeeze her waist, "You alright?" he quietly asked. She hummed in response; Ryan nodded in understanding and placed a small kiss on the back of her neck.

[ownworldresident]

Side by Side Chapter 5: Influence

Book: The Royal Romance.

Premise: With new additions to their family, King Liam and Rayne must re-evaluate their relationship dynamic.

Themes: Found family, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, family.

Word Count: 3.2k per chapter, 18 chapters. About 60k.

Note: This story started just after TRR3 ended, and isn't related to TRH. See also Side by Side Masterlist & Master Masterlist Link

After the Homecoming Ball

Rayne

“You could go to them,” she proposed to the table she stood beside. Three sets of eyes landed on her hard, but she couldn’t quite meet them.

“What do you mean?” came Liam’s voice beside her, ever soothing. She smiled, still at the table.

“If you think the court is too concerned to come to the wedding after… after the ball, you could go to them. Convince them that we need to stand strong.” Each word was a little surer. “A personal visit from the King and the…” She swallowed, lifting her gaze to the not-yet-queen, who quirked a brow. Rayne grit her teeth and looked to the Countess directly. She would not be cowed. “The future Queen. That would surely help.”

Only now did she look at them all properly. Constantine considered her words with a frown, Madeleine crossed her arms and watched her like Rayne had stolen her juice box. Liam watched her thoughtfully, before turning to the others.

“That could work.” He tapped his chin. “A show of support, we can unite against the assassins, show them that Cordonia does not and will not bow to such a threat.”

Constantine nodded to his son, a small smile on his face as he then appraised Rayne. Considering his former hostility, this borderline respect was unnerving. Perhaps it was because he had won, and she would not be queen, perhaps it was her significance to Liam, or even their talk during the engagement tour. It seemed unlikely he had simply decided she was suitable for court and consultation.

“We would have to postpone our wedding, darling. That would be tragic.” Feigned hurt, and the need to assert herself, was not a good look on Madeleine, nor was it particularly impressive anymore. Hopefully she would settle once there was a pretty crown on her head. Rayne looked from her to Liam, who’s jaw tightened, and wished she could reach out and touch him. Madeleine spoke again. “I just can’t wait to be married to you.”

“Whilst I appreciate your anticipation, Countess Madeleine,” Constantine addressed her, hands linked behind him, “Lady Rayne’s suggestion has merit. If we can bolster the people’s faith and trust in the monarchy, this could be exactly what we need.”

“And we cannot ask for that trust blindly,” Liam added.

“Precisely.” Constantine nodded, then turned to smile at Rayne. “Thank you for your insight, Rayne.”

It made her uncomfortable when he did not address her with a title.

“Thank you, Your Majesty.”

“Of course it makes sense,” Madeleine spoke up. “Though Rayne’s presence here does not. The attempt was aimed at the monarchy, not the common people.” The look she gave her was nothing new; a quick once over to make sure that yes, Rayne was still the same subpar Laotian-American woman she had always been. With a new appreciation for bullet proof clothing.

“It is an excellent idea,” said Liam, emerging from his thoughts. “We will postpone the wedding to visit each of the noble houses in person, to invite them and to reassure them of our strength.” The careful relief in his voice was apparent to Rayne, and she bit back a wider smile. He nodded to her, then turned to Madeleine. “And to answer your question, the attackers targeted Rayne as well. She has just as much stake in this as we do.”

That was a bold statement, and judging by Madeleine’s scowl, she wasn’t the only one to think so. Silence fell again, then a loud clunk outside jarred Rayne’s thoughts. Clutching the chair back before her, she closed her eyes as the din of the ball returned. The lights going out, tripping and falling, the armoured man with a gun pointed at her face… She grimaced, then a warm hand rested on her shoulder, and drew her back to the room.

“A Unity Tour,” she said quietly, and once again all eyes were on her. “That’s what you could call it.” Liam’s hand squeezed her shoulder gently.

“It’s settled, then,” he said to the room, then turned worried eyes toward her. “Thank you, Rayne.”

Present Day

Liam

After three weeks with his young family, Liam's office seemed alien. No matter how much he wished to still be there, the work had piled up in his absence, and he couldn't postpone it forever.

Some things he did not trust to Madeleine; some she refused to do; and some could only be completed or signed off on by him. It seemed that for every task he could delegate there was another he could not. Letters for consideration, documents that had been through council, minutes for missed meetings, memos from council, things that in an everyday capacity took careful time, but would now take a few days of long hours to properly complete.

Many of the notes and letters were preceded by often lengthy congratulations for him and for Rayne which brightened his mood. He had sorted the work into piles according to complexity, time consumption, and urgency, made lists for himself, and now worked quickly with his assistant bringing in a steady supply of coffee. Hours into his work, the door opened again, and Madeleine walked in.

He hadn’t seen her since their argument the day Evelyn and Leo were born and would have been happy for that to continue.

“Husband,” was her opening. The sweetness of her smile meant this would be an unpleasant interaction. Liam looked at his watch. Still early.

“Good morning.” He sipped his coffee. “Thank you for your work in my absence.”

The corner of her mouth quirked. “No thank you is necessary. As this country’s queen, I take my responsibilities seriously.”

Placing his cup down, Liam leant back in his chair. “Nevertheless, I am grateful.”

“Indeed.” She surveyed his desk and the couch against the wall which was currently serving as a second table. Ordered but still crowded with various tasks. “I have a suggestion to permit you to further prioritise your duties as king. Duties which do not pause for you to assist your mistress and children. One can survive without, and the others do not require your presence at their age.”

Liam breathed deeply and displayed none of the irritation at her reference to Rayne as his mistress, or assumptions about his family.

“Get to the point, Madeleine,” he said coolly, patience fading. She smiled and approached the desk, lifting one of the more complex tasks. He knew it was a holdings-related proposal, and also knew that the first paragraph was a lengthy congratulations, with no mention of Madeleine. She frowned, then schooled a warm smile in an impressive transition, and closed the file.

“For the benefit of all involved, I have appointed a nanny to assist Rayne. She will appreciate this offer, coming from her monarch. If not, you may need to convince her it is the best course. For the good of our country.”

“And what makes you think I would do that, knowing as well as you that she has declined that option in the past?”

“Because you will not be there to help her, and just because she is their biological mother does not make her equipped to care for the heirs to the Cordonian throne. You cheating on your fiancé does not qualify your mistress to raise a monarch.”

“That’s enough,” Liam said firmly, feeling the hot flash of anger. “You know full well we agreed upon my relationship with Rayne over a year ago, as a condition of our engagement that you first proposed, I might add. I never cheated on you. You are out of line.”

She placed down the file and narrowed her eyes.

“I am never out of line, husband.”

“That is where you are wrong. I shouldn’t need to remind you that the power here ultimately rests with me.” Months ago, keeping a clear head when she so clearly intended to provoke him would have been difficult. Her words hit hard, but he had more control over his response than she would like.

“That may be, but much of your power rests in the image you present. The family man, with a generous wife allowing you to legitimise your mistress’s children. The mistress, need I remind you, who was never absolved of her part in the Applewood Manor scandal. What would happen if that image failed?”

“Madeleine…”

“It would be so easy.” She pressed a hand to her chest. “Maybe you have a temper?” Her eyes widened. “Maybe you spend more time in the cellar than previously thought? Maybe certain members of your staff are afraid to be near you in the evening?”

“They would never believe such things.”

“Maybe so, yet it was so easy for the public to believe you were holding Rayne hostage last year.”

Liam’s jaw tightened. “This is blackmail.”

“No, dear.” Madeleine smiled again. “This is security. I gave you three weeks, but I won’t cover for you again. You must commit to your formal duties, which will leave Rayne to care for those two alone. You know she is stubborn enough, but how could you let her suffer?”

He didn’t respond immediately, but met her gaze, mind racing as he tried to escape the box she had forced him into.

“I can split my time effectively.”

“You are running solely on caffeine and it isn’t yet noon. You look as if you haven’t slept in days. You will sacrifice your health, and the country will suffer as a result. You need to let me help her, Liam. And you. And your children.” Madeleine glanced at a photograph at the corner of his desk – a smiling photo of himself and Rayne on tour – and sighed. “The heirs to the Cordonian throne need to be taught right, starting now, by someone who understands the gravity of their responsibilities.”

He cleared his throat and considered her case, sipping his coffee, now cool, and measuring his words. “Rayne is the most capable person I know. I trust her completely in the care and upbringing of her children. Appoint help if you must, but if she refuses, respect that.” They locked eyes for a moment. “I will manage my responsibilities regardless.”

Her resolve shifted then, and she ended the discussion. “When the time comes to choose, I hope you remember that I tried to help you.” She swivelled and left the room.

Liam pressed a thumb and forefinger against his temples, mind echoing with Madeleine’s threats and his responses. The lengths she was already willing to go to in order to manipulate him was potentially a precursor to more serious threats in the future. If Rayne wanted assistance he would source it in a heartbeat, but he doubted that would be her choice. Regardless, they would need to be ready.

Drake

Walking into Rayne’s apartments was like walking into another world. He could see why Liam preferred it. The royal apartments were tall and dark and impressive; every vestibule emitted a sense of grandeur, as if the monarch needed reminding of their own wealth and rank. These apartments were smaller, the ceiling lower, and the whole place bright and warm. Natural light shone through open windows to the expansive room, and only upon conscious observation did he realise the lights weren’t even on. There was so much warmth here, beyond the physical sense, and he felt calmer just being here as he crossed to the window.

Liam still worked in his office, not looking to be finished any time soon, and Drake had thought to offer company to Rayne, meagre as it was, as she adjusted again to his absence. As it occurred to him he didn't know where she was, he registered voices in an adjoining room.

"I appreciate the offer but as I have said, I don’t need another set of hands. I am managing fine."

"I have been appointed by the Queen herself to assist. She wishes to ease the pressure on your shoulders, given King Liam has returned to his duties."

The voices approached from the hall leading the the bedrooms and Rayne stepped in, followed by a young, neatly dressed woman with a kind face. Rayne didn’t seem to notice him at first. She cradled Leo in her arms and faced the woman calmly. Drake stood awkwardly beside the window, unsure whether to announce himself or not, and wondered if she realised the kind of authority she commanded.

"Please thank her for the effort but I assure you it is unnecessary," she said, moving through the room. "If, in the future, I require assistance, I will ask for it." She reached the door to the hall and opened it, turning back to the room. For a brief moment, their eyes met. He smiled awkwardly, and she seemed mildly surprised, then smiled and winked. The young woman seemed to struggle with herself for a moment, and sighed.

"As you wish." She gave Rayne a short bow. "You have my credentials and contact information."

"I do, thank you." Rayne nodded, and ushered out the woman, who paused on the threshold, bowed again, and left. Drake was sure that one was to Leo. Rayne shut the door and turned back.

"Hey, Drake." Rayne rested her cheek against Leo’s head, swaying as she moved away from the door and looking as if she'd been doing this for years, not weeks.

"What was that about?" He asked, gesturing at the door. She rolled her eyes.

"Nothing important. Just our benevolent queen trying to force a nanny down my throat."

He chuckled. "Went well for her."

"I don't know what she expected. That I'll suddenly roll over and submit? Cold day in hell." She glanced at the door, then back with a smirk. "You seem surprised. Expecting more New York Waitress than King Liam’s Mistress?" Her accent was still there, but like his it had been watered down and changed in her time here.

"You know that isn't who you are, right?" he said, settling on the arm of a lounge chair.

