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bri-sonat · 1 year

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Kisses Of Fire

Follow-up to Life Eternal

Pairing: Brienne of Tarth x Fem!Knight!Reader

Warnings: NSFW!! Major GoT spoilers, descriptions of violence & blood, angst, SMUTTY SMUT, oral sex, praise kink, semi-public sex, a tiny bit of angst again, fluff.

A/N: so as i was writing this i realized i totally made up my own timeline, oopsie, so i should clarify. the first two fics (enjoy the silence & life eternal) took place post the long night and pre the end. this fic catches up to that. this is (by my own opinion and admission) not my best work, but i've been working on it for so long and it's been approved for public reading, so, here it is. the finale. the end of our two beloved knights' love story. blah blah blah english is not my first language (obligatory warning). i hope the ending is satisfactory to all, enjoy!

big thanks to my dear bestie aron (@queerofalltrades) for reading through it and giving it the stamp of approval, and for helping me with the idea for this fic, without them, this fic wouldn't exist. and spouse heather (@pastanest) for helping me compact complicated GoT plot and for explaining more GoT customs to me.

It had been five months since that fateful night by the stables when your love had screamed after you with all her might with tears in her eyes.

That had also been the last time she had communicated with you at all.

You had sent her ravens, every Sunday for the past months, concluding your week, talking about your father's passing, and your mother. No message was ever sent back but your own, unopened and unread. Despite this you kept sending them, to keep your oath and to let her know you thought about her, every single day.

In your messages to her, you often mentioned things you saw during your day that reminded you of her. Like the bright blue sky, equally as bright as her eyes and smile. The setting sun, just as beautiful and breathtaking as her. Any time you saw something dark blue, much reminding you of the unique armor she always donned.

These small details were added for her to know that you hadn’t forgotten her and that she was always on your mind; had she read them, she would’ve been made aware of this fact.

You couldn’t blame her for ignoring your messages. She was upset that you left, that you didn’t listen to her cries. That you had made her fall in love, and that you ripped her heart out of her chest.

What you couldn’t understand, however, was her stubbornness, she knew you had no choice. In fact, she would’ve done the same had her father gotten ill, considering she’s his only heir. The only difference was she would’ve let you come with her; she would’ve begged you to.

She would have hired you as her main bodyguard, as her master-at-arms, as Commander of her troops, she would have hired you as anything if it meant always having you at her side. Even as she ruled over Tarth.

That was the difference between her and you, she had obligations and could not join you, even when she desperately wanted to, you, however, could join her. You weren’t sworn to anyone but your family, Brienne, and the Gods, there was work for knights everywhere, you could go wherever you wished.

She went where her loyalties led her, and her loyalties always led her to the daughters of Lady Catelyn Stark. Despite the Lady’s murder at the red wedding years prior, the honorable blonde kept serving the daughters, because death did not release her from her vows. You admired her extreme loyalty and virtue, there weren’t many people like her left in the world you lived in, everyone was either greedy, monsters, liars, or all three.

Your unopened scrolls started to pile up on your desk and you wondered how long she would keep this up. Your patience only lasted for so long and you couldn’t deny the pang of hurt that surged through you and your heart when yet another message was returned, unread. After a while, you started to wonder if she had even received your ravens at all.

About one month after you had arrived at your family’s residence in Lemonwood, your father passed due to his illness, leaving you and your mother as the attendees of the family business.

The four months that passed after that were spent keeping up the trade, meeting shipments at Planky Town as they came in from the Westerosi coast and the Free Cities of Essos, comforting your mother, and sending unrequited ravens to Brienne.

To honor your duties as a knight, you offered your help to the Martell family, having history with them that went all the way back to your grandfather's childhood. The only living one of them called for you every now and then for advice, or just to help patrol around Sunspear.

You were a familiar face for most, having spent a lot of time in the city growing up, and you recognized some people as well, stopping to have a chat with some; and others, you just gave a polite nod to considering where you knew them from.

Brienne was a constant on your mind, even when you received the news one week after your arrival of Kings Landing crumbling, the deaths of Jaime and Cersei Lannister, and Jon Snow assassinating Daenerys Targaryen.

A few weeks after the fall of the capital and the deaths, Prince Martell had to leave for unstated business in Kings Landing. He had asked you to look over things while he was away and you accepted, not inquiring what said business was about.

He had returned about a week later and stated that Bran the Broken had taken the now melted Iron Throne and that The North had been established as an independent kingdom with Sansa as its ruler. The mention of her name brought forth memories of the last time you had spoken to her, recollections of Brienne, and eventually evocations of her by the stables.

You had no news of your knight; you did not even know if she was alive.

You desperately wanted to ask Prince Martell about Brienne. Just a simple, ‘My Lord, was there a tall blonde by Sansa Starks’ side?’ would have been adequate, but you hadn’t dared to verbalize the query in case the answer was no. If the answer was no, it meant that she was no longer alive, because your knight was always by the redhead's side as her sworn sword.

Part of you hoped that if she had met her untimely death, you’d be notified; but had to come to terms with that there would be no reason for anyone to think of doing so.

Around the same time of Prince Martell's return from Kings Landing, your raven returned, however, something was different this time. The bird carried both your scroll and another. You had hoped it was from Brienne, disappointment settled in when you saw that it wasn’t.

The words on the Stark stationary were very few, only there to convey the brief piece of information necessary. Despite the lack of long and many sentences, the small amount was exactly what you needed to hear.

“Brienne no longer resides in Winterfell. She has relocated to the White Sword Tower in Kings Landing. – Sansa Stark.”

She was alive. A flood of relief washed over you but was quickly replaced by sadness and confusion. She was alive but ignored your messages; and she was in the King's Guard, of course.

You read the message again and detected that Brienne's and Sansa’s titles were missing in the message, meaning she had forsaken professionalism. This led you to the conclusion that she somehow knew about you and your knight's infatuation with each other. It gave you a sense of calmness, knowing that you would have been notified had she perished.

It then broke your heart, realizing that the blonde couldn’t let go of her pride for one second to personally let you know of her relocating, she had to have someone else do it for her. You would have expected her to tell you so herself but apparently, that was too highly anticipated of you, so silly of you to think that she could be bothered to tell you personally, how unreasonable, how idiotic.

There were whispers of a new Lord Commander, but no one knew who they were, only that the King's Guard now only consisted of two knights. You knew that Brienne was one of the members, considering her new residency but still had no idea who the Commander could be considering they had no distinguishing marks to tell them apart from the rest of the guard.

So, until it was confirmed who had filled the position, it was unknown information and you made it a habit to spike your ears whenever you heard people mention ‘Lord Commander’ in conversation, hoping to learn what everyone was curious to know.

———

Brienne’s life had been quite non-identical. She had spent the entire week after your departure mourning you. She noticed your absence in everything: her bed, her heart, breakfast, training, dinner, and the void was particularly draining after her patrols when your usual midnight meetings would occur. She had gotten used to your touch, now the only thing she felt was the cold hand of complete loneliness.

During your stay, Brienne's squire, Podrick, had noticed the taller knight's infatuation with you and stayed away, giving you the space to speak uninhibitedly. You had not met him but had heard such wonderful stories of their adventures together. He instead lurked in the background, training with your love when you had split off during the day.

With you gone, he had proven to be a comforting presence for Brienne, but the hole left inside of her was still gaping, a void that only you could seal. She trained him whenever she had free time, which was more often with you not there, and he grew stronger and stronger for each day that passed.

Sometime after the Battle of Kings Landing, Brienne traveled to the Dragonpit to represent Tarth in the trial of Tyrion Lannister. From what she had been told by Sansa whose opinion she valued most amongst those present at the trial, Daenerys had gone against his advice, he had then denounced himself as her Hand, resulting in imprisonment for his defiance.

Jon Snow, who Brienne had come to conclude was a good man after the time spent with him at Sansa's side, had then had a conversation with Tyrion within the cell he was held in, before murdering Daenerys.

During the trial, Brienne sat and listened to Tyrion as he advised the gathered council to elect a new King to decide his fate. Expressing his reasoning, he suggested Brandon Stark. At this, the blonde knight assented, as did everyone else.

Brandon Stark then met Sansa’s demand for the North to once again become its own sovereign kingdom, as it was for thousands of years.

Tyrion’s punishment, as decided by King Bran, was to reclaim his position as Hand to the monarch and amend his previous mistakes in the same position, under previous rulers, for the rest of his life. Though the Lannister strongly opposed this idea, that only made the punishment more just, as, to him, it was not the reward that many would take the position to be.

However, the minute Brienne had assented by saying ‘aye,’ she was ashamed to admit how little of her attention she devoted to the trial due to her mind being occupied by thoughts of you, but alas, that was her fate. She was well aware of the people around her and what decisions were made but she couldn’t have cared less.

She had acknowledged your ravens, she just didn’t have the strength to open them, to read about your life without her. She knew she was being unreasonable, and she chastised herself for it. Despite how well aware she was of her unwarranted and irrational behavior, she ignored them, but you just kept sending them and it got harder and harder for Brienne to just leave the inviting scrolls; however, she knew it would only hurt her more to read about your Dorne adventures.

In hindsight, however, those messages would’ve been something much more joy-inducing to have of yours, compared to the only thing she had in her possession.

After the trial, Bran had approached Brienne, and offered her the position of Lord Commander in his Kings Guard, he was a very blunt man, the King, and she had been a bit surprised with just how candid he was. She had managed to hide her initial reaction and had humbly accepted his offer. Sworn the oath at the Stark’s request and stated that her squire is yet to be knighted and that she would do so with haste.

Podrick was ready and had been for a while, but she was called to Kings Landing for the trial before she had the opportunity to knight him. This worked out in his favor however, considering being knighted by someone from the King's Guard and the Lord Commander of it, was seen as prestigious; and would earn him substantially more respect than if she would’ve knighted him when she was still a knight herself.

The King had nodded at her declaration, “I will ask Sansa to have someone pack up and send your belongings here. Tell your squire to come see me as soon as he is a knight. In the meantime, I believe we have some measurements to get for your new armor.”

“Your Grace, there is no need for that. I have no belongings in Winterfell I’d like to keep. I brought everything important with me.”

“Are you sure, Lord Brienne?”

“Yes, Sire.”

“Very well. Now, come with me.”

Podrick, who had followed Brienne from Winterfell to Kings Landing, had been approached by the taller knight the day after the trial.

He had a puzzled expression on his face as he watched her and she knew he had a question to ask, she would have preferred if he had kept his mouth shut about it but had allowed him to ask it anyways; regretting it as soon as he spoke.

“Lord Commander?” Hesitant in his tone, he had looked up apologetically at Brienne with the hope that she wouldn’t scold him for granting his inquisitiveness to take over.

“Yes, Podrick?” She stared down at him and she could almost see the gears that had been turning in his head; looking for the most well-mannered way to phrase the words that followed.

“I apologize for what I am about to ask but I am afraid curiosity has gotten the best of me. Whatever happened with the knight from Dorne?” She released a sigh, there it was.

“I do not wish to speak of them, not because there is anger but because there’s too much pain.” Brienne had remained stoic in her answer and in her facial expressions, but her insides had been bleeding, almost like she had been impaled by a sword and left to die, bathing in a pool of her own blood.

That was the first and only time she and Podrick ever spoke about your departure. The shorter man had opened his mouth to say something else but was quickly interjected by Brienne. “Come along Podrick. There’s something we need to do.”

“Yes, My Lord.”

As they walked through the ruins of Kings Landing, Brienne wondered if she should’ve been the one to send a raven to inform you of her move to another kingdom, but she hadn’t been able to bring herself to do so.

She had instead asked Sansa if she would send one, to which she agreed. The redhead had seen the affection you held for each other and knew that there was more to your seemingly professional relationship. Brienne hadn’t known the reason for the Stark’s compliance but was grateful for it either way.

All the memories that had been created in Winterfell were painful for Brienne and she found it almost relieving that she didn’t have to return, there was too much sadness there. She did not know when you would return to her, even if it had only been around one month since you had left, so leaving all the woeful memories behind was easier than she had thought.

The happier ones were harder though, the memories in the courtyard, her room, the mess hall, the bathhouse, your room. The room where she had found the letter that changed everything.

She had kept the note. It was now stained with dried tears, the paper damaged by the salty drops; ink smudged in various places. She kept it somewhere safe, out of sight from wandering eyes but close by.

It was read every single night with tears in her eyes before she went to sleep, desperately trying to remember what your voice sounded like, to no avail.

She had brought it with her to Kings Landing for the trial, not wanting to leave without it. Reading through your words had become routine, and it had gotten to the point where she could not sleep if she did not read your letter before bed. It was one of the first personal items to take its home in her new living quarters.

Brienne and Podrick had walked in silence as he took in the crumbled kingdom. The fire had stopped but the damage was still apparent. Blackened remains of destroyed buildings and dried blood on the ground.

The charred corpses had been moved the day before, given a proper burial in unmarked graves, at Tyrion’s request. To have it done within a day, the blue-eyed knight had assisted; her strong arms able to carry double the weight.

It had been a grisly sight, and even Brienne, who had seen plenty of violence in her days, had felt a hint of nausea and sorrow go through her at the sight of the destruction. The smell hadn’t made it any better.

The two had turned a corner and Brienne entered a large building that surprisingly hadn’t been affected by the attack, far enough away from the dragon's path of destruction. The room had been dimmed, rays of sun coming in from the small windows lining the walls; standing along it was Tyrion, his small form lurking in the darkness.

The tall knight stopped abruptly in the middle of the room, Podrick had done the same a couple of feet behind her to avoid crashing into Brienne’s back.

“Tyrion is here to bear witness. I told him that there was no need, but he insisted.” Her voice had been flat, stern. She had turned on her heels, faced him, and pulled out her sword from its sheath, the metal scraping against metal had echoed, the sound bouncing between the bare walls.

“Kneel, Podrick Payne.” He had gotten down on one knee in front of Brienne, gazing up at her, and she had proceeded to lay her sword on his left shoulder, her eyes boring into his. “In the name of the Warrior, I charge you to be brave.”

She had shifted the metal of her blade to his right shoulder, carefully placing it down, mindful of the sharpness of the sword's edge. “In the name of the Father, I charge you to be just.”

She had switched shoulders again, the metal of the sword gliding in the air. “In the name of the Mother, I charge you to defend the innocent.” She placed her sword back into her scabbard before she had stated her last words, “Arise, Podrick Payne, a knight of the Six Kingdoms.”

One month after your departure, Brienne had knighted Podrick. After this, she and Tyrion took him to see Bran, just as he had requested one day prior. The King had asked him to prove his fighting skills, suggesting he spar against his teacher, “Lord Brienne has trained you and I have no doubts in her skill, I am sure you are more than qualified. It is just a formality. I’m sure you understand, Ser Podrick.”

“Of course, your Grace.”

They had stepped out into a large somewhat empty clearing to give the two knights the space they required, and Podrick had proved his swordsmanship by fighting the blonde, King Bran being more than satisfied after seeing him hold his own against Brienne’s powerful blows.

“That’s quite enough. I can tell Lord Brienne would floor you if we kept going and I need you both in prime health. Approach and kneel.”

Podrick, who had read every book the word ‘knight’ was mentioned in and who had Brienne teach him everything she knew, had gotten down on one knee, and sworn the oath of the King's Guard, just like the tall woman had the day before.

“I swear to ward the King with all my strength, and give my blood for his. I shall take no wife, hold on lands, father no children. I shall guard his secrets, obey his commands, ride at his side, and defend his name and honor.”

“Arise.”

With this, Podrick had been integrated into the King's Guard and Tyrion had taken him away for measurements. Brienne had asked Bran what she was to do until the resources for reparations arrived, and he had in turn told her to assess the damage done to the armory, and see if anything needed to be replaced. And to update the Book of Brothers: to complete Jaime’s entry, and add her own. She had done so with haste.

Two weeks later, the supplies arrived in Kings Landing which was still in ruins. She, together with Tyrion, had met them at the Gate of the Gods, which was a large hole in a wall after the dragon attack, clad in her new shiny gold armor with extensive white enameling and a white cloak draped over her tall form.

She had come to stand by Tyrion’s side to discuss something, but he had asked her to stay when she moved to leave his side, it was mostly so she could act as a waypoint, of sorts, for the convoy. It was also so he could analyze her up close.

The small council had held a meeting and discussed what would come next, the reparations of the kingdom had been a unanimous agreement. They had wanted to rebuild the brothels first, but Brienne had quickly expressed her disapproval at the thought of prioritizing them over the rebuilds of the royal fleet, which clearly took precedence due to the lack of ships following the war.

The four months that followed after the arrival of the supplies were filled with Brienne overlooking some of the construction whenever she didn’t have anything else to do and performing her Lord Commander duties; whatever they ended up being, they varied from larger decisions to smaller ones.

Some days she just spent her hours in the armory, polishing and sharpening every sword; and some she spent in the White Sword Tower, either re-reading previous entries in the Book of Brothers or residing in her quarters.

She was so busy with her new duties that she did not have the time to respond to your ravens, even if she could gather the emotional strength to do so.

Five months after your separation, Bran had requested her attention, sending Tyrion to collect her.