"Relax, I'm just teasing. For them, though…" She sighed, then focused on her son as he began a quiet protest. "Shh baby, it’s okay. Mommy's okay," she cooed, patting his back. He quieted, and she kissed his head. "There we go."

Drake realised, again, how little he knew about parenting and children. Rayne, conversely, took on this role with as much natural confidence as she did answering the press, calming citizens, and charming nobles. She looked up again.

"I know that many people see me at face value. I'm just the mother—"

"Those are the people Madeleine has poisoned, they—"

"Drake, listen, please." She stopped him, and waited a moment before continuing. “You know as well as I do that refusing to consider an opposing perspective makes us no better than those who think ill of us. I can’t judge them for their beliefs, nor can I ask them to change, but I know I am more than what they say.” She paused, then exhaled sharply. “I know what you’re thinking.”

“Then why are you resisting?”

Rayne tensed, lips pursed, and looked away from him. He had crossed a line. Again.

“Why do I keep having the same conversation with everyone?” she said, exasperated. “The only person who has respected my decision from the beginning is Liam. This is my choice, Drake.” In her arms Leo stirred again. Her expression softened as she turned down to him, then back. “Excuse me.”

As she left the room, Drake ran both hands over his face and cursed his tactlessness. He had come here thinking she might like company, but his challenges were straining their relationship. It wouldn’t be the first one he had ruined. Surely though, after enough attempts, Rayne would see how capable she was, and change her mind.

It took a while for her to return, but when she did he knew for certain it wouldn’t be today.

“Do you understand how little control I have over my life?” she said, seeming much taller than she was. “This is my life, my decision. I will not fall back on expectations because you think it is the best course. You do not decide for me, and do not presume it is your place to try.” She met his gaze unflinching, and after a moment, he nodded.

“You’re right,” he conceded. And stubborn, and brave, and exhausted… “I’m sorry.”

“Thank you.” Satisfied, she closed her eyes and visibly calmed herself somehow, before sitting on the arm of the next chair with a smile that made him nervous. “Now, I’m glad you came. I have a question for you.”

There seemed an audible click in his mind as he connected her tone with the question. “I really don’t think—”

“Why haven’t you asked Olivia out yet?”

He stared at her, less prepared than he should be considering he’d been asking himself the same thing. “Because I…” he cleared his throat, then assumed what he hoped was a convincing attempt at nonchalance. “Even if I was interested, there’s no way she’d agree.”

Olivia was coming to the palace in a few days, and sure they had a few things planned, but that was all casual. Rayne rolled her eyes.

“Not with that attitude she won’t. Come on, it’s not as if you’re asking her to run a kingdom. She isn’t going to agree if you never actually ask her, and she isn’t going to wait forever.” She grinned, but he was saved from fumbling for an answer by a knock on the hall door. They both turned.

“Expecting anyone?” he asked. She shook her head.

“Maybe Liam is back early?” The hope in her voice was painful to hear. Liam wouldn’t be back for hours.

“I don’t think so,” he said, suddenly unsettled. “I’ll get it.” He stood and stepped forward but she held up a hand.

“You stay right there. Work on that answer.” Rayne winked at him and approached the door, but there was tension in her shoulders.

She paused with a hand on the doorknob, then squared her shoulders, pulled it open, and froze.

---- ----

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[leconcombrerit]

Oh non, je suis vraiment désolé de l'apprendre...

Pourvu qu'elle se rétablisse vite...

Emergency hugs 🫂🫂🫂🫂

Merci... Elle méritait vraiment pas ça, surtout en ce moment...

Switching to English for the follow up cause it's absolutely unbelievable, it makes me sick to my stomach.

She was left crying in pain in the ER hallway for four hours without any care or pain killers (pretty standard mind you). Then she was diagnosed with a fracture (insert a shocked pikachu face) and had surgery scheduled for the next morning. Now credit where credit is due, they gave her paracetamol 500. She was still sobbing when my brother had her on the phone at 8AM.

And now to the actually fun part that's not just how hospitals work.

The doctor told her that she'd be walking tomorrow after the surgery, pain or no pain. In these words. While she was sobbing. You can say a lot of things about my mother, but not that she's not brave and stubborn in the face of pain. So that man literally comes up to a woman who's going through impossible suffering while just existing in her bed and threatens her.

But ! There's even better !

They also told her that she'd be out by Saturday evening (remember she was admitted on Thursday, surgery on Friday). But my mother lives in a building, fifth floor, NO LIFT. No lift. Fifth floor. Broken hip. The ambulance can drop her at her address and what, leave her to sleep outside cause she can't climb those stairs? Help her upstairs and leave her locked there, no balcony, no fresh air, no groceries (her kind neighbour volunteered for the latter, but still)? She can't live with us either, having both her and my dad in the same general location would have two deads four injured.

I swear to god this hospital has the worst reputation for a reason. People die there, no kidding. They failed to diagnose my brother's appendicitis when he was 17, almost died. My mother's shattered shoulder, almost died. Both saved not by this hospital's staff, but by forcefully getting out and begging another one to check them in.

Ahahahaha and that time there was a very bad disease in their canalisations so no one could shower there and it lasted for months. Or the time they didn't properly clean a family friend's hand before stitching it even though he'd been bitten by a cow and it got infected, and they failed to clean it properly again when he came back. No but seriously I could go on forever.

She can't even keep her dog. He's pulling too hard on the leash. He's not used to cats, so it's unsure whether we can keep him. I don't want to send him back to the shelter. It would break my mom's heart even more.

[electricbluebutterflies]

bertha x george + making up the most random excuses to secretly meet up with the other [by which i mean yes they are married but also they are still sneaking around]

Vaguely nsfw and also on ao3.

Will this evening ever end?!

Bertha is not completely averse to such invitations, she reminds herself. Balls do provide her with a lot of things she wants – opportunity to be seen, opportunity to poke around other people’s houses, opportunity to overhear information she can put to use later, opportunity to frustrate her husband…

This last part of her agenda feels particularly interesting at the moment. They can’t leave now, not for another hour, but there is a difference between actual departure and merely slipping away to clear her head and she intends to get as close to that line as she can.

She would need some fresh air anyways. She’s been trapped in a conversation she doesn’t want for the last ten minutes and there’s only so much she can actually pay attention to about someone’s cousin’s unhappy marriage to a lawyer in Baltimore – there are, unfortunately, several details that make that particularly useless gossip – and-

She’s been able to feel a hairpin slowly slipping for almost as long, one of the flowers attached to her head not pinned quite right, and there is a vulgar comment she could make about that innocent concern but she is in no mood to cause more problems for herself and-

“I need to go… make sure my hair is still intact,” she murmurs, twirling away before she can get trapped in an even worse conversation about how good help is so hard to find. She will, if all goes well, need to do a few things to her hair within the next few minutes, but-

She makes sure to catch her husband’s eye as she moves towards the nearest exit, a follow-me look she knows he’ll understand. It is so damned easier for men to get out of things, she thinks, and she suspects he won’t have to make near as much of an excuse as she did and she also doesn’t care and-

She did mean to explore their hosts’ house a bit. She had heard something about a side parlor recently redecorated. If her interest in that space is more about how quiet it is…

Most people, Bertha thinks, would find a different space for a tryst. At the very least, somewhere less… pink. But the life she lives involves cultivated strategies, and a garishly colored wall doesn’t matter if she’s pinned to it, and-

“You are impossible.”

“And you adore me.”

Unspeakably impatient too, and this does not mean her mood will have passed by the time they can do things more properly in her bed, but-

They do have routines. Her hair, source of so much trouble already this evening, must stay intact. No touch above her shoulders except kisses and that has to be careful, nothing that might leave marks. Her dress is… she did at least think about layers and possibilities, it won’t be impossible to lift up or straighten down if that is where desire takes them, but-

She still gasps as her husband kisses her, the delight of it all, of knowing that she is wanted and understood and-

“How much time do you think we have?” he murmurs.

“You, I don’t have the slightest idea. Me… ten minutes before that cow I was talking to wonders how long it takes me to stab myself with a hairpin, fifteen before she starts looking.”

“So not quite enough…”

She can practically see the gears in his mind turning as he kisses her again, considering the most efficient way to use their time and give her what she needs and-

She is unsure whether she backs herself against a wall or she is guided there with his hands delicately on her hips, but she knows that look in his eyes when they break and-

“Can you lift your skirts without ruining-“

She nods. Impossible, this love of hers, and if he’s asking her to do that it will mean other uses for his hands, and-

She suspects they will not be the only couple to slip away during this impossibly long evening, but would any other man give his woman the kind of attention hers does? He looks right on his knees for her, breath warm on her thighs before-

There is no time to tease her and even less need. She is already swollen enough to take kisses, and he hums against her sensitive parts before taking her bud between his lips and oh if the amount of fabric in her hands right now did not obscure the sight of him and-

She bites the inside of her lips as she shatters, careful even now not to make the slightest sound, and she knows he knows her reactions, how she flutters and-

He leaves a few kisses on her inner thighs before leaving her be, before getting back to his feet and kissing her mouth again and she is still overwhelmed and-

“Perfectly in time,” he murmurs.

“You do know what I want.”

He slips away first, always easier; she lingers alone, still against the wall, for a few heartbeats before making sure everything looks alright. If her outer skirt looks just a little questionable, trying to sit down on that uncomfortable-looking sofa over there likely would’ve done similar damage, and if her face is flushed…

Well. Now she’s motivated herself. Another hour, perhaps, and then she will go home and finish what she started, and…

That hour will still feel like a lifetime, but she’ll survive.

[clickerflight]

Burned at the Stake: Part 5

Master list

Part 4

Couldn't wait till tomorrow to post.

Content: Vampire whumpee, human whumper, human caretaker, gun violence, blood, pistol whipped, possible eye injury (not described much), betrayal my beloved, vampire trafficking, dragged by the hair cause I'm obsessed, gun wound, blood drinking (but it's satisfying tho)

..................................................

Esial woke up to the sound of the front door closing. He laid there in the bed, almost dizzy with how comfy he felt. The blankets were all unimaginably soft, as was the padding he was laying on. He laid there, giddy with the feeling as the general glow of sunlight lit the room gradually through the cracks around the fabric. 

He’d have to move to make sure the fabric hid the sunlight better, but he just wanted to sit and enjoy resting. 

He dozed off, unaware of the world again. He woke up when Kyle came back and eventually got himself out of bed. He glanced out the window and was surprised to see the sun in the sky through a partially open blind. 

He jumped back with a yelp to get away, but realized he hadn’t been burned. 

He frowned and stepped forward, moving the blinds and looking at the sun. He hadn’t seen it in so long, it was strange to look at it now. He could feel the warmth of the sun beams, but they weren’t burning him. 

He tapped at the strange see through object in between him and the outside. Maybe that was what was protecting him?

There was a knock on the door to the room and it opened up. Esial could smell blood. 

He turned and Kyle smiled at him. “Hey, I got breakfast.”

Esial tilted his head. He wasn’t really sure what a ‘breakfast’ was, but he hoped it had something to do with the blood he was smelling. 

He followed Kyle to the other room where there was some food on the table. 

“I don’t know if you’ll get sick from eating again after starving for so long, so you have a little and if you feel okay you can have more in an hour or so. Is that alright?”

Esial nodded. “Okay… I can have it?”

“Yeah, the blood is in the cup and you should have some of the sandwich.”

Esial sat down on one of the chairs as Kyle sat to eat as well and lifted the cup to his lips, sipping it slowly. He closed his eyes as the blood coated his tongue. It was cow’s blood, and while there was a strange tang to it he didn’t recognize, it was the most delicious thing he could imagine.

“I have a neighbor downstairs who’s a vampire,” Kyle said warmly. “I was able to borrow some of that from him so you’d have something before I run errands later.”

Esial licked into the cup as far as he could reach before lowering the cup, licking his lips as the blissful feeling he’d lost when the sun scared him reemerged. 

“Thank you,” he said to Kyle.

Kyle shrugged. “I should have stopped her sooner. I’m sorry, man. She told me she’d let you go.”

Esial frowned into the cup, reaching in a finger in to scoop out some more for himself. 

Kyle finished his sandwich before getting up. “I’m going to run errands. I’m going to figure out how we go through the process of getting you taken care of. Don’t want to force you to live with me forever.”

Esial hummed, though he didn’t really understand all that Kyle meant, though he was glad to hear that Kyle didn’t intend to keep him like the woman had. 

“I’ll be back in a bit,” Kyle said with a wave as he grabbed some jingly pieces of metal and left out the door. 

Esial watched the door for a bit longer before he started to poke around the place. He still couldn’t guess what anything was, though he could assume some of their uses, but he was certainly amused with guessing what certain items were as his wounds slowly began to close.

……………………………….

Joanna had waited all day. When she found her vampire missing, that had made her already bad day worse. She’d gone out drinking the night away after finding a buyer to take the vampire. He was a creepy old dude. Samuel, or something like that. She had his phone number written down so she thankfully wouldn’t have to rely on her hungover state of mind.  

She already knew who had taken Esial. The only person who’d known the vampire was here in the first place. She couldn’t really call the police and get it back, so she’d have to do it herself. And she would get it back. Kyle wasn’t tough enough to stand up to her, and the vampire was still weak enough she was certain she could deal with it, especially with a pistol ready to go in her pocket. One shot to the brain and it would certainly go right back to sleep long enough for her to make the deal. 

Still, Joanna waited till nighttime so she could drag the vampire out without burning it to a crisp and get noticed and caught. 

Something tugged in her heart as she thought about what she might have to do to Kyle but she shook that off quickly, She’d only have to do that if her friend tried to stop her. 

Joanna stood at Kyle’s door, his spare key in hand. She could hear people talking inside in Ancient Egyptian. She steeled her resolve, and pushed open the door, gun in hand.

…………………………………

Esial really liked Kyle. The man’s Egyptian was a little rough, but it wasn’t like Esial could say he was a master at English. Kyle was still teaching Esial new words and the vampire was drinking them as quickly as they came, enjoying it all. He had eaten every hour and all of his burns were healed. He’d even been given some proper clothing. Kyle had seemed rather disgusted by the towel Esial had been wearing, and Esial couldn’t help but agree. He tugged at the shirt he wore, still trying to figure out what it was made of as they chatted. 

“So, the plan is that I’ll take you to the rehab center tomorrow. They said you could stay there or stay with me in the evenings, whatever works for you,” Kyle said in a mixture of Egyptian and English so Esial could best understand. “You don’t have to decide tonight.”

“I like it here,” Esial suggested. 

“How about you wait till you’ve seen that place? It’s really nice. All the bells and whistles. They’ll be able to get you an education and then help you get set up in society with a job and everything. There are a lot of cool options for vampires… though you might be a little limited if you come from the generations that can’t tolerate the sun. Still, I’m sure they’ll have something that will work for you.”

Esial nodded, happy with the knowledge that he could be out doing things again. Maybe even hunting!

There was silence for a moment and Kyle sighed. “I’m really sorry about… everything. What happened to you? Why were you in that clearing?”

Esial frowned, thinking back. It had been a very long time ago and it almost didn’t seem to matter anymore. “I…. don’t really remember. I think they were scared of me?”

He didn’t relive those memories very often as a heart, so they had been mostly forgotten in the vastness of endless agony and boredom. “Maybe…. I think there was another demon around who did something, and they thought it was me? I think I killed some of them when they attacked me, but I was just defending myself.”

Kyle seemed a bit taken aback. “You don’t remember?”

“Not really.”

“That’s…. Strange. I can’t imagine not-What’s wrong?”

Esial stared at the front door, he heard something in the handle click and he smelled-

Esial grabbed Kyle as the door slammed open, pulling the young man down behind the counter they had been sitting at. 

There was a loud bang that rang painfully in Esial’s ears and dust shattered out of the wall behind them, settling in their hair. 

“Kyle, get out here now,” Joanna said sharply, the door now closed and locked behind her. 

“You don’t want to do this, Joanna,” Kyle replied, back pressed against the corner as he carefully looked around the edge. He had some object in hand that Esial didn’t recognize, punching at buttons, but before he could finish that, Joanna was standing over them, the strange weapon in her hand pointed at Kyle’s forehead. 

Kyle froze, staring up at her. 

“Put the phone down,” she said darkly. 

Esial trembled, unsure of what to do. He didn’t know how the weapon worked. Would it kill Kyle before he could knock Joanna away? Kyle had a firm hold on one of Esial’s wrists, maybe to keep him from trying. 

Kyle did so, and Joanna kicked the object off down the hall. 

“This is how it’s going to go,” Joanna said, leaning down. She grabbed Esial by the hair, making the vampire shudder and grab her wrist with his free hand, remembering very clearly the last time she had done so. “I’m taking the vampire, and you’re going to come with me quietly. Mmkay? I’m selling it off and you’re going to be involved so if you tell the police, you’re getting arrested too, got it?”

Kyle gritted his teeth for a moment, but she touched the still hot tip of the weapon to his forehead, making him flinch back and hit his head off the counter. “Got it?”

“Yeah, fine,” Kyle snarled. 

Esial could see the fire in Kyle’s eyes and knew that his rescuer was making no promises to this woman. Joanna could tell too, it seemed, because she whipped the gun across Kyle’s face, sending him fully prone to the ground. 

Esial moved, trying to wrench himself out of her grasp and get Kyle, but the weapon was pressed to his head. The dust still in his hair felt heavy with the promise of what pain this weapon could promise. 

“You, Vampire, are going to behave yourself, or I kill him,” Joanna said, eliciting a groan from Kyle as he tried to get an elbow under himself, his hand to his face. 

“What happened, hsss, to me being involved?” Kyle asked, looking up at her through his fingers. 

“You just made it very clear you’re not going to comply. This could have been so much easier if you’d stayed out of all this, Kyle. I don’t want you to die, but you’ve made this complicated,” she said standing up and dragging Esial up with her. “Get up, Kyle.”

Kyle did so, hand over one eye. His breathing was picking up, and he was getting paler by the minute. Esial could smell his blood.

“Alright. You’ll be walking ahead of us, and if you get any bright ideas-”

There came a knocking at the door and the three of them froze. 

“Kyle?” someone called through the door. “You alright?”

Kyle was silent and Joanna finally hissed, “Tell him everything is fine.”

Reluctantly, Kyle cleared his throat. “Joseph?”

“Yeah, you alright?”

Kyle didn’t even hesitate. He simply screamed. There were no comprehensible words in the scream, but is soon took on the sound of pain as another bang ricocheted in Esial’s skull and Kyle went down with blood spewing out his side. 

Esial heard the door splinter, he heard Kyle wailing, he heard Joanna’s blood pounding, and he heard his hair rip as he lunged forward, sinking his fangs into the arm holding the weapon. Her blood sprang up into his mouth, and some ancient instinct told him to drink. 

He’d eaten all day, but his body was still starving and this….. He’d never had human blood before. It was…..

Tough hands pried him off of a fallen woman and he lunged to try and get more. There was nothing in this world that could taste that good, he was sure of it. His mouth sang with flavor and all he wanted was more. He would be fully healed to the point where he could fight hippos again. No one would ever hurt him again, he would never be held down by chains and he-

“Oi! Leave it!”

The words pierced his mind and he became aware of how he was salivating, the spit and blood dripping down his front, He felt bloated and overful, there was energy coursing through his veins and stars appearing in his vision as the vampire named Joseph hauled him back away from where Joanna had fallen, still breathing. Barely.  

There were other people in the apartment, some using devices and talking to people Esial couldn’t see and someone was holding Kyle’s wound. 

Esial couldn’t control his breathing, and he was still enough for Joseph to get a better grip on him. “S’alright, man. You back?”

Esial twisted his head to try and see Joseph’s face. He didn’t respond other than to simply tremble, ignoring the blood pooling out in two different places in the apartment as someone clamped their hand over Joanna’s wound. 

“It’s alright,” Joseph said steadily. “You’re alright. I’ve got you. Looks like Kyle’s gonna be okay too.”

Esial slowly relaxed, hearing loud wailing noises not made by any mouth approaching the building. “Alright….”

Esial: @whumpsday @honeycollectswhump @writereleaserepeat @tragedyinblue @hyrules-sleepiest-knight

Before you go

I know a lot of you really like this, I am planning on doing more in this world and Esial and Kyle will show up in those as side or main characters. If you want to be tagged in anything made in this world (I don't have a name for it yet but I'll think of one) let me know.

Part 6

[bunnyboo77]

The Mad King’s Bride

chapter 2

The great hall was ablaze with light and music as lords and ladies gathered for the grand celebration. The room was elegantly decorated with tapestries and chandeliers, creating a warm and inviting atmosphere. Servants bustled about, refilling goblets with rich wine and delicate delicacies. The sound of laughter and lively conversation filled the air as guests mingled and danced to the enchanting melodies played by the musicians. The lords and ladies moved gracefully across the polished floor, their colorful gowns and fine attire adding to the splendor of the event.

Noble houses from all across the land flock to the capital though many had their fears. The promise of riches and gaining alliances that would benefit there house was greater then fear itself. As the lords and ladies arrived in the capital, they whispered amongst themselves about the king's erratic behavior and the tales of him burning people alive for his own amusement. The only way to gain such favour was to present there daughters as possible brides for the king.

Yet, the lure of power and prestige was too great to resist, and they put on a brave face as they presented there young daughters and sisters before the throne, concealing their trepidation behind smiles and courtesies. The tension in the air was palpable, as each guest wondered if they would be the next victim of the king's unpredictable wrath.

Aery who was already bored with the countless lords presenting their daughters to him as though there prized pigs or cows. To him they all looked ugly and untrustworthy just like there sad excuse of a father or uncle.

“Boy another and be quick about it” king spoke raising his gold goblet in the air. The rush of feet made their to the throne with the appearance of a fear stricken boy.

Rich donnish wine was all the king drank as it was considered more frequent than meals.

Making eye contact with the cup bearer though he never before unless he was pulling his organs from there body. The king only noticed that the cup bearer who is normally a young lad was actually a young maiden with doe blue eyes staring into his soul.

Averting her gaze she was about to leave when all of sudden a hand grabs her wrist with such force she almost dropped the jug of wine.

“My king” the young maiden spoke with sweet soft voice.

A moment of silence felt like it lasted the whole night. the grip on the young maiden wrist did not let up as though the dragon himself was holding onto treasure.

“ I did not command you to leave” he said with fire burning in his eyes as he continued to gaze into hers.

Bowing ever so slightly, she whispered “ as a command your majesty”

The king knew he wanted to hear sweet voice moaning out his name as he took her to his bed as his Queen.

Such an obedient maiden she is sweet innocence and pure to the touch of man. The King's gaze continued to fix on the young woman especially her body as though she is small he can clearly see the curvature of her waste underneath her simple dress.

"Do tell me my dear how is it you have become my cup bearer" the king spoke taking another sip of wine.

Not even lift her gaze and she spoke "I'm afraid your your grace your normal cupbearer has been taken ill and I was sent in his place as they could not find a replacement so soon".