He had found her in the armory taking inventory of the same gear she had checked the day before. When asked, she told everyone it was to ‘make sure no one stole anything’ but it was really to keep her mind occupied with something other than you who plagued her mind day in and day out, even in her slumber.

“The King wishes to speak with you, Lord Brienne.” Tyrion interrupted her almost obsessive counting, arriving when she had finished sharpening the last sword. He stood in the doorway as he watched her get up from the stool she was sitting on, put away the sword she was holding, and walk towards him.

“Of course, Lord Hand. Lead the way.”

The walk was quiet, for the most part. Brienne was content with the silence, Tyrion; not so much.

“Forgive me for being informal, Lord Commander, but; what is the matter with you?” The question staggered Brienne, her entire being stalling for one second, too stunned to move, before she continued her prior movements, resuming her stroll by the shorter man's side.

“Pardon?” She knew exactly what he was referring to. Her behavior had been strange, to say the least. Erratically counting and whetting, staring off into space, and getting lost in her own thoughts. Brienne had always been a bit unusual and turned in towards herself, but it had been even more so these last couple of months.

“Brienne. I can promise you that no one is stealing weapons from the armory during the night in peacetime. The armory which, need I remind you, is locked up with you as the key holder. So, what the hell is your issue?” Tyrion had stopped right outside the building Bran was currently in, glaring up at Brienne with furrowed brows and caring eyes.

“I-” she released an elongated sigh, “I do not wish to talk about it. What does the King need to speak to me about?” Switching the subject to the reason she was standing there with him in the first place, hoping to remove herself from the theme she wasn’t entirely comfortable conversing with Tyrion about.

The shorter man let out a sigh, admitting defeat, knowing he wasn’t getting anything out of her. “I do not know. He did not tell me.”

“Very well.” With this, Brienne pushed past the shorter man who was left standing in place, annoyed at the taller woman’s stubbornness, which seemed to be an ongoing theme nowadays.

Her white cloak flowed behind her as she navigated her way through the corridors, her steps echoing in the empty hallways.

“Lord Brienne!” Bran called her name as she entered the room he was residing in, stopping what he had been doing before she arrived, “I’m glad you’re here. I have something to ask of you.”

The blonde knight quickly kneeled before him and he just as quickly ushered her up to her feet, claiming there was no need for such formalities. Brienne didn’t quite understand why but complied either way. “Sire, what can I do for you?”

“I need you and Ser Podrick to escort a shipment from Planky Town. You will travel there by ship, collect the shipment, and bring it back. I’ve already spoken to Davos, and he has given you temporary command of one of his ships. It’s an incredibly rare material and I need my best men on it. I know it’s different from your usual duties but treat this mission the way you would any other.”

The thought process that went through Brienne's head after Bran had started speaking was: Planky Town – Dorne – you. There was a hurricane of emotions whirling around inside of her that destroyed anything in its path, and as in every hurricane, the eye was quiet, which allowed her to process the whirlwind.

She was ecstatic at the opportunity to finally visit Dorne, and maybe, if the Gods were good, cross paths with you. She was also guilty and terrified at the thought of meeting you again. Running into you after ignoring your messages for months would surely prove to be an unpleasant experience. You’d surely be angry, disappointed, and upset; all at her. But at least she would get to see you, even if it was with you staring daggers her way.

Her mind was racing, running faster than it ever had and Brienne couldn’t keep up. Until a noise ripped her out of her thoughts, permitting her to catch up to her sprinting brain. The door behind her opened and closed, signaling that someone else had entered the room. This was when she realized she had been standing still and in silence for far too long, Bran looking at her with an unreadable expression as he waited for her response.

“Yes. Of course, Your Grace. When do we depart?” Brienne remained as professional and stoic as usual, even when her mind was anything but. She had zoned out again, become lost in her own thoughts like a scared little girl getting lost in the woods with no way out.

“Tomorrow at sunrise. Be at the docks by then.”

“Yes. Anything else?”

“No. You are dismissed, Lord Brienne.” After vocalizing the command, Bran looked away from the Lord Commander and went back to his previous activity. Whatever that was hadn’t been observed by the blue-eyed knight, and she simply couldn’t be bothered to find out.

She bowed before taking her exit, passing Tyrion as she left the room. He looked at her warm-heartedly, giving her the smallest of smiles and a small nod which she didn’t reciprocate, a scowl painted on her lips.

If she wasn’t so focused on keeping the hurricane inside of her in check, and on preventing any tells to leak out of her hardened exterior onto her face, she would have given him the same back. Instead, she just kept her mind set on maintaining a straight face.

The second the heavy door closed behind her, she let the stone face fall, and an intrigued smile replaced her former frown. Her booted footsteps echoed in the barren hallways as she went back the way she came, her long white cloak floating behind her.

“Dorne, huh?”

———

You rolled up what must have been the twentieth message for Brienne, before strapping the scroll to your raven. It was a warm day in Lemonwood, as it was every day in Dorne, the Summer Sea waves hitting against the cliff side breaking the pleasant silence of the early Sunday morning.

Your raven, Bartholomew (actually named Branoc by your parents, but you thought that was a little bit boring), was sent on its way and you sat at your desk, watching the bird as it flapped its coal-black wings, carrying yet another message for your love.

The usual distant bustling noise of Planky Town had yet to begin, it was still too early but you and your mother had a shipment to meet. No rest for the traders.

Your family had since your great-great-great grandfather been a part of a large trading company, landing you as one of the wealthier families in Westeros.

The business had been passed through generations and now it had landed on your mother's lap. You were delighted to assist her for however long she needed you but the longing and yearning for Brienne’s touch was getting to be too much. You needed to get back to her.

Sighing, you put your stationary, ink, and quill away, before rising from your seated position at your desk. The armor you had worn in Winterfell had been swapped out for a more heat friendly one. Specially crafted to allow breathing and protection, the Dornish colors decorate the leather gear.

It rested on the stand in your room, the fur coat and cold-resistant steel armor gathering dust in one of your closets. You hadn’t laid eyes on either of the items since you disregarded them five months ago.

The trip here had been a long one, riding along Kings Road before turning onto Rivers Road; before finally arriving in Lannisport just west of Riverrun. Once there, you were able to hop on one of your family’s trading ships, taking you back to Planky Town.

The only comfortable way to Dorne when traveling from another kingdom, was by ship. The terrain and road through the Red Mountains were unforgiving and extremely hard to traverse and there was no way you were putting yourself through that. The ride through the barren desert after the mountains wasn’t all that inviting either.

The difference in climate had hit you right away, the searing sun of Dorne not quite the same as the biting chill of The North. Your fur coat had been discarded soon after passing The Trident and turning onto the road that led you to your destination. It rained moderately in the Riverlands, therefore, you had to take it off to insure its dryness.

When it started raining, like you had expected it to do, you had to take a break, seeking shelter under the protecting crowns of the trees. The fur coat proved quite useful as an extra blanket during the cool nights, and you pretended that it was the warm embrace of Brienne enveloping you instead of the cloak.

After you had boarded the ship in Lannisport, you were able to take off your armor for the first time in days, letting the cool breeze of the sea wash over you. The familiar salty smell of the ocean reminding you of your childhood.

The sound of knocking on your door pulled you out of your reminiscent state. Quickly pulling yourself to the present, you took large strides toward your door and opened it in a swift and controlled motion.

You were met with the weary and tired eyes of your mother, she hadn’t slept well since the passing of your father, and you couldn’t blame her, neither had you.

The sleeplessness was a combination of the grief from losing your father and the loss of Brienne's warmth. You had slept in her arms only once, but that singular time was enough to have your body aching for more affection from the tall blonde woman.

Most of this you wrote about in your messages. The messages she couldn’t even be bothered to open because if she did, she would realize you missed her so. That you would leave as soon as you weren’t needed, and that you would return to her arms as fast as humanly possible.

“Good morning, Mother.” Your voice was softer than usual, it always was around your mother nowadays, scared that any other tone would disrupt the mourning process she had begun.

Her voice was weak, frail. Throat hoarse from crying, “Good morning. Just wanted to see if you were awake.” She did this every morning. Checking up on you. She did it when you were growing up and continued doing so when you returned. It was an even more comforting action this time around, serving as a reminder that you had each other to lean on.

“I am, have you eaten?” Your mother's eating habits had been on the rocks lately, too busy with the business that she simply forgot to eat, sometimes she didn’t want to, her appetite gone. So, you asked her, every day, if she had eaten. Sometimes she said yes, sometimes she said no.

“Yes. Have you?”

You hummed in response to her question, “I ate when I woke up, I’m ready to go when you are. I’ll just need to gear up.”

Your mother nodded, “I will wait for you in the carriage.” With this, she turned around and left. Making her descent down the carpet-clad stone stairs.