Though the king did not care for who served him wine as long as his cup was full probably cared it could have been a horse. This young innocent maiden had intrigued him not only in her enchanting voice but in her appearance. Her eyes called to him like a siren lowering the sailors to their death.

Throughout the night it had been the same seen Lords approaching him as they flaunt their family in front of him while trying to gain favor. Normally the king would not care about such pathetic acts choosing to drown himself in wine to drone out their sad attempts to bootlicking.

“My king it is such a grand night to celebrate your noble house as well as the many great Targaryen’s that came before you” one Lord says all the while his feared haired sixteen-year-old daughter stood beside him. The young Lord's daughter ever so slightly battered her long eyelashes had him.

Taking no notice of the Lord the king continued to stare at his own personal cupbearer. The young lady herself stood quietly by his side. Curls of her light brunette hair could be seen coming through her cap. Aery felt this need to approach the woman and to lightly brush his fingers across her head curling them around her hair. Imagining her eyes meeting is the way her skin would feel against his worn fingers.

“So smooth” he thought.

The sensation ohh her soft supple lips against his own, the way their tongues danced and intertwined in a passionate embrace. Hands yet small brushed against his neck as he pulls her closer feeling the raw passion between them growing stronger with each fleeting moment. In his mind he realized the idea of losing himself in the heat of the moment consumed by intoxicating the lure.

The babbling of this Lord it was only stopped when Lord Tywin spoke “thank you Lord Gregor the king warmly accepts your appreciation”. Aery turned his head and nodded, not uttering a single word.

“Lord tywin how many more of these simple-minded men do I have to listen to you” he spoke gripping his cup tighter. Not even turning his head Tywin replied, “I'm afraid my king they will continue this all night”.

Taking a long deep breath the king turned to avert his gaze again to his young maiden who at this time had left his sight. Darting his head around the room he could not find a glimpse of her, not the swaying of her dress or that of her doe eyes. About to leave his throne he then saw the young maiden appearing from nowhere holding now a full jug of wine.

Kneeling beside him she carefully filled his cup that had already been emptied.

“I did not give you permission to go and yet you left my side do you make it a habit of not obeying your King's orders.”

locking up with fear filled eyes “I am sorry your majesty the jug was nearly emptied I hurried as quickly as I could without spilling.”

Feeling his chest grow warm, the king did not reply back simply groaning in annoyance now that her actions but how she could easily melt his anger away with one simple apology. This act had never spared someone's life before but yet it spared hers. As on cue the king could feel his heartbeat faster and faster.

The king rose from his throne, his hand clutching his chest, the wave of emotions carrying him to an unknown feeling he did experience his entire life.

Caring not for the sudden stop of the music or the abrupt stares of others or how in unison they bowed and whispered your majesty. Barging his way through the doors his footsteps were followed by the clanking of metal as guards rushed behind him. He did not let up on his pace until he reached his chambers, the room itself illuminated by the soft embers of the candles lit around.

Falling onto his bed, a certain thought grips him, searing through his mind as he closed his eyes. In the darkness behind his lids, he envisions the young maiden, her image even more vivid than when he was on the throne. A voice almost primal nature whispers to him that she belongs solely to him and that he must claim her as his own. The thought consumes him feeling his desires drive him to the brink of madness. In this moment, the king is overtaken by the need to possess her to feel her presence beneath him to make her his in every sense of the word. As he lies upon these silken sheets his heart continues to race with longing his mind ablaze with the intoxicated fantasy of diverse ways of claiming her as his rightful prize

[morbid-mutt]

'Till The Cows Come Home - Chapter 1

AO3 Link

Characters: John Price, Kate Laswell, Original Characters TW: Childhood Abuse, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Domestic Violence, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Hurt/Comfort

Summary:

If you had asked any of the members of Task Force 141, they wouldn't have expected the events leading up to the addition of their two newest members. And yet, the duo soon found their place amongst their newfound team, their family. Unfortunately, this peace doesn't last forever and soon, the task force finds itself in ever-growing complication that is tangled with old foes that were thought to have been put away forever.

Chapter 1: New Beginnings

“New Beginnings”

JUL 10, 23 0800

Capt. John Price, Kate Laswell

LONDON, ENGLAND

A cool spring breeze lingered in the air as the sound of passing cars buzzing by permeated the small cafe situated just outside of downtown London. Two people sat among the several metal tables outside the business, quietly murmuring amongst themselves. One of them, a stocky build man with a thick mustache framed by mutton chops, leaned back in the chair as he addressed the woman sitting before him.

Captain John Price briefly removed his hat to card his fingers through the short brown locks of his hair before returning it to its resting place. The woman, Kate Laswell, dressed in a simple blue sweater, leaned forward to rest her arms against the table. Between them sat two manilla envelopes.

Kate’s hand casually reached forward to slide the envelopes across the table towards the man in question, her crystal blue eyes looking up at him. John Price let out a deep sigh as he wearily eyed them before lifting his gaze to meet her eyes. “Wha’ the hell are these, Kate?” he asked.

Amusement glinted in Laswell’s eyes as she spoke. “Two new soldiers for ya,” she said, her American accent a stark contrast from the man’s deep British-laced tone. Her face softened in sympathy at the unease etched on the older man’s face, and the hesitance tensed in his posture. “Listen, John. I know you have a lot on your plate right now. But this is a direct order from General Shepard; you know how he can be. No matter what I said, he wouldn’t budge on this.”

An exasperated groan thrummed in his chest, battling the urge to throw his arms up in frustration. “More o’ Shepard’s men? Wha’ am I, his goddamn babysitter?”

The CIA agent huffed a quiet laugh before giving her head a slight nod towards the files beneath her hand before retracting it to fold her arms on the table’s edge. “Something is different about these two, John.” Her voice was hushed, despite not needing to over the drowning sound of the nearby traffic. “Shepard was quite persistent about having them transferred over to the task force.”

Price let his eyes fall to the envelopes, his brows knitting together as he looked down at them with suspicion. It wasn’t unusual for the General to be sticking his nose into the business of Task Force 141, but this was odd. Never had he made a special request such as transferring two of his own men under Captain Price’s leadership. Most of their interactions had been based purely on the guise of mutual benefit.

He finally reached for them with a resigned sigh before carefully opening the file with tentative care, tugging the papers from its confines. Across the top of the soldier’s file read a name, “Wren ‘Fido’ Lewis.” His eyes skimmed across the data on the papers before setting the documents on top of the envelope, brushing it aside. He picked up the second file, opening it with the same care. Inside was a similar document, though this one had a different name across the top: “Ryder ‘Joyride’ Daniels [REDACTED].”

John’s eyes, an infinite pool of blue granite, stared down at the papers laid out before him. Finally, after a moment's thought, he raised his gaze to meet Kate’s waiting eyes, one of his eyebrows quirked inquisitively. The Captain cleared his throat, leaning back against the metal chair as his hand moved to fish out a pack of cigars from his pocket.

He tugged one free from the packet before sliding it between his teeth before finally addressing her. “Al’right. So, wha’s these kids’ stories?” ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was on a crisp autumn day in a tiny little town on the southeastern coast of South Carolina on October 13th, 1997, that Wren Lewis was born into the world to a loving single mother by the name of Dianne Lewis. From the very beginning, it was just the two of them against the rest of the world, his father having passed away a few months prior to his birth. Wren was a relatively peaceful babe, never crying without want, which made things easy for his mother, who was struggling with the responsibilities on her own. 

That is until they moved in with her long-distance boyfriend, a man named Alan, who lived across the state when Wren was around the age of 5. Despite not having met in person, Dianne was swept up in a whirlwind romance, moving into the small trailer with Alan only after a few months of dating. This would end up being the best, and worst event of this boy’s life.

At first, things seemed to be going fine. Their new patchwork family was an adjustment for the little boy but certainly not an unwelcome one. It was only a few days into their new home life that things took a turn, and Alan’s true colors began to rear their ugly head. It turns out Alan Dubois was a drunk, a disgrace of a man, if you could even call him that.   

For most of his days spent in his new home, Wren would find himself hiding in the closet of his too-small room, a pillow clutched firmly over his ears in an attempt to block out the roaring voice of Alan and the resulting cries of his mother. Those days were when a deep-seated anger began to fester in his heart. He despised Alan with every fiber of his being. Despite this, the boy was oblivious to the sound of skin striking skin through the paper-thin walls, something that he would realize later in life that only caused that anger to boil deep within his stomach. 

Wren was unfortunately not free of Alan’s rampage, either. The littlest thing would set the man off into a rage, sometimes something as simple as forgetting to put his toys away; sometimes, there wasn’t even a reason.  Whatever the cause, Alan’s favorite punishment would be to stub out the simmering embers of his cigarettes against his pale skin. And fuck, did that hurt. The smell of his burnt flesh mixed with the lingering scent of tobacco made him sick to his stomach. 

Initially, he was careful, calculated so that the marks would remain mostly hidden beneath his clothes. The boy had learned early on that it was best not to struggle during these alcohol-fueled outbreaks lest he be punished even more severely. 

Fortunately, some respite arrived in the form of preschool. Wren eagerly followed his mother as they approached the school, his hand held tightly in Dianne’s warm grasp. Those hands always brought him so much comfort. It was orientation day, a chance for the incoming students to explore the school premises before their first official day. After briefly meeting the Principal, Wren and his mother walked along the sidewalk past the different classrooms situated in small cinderblock buildings. 

As they passed by the expansive field of the playground, Wren noticed something from the corner of his eye. There was a small child crouched by the fence, much smaller than any of the other students he had seen that day. He felt a twinge in the pit of his stomach, realizing that he was by himself, away from the other students playing a game of kickball. Did they not let him join? His eyes swept over the kid; his red-brown hair hung in his face as he carefully poked at something he couldn’t see with a stick, his arms wrapped in thick bandages. 

The boy turned to look up at his mom, her curled black tresses framing her soft face. She was so beautiful. “Momma, can I go play?” The sound of his voice caught her attention as she turned to look down at him. A fond smile spread across her face, only marred by a faint bruise visible around her eye that was barely hidden by the concealer she wore. 

“Stay where I can see you!” Dianne shouted after him as he dashed across the field toward the other kid before she even had the chance to answer his question. The sicky, sweet scent of decay hit his nose before he skidded to a halt just behind the other child. His nose scrunched at the offending smell as he spoke up. “Whatcha’ doin’?” The kid’s shoulders jolted as he was startled by the sudden voice behind him. His pale gray eyes raised cautiously to look up at Wren from the carcass of a raccoon he was prodding at. 

He was small, much smaller than he had appeared across the playground. His red-brown hair was tied into a loose braid that stopped just short of his shoulders, and Wren’s eyes were drawn to the faint pink scarring that peaked out from beneath the wraps covering the boy’s arms. The small boy shifted uncomfortably under his stare, returning to the carrion lying on the ground. 

The fur on the animal's hindquarters was matted and discolored as if something had been gnawing at it. Wren couldn't help but wonder what creatures had been feasting on the raccoon's remains. He couldn't see any maggots or other insects, but he knew they were probably present in the animal's decomposing flesh.  The sight was both fascinating and repulsive at the same time.

“Ooh, cool! Are those bones?” Without waiting for a response, Wren crowded the other kid’s space as he knelt beside him. A relatively peaceful silence settled between them, only broken with the occasional comment from Wren about their discoveries as curiosity sparkled in their eyes. 

After a short while, Wren’s mother’s voice rang out across the playground. “Wren, sweetie! It’s time to go now!” The boy’s cheeks puffed up with a pout as he begrudgingly stood from his seated position. He spun on his heel to leave before quickly turning back around, smiling at the kid still kneeling down by him. “I’m Wren, by the way! Let’s be friends, okay?” 

A huge smile spread across his expression to reveal two missing front teeth as the child finally spoke up, his voice barely an audible whisper, “O-Okay. I’m Ryder.” Warmth filled the little boy’s heart as he gave a quick wave before running to catch up with his mother. He made a friend, a real friend! Little did Wren know that this kid would end up becoming his best friend for the rest of his life. 

A few years later, his mother got married to Alan, much to Wren’s chagrin. The abuse from his now stepfather only seemed to get worse with time after this. By the time the boy had reached middle school, he found himself sneaking out of his room in the darkness of the night for the first time. The crisp winter air whipped against his tear-stained cheeks as he slid open the window to his bedroom, glancing over his shoulder every so often as fear knotted in the pit of his stomach. That day, he had received a particularly ruthless punishment at the hands of his stepfather.  Bruises feathered across the pale skin of his arms, shadows of the tight grip of fingers around his thin arms that were dotted with a constellation of red burns. Blood was crusted on the corner of his lips, paired with the angry split in the pink flesh. He sucked in a trembling breath before climbing out of the window, wincing as the leaves beneath his shoes crunched too loudly for his liking. 

He trekked out into the cold night as his arms wrapped around his frame to brace against the frigid wind that whipped around him. Thank whatever creator there was that Ryder’s house was only a few roads away from the trailer park he begrudgingly called home. Wren sniffled wetly as he let his feet carry him on a path he had grown all too familiar with towards the large house settled in a comfortable urban neighborhood. 

He found himself standing outside the window leading to Ryder’s bedroom, his hand poised to knock on the fogged glass, but just as his knuckles were about to make contact with the surface, he paused, hesitant. What the hell am I doing? He’s probably asleep, and ugh, this isn’t his problem to deal with. Anxiety twisted in his stomach as he stood there for a moment, battling against his inner turmoil of simply going back home. He was turning on his heel when he practically jumped out of his skin at the jarring sound of metal grinding against glass. 

“Boltz..? What-” Ryder’s voice cut off at the sight of the teen, battered and bruised with fat tears rolling down his cheeks. “H-Hey..Sorry, I didn’t wake you up, did I?” Wren managed in a croak, his chin quivering as he fought back the sob that threatened to wrack his chest at the sight of his friend. His best friend.  

“No, no...I was- it’s fine. Come in.” Wren wiped an arm across his eyes, wincing at the sting of salty tears against the fresh burns that marred his skin. His feet shuffled against the ground as he moved over to the window, placing his feet in one of the holes of the lattice siding before hoisting himself through the partially open sill. 

The warmth of the room enveloped him like a cocoon, and he was greeted by the familiar aroma of homemade meals that instantly made his heart ache. As soon as his feet set down on the plush carpet of Ryder’s room, arms circled Wren’s waist, and he crumpled into his friend’s embrace. Every emotion he had pent up suddenly spilled forth as he slumped to his knees. Anger. Guilt. Sadness. His shoulders shook as he buried his face against the material of Ryder’s sleep pants, silent sobs bubbling up from his lungs. 

Ryder bent over him as he rubbed his hands soothingly against his back, giving him a moment to gather himself before he managed to speak again, “I-I’m sorry...I’m sorry…” Wren had promised himself he wouldn’t cave in like this. He was meant to be strong for himself. For his mother. And yet there he was, raw and feeling everything he had fought to bottle up inside. 

“Shh, shh...It’s okay…Did he- Did Alan do this?” Ryder’s voice vaguely registered in his mind as he solemnly nodded his head. He didn’t realize when he had begun to gasp for air, his heart hammering against his ribcage as his fingers clutched the soft fleece of Ryder’s pant leg. Tears pooled in his eyes, blurring his vision while a warm hand came to cup the side of his face. Ryder’s voice sounded closer now as his forehead pressed against his own, his voice low and calm. “Hey, hey...Breathe with me..” He barely noticed as his hand was moved to press against Ryder’s chest, the slow rise and fall of each breath the other teen took beneath his touch. Wren clenched his eyes closed as he tried to focus on that little thing, something so simple yet so grounding. In. Out. In. Out. Time seemed to stretch onward until Wren blinked his eyes open once more, meeting the metallic grey gaze of his best friend. A gentle smile pulled at the corner of Ryder’s lips as he let his hands fall to his lap. “Welcome back, buddy…Now, tell me, what happened?”

From that day on, this became a regular occurrence for the two. Wren would often find himself seeking solace in his friend's company, which was always welcomed with open arms. Countless nights were spent talking about everything and anything, from their deepest fears to their wildest dreams. They would stay up until the early hours of the morning, lost in their conversations, with only the sunrise to signal the end of their time together. As time went on, their bond grew stronger, and they both knew that they had found a true friend for life.

By the time they had reached high school, they were practically inseparable. They would always support and defend each other, even if it meant getting into physical fights with their classmates whenever a comment was made about them. However, frequent trips to the nurse’s office made Wren realize the need to learn first aid. Initially, it was just to avoid the scowl they received from the nurse every time they visited her office, sporting a new injury from whatever trouble they found themselves in. But eventually, Wren discovered a passion for it he never had expected. 

A few weeks shy of their graduation, Wren noticed something that just seemed off about Ryder. He could barely stay awake during class, deep purple hues permanently beneath his tired eyes. Unbeknownst to him, Ryder had been dealing with quite the issue. 

It had been a few days since the duo had last hung out; Wren blinked bleary eyes open from where his head rested on his desk. Wha-? The sound of knocking against the aluminum door of the trailer finally registered in his sleep-addled mind. He stood from his chair and walked out of his room, a hand lifting to card his fingers through sleep-mussed hair. 

He paused for a moment to take a quick glance outside through the window that overlooked the tiny wooden porch. His face brightened up with excitement as he spotted Ryder standing outside. A smile stretched across his face as he hurried to the door and flung it open with dramatic flair while striking a pose. 

“I do declare, what ever have I done to deserve such a visit from a fine young man such as yourself?”

His expression faltered at the rather severe look that was plastered on Ryder’s face. His heart sank to his stomach as he took in his best friend’s haggard state. Gaunt was the only word that could come to mind that accurately described the teen before him. 

“Bones?...Everything alright, man?...”

Wren watched as Ryder let out a deep sigh, his exhaustion evident on his face. As his usual dramatic self, Boltz tried to lighten the mood with his jokes, but it didn’t seem to work. Unease coiled in his stomach as another sigh escaped Ryder’s lips, and the boy couldn’t help but feel a sense of helplessness wash over him. 

“Ah, no, not’actly. Mind joining me for a walk? Got some shit to say,” Ryder said, his voice wavering with nerves. He swallowed thickly as his hand instinctively ran through his fluffy, wavy hair while he scratched his neck, lowering his head to hide behind it as usual. 

Wren was taken aback by how unsettled Bones appeared as he carefully observed his expression. Ryder was usually somewhat reserved in his manner, and this was just not like him. Although Bones was known for being quiet, this was on a completely different level. 

“Y-Yeah, no problem. Lemme’ throw a shirt on and grab my shoes.”

As he turned away from the doorway, the teen left it ajar as he entered his room and walked over to his dresser before putting on clothes for the day. After a few minutes, he emerged wearing a black tank top that showed off his toned arms, a pair of gray gym shorts that hung loosely on his hips, and black sandals that slapped against the vinyl floors as he returned outside. He stepped onto the porch, taking a deep breath. 

He gazed down at Ryder before hesitantly extending his arm to place his hand into Ryder’s warm palm, startling the boy from his thoughts. 

“You know you can tell me anything, right?”

Wren noticed Ryder's demeanor and could sense that he was going through a tough time. He wanted to reach out and comfort him, but at the same time, he didn't want to pressure him. Ryder had always been the stronger of the two, patient and caring as Wren struggled with the dynamic within his home. He silently wished that he could take away all his pain and make things better for him. Ryder simply gave Boltz's hand a light squeeze and nodded. 

Wren felt a sense of unease wash over him as he walked alongside Bones through the trailer park area. It was their usual routine to take a walk and end up in a small field that was a little more secluded. As they walked, he felt Ryder fidgeting with his hand and rings, and he couldn't help but smile. As they approached their usual spot, Wren couldn't help but feel a sense of peace settle over him. The tall grass swayed gently in the breeze, and the distant sound of cars passing by was the only noise in the otherwise quiet area. Ryder squeezed Boltz's hand as if grateful for this moment of stillness.

Wren watched as Ryder took a deep breath, his face contorted with worry. His heart raced as he wondered what his best friend was going to say. "Here we go," he thought to himself, bracing for the worst. The silence stretched on between them for a few moments before Ryder began to speak. 

"I've been given a choice," Ryder said, his eyes downcast, as if he couldn't bear to look at the taller teen. "I either go to jail for 20-plus years or...join the military." Wren's heart sank as he processed the gravity of the situation. He couldn’t imagine Ryder in jail for two decades, but the thought of him going off to war was equally terrifying.

Wren paused momentarily, lost in thought, as he contemplated his best friend's words. He looked down at their hands, which were now intertwined, and examined them closely. He had never really paid much attention to Ryder's hands before. They were slightly rough, with calluses that had developed over the years from working on cars. However, despite this, they felt warm; comforting.

Thoughts of their childhoods rushed through his mind, endless days spent together, all melding into one thought. Wren decided he didn't need the details that led up to this ultimatum, but he was sure of one thing: Ryder wasn't about to go this alone.

The teenager sighed softly, then lifted his emerald eyes to meet Ryder's uncertain gaze. He hummed softly in his throat before speaking. "Okay, when do we leave?"

Ryder opened his mouth as if about to speak but suddenly stopped himself and stuttered, "W-What!? What the fuck do you mean by "we"!?" He asked with disbelief, and his face showed the shock he must have felt.

Wren raised an eyebrow, and a slight smile began to form at the corner of his lips. "I mean 'we'," he replied.

He raised his hand to play with Ryder's fluffy curls, enjoying the softness beneath his fingers. The smile spread across his face, causing his eyes to crinkle at the corners.

"You think I'm going to let you do this alone? Come on, Bones. You can't get rid of me that easily."

Ryder practically whined . "No, please, Boltz, man, I really do appreciate it, but you can't follow me to the fucking military!? Or prison!? I fucked up, like big time, and before you say it, I know. But you've got your mom to take care of, and aren't you getting ready to head off to some fancy-ass college to be a big-time doctor? Don't throw away your life cause of me... I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I somehow screwed up your life too." Ryder pled, grabbing Boltz's other hand as well.

"Just don't try to follow me. Try to live your life fully. I'm practically begging you on my knees here. Please think about it and don't come chase after me right away. Please," he says with tears in his eyes, looking at Wren.

"I- I know we joke all the time about being together forever, an-and I want it too, but god, I want you not to have to look at my ugly mug every day, man..." He said with a wet chuckle, his voice thick with emotion as he squeezed Wren's hands. "Please, don't immediately jump after me. Can you promise me that?"

Wren's smile turned sheepish as he leaned his head forward, bumping his forehead against Ryder's. 

"I'm sorry, Bones. Just this once, I can't agree with you." 

He chuckled, feeling a warm sensation in his chest, before sitting up once again. His expression was one of absolute conviction as he gently squeezed the hands of his best friend. He sighed softly and said, "Don't worry, Momma will be alright. Who needs eight years of college anyway? Besides, who else is going to keep your sorry ass out of trouble?"