After closing the door, you walked to your armor stand by your window that overlooked the Summer Sea and began removing each piece, attaching them to your form.

As you put on your leather armor, you watched as ships of many different sizes sailed past your window, floating on the sea in the searing hot Dorne sun. The sun's rays invaded your room, casting it a beautiful golden glow, and warming your skin; the pleasant smell of the sea like a comforting blanket over you.

Some of the sailing ships came from the west and some from the east. Some were sailing for trading companies, and some were sailing for travel. Their flags and sails fluttered in the warm air, hulls breaking through the water.

Eventually, all the leather gear had been secured to your form, the last part had been your sword, and with everything in place, you abandoned your room; briskly walked down the same stairs your mother had, and stepped out into the warmth of the morning.

Your mother stood by the carriage, conversing with the coachman. The sight of you approaching interrupted their conversation, the coachman opening the door to the roofed wheelhouse. Allowing your mother to enter and closing it once she had sat down inside.

The carriage did not have any windows except for some small springs, meaning you didn’t have a good view of the scenery and environment around you. So, to make sure you were able to keep a look out for potential dangers, you sat up front with the coachman.

You did not mind doing so however, he was a very interesting man with many stories to tell and you often enjoyed the chats you had with him.

The ride to Planky Town wasn’t long, your ancestors chose to settle in Lemonwood for the short travel distance, taking into account that the port was a regular visit.

On the way there you passed several travelers, and you recognized most of them as inhibitors of the other nearby settlements. You didn’t know any of them particularly well, only having met them a few times during formal events. Still being familiar with them and wanting to show civility; short pleasantries were exchanged before continuing your journey.

It didn’t take long for the lively sound of the now awake port town to reach you, the familiar sight of the Greenblood river opening its mouth in front of you, running out into the vast sea.

As every Sunday, it was reserved for shipment collection, meaning it wouldn’t be as busy as it usually was the rest of the weekdays. Despite this, there was still a large number of people going about their business of resupplying or trading.

The coachman stopped your carriage a distance away from the docks as he usually did to prevent blocking the road. He stepped off to open the door for your mother, who had stayed silent during the ride as she usually did.

You stepped off after him, watching your mother exit the wheelhouse, and walked up to her side, hand on the hilt of your sword and back straight. You were here as a traders’ child, yes, but you were also a knight.

It wasn’t often that you were asked to make your rounds down here, yet on rare occasions you were. Even when you weren’t here on such business you still wanted to keep up appearances, you knew Brienne would.

Shooting your coachman a nod and a smile, you linked your mothers' arm with your own and started trekking toward the docked ships. “Is it the usual today?” Wanting to make conversation, you asked your mother something that would pull her out of the damaging mindset she had surely found herself in.

“Yes. Meet the shipment, and see that everything is as it should, some is unloaded here to be sold, rest is shipped to other port towns to be distributed by our partners.” It was like clockwork by now, and you knew it by heart, your mother knew that you did and found it kind of you to ask. She knew why you did and appreciated the distraction from her thoughts.

A quick hum was all you gave in response, your steps taking you closer to the harbor until you reached the docked trader ship. Letting go of your mother's arm you turned to look at her, “I will stay on land and take a look around. Wait here until I come back.”

She gave a quick nod before she stepped onto the wooden vessel, you saw your mother meet the captain and he in turn gave her the inventory list for her to check off. You began turning on your heel to walk away but before you could, something caught your eye. A ship from the royal fleet.

It hadn’t been the ship in itself that stopped you, it had been the person you saw on board it. You had seen her faster than you cared to admit, almost like your eyes had been searching for her.

She was standing as robust as she had done the first time you saw her when you first arrived in Winterfell. Her hands behind her back, the wind blowing through her short blonde curls; the white fabric that draped down her figure danced in the Summer Sea wind.

She stood on the quarter deck, donned in her gold-white armor that reflected the sunlight, she looked so handsome in it, so at home. She was a White Sword, this you were aware of, but you were still nonplussed to see it, to have it verified.

You were so used to seeing her in her dark armor. The dark armor that she had worn during the duration of your stay, the armor that you had begun to associate with her. Seeing her in anything else but, was an abnormal sight.

As the ship inched closer and closer to the docks, you saw that there was detailing on her chest piece, a raven. Fitting for the three-eyed ravens' Kings Guard.

From what you could percept, Oathkeeper still sat loyally at her side, and you wondered how she had taken the news of Ser Jaime's death. You knew that they had been... relatively close, she had described their relationship as ‘an unexpected companionship,’ which was really her fancy (and courteous) way of saying ‘it was a war, he was an extra sword, we spent time together because we had to.’

Truth was, Brienne didn’t take the announcement of his passing that hard. Still too focused on the loss of you. In her mind, she had tolerated Jaime, not seeing him as a close friend, and therefore did not feel the need to mourn him.

The grief from your departure was still a fresh wound in her heart and even if she did feel the need to shed tears for him, it would be too overwhelming to do so for two people at the same time, and she refused to put you aside to lament Jaime Lannister who meant so little to her. So, it was an easy choice for her. You took precedence over everything else.

You were frozen in place, watching her as she stood tall and proud. Anger bubbled up inside of your chest, along with sadness and betrayal. Yet at the same time, you were so gleeful to see her again after such a long time, and even though you wanted nothing more than to run into her embrace; the fact that she hadn’t responded to your ravens in months stood true.

You didn’t want to see her, and you did not want to speak with her. With the feelings running amuck inside of you, you feared that if put face to face with her you’d say some things that you couldn’t take back. Hurting her even more than you had already done; ruining any chances of ever reconciliating and returning to each other's arms. For now, the best choice was to leave and blend in with the crowd before she could spot you, but it was too late.

The second her ship had docked, and she had stepped onto land, she had seen you. Her intense blue eyes locked on to yours and the moment they did, they flashed with what looked like regret and guilt.

It was too much to handle, the same blue irises that kept you up at night, that haunted your dreams, were now staring at you in such a way that made your heart twist inside of your chest.

Her mouth was hanging open the tiniest bit, eyebrows furrowed. She was surprised to see you. If there weren’t so many thoughts swirling around in your head, you were sure that you would match her expression, shocked to see her down here. Shocked to see her at all.

Your head was a battle arena, your thoughts fighting, trying to bring you back to your senses, to help you make a decision, and fast. The one who ended up coming on top was the one for before, the one telling you to leave; the one telling you to run to her getting left in the mud.

You started to walk towards the crowd, planning to disappear in the swirl of people but Brienne was taller than most people there and was able to periscope over everyone, meaning you and your Dornish leather armor stood out like a beacon on a dark night.

She started to follow you, Podrick trailing behind her trying to keep up with her broad strides. The continuous stream of people helped with keeping a distance between the three of you, but there were only so many traders and merchants, and you eventually reached a clearing, close to where your carriage was parked.

There was no hiding from her now.

The familiar voice of Brienne called your name, shivers running down your spine at hearing it for the first time in five months. You had forgotten what she sounded like, just how beautiful and deep her voice was, how the accent compliments it in the most fantastic way, working in harmony to make everything she said sound like poetry.

“Stop!” you didn’t obey her command, instead, you kept moving forward. Her steps picked up, her long legs faster than yours, and before you could process her closing in on you, her hand grabbed your wrist, pulling at it slightly causing you to abruptly stop, and turn around.

Suddenly, the only thing in your vision was her piercing eyes as they searched your face for any sign of forgiveness, love, or adoration; only finding the same stone-cold expression you had worn when your eyes met minutes ago.

She had hoped that her proximity and touch would bring back the soft expression you used to have for her. It did not. Instead, you rejected her touch. Ripping your wrist away from her grasp, almost aggressively so, almost like her touch was hot coal burning you through your protective leather gear.

She gazed down at you, a silent plea behind them for you to speak to her, to say anything. Just wanting to hear your voice. You in return stared up defiantly at her, displaying your anger by taking a step back, distancing yourself from her. She took this as a confirmation that you had become repulsed by her, just like everyone else; her weakness and pure selfishness had caused you to despise her.

In truth, the moment she had gotten close, the all too addicting scent of her had invaded your senses, making it so much harder to stay focused. The step back was to display anger, yes, but also to step away from the inebriation that was the smell of Brienne.

“Ser Brienne.” You spoke stiffly, your face full of indifference. She remained neutral, but to you, she was an open book. The way you said her name hadn’t gone unnoticed by the blonde, and you saw the flash of hurt in her eyes when you said her name. The usual affection you held for her wasn’t there anymore, and she completely understood why.

She opened her mouth to say something, getting interrupted by Podrick before she could, “It’s actually Lord Commander-” Brienne held up a hand, successfully interrupting him back, but not before you heard her new title. Lord Commander, huh?