His eyes softened as he looked down at Ryder fondly. Tears gathered in the corners of his eyes as his following words came out as a choked sob.

Ryder let out a quiet laugh and closed his eyes. "I don't think they allow me to bring a plus one, Boltz," he said, followed by a sniff and a shaky sigh.

Finally succumbing to all the emotions he had held back in the past few days, Ryder rested his head on Wren's shoulder and started to shake silently. He held onto Boltz's hands tightly as if they were his lifeline.

As Ryder's body started to shake silently, Wren instinctively wrapped his arm around him, pulling him closer. He could feel the weight of his emotions and knew he needed comfort. He held him tightly as he rested his head on his shoulder, his hands still clasped with Boltz's. Wren whispered softly, "It's okay to let it out, Ryder. I'm here for you." He could feel the warmth of Ryder’s tears against his skin, and he held him even tighter, offering him the same comfort that the other teen had given him so many nights before.

"God, Wren, I thought I was gonna die... I-I was hidden, but I saw so much..this is what I get for ignoring the obvious just for fucking money. " Wren's heart sank to the pit of his stomach, guilt tangling with anxiety that coursed through him. Fuck, how had he not noticed that all of this was happening? Through their years of friendship, Wren could tell the slightest thing about Ryder without even having to exchange any words, but somehow, he managed to miss something as devastating as this. 

"I saw kids my age get- get- fuck "

Wren's eyebrows drew together as he pulled his hands free of Ryder's in lieu of wrapping them snugly around his trembling body. His hand came to rest against the back of his red-brown hair, pulling his head into the crook of his neck. Ryder clung tightly to Wren, hiding his face in his neck, and wrapped his arms around his waist. He was sobbing, but it was still a quiet thing. He was never one to be too loud; he just never enjoyed the sound of others and himself at a higher volume than needed. 

"I was helping them for four years, Wren. I figured out they were more than a fucking gang a year and a half into it, but it was experience on vehicles and good money once I got noticed by the sicario. Fixed up his car. I started driving them to random ass locations on weekends but never questioned it much. Why the fuck did I become a getaway driver for a fucking cartel and stay ." Ryder sobbed. Wren could tell his best friend's head was a mess of insecurities, self-doubt, and so many other things. Boltz couldn't even imagine the things that Ryder had seen, no less something that a teen should never have to witness. 

"Hey, hey. Ryder, none of this was your fault. How were you supposed to know.." The tears finally spilled over his own cheeks as he squeezed Ryder tightly against his body. His fingers carded through his hair soothingly as he wracked his brain. Finally, a thought came to his mind.  

"Hear me out, Bones...They said you could enlist, right? Could we- Could we ask Phil to see if we could do this together? Maybe he could pull some strings." Ryder almost didn't hear Wren, pulling away slightly and bringing a hand up to rub his face away from tears.

"Philly?" He croaked. "What does he have to do with this? He left the house when I was 4?" Ryder's muddled brain was not picking up the pieces of the puzzle. Wren pressed a warm hand against Ryder's swollen, damp cheek and let his thumb gently brush away a stray tear. He let out a quiet huff of a laugh before explaining. "Your dad said he's in the military now, right? Maybe he could- I don't know. Maybe he could ask one of his managers or something if they could make this work." 

Especially now, the thought of being separated from his best friend tore at his heart with an aching burn. Not after everything he had been through. It was bad enough that he hadn't noticed something bigger was going on, but the thought that he would have to continue to bear this burden alone killed him. 

Wren knew the conversation with his mom about this wouldn't go easily, but this was what he wanted: What felt right . Ryder had been through everything with him, through the countless nights when he fled to his house, knocking on his window as sobs wracked his body from nightmares that haunted him of his stepfather's wrath. No , he was determined to be there for him, just as he had with him.

Ryder blinked, a look of realization dawning on his face. His face scrunched up with uncertainty at Wren's suggestion. "I mean...maybe? I only see him like, every couple of years. I could ask Jenny. She may have his number or Dad; I'm not sure. I haven't seen him much since I was around 8. He stopped coming home for holidays, but if it could help?" Ryder's voice had doubt in it. He sniffed and really looked at Wren. 

"Are you 100 percent sure you wanna do this? Cause I could just go to prison, ya know, for fun." Ryder said sarcastically. "Who knows, maybe I'll get a boyfriend there!" It was a feeble attempt at humor, but Ryder's lips curled into a faint smile. He let out a small sigh.

Wren's eyes rolled in a dramatic circle as he let out a sigh, disappointed by the poorly timed joke from his best friend. He then dropped his head against his palm with a quiet smack, sporting a slight smile on his pale face, revealing the point of his canine through his lips.

"It just doesn't sit right with me that I'd be dragging you down with me 'cause I fucked up..."

As Wren looked up at Ryder, he felt a sense of determination well up inside him. He knew he had to do something to lift Ryder's spirits, to make him feel better. The boy had always been a compassionate person, and seeing Ryder in such a despondent state tugged at his heartstrings. He wracked his brain for ideas, trying to think of something that would make Ryder smile, something that would bring a glimmer of joy to his eyes. Despite the gravity of the situation, Wren refused to give up hope. He was determined to help Ryder through this challenging time, no matter what it took.

"Sorry, bro. You can't make this decision for me. I've made up my mind."

Wren gazed at his best friend, who had been by his side since they were little. He saw tears welling up in his eyes, but this time, they seemed to be tears of happiness. Ryder pulled him close and hugged his lean body tightly, burying his face under his stubbled chin as he let out a chuckle.

"Man, you're so stubborn. What would I do without you, fucking asshole? I can't believe you are just gonna join me, in the military, no less… Thought you hated authorities?" He quietly asked.

He let out a dramatic sigh and wrapped his arms tightly around Ryder. "Yeah, well, that's not going to change either." He pulled back slightly to look down at his best friend with immense warmth in his green eyes. "But it's worth it for you, Bones. You've done so much for me. It's about time I paid that back."

He shrugs his shoulders, his eyebrows quirking upwards playfully. 

"Plus, it just means I get an excuse to kick your ass on a daily basis.

Notes:

This all started off as a idea based off of a silly TikTok POV, that spiraled into so much more. I hope you love our boys as much as we do! I promise the rest of the team will be introduced soon. <3

[recitedemise]

It's a wonder what this paladin, this warden, this woman of the spiders and the infinite dark, would see when she glances a spell his way. There's a question in her silence often there and lumbering as would voyuering phantoms. She must believe him a fraud, had suspected that his pleasantries were cloak and dagger, but to her shock and confusion in time, Gale would hope, his heart and his manners would strike her honest.

He is a man of sincerity. And he's bare with his soul. Unlike the denizens of her city and the gods that had wronged her, there's not a flavor of deception in the way he smiles.

"Oh! Of course. My apologies," he answers, far too chuffed as is to find himself cowed. "On your insistence, we can do away with any sort of giggling. Though this evening, I will not settle with less than having you moaning in delight."

She looks away, huffy over his pleasant demeanor, he's sure, and he lifts the lid to a set-aside pot. At once, a sumptuous meat-thick fragrance wafts up indulgent in a hiss of steam. Gale unveils another pot, a collections of mushrooms sat simmering with herbs, and all the waltzing of these marrying flavors... Peering up, he hazards he'll find her look of awe. "I've the suspicion you'll approve of our spread. I consulted with a lesser known book on the finer points of Menzoberranzan cuisine, and I must say, the pages within were equally as enlightening as they were daunting. Still, far be it from me to deny myself a challenge. I could think of no one better to judge whether or not I've bested it." He offers her a spoon to sample a taste herself. My, always so eager for trials and a chance to impress. / @spiderwarden, continued from here.

[strangesthirdeye]

Prologue

Unspoken Love masterlist /Chapter: 1

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Cling.. Cling..

The sound of the bell began to be heard just after the night wind blew making the bells collide with each other and produce a sound that can be said to be quite noisy. The night in the Kamar Taj was very quiet when almost all the occupants there were lulled into dreams except for a few people dressed in long robes and their heads covered with a hood who were walking in groups towards the library.

Meanwhile, a librarian who was still in charge of tidying up and looking after the library began to put some books into the labeled bookshelf. Unaware of the existence of a man who may also be the leader of the group dressed in robes and a hood, began to appear behind the librarian before some of his followers began to stand out and began to swarm the librarian such as predators preventing their food from escaping. Making the librarian pay attention.

librarian, umm let's name him Umar,(i forgot his name btw) start noticing the situation now. Meanwhile, the leader of the group began to approach Umar before some of his followers followed him. Two of his followers began to cast spells holding Umar's two hands , and the other two cast spells with sticks holding Umar's two feet. makes him lift.

Umar grimacing in pain until his mouth opened wide trying to hold back the pain. After that, one of the followers of the group began to place an iron bucket just below Umar's head before the leader of the group walked over to Umar. The leader took of his off his hood looked at Umar with a small but wicked smile. Shortly Afterwards, the leader places his hands onto his back and holding a pair of blades as he chops Umar's head off as if slaughtering a cow with a sharp machete which falls into the iron bucket.

After that, the leader started to pick up the book that Umar had just placed before he opened it and started flipping through a few pages. shortly after, the leader found the pages which has a Dark Dimension symbol in the center of the pages he wanted before tearing the pages apart and dropped the book to the floor with a loud thump.

Before he and his followers began to walk out, another silhouette in a yellow robe and a yellow hood appeared behind them.

"Master Kaecilius. That ritual will bring you only sorrow" said the woman in a yellow robe and a yellow hood or known as The Ancient One with a firm tone of voice toward Kaecilius and his followers.

The Leader or known as Kaecilius as what The Ancient One said earlier, sets his hands to his back, holding his blade as if ready to attack The Ancient One. The Ancient One walks closer with both hands on her back with her sharp gaze. Even though her face was not visible behind the hood. Kaecilius and his followers began to retreat and tried to escape by opening a portal leading to a city swiftly ran along the side of the road heading into an alley before they all stopped at the same time as they saw their own faces that looked like broken glass in front of them.

Silently, a second silhouette appeared dressed in a gray robe and hooded stopped behind them, controlling it and twisted her right hand forward making them enter the Mirror Dimension. Kaecilius turn his back as the hooded gray -robed silhouette makes a wave pattern with her hand that makes buildings around them start to move unpatterned. The Ancient One began to appear behind the woman in the gray robe with her sharp gaze.

Kaecilius began to look at the surrounding situation fiercely before looking at the two women.

"Hypocrite!" Exclaimed Kaecilius towards the two women angrily.

The Ancient One making a round pattern with both of her hands and turn the gravity as she and the woman in the gray robe hops off a wall of a building, and Kaecilius with his team do the same. The woman in the grey robe start making upward movements with both hands when the building behind them starts rolling on its own. Without wasting time, Kaecilius pulls out his blades as the others making spell and pull out their staff.

The Ancient One began to walk in front of the woman in the gray robe as fast as if trying to stop Kaecilius or his followers from attacking the woman. Both followers of Kaecilius catch her feet with their spell as she pulls her feet back and makes them fall and she hops on them making a fan being spell for cutting their spells and they two got milled by the building under them as they scream.

Then, the woman in the gray robe fights two other people and knocks them down by using a spell. Not noticing with another one behind her, the Ancient One changes the spell to a round being spell as she kicks the one who nearly stabbed the woman with a blade to the rolling building that is getting closer to them. The woman in the gray robe bowed her head toward The Ancient One. Then the woman turns the spell into a fan being spell and she tackled two of them as she throws her spell to the other people left and holds it back. The Ancient One then makes a turn around move with her hands that makes the gravity turn upside down.

Kaecilius and the other are close to the position of falling, then Kaecilius makes a portal with a round and round pattern with his hand for him and his team to escape by opening a portal to a park around London. Without wasting time, his followers hop onto that with Kaecilius still holding it open as The Ancient One and the woman still fighting three of them left. Then Kaecilius hops onto the portal and closes it as The Ancient One and the woman knocks out the three people, and stares as the portal closes. The woman in the gray robe began to scoffed angrily.

"coward" said the woman in the gray robe quietly.

The Ancient One rewinds the rolling building and makes it as if none of this happened and hops of the building to the ground and she makes a portal out of the mirror dimension to the real world and walks through the street along with the woman in the gray robe before The Ancient One removes her hood showing her bald head and the woman in the gray robe starts removes her hood showing her short dark brown hair.

                ドクター・ストレンジ

[gunslinginnhogtyin]

"Don't chase the rabbit" - Kairi (i sent one before this, you can answer one/the other or both if you so choose! <3)

Send me "Don't chase the rabbit" and your muse will be shown a random memory from my muse's past. // @as-above-rp

“Butch?”

Butch freezes in the midst of tip toeing past his father.

“Have ya finished cleanin’ the stables?”

Butch nods and his father glances back at him, bushy brows furrowed.

“I can’t hear yer head rattlin’, boy.”

“…Yeah, Pops, th’ stables’re clean. Can I go play with th’ baby cows now?” The child asks hopefully, wringing his hands nervously.

“Now, there’s plenty more work t’be done ‘round here… ‘sides, those fella’s are gonna be food soon enough. Best not to get too attached.”

Butch frowns at that.

“Don’t go tellin’ him things like that.” Butch’s mother, Beatrice, scolds as she enters the room, holding a large bowl of eggs she had just collected from the chicken pin.

“Don’t raise yer voice at me, woman.” Ernest sneers.

“Ain’t no one raisin’ their voice, ya bull. He’s six. F’he wants t’play with the cows, let ‘im.”

Butch smiles to himself, happy his mother is on his side but that quickly changes when his father snaps.

“Don’t tell me how t’raise my son.”

Beatrice sighs and rolls her eyes, making her way into the kitchen. “I really don’t wanna do this right now…”

“Do what? Yer th’ one pickin’ fights! You want that boy to be a WIMP!”

“Oh my lord, Ernest, honestly—yer overreacting.” Beatrice huffs tiredly, setting the eggs on the counter.

“Tch, I don’t expect you t’be showin’ ‘im anythin’ useful, anyhow.” Ernest walks over, gripping Butch’s arm and dragging him along as he walks out of the house. Butch stumbles along but doesn’t hesitate, knowing what would happen if he displayed any sort of resistance towards his father.

“Why don’t we play with the horses instead? I’ll show ya how to ride. Yer old ‘nough to learn by now, anyhow. And it ain’t a useless skill like cookin.”

The little blonde blinks in surprise and in an instant, he’s grinning excitedly. His Pops never wants to do anything fun like that; in fact, the last time he had asked, he got yelled at! He’s practically skipping alongside his father now.

Crossing the field, they come to a stop by a fence where a couple of saddles rested on one of the posts. Releasing his sons arm, he grabs one of the saddles and holds it out for Butch to take.

“You’ve seen yer ol’ man saddle up a horse b’fore. Go on.” The child reaches out to grip the saddle but when the weight of it is released by his father, Butch tumbles to the ground with it.

“G-Gosh, this’s… heavy! I don’t think—“

“F’ya wanna ride a horse, ya gotta put its saddle on! Pick th’ damn thing up.” Ernest says sternly, scowling down at his son. When his father took that tone, that’s when the fun was over.

While Butch watches his father wander off to retrieve one of the horses, he struggles to pick the saddle up. The thing weighs just as much as he does! When all is said and done, the six year old had managed to heave it onto his back, his legs wobbling with each step he takes towards the horse Ernest had led over.

“Go on.” He urges.

With trembling legs, Butch reels back and gives his best throw which actually isn’t all that great because the saddle comes crashing down on top of him, causing him to topple over with a yelp.

“Can’t ya do nothin’ right?”

Hearing a heavy sigh come from his father, he suddenly feels a lot lighter as that saddle is lifted off of him and fastened onto the horse, his father complaining all the while.

“If yer mother didn’t treat ya like a sissy, ya might actually be good fer somethin. When I was yer age…” Ernest continues to gripe on as Butch brings himself back to his feet.

He staves off the feeling of having the wind knocked out of him and moves closer to the horse, gripping the saddle just as his Pops had finished fastening it on. Then, he attempts to pull himself up onto the horse, struggling a good bit since he barely comes up past the horses mid section. He falls over more than once, losing his balance or his grip every now and again. After hearing some more chiding from his father, he manages to hop and climb his way up onto the large stallion, all by himself!

“I did it!” Butch exclaims tiredly but excitedly, carefully taking the reigns.

“Yeah, yeah—that’s th’ easy part.” His father comments with a scoff.

Giving a tug on the reigns, the horse begins to walk. A smile had found its way back on his face; he was doing it! He was riding a horse all by himself! He couldn’t wait to tell his Ma when he got back to the house!

The child’s excitement is cut short however when the horse suddenly begins to act up, as if it had been spooked by something. Neighing loudly in agitation, the stallion jerks about and thrashes, Butch hanging on for dear life and screaming all the while. Unfortunately he’s not able to hold on much longer, his fingers slip when in one rough motion, the horse bucks hard and he flies off, hitting the ground with a crack.

The moment he hits the ground, a jolt of pain runs through his body—his arm more specifically. Taking a deep breath in, the child clutches his arm and cries out, writhing on the ground in pain. Looking around frantically through blurry tears for his father, he finds his silhouette standing some ways away, just watching.

In another moment he sees his mother storming over to his father; he can’t hear any yelling over the sound of his own crying but he knows that’s what’s happening. A push, a shove, a slap, and a punch later, his mother is at his side, scooping him up into her arms carefully but quickly and rushing towards the house. He can hear his heart beat pounding in his ears and suddenly everything goes black.

When he comes to, he finds himself in his bed. His arm aches and he quickly takes notice of the splint holding his arm in place. Luckily his mother is at his side, easing his nerves with a soft song and brushing her fingers through his hair.

[captainswanapproved]

The Black Queen: A Scene By Scene Reaction and Analysis of the House of The Dragon Season 1 Finale

Okay folks. This is going to be long (3k+ words), so if you want to see me talk about Team Black for hundreds of words, this post is for you!

In opening with Lucerys and Rhaenyra and highlighting their strong relationship, they are setting the stage for the end of the episode, when that bond is so tragically broken.

In this scene we see just how young Luke is. He is in no way prepared to do his duties. He is terrified of taking his place in Driftmark and failing his family.

Rhaenyra is such an amazing mother in this scene. She is both honest and reassuring. She does not pretend to be perfect, and by hearing of his mother's journey, I think Luke is reassured that maybe, just maybe, he will one day be worthy of his inheritance.

_____

I really love the way Rhaenys just jumps in with the news of Viserys's death. She does not participate in the niceties because she knows there is no time to waste. And at this point, Rhaenyra hasn't really earned her loyalty. There is still anger there, but Rhaenys goes to Dragonstone out of a strong sense of family duty.

Rhaenyra and Daemon's expressions of heartbreak and shock are crushing.

When Rhaenys tells them of Aegon's crowning, you can see how Rhaenyra feels utterly betrayed. Daemon's inquiry of the cause of his brother's death is so soft and gentle. There is real love in that tone, and it is amazing deliver by Matt.

I love Daemon's suspicion of the Greens and how he accuses Rhaenys of inaction. He was just stating the obvious as he always has, no matter who might take offense.

Rhaenys is not cowed by Daemon, and stands firm in her position that it is not her war to begin. And she is right. The Greens stole Rhaenyra's throne, so it is Rhaenyra who deserves to make the answering blow. This shows that Rhaenys is truly considering siding with Rhaenyra, despite the bad blood between them. She does not bend the knee later at the coronation, but I would argue that this is the equivalent of bending the knee, and allowing the true Queen to decide what must be done.

-----

Rhaenyra feels the stab of pain in her abdomen. She lifts her skirts to check for signs of labor complications and her hand come back bloody.

This is a great callback to Aemma's belief that the birthing bed is a woman's battle field. Just as a civil was is coming, Rhaenyra must face a different war entirely, and first blood has already been drawn.

------

The mood is so solemn. Everyone knows that this will not end well. The midwives try to reassure Rhaenyra, but she is having none of it.

This is medieval times, and men did not belong in the birthing room. Daemon knows that the Greens are coming for them. He cannot help his wife with her current maternal battle, so he begins preparations for the battle to come.

Daemon is calm, cool, collected, and strategic. This is an abrupt shift from his usual chaotic impulsiveness. He is finally able to put all his tactical and warfare knowledge to good use after years away from the battlefield. He is in his element, and this serves as an excellent distraction from his fear for the fate of his wife, who he can hear crying out in agony. We all know that Daemon is not the best at facing emotional trauma.

______

I've seen some say that Jace is being overly harsh with Luke, but I don't read it that way. I am sure that Luke has confided in his brother about his fears. In his way, as brothers do, Luke is trying to make his brother stronger. He gives no quarter and mocks him for his poor form. It is harsh, but the world they live in is brutal, and an enemy will not be kind.

_____

I admire Rhaenyra's strength so much as she is in labor. It is not a man's strength, but it is the strength of a mother and a queen.

She knows she may not survive this birth, and is acting to prepare for that possibility even while dealing with incredible agony.

She breaks the news and Jace, I would argue is equally quick in his desire to act. The difference between him and Daemon is that Jace is not going to act without his mother's consent.

He also knows that he will need to rein Daemon in, as his mother is not in a position to do so. He is his mother's heir, and he steps into his duty with alacrity.

_____

Lord Corlys is sailing. Arguably, Corlys is Rhaenyra's most valuable potential ally and Daemon needs to know what the Sea Snake will do.

Rhaenyra calls out for Daemon, but I don't read it as a cry for comfort. It is a call of restraint, because Rhaenyra knows her husband better than anyone.

Daemon is so eager to act, to fly to the Riverlands himself, but when Jace delivers his mother's wishes, Daemon listens to Jace (a teenage boy) because he is the voice of Daemon's wife and queen, and no matter how much he wishes to act, he follows her commands.

Since he cannot leave Dragonstone, he takes steps to shore up the defenses at Dragonstone, beginning with the knights. He takes Luke under his wing and shows him how crucial loyalty is during a war.

He forces the knights to reaffirm their support for Rhaenyra as the queen, and Jace as her heir.

His method of doing this is harsh but honorable. Daemon shows his sense of honor and fair play here.He offers the knights a choice and is honest about the consequences should they choose wrong. The consequence of treachery is a brutal death. The consequence of not swearing themselves to Rhaenyra's cause is a clean death. There is honor in that. We have seen it before in Game of Thrones.

"Know that you will die screaming." We love a callback!

Rhaenyra continues to refuse help because she knows that no one can help her. This is a battle she must face herself.

This was the hardest scene for me to watch. I have seen that gush of blood and fluid first hand. And I want to be an OB nurse.

It is horrific. Some believe it is gratuitously graphic, and maybe it is. But this is a show about the horrors of life, and birth can be just as brutal as war.

Rhaenyra again shows her strength by pulling the babe out herself, while practically standing, and folks, let me tell you, that is not easy!