“Ser Podrick! Do you not recognize them?” So, this was the Podrick you had heard so much about. He was shorter than you expected him to be, but maybe that was because he stood next to one of the tallest people in Westeros; she made anyone look short.

She had broken your eye contact to stare at the younger knight with her usual glare. He looked at you once again, observing you. The second it clicked; his mouth fell open in a silent ‘oh.’ He cleared his throat before mumbling a silent apology to both you and Brienne.

“Go and wait for the shipment. Leave us.” The Lord Commanders' voice was harsh, leaving no room for objections.

“Yes, My Lord.” He rushed off, leaving you and Brienne alone. She turned her head back to yours the instant Podrick disappeared out of sight into the flow of people.

“Lord Commander?” The voice that exited your mouth was incredulous. You couldn’t believe your ears. She had been appointed the highest position in the King's Guard and secured a spot on the King's Council, and you hadn’t been informed. The love of your life hadn’t told you of a major update in her life.

“Yes.”

“You were appointed Lord Commander of the King's Guard and I find out today. How long?” You almost did not want to ask. Not wanting to know how long she had been keeping this from you.

You hoped she would say 'a couple of weeks’ or ‘about a month’ because then you would understand the lack of communication. You were understanding of the task of taking on a new title and the job that came with it. If she was in the beginning phases, you would have understood. Instead, you were greeted with the opposite.

“About four months...”

“Four months-! You are unbelievable, Lord Commander.” You spat her title back at her, there was such wretchedness in your voice, such wrath. What you had feared was just a couple words ahead, the fear that you would say something that would be irreversible. There was no closing the gates of Hell now.

“Please just call me Brienne, like you used to.” Her voice had shifted into a gentler one, attempting to diffuse the situation. You scoffed at her. Was she really trying to ‘go back to the way it used to be’ after making no effort in communicating with you at all?

“I don’t know if I want to refer to you as anything anymore.” There it was. The gates had been opened, and anything coming out after this was meant to hurt. Meant to drive a knife into her stomach and twist it. Disbelief spread through your being, so irritated at her for just assuming you’d forget everything that had happened. Both of which were perceivable in your tone.

“Please, if you would just let me explain-” Desperation was evident in her voice, her entire face softening, her eyes imploring for you to please listen, to please forgive her. But you didn’t want to hear it. You didn’t want to hear her excuses; not before you had said your piece.

“Explain what, huh? Explain how you couldn’t let go of your pride to send me something back? A simple ‘hello, it is I, Brienne of Tarth,’” you tried your best to copy her speaking voice, it falling short, “once a month would have sufficed because then I would have known that you were alive!”

You took a breath before continuing, keeping your voice steady, tears threatening to well up.

“Instead, I had to get that sign of life from Sansa! Do you understand how much that pained me? That you could not let go of your stubbornness for two seconds to let me know of your damn relocation to Kings Landing by yourself! Why?” Glaring up at her, you panted, eyebrows furrowed in frustration.

“I couldn’t bring myself to read about your life without me…” Her voice was quiet, almost like she was ashamed to admit her reasons for not responding. At her admission, your wrath eased up. You weren’t furious at her anymore, but there was still the agonizing pain of being ignored by someone who you love so much, and whom you care for so. “I know, it was unreasonable, irrational, intolerant of me. I am aware.”

She continued her explanation, “I really wanted to, read your messages, that is. Because I missed you terribly, and love you so, but it would have hurt too much. Then after I was appointed my new position and title I had so much to do, and I was so stressed, and I didn’t have the time to reply.” She was trying her best to stay strong, or at least for it to look like she was but she was moments away from a breakdown.

You kept eye contact the entire time, seeing when tears were starting to form in her eyes, and you were suddenly extremely aware of how exposed you two were. “I’m sorry.” Her last words were a whisper, barely audible, voice breaking.

She then broke eye contact, tilting her head down, fixing her gaze on the sandy ground. You glanced around you, seeing that your carriage was only a couple of feet away. It gave you the perfect escape plan.

You took her by the hand, dragging her towards your carriage with a quick ‘come with me.’ The sudden, unexpected contact made Brienne’s head snap up, meeting the back of your head with her blurry vision. She needed privacy, you couldn’t let everyone see the Lord Commander break down in public, so you had to shelter her. It also provided you with a quieter place to speak.

You asked the coachman to go make himself busy before ushering Brienne into the wheelhouse, you following suit, closing and locking the door behind you. Quickly covering all the springs in your immediate vision with its individual curtain.

The second you sat down across from her, the dam broke. She buried her face in her hands as loud sobs wrecked through her, much like the ones you had heard by the stables as you rode away.

Your anger and pain had quickly subsided when you had heard her entire reasoning, and when you saw how guilty she felt. There was no need to be mad at her, you didn’t think you could be anymore.

Relieving yourself from your sword sheathe, you pondered, unsure if you should remain seated across from her, or if you should move to sit by her side. You couldn’t comfort her all those months ago, but you’d be damned if you didn’t do it now.

Quickly maneuvering across the carriage, you took a seat next to Brienne, taking off her scabbard before throwing an arm around her shoulder and pulling her close to you, her becoming flush against your side. She hadn’t expected the abrupt intimacy, it was a welcome one, especially after feeling nothing for so many days.

Her arms flew around your waist, her face burying itself into your leather-covered chest. Your free hand came up to Brienne’s head, softly stroking her hair as the other gently caressed her upper arm. Her armor made it a little lumpy, but you did not care. Having her back in your arms after so long was an incredible feeling, and you couldn’t believe how you had made it this long without her warmth.

Her sobbing was relentless, tears flowing down her face and dropping onto your legs. Your leather tasset had gradually shifted down the side of your upper thighs in your seated position, revealing your tunic trousers underneath.

Brienne repeated the same phrase, over and over again through wails. Saying how sorry she was, how she hoped you could forgive her. You in turn answered with reassurance. Telling her that you accepted her apology, that she was forgiven.

You didn’t know how much time had passed when Brienne’s cries eventually died down, rendering the small space silent except for the occasional sniffles coming from the blonde beside you. Her head had been removed from your chest and she now sat upright. You still had your arm around her, hand resting on her armored bicep.

The hand that had been stroking her hair was now holding hers, entwined hands resting in between yours and Brienne’s thighs. Your thumb lazily drawing lines on the scarred skin.

“Are you alright?” The softness had returned to your voice, the love and tenderness had as well, and the Commander noticed. She was soothed by your question because it meant you still cared enough to check in on her. That lit a light in Brienne’s tunnel of misery; there was still something left to save, to rebuild.

“Yes. Especially now that I’m back in your arms.” She turned her head to look at you, you doing the same and offering her a soft smile which she returned. As you took in her tear-stained face and red puffy eyes, you were smacked with the remembrance of your earlier words, words that shouldn’t have been uttered.

“I’m really sorry for what I said back there. I was filled with fury, and I didn’t mean it. I always want to refer to you, dear Brienne.” Voice low to avoid disrupting the peace, your voice was gentler. A strong contrast to the cutting tone you had used outside. You brought her held hand up to your face to place a peck on the back of it, relishing in the feeling of her skin against your lips once again.

“It’s okay, I know you didn’t mean it. I forgive you either way.” You dropped yours and Brienne’s hands into your lap and released a sigh of relief hearing her words. Silence settled in again as you gazed into each other's eyes. The blonde's sapphire blues darted down to your lips and back up to your eyes, just like they had that night in the courtyard almost one year ago. She wanted to kiss you, and you needed her to. “You know, I really did miss you. A lot.” It was nothing more than a whisper, a breath of desire.

“Yeah, yeah. I missed you, too. Now shut up and kiss me, please.” Brienne giggled at your eagerness and avidity and was quick to oblige to your wish. She turned her body towards you, legs shifting to be able to face you as comfortably as possible, hand coming up to cup your cheek, head diving in fast to capture your lips, eyes falling shut before colliding.

The second her lips connected with yours, a contented and allayed moan escaped Brienne’s throat. She had longed for, craved, and missed you for so many months, all the tension and sorrow built up inside of her melting away the moment your lips touched. It was even more heavenly than she had recalled. One of your hands flew up to the side of her neck, your body shifting to copy the way she sat.

It was like you never left, lips moving together in familiarity. Brienne’s tongue swiped over your bottom lip, begging for entrance, and you granted it. Her wet, strong muscle started exploring your mouth the second you parted your lips. The feeling of her tongue wrestling with yours along with the familiar taste of her, made you release a low moan; she tasted even better than you had remembered.

The taste of you, the feeling of your tongue sliding against hers, your soft whimpers as she expertly moved her lips with yours like a dance, elegant and controlled like a waltz, but passionate and heated like a tango. A dance of the love and yearning you contained for the other. All of it took over her senses, her brain going into overdrive, her mewling against your lips.

The hand that was holding on to Brienne’s broke away from the grasp, moving to find purchase in the blonde's hair. It was already disheveled from the salty ocean wind, hair slightly curled from the humidity in the air; your hand running through it wouldn’t make it worse. It wouldn’t be odd for her hair to be out of place considering the strong coast gust.

Your fingers started at the nape of her neck, slowly moving upwards until they stopped at the back, curling them in her tresses, gathering a fistful of her hair in your hand. Brienne hummed against your mouth at the feeling of your digits in her hair once again, and the hand that had been abandoned by yours grabbed onto your waist, palm gently resting on your side.

Your lips pulled apart, but you still kept the contact, foreheads leaning against the others, eyes shut as you regained your breath. “I really did miss you. I was hoping to show you just how much...” Brienne spoke between heavy breaths.

You did not miss the glint of seduction in her voice or the innuendo. During the make-out session the all too familiar heat grew between your legs and your body craved her touch, as it had for months. But right here, in a carriage in a port town when you both had responsibilities?

“Brienne...” Breathing out her name and meaning to remind her of your current area; you weren’t able to complete the rest of your sentence before she interrupted you.

“Look at me,” you removed your head from hers and opened your eyes, meeting Brienne’s that were already staring back at you, her blue irises as deep and breathtaking as the galaxy, filled with stars and planets of her own. They were truly remarkable and gorgeous; fitting for someone like her. “I have craved you for so long. I don’t know how long it will be until we meet again. Let me make it up to you. Let me erase the past five months of misery. Let me do this so we can have something to last us until we can guarantee proximity to each other. Please.”

The hand in her blonde curls transferred to her cheek, gently holding and stroking her flushed skin with your thumb. Her eyes were pleading as was her voice, wanting to remove the memories of pain and replace them with ones of pleasure; and you wanted that too.

You placed a soft kiss on her lips before nodding, “that sounds perfect. I’d love nothing more.” At your confirmation, Brienne’s lips turned up into the biggest grin much like the one she wore after your first kiss, and she was on her knees on the wooden floor shortly after; her hands resting on your legs.

“I’ve never done this before. All I know is that I want to make you feel good.” She gazed up at you as she spoke. She was insecure, as was obvious in her voice and her eyes, but also determined, not letting uncertainty scare her away. “Tell me if it feels good and what I can do to bring you maximum pleasure.”

“I will.”

The woman on her knees before you started undressing you. Starting with your boots, before wedging her hands under your leather chest cover to unstrap your tasset that was hindering access to the buckle of your trousers.

Throwing a look at the door to the carriage to make sure it was locked, you noticed that one of the springs hadn’t been covered by the sheer curtain. As you stood up to close it, Brienne’s fingers undid the metal of your pants, pulling them down at the same time as you pulled the curtain down.

You were now completely out of sight; the problem was, so was the outside world, and if your mother decided to forego your escort to make the trek back herself; she’d find you in one hell of a position.

You prayed to the old Gods and the new that your mother would stay put, or that inventory would take longer than usual so that she didn’t hear you reconnecting with your love. Sure, she knew about Brienne and the relationship you had, it was one of the first things you had talked about when you got home, but you didn’t want your mothers' first impression of the much taller knight to be her in between your legs.

Brienne’s hands grabbed onto your hips and pulled down, causing you to meet the seat with an unexpected speed, she was impatient, and you understood why. She had already spent too much time away from her mission and Podrick, and sooner or later, he would come looking for her, and would no doubt find her considering her last known position and your family’s carriage being mere feet away. Time was of the essence, and you couldn’t afford to waste any of it.

Heavy breathing came from the woman in front of you as she placed her hands back onto your knees and gently spread them, being faced with your soaked underwear. She had never seen your sex before, felt it, sure, but never seen. She hadn’t tasted you either and she was practically drooling at the thought of finally doing so.

Tentative and curious hands slowly traveled up your legs, stopping at the hem of your undergarments. Hooking her fingers inside and motions for you to elevate your hips slightly. Lifting your hips for easy discarding, she pulled them down in one motion, revealing your needy cunt to her hungry, dilated eyes.

She was if in a trance, watching with such intensity you feared her eyes would pop out of her skull. You nudged her shoulder with your knee, causing her to snap her gaze to yours. Her pupils were blown-out, darkened from lust and desire. The air was thick inside of the small space and you could practically sense her ferocity as it emanated from her person.

She looked so pretty like this on her knees for you, looking up at you with virtuous eyes. So ready and willing to serve; to satisfy your needs. Reaching out a hand, you took hold of her chin, guiding her face closer to your core, she needed a little helping hand. “You look so good right now, pretty girl. On your knees for me. So ready to do whatever I wish, hmm.”

Brienne could only offer a nod in response, your words and low, vibrating voice combined with your dominating tone. If she were standing, she was sure her knees would give out and she’d fall to the floor. But since she already was kneeling on the wooden boards, she gave out a tiny whine instead, forgetting just how much power your words had over her.

The scent of your arousal was overwhelming, your pussy radiating such heat, Brienne being able to sense it all when you had brought her face close enough to the apex of your inner thighs, and she wanted nothing more than to taste you, something she had wanted for such a long time; completely missing out on her chance before you left. She thought she had all the time in the world with you, how was she supposed to know you were leaving the same night she had intended to feast on you.

So, the fact remained: you had tasted her; she hadn’t tasted you and she was so desperate to finally know how your wet flesh would feel against her tongue. Desperate to gain familiarity with the sensation she thought she would have experienced months ago when she had planned it.

After you had eaten her out and gotten into bed together, her mind had started wondering what you’d taste like and that she’d propose to perform oral on you the next day during your midnight meeting, but then you left, and she never did find out what you tasted like.

Finally, five months later. She would finally know just how wonderful you’d taste.

“Use your tongue, my sweet girl. Don’t be afraid to use your instincts.” You stroked Brienne’s skin softly before sliding your hand to the back of her head, leg coming up to lay on her shoulder, foot resting on her back. Your other hand was placed beside you, using the seat as support.

She licked her lips, mumbling ‘what a pretty little pussy’ before finally diving in, shutting her eyes, and allowing her intuition to take over. She licked a careful stripe up from your entrance to your clit, circling it slowly before closing her mouth around it, lightly sucking. Her tongue was a godsend, so strong and oh was she good at using it.

You released a soft whimper, mindful to keep quiet considering your whereabouts but still wanting to let her know just how good she was making you feel. Your head leaned against the wall behind you, but your eyes were locked on Brienne’s between your legs, moving slightly as she used her skillful mouth on you.

Your fingers grabbed at her hair, wanting to hold her in place as her tongue flicked over your clit and you refrained from pushing her closer; wanting her to do it on her own terms. You were sure that if she made you come with minimal help from you, her confidence would boost and that would exponentially heighten the chances of her giving head more often in the future, maybe even initiate it.

Even though you wanted her to learn by doing, she had requested you to tell her how to make you feel good, and that was what you intended to do.

Her arms were snaked around your thighs, hands resting where hip and leg met. She switched between sucking and licking, sometimes doing both, drawing out all kinds of noises from you. “Yeah. Just like that, baby. Just like that. You’re doing so good.” Even when she was pleasuring you, she was still submissive and in need of praise and assurance, and you were more than happy to provide all of those things for her. “Try- Try adding more pressure with your tongue.”

A vibrating sensation exited Brienne’s mouth as she moaned against your clit at hearing your praise, causing your body to jerk and you to hold back a loud groan. She wanted to be validated, to be told she was doing a good job. This only applied to the sex part of her life, however, as she couldn’t care less about what other people thought of her, well, not anymore at least; her childhood self would disagree.

The only person’s opinion she cared about besides maybe the professional opinions of her King, were yours. She wanted you to think highly and goodly of her, in all aspects of her life, be it professional, personal, or intimate, and you did. This she knew, it still felt good to hear you say it though.

Brienne’s eyes which had been screwed shut the entire time suddenly opened, looking up at you with curious eyes. She wanted to see how you’d react to all of her following ministrations, fascination, and wonder glinting in her beautiful eyes.

She took your advice and adjusted accordingly, placing her tongue flat on your clit with the pressure to go with and dragged her tongue up, making you drawl out a throaty moan. “Oh, Gods! Feels so fucking good, so fucking good.” Your words were slurred, your voice low to avoid it being heard by anyone else than Brienne, your heavy breaths and hums only growing more and more ragged as the woman betwixt your legs worked her wet muscle against you.

You’d had your share of love affairs before but that was nothing compared to this. The feeling of getting eaten out by the love of your life was like nothing you’d ever experienced before. Not even the meetings you used to have as a young adult in the local bathhouses felt as good as this did.