The baby is stillborn. The midwives are heartbroken and crying. Rhaenyra is devastated. She takes her baby, her only daughter, in her arms. This is the first concrete loss that Rhaenyra has to suffer because of the war.

Daemon sees his wife grieving and rocking their baby. There is nothing he can say that will improve the situation, and even if there was, we know that Daemon isn't a man of words. He feels emotions very deeply, but he cannot properly express them.

Though Daemon and Rhaenyra share a strong marital bond, this grief is something they will have to process individually.

Rhaenyra's insistance on doing the post mortem care is incredibly touching and equally heartbreaking. I was crying as I watched it the first time.

_________

Both Rhaenyra and Daemon have grieved on their own, and now they stand together to burn their only daughter. Daemon looks to Rhaenyra, and you can see his concern for her.

Enter Ser Erryk. He kneels before his queen presenting the symbol of her birthright; Viserys's crown.

Unlike Aegon, who was crowned with the crown of the conqueror. This is an excellent visual cue of whom to root for, posing Aegon II as the conquerer and usurper, and Rhaenyra as the heir to her father's peaceful legacy.

I think it is very telling that Daemon is featured during Ser Erryk's vows. It is meant to show Daemon's unfailing loyalty to his wife and queen.

Daemon never wanted the throne, not truly. What mattered more to him was protecting his brother's, and now Rhaenyra's reign. He may have a different idea of what is necessary to protect that claim, but his devotion to his family and their claim to the Iron Throne is there.

This is my favorite parallel in the entire season. Daemon crowning his wife, just as he helped his brother with his crown. If Daemon really wanted the throne, the show runners would have had someone else crown Rhaenyra.

We see Rhaenyra's awe of the moment. She has been preparing almost her entire life for this day. Her coronation is not a spectacle like Aegon's. I would argue that the Greens needed the spectacle to establish a facade of righteousness and send the message that Aegon is the "true" king.

Rhaenyra's coronation is intimate and beautiful, showing that hers is the true claim. Every single person there is loyal to her (except for Rhaenys, who is withholding judgement, but she is not making a spectacle of herself) , unlike all the small folk who didn't really care about Aegon until he had his accoutrement.

The music is swelling, glorious and victorious.

_______

The painted table is one of the most beautiful shots of this season, and maybe of the entire visual world of ASIOF.

Daemon announces his Queen, taking no titles for himself. He is her loyal King Consort!

Rhaena is showing her loyalty to her queen. (I am honestly hoping that Rhaena will take the place of one of the dragonseeds.) Rhaeynra calls both Rhaena and Baela to her side, because they are just as much her family as her own children.

Daemon is so knowledgeable as he tells Rhaenyra of all their resources.

And Rhaenyra is proves her knowledge of the various lords.

"There has never lived a Stark who forgot an oath!" - My heart skipped a beat at this line, because my loyalty as a viewer has always been to the Starks. I can't wait to see them. Also, we are reminded of how the Starks are the key to the North, the largest of the Seven Kingdoms.

I still love that Rhaenys isn't intimidated by Daemon. It's just great.

Rhaenyra understands the importance of the Velaryons to her cause, and she plays the game perfectly as she praises the Velaryon house and fleet.

No one cares about the West and the Lannisters. But the Riverlands are absolutely crucial.

I love the dragon math. Daemon believes they are the key to victory, but Rhaenyra reminds Daemon that the other side has dragons as well, and that their own dragons are largely untested in battle.

And Daemon talks about the riderless dragons, and the camera shifts to Rhaena. My girl is going to claim one of those dragons, I just know it. Nettles who?

Daemon is so eager to deal with the Greens swiftly. You can see the need Rhaenyra has to rein in her husband, ever the Rogue Prince.

The Greens arrive and Daemon seizes Dark Sister, ready to defend his wife against their greatest enemy, let's go!!!!!

__________

This bridge scene is the PERFECT parallel to the scene in 1x02.

Otto is a cunt and a traitor, blustering about his stupid king and failing to give Rhaenyra the respect and title that she is owed.

Rhaenyra, a true queen arrives on Syrax. When she was young, she and Daemon were on opposite sides, and now they stand together. And Daemon is such a proud husband.

Rhaenyra shows her strength, but she also shows her restraint and willing to listen, which is an important quality in a just monarch.

"I would rather feed my sons to the dragons than have them carry shields and cups for your drunken usurper cunt of a king!" We stan!

No one cares about your facade of legitimacy Otto. You need to die. He is such a terrible, social climbing cunt, just as Daemon told Viserys all those years ago.

The book page is a dirty and weak trick. Rhaenyra should have ripped it to shreds.

Demon wanting so bad to end this farce and kill Otto. We stan! Yet one word from his queen, and Daemon stands down. We love to see that unwavering loyalty from an agent of chaos.

________

Rhaenyra shows her strength and benevolence. She does not want to be a queen of ash and bone. She is weighing the cost to the realm, as any noble monarch would.

Daemon, bless his heart, will never be as noble as Rhaenyra. His patience is starting to crack. I don't think he wants to burn everything. I just think he is more realistic about the cost of war and putting down a usurper and a rebellion. Meanwhile, Rhaenyra is a peaceful idealist, and her father's true heir.

Her hesitance to go to war is honorable and highlights her worthiness of the throne, which is in stark contrast to Daemon.

The domestic conflict between Daemon and Rhaenyra is building.

Daemon argues openly, and this in not a good look for Rhaenyra as the new queen to have her Consort openly challenging her.

I love how Rhaenys is here for the drama. She's a little petty, but I can't say I blame her.

____________

Daemon is always honest and straightforward, just as he was with Viserys. He is not an idealist, he is a realist. And idealists like Rhaenyra and Viserys need someone like Daemon to balance them out.

I've already written a meta about my thoughts on this particular moment of the episode, which you can find here.

Again, it's a fight between realism and idealism, and it is wonderful to watch this conflict come to a head. Daemon snaps, but I think it has less to do with Rhaenyra and more about his frustration with his brother.

Still, when he sees that he isn't getting through to Rhaenyra, he releases her.

In my meta about this scene, I said that she mocked him, and I still think that this is true, on a second viewing I read the expression on Rhaenyra's face after Daemon releases her as one of understanding and acceptance. She gets why he is acting this way, and she does not hold it against him even though they disagree.

Also, I think for a moment there is a little bit of sadness before her pride at being her father's true heir comes to the fore.

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Corlys and his joke, man he is so silly, and he is trying to lighten the moment.

I want to talk about an interesting parallel between this scene and the beach scene between Daemon and Rhaenyra in episode 1x07.

Rhaenys is in the same position as Rhaenyra was all those years ago. Abandoned by the man she loved. Corlys and Daemon bothe have a history of pursuing glory and personal gain, and both have/had a strong desire to see their wives on the iron throne.

Rhaenys talks about how they have lost two children, and by the end of the episode so will Rhaenyra and Daemon.

Corlys and Rhaenys start the scene essentially divided as a couple, but then by the end of the scene they are back on the same page.

This echoes Daemon and Rhaenyra, divided at the beginning and throughout much of the episode, and united by the end, because of the death of their children. Don't touch me, it hurts!

I have to laugh at how Corlys and Rhaenys also parallel Laenor and Rhaenyra. Corlys wants to get the hell away from all the political games, just as Laenor did, but Rhaenys reminds him that their family's lives are at stake, just as Rhaenyra had to remind Laenor.

And now we finally see that Rhaenyra has won Rhaenys's loyalty. Seriously, I wish they would tell the Velaryons that Laenor is actually alive, but at this point that may do more harm than good.

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We love a good power couple entrance.

"Hope is the fool's ally." This is a gentler version of what Daemon has been trying to communicate to Rhaenyra. Hope is noble, as is the wish for peace, but it will not win the day in circumstances such as these.

Finally, the Velaryons declare for Rhaenyra. And again, Corlys is echoing Daemon's sentiment that the Hightower treason cannot stand. He's just more diplomatic about it, and Rhaenyra is wise enough to listen when more than one of her supporters voices the same advice.

Still, she is still holding on to a little bit of hope for unity.

"If war's first stroke is to fall, it will not be by my hand." Oh, just you wait. The first stroke is coming. But her restraint is truly admirable and it shows her great respect for the high lords and allies.

Rhaenyra gains confidence as she realizes that they have a tactical advantage. She is bolstered by the support of the Velaryons. She has a great strategic mind. She doesn't want to lead her men into a suicide mission. She balances out Daemon, and even though he's not in the scene, it is evident why they are such a good team.

Baby Jace, no. You and your brother need to stay here! And really, they should, but they are ready to do their duty and become envoys to their mother's cause. They are perfect little princes.

LORD CREGAN STARK, let's go!

Baby Luke, nooooooooooooo.

"We must remind the lords of the oaths they swore, and the cost of breaking them."

This is a parallel to Daemon's earlier discussion with Jace. Rhaenyra's approach may not be as harsh, but it all comes to the same thing. Send the dragons to remind the lords/knights of their vows and the consequences of breaking them.

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Rhaenyra is trying her best to impress upon her sons the importance of diplomacy. It is too bad that the Greens do not share her honor.

Luke calling her "mother" before "your grace" breaks me. They love each other so much!

I love Rhaenyra's faith in her children, even though this faith gets brutally punished.

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Despite their differences, Daemon knows that the dragons are key to the success of the war. It may be a little bit of a suicide mission because of all Daemon has lost, and in that scene by the fire, he might have felt that he had lost Rhaenyra, or that he would lose her very soon because of her dream for peace. He knows that in Westeros, you win or you die. And he is doing all he can to assure a win for this wife. Even if it means waking a giant and cranky sleeping dragon who might have him as a snack.

Matt Smith singing in High Valyrian does something to me. Also this is an awesome callback to Tyrion with Daenerys's dragon, and we love to see it.

The shot with Vermithor and Daemon's eyes showing a new bond also does things to me.

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Holy hell, Vhagar is a monster. Luke is so brave. I would have run.

Luke conducts himself with such honor, decorum, and composure. Aemond could never.

Lord Borros is a cunt.

Strike that, Lord Borros is an illiterate cunt.

Aemond is a little immature bitch boy, but even I have to admit that he does serve face for days, and that sapphire eye is a look! That little knife twirl does something to me too, I'm sorry.

But also, I hate him. And I can't wait for Daemon and Dark Sister to end his existence.

Okay, Borros at least has one shred of honor left.

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My poor little Arrax is so scared! He is just a baby!

That visual showing the sheer size difference between Vhagar and Arrax is visually stunning and terrifying.

Aemond's maniacal laugh and speaking High Valyrian threats serve him well as an antagonist.

Noooooooo, Arrax. Vhagar is a crusty old bitch!

Aemond's hubris and lust for vengeance cause the death of one of the purest characters in this story, and I hate him for it.

That look is not one of remorse, but one of horror that he started a civil war. I don't think he will regret it. I think this act will corrupt him further.

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Daemon and Rhaenyra coming together in the wake of tragedy is so beautiful. My heart exploded.

It is a testament to Emma's acting that you could feel the full extent of Rhaenyra's pain without seeing her face.

And then that final look?

Rhaenyra has found her fire again. She and Daemon will be on the same page, burn together and commit so many war crimes. But I still believe she will curb his worst impulses at times.

Still, I wonder if Blood and Cheese will be more Rhaenyra's doing. I really hope so, even though it will be brutal.

This episode was phenomenal. I loved almost every minute of it. If any of you have read this whole post, I thank you.

Daemon and Rhaenyra still have the most beautiful relationship of the show and I am stoked to see them in season 2.