Brienne was a beginner but a very quick learner, and she knew exactly how to pleasure you because she knew you and your body, playing it masterfully, playing it like an instrument; like she hadn’t done anything else.

She was devoted to your pleasure, devoted to worshipping you and your pussy with her tongue. Nothing else mattered in this specific moment, only the feeling of your legs shuttering, your moany whimpers, and your fingers twisting in her hair did.

The sounds inside the wheelhouse were right out of a brothel, moans mixed with the wet noises coming from Brienne as she used her mouth on you. She murmured against your clit, a whisper mostly to herself, but you had heard it too, “You taste so fucking good...” Her words combined with the intense eye contact made your head spin, your insides turning in the most pleasant way.

Every stroke, lick, kiss, and suck from the blonde brought you closer to the edge of climax, the familiar warmth pooling in your stomach, legs twitching and hips bucking with every ripple of pure bliss that went through your body. The release was barreling towards you like a wild buck and you were so ready for the collision, ready to get sent into an endless vortex of pleasure.

During the five months that you and Brienne had been apart, more and more tension began to build up inside of you, a knot forming in your stomach. You often found yourself thinking of that morning in the baths or the night before, and it never failed to make you a throbbing mess. You never found the time to rid yourself of it, so it just continued to grow, the knot only getting tighter.

Months' worth of pent-up tension releasing would equal in an orgasm the size of a tsunami washing over you and you were made aware of this fact as the band inside of you tightened, and tightened, until it eventually snapped, untying the knot at the same time.

Waves upon waves of ecstasy poured over you as your body convulsed with pleasure. Your back was arching, hips thrashing as you rode Brienne’s face to drag out your orgasm. Her hands that had been resting in the space between thigh and hip pushed down to keep you steadier, but still allowing you to grind against her mouth.

The hand in the blonde hair loosened as you came down from your peak, stroking her messy curls instead, hoping to smooth down the mess you had surely made of her locks. Brienne had removed her head from your sex, drawing languid circles with her fingers on your skin. Gorgeous blue eyes gazing up at you with awe as they watched your breathing grow steady.

The Lord Commander leaned back on her heels, your hand sliding off her head as she moved out of your reach, removing herself from your legs, sloping to grab your clothes. Her chin was covered in your juices, and you made a mental note to get that cleaned up before you left the carriage.

She grabbed your ruined undergarments and reached out a hand to give them to you where you sat, the hand that had been placed flat on the wood beside you the entire session was brought up to push her hand away, “they’re already soaked, you might as well use them to wipe your chin.” A breathless chuckle passed your lips as you spoke, Brienne looking at you comically.

She muttered a quick ‘sorry’ before using a dry part of the cloth to dry her chin, removing any trace of your activities. She reached out a hand with them again and this time you accepted them, putting them on and wincing at the uncomfortable feeling of your wet and cold underwear, luckily you were heading home as soon as your mother was finished, and you could change.

Your trousers were handed to you shortly after to be put on and buckled, as well as your tasset, and finally your boots.

“Come here.” Brienne did as she was told and shuffled close to you, kneeling down at your side so you were at eye level. “My beautiful girl,” bringing a hand up to her cheek, you traced her skin with your fingers, inching closer to her face to give her a kiss.

It was a gentle one, soft and tender, and you could sense the taste of you on her lips. “I love you.” It was a whisper against her lips, a promise for now and the future until you could tell her every day.

“I love you, too. I do not like the idea that we must leave each other once again,” Brienne let out a sad sigh and turned her head away from you to stare at the carriage door. You were not entirely happy with the situation either but there was nothing to be done until you were no longer needed. “Come with me.”

Your eyes widened at her words. Had you heard her correctly? “W- What?” Shock was painted across your features, your voice trying to remain steady, but you were too taken aback to bother with that, slightly shaking with perplexity seeping through.

She turned her head to look at you once again, her expression deadly serious. She wasn’t jesting or posing any what-ifs. “Come with me to Kings Landing. I will ask for King Bran’s attention and request for him to recruit you into the King's Guard. We need more knights, and I know you would be the perfect fit.” This was wishful thinking. The Kings Guard?

Quickly exhaling and inhaling, your face furrowed together in empathy, you too shared her want to travel to Kings Landing and spend all eternity by her side until death released you from your vows, but your mother needed you. “Brienne, I-”

“Yes. I know. Your mother. But, please, just. Just consider it.” Her eyes and words were begging, her eyebrows raised in hope, wishing that you’d say yes; that you’d consider it.

“I will consider it.” The smile that spread on your Commander's lips was infectious, causing you to do the same. Her eyes lit up like stars in the night sky, twinkling just the same. They really were as deep and vast as the galaxy, holding just as many uncharted and unexplored areas.

A knocking on the door caused you and Brienne to snap out of your staring competition, instinctively putting distance between each other, you shooting over to the other side and retrieving your scabbard, the woman across from you doing the same with hers.

The muffled voice of the coachman came from the outside, signaling that you had been in there for far too long, “Ser! I think your mother is all finished and ready to leave. Is everything alright in there?” You took a quick look at Brienne, her curls strewn across her forehead, and you motioned for her to comb her fingers through her locks to tidy it up a little.

“Yes, everything is quite alright. We are finished and are coming out. Thank you!” You and Brienne snorted at you using ‘finished’ considering you did just that, you were acting a little immature, laughing at such a thing; but you felt like young adults sneaking around and that earned a tiny bit of immaturity.

The woman sharing your space looked at you questionably, a silent query asking ‘does my hair look okay?’ you nodding as an answer.

Quickly pulling aside all the curtains inside the wheelhouse to let the light in, you gave Brienne one last long kiss before opening the door and stepping out into the hot Dorne sun. Your coachman stood outside, eyeing you both, obviously wondering what had taken so long but decided not to ask.

“Walk with me?” Turning your head to look up at her, Brienne only nodded, letting you take the first step and her following you with steps to match your stride. She often did this when you walked together, coordinating her pace with yours so she wouldn’t race ahead and you not being able to keep up. It was a slight adjustment, but a very thoughtful one.

When you approached the water-bound vessel your mother was on, she wore the biggest grin as she looked from you to Brienne, her expression a drastic change from the melancholic mood she had adopted as her default since your father passed.

It was unnerving seeing such a display of teeth after only seeing a frown for so long, but you assumed she recognized the taller woman beside you based on your very detailed explanations of her appearance.

Your mother stepped off the ship, the captain she had spoken to earlier barking orders to his men to ready the ship so they could transport the rest of the wares as she reached land.

Brienne had stopped her walk, the same as you, still by your side a couple of feet away from your mother. Close enough that you could hear each other over the cacophony of people, but far enough that your mother wouldn’t be able to tell what you had been doing.

“Brienne, this is my mother. Mother, this is Lord Commander Brienne.” Your mother had her head slightly cocked to the side, a caring and loving look on her face as you introduced them to each other.

The situation in which you had told your parents about Brienne had been completely unplanned. It had been on a hot night shortly after your arrival by your father's bedside as he asked you about Winterfell.

It had only really been a simple question of what your obligations had been, however, the second you had mentioned Brienne’s name, your mother grew intrigued, wanting to probe and prod after hearing the tone and manner of words you used when speaking about the then Ser.

Her clever questions and your oblivious answers caused you to reveal more than you had intended to, and suddenly your parents knew all about the nature of your relationship.

“M’Lady.” Your knightly blonde stayed as formal as always to leave a good first impression. Giving your mother a more drawn-out nod, she left her head tilted down longer than she usually did, deciding to be more casual in her greeting considering the fact that it was your parent.

“So, you’re Lord Commander Brienne of Tarth. I’ve heard so much about you.” Brienne took a panicked glance at you, hoping you hadn’t spoken about the five months of errors on her end that would surely not be appreciated by your mother. You only gave her a reassuring smile back.

“Just Brienne is fine, and only good things, I hope.” The worry in her voice was obvious to you, it goes unnoticed by your mother. Brienne was good at hiding her true reactions to things when the situation called for it, and this was definitively one of those situations.

“Brienne it is. Positive things only, my dear. The joy you have brought my child is unmeasurable, and I am so grateful.” A goofy smile spread on the blonde woman's lips, a combination of relief and glee at learning that you had abstained from telling your mother about her shortcomings, if she did know; Brienne was sure your mother wouldn’t be as friendly as she currently was towards her.

“They have brought me the same amount, M’Lady. Your child is truly exceptional, never met anyone quite like them.” Brienne’s smile changed into a sincere one as she spoke, her voice filled with warmth. Seeing them interact so effortlessly made you all giddy, staring at the tall Commander beside you with a lovestruck expression.

“Why don’t you come back to Lemonwood with us, Brienne. Have supper with us, maybe spend a few nights at our residence, we’d love to host you.” This was really an excuse for your mother to spend time with your knight, to get to know the person her child had fallen madly in love with.

If your father were still alive, you were sure he would sit right beside your mother as they asked Brienne question after question. The image in your mind made you smile fondly. Your father really would have loved to meet her, they would find that their opinions matched on many different matters.

“That sounds very pleasant, and I would love to accept but I am afraid I am unable to. I need to get back to Kings Landing.” The twinge of sadness in her words did not stay hidden from either you or your mother. The reminder that time was not on your side bared itself once again, and no number of prayers could change the fact that you and Brienne had to part.

“Yes, of course. How unfortunate. Perhaps another time?” Your mother did not back down, she laid out a long-standing offer, meaning that sooner or later, Brienne would sit at her dinner table, and she’d be able to learn all about the mysterious woman before her.

“I’d love to take you up on that offer. Perhaps if I am dispatched to Dorne for a longer period of time.” You could tell that Brienne was being polite, yet she seemed genuine in her words. The moment she’d set foot inside the walls of your home, you were sure she would come to regret taking your mother up on the offer. She liked her privacy, and your mother liked prodding. Them together was not a feasible pairing.

“Of course, just send a raven ahead of time so we can prepare, other than that you are always welcome to our home. It was a pleasure to finally meet you, Brienne.” She liked the pretty knight, you could tell. You could also tell that she was itching to get on the road, ready to talk your ear off and tease you about your behavior around the blonde.

It was all with good intentions, something she did when you were young and had an infatuation with someone.

“You too, M’Lady.”

“Safe travels.” She spoke her final words to Brienne before shifting her attention to you, “I will give you two a moment, come find me when you’re done.” With this, she walked back to the still-docked ship she had previously been on, spectating as the crewmen scattered around on deck to get everything ready for departure.

You turned to look at Brienne, her doing the same, a crestfallen expression gracing her features. Your face matching hers, “I sent Bartholomew off with another message this morning. Reply this time, please.”

“Bartholomew?” Even though she was incredibly disheartened, an amused and quizzical look took over her face.

“Yes. One of our message ravens. His real name is Branoc, but I named him Bartholomew the Raven the First. It was whimsical to me.” You lovingly smiled at Brienne, and she reciprocated, smiling with just as much adoration back.

She chuckled slightly, “I see. I will read yours and send one back with Bartholomew the Raven the First. I swear, no more miscommunication.” Her words were true, no more silence from her end, no more misery.

“Good. Well, off you go.” Tears were starting to well up in your eyes, you didn’t want to let her go, did not want to watch her leave but you were afraid there was no other choice. You could see Podrick in the distance behind Brienne, waiting for her to board the ship so they could return back.

“I will be looking forward to hearing your decision when you have given thought to my offer. I love you. Please come back to me soon.” She was dragging this out, wanting your goodbye to last as long as possible so your time wouldn’t be cut short so soon.

“I will try. I love you.” Gazing up into her eyes, you took her hands in yours, an action overlooked by the mass amount of people around you. “Now go. Ser Podrick is waiting for you.”

“Farewell, for now, Ser.” Squeezing your hands, Brienne let go of them and straightened her back, hand resting on its usual place on the hilt of her sword; looking down at you with an over-enthusiastically assertive face, making you giggle a tiny bit.

“Farewell for now, Lord Commander.” One long glance was exchanged before Brienne turned on her heels and started marching over to where Podrick was standing. The last you saw of her tall figure was her boarding the ship and her disappearing below deck.

Walking up to your mother, you grabbed her attention by tapping her gently on the shoulder, her turning around to face you. “I will allow two questions on the ride back, and that is it.” Setting these boundaries with your mother rarely worked, but this time you were serious, dead set on maintaining some seclusion.

“Two questions are all I’ll need.”

———

Two weeks had passed since the events in Planky Town, and you had let it slip to your mother that Brienne had proposed to speak to the King on your behalf. A couple days after she had learned this, she miraculously didn’t need your services anymore, leaving you free to do whatever you wished.

The first thing you did was send a raven to Brienne, telling her that you reflected on her proposal, that you accept, and to expect you the following week.

Directly after this, you had traveled to Sunspear. Letting Prince Martell know that you would no longer be able to assist in whatever he needed. Considering you never swore your services to him and that it was purely a means to keep the ‘protect the innocents’ part of your knightly oath going; the only thing he could do was to thank you for your help and to let you leave.

Packing whatever you needed for your trip, you said your goodbyes to your mother and later that day, you were on a ship heading for Kings Landing. It was another one of your family’s ones, and considering they were already heading up north, they allowed you to ride along in exchange for your assistance in carrying the goods, which you gladly assisted with.

That all led to you standing at the dock of Kings Landing where the tall woman stood and awaited you. Walking up to her, you took a glance around before looking up at her with feigned confusion. “Excuse me, I’m supposed to meet Lord Commander Brienne of Tarth. Do you know where I could find her?”

Brienne smiled playfully, lightly shoving your shoulder, causing you to grin up at her. “You’re not funny, you know?”

“That smile on your face would suggest otherwise.” You were teasing her; she knew you were. You wanted to engage in small banter before diving right into serious King’s Guard business, but Brienne was eager for you to get integrated and fitted so she could take you to her private quarters and cuddle you.

“We can continue this later. Let’s go see the King. He’s looking forward to meeting you.” Brienne began leisurely trekking, you following after her. The sun reflected so perfectly in her gold plates as she journeyed towards the large gate, eventually traveling under it.

You found yourself in shadows for a brief period of time before the light hit your face as you emerged from the dark, stepping out into Fishmonger’s Square.

From there you walked straight until you took a right, walking down The Hook and you couldn’t do much but gape at the Red Keep where it stood, large and marvelous, fit for a King of the Six Kingdoms. As you passed through the curved street, you and Brienne kept up a mindless conversation, not talking about anything important, really, just chatting, enjoying each other’s company.

After finally, reaching the end of The Hook, you were greeted with a set of stairs, going up Aegon’s High Hill. You looked to Brienne with annoyed exhaustion, and she laughed, stating that ‘the leg muscles you get from this makes it worth it, I promise.’ She was being goofy, trying to change your expression into one less irritated, and it worked; she always knew how to make you smile like a fool.

She motioned for you to go first, and you did, knowing that if you lost balance or fell, Brienne would be there to catch you. She, on the other hand, wanted you to go first so she could be bestowed the privilege of having your ass as her view; she would never admit that though.

About halfway up, the knight behind you asked if you wanted to take a break, but you declined, knowing that you were almost there. Give or take a few dozen steps. Brienne shrugged, staying close to your back in case your legs gave out. Even her thighs were burning.

Even though you walked a few steps above her, you still only reached Brienne’s forehead and she found it amusing that someone so short could have so much love, well, you were short to her; everyone was short to her.

You ascended the very last stairstep, the Red Keep towering and looming above you. It was even more intimidating and glorious up close, and you had to crane your neck to even get remotely close to the peak of it. You had to stop yourself from releasing a ‘whoa’ but settled with subtle gawking instead; subtle being eyes and mouth wide open.

Brienne passed your still-standing person, giggling at your amazement, “come on, you silly girl. You can revel in the spectacularism later.” You shook yourself out of your current state when hearing her fond tone, coming to join your blonde Commander by the large doors.

Brienne entered the large building, making sure you were behind her, allowing you to step up to her side. The insides of the building were equally as grand as the outside, a home fit for a King, you thought. You refrained from commenting on the vision that was the Red Keep, but you were fairly certain your knight already knew what you were thinking by the awestruck countenance you had.

When you entered the Throne Room, your former face had been switched to a solemn one, showing that you were a very serious knight who hadn’t been staring at the building you were currently in open-mouthed.

There were two other people in the large space besides you and Brienne. A much shorter man with curly hair, and the King, who sat on his throne which had been moved down from its previous placement so that Bran could lift himself into it.

Brienne leaned down to your ear, talking to you in a hushed tone, “That’s King Brandon Stark, which I assume you know. And the bloke next to him is Lord Hand Tyrion Lannister.” You only hummed in response as she rose to her full height once again.

Tyrion had noticed the blonde's change in mood the second she had returned from Dorne. No longer staring off into nothingness and getting lost in her thoughts. No longer hiding away and sharpening every sword known to man or obsessively counting in the armory.

He had been wondering what the cause for this sudden change in her behavior was, but now that he saw the way she looked at you, the way her eyes lit up as she spoke, and how you acted the same towards her; he drew his own conclusions. He was sure to tease her about this at a later date.

Brienne and you stopped before the King, kneeling in front of him. He called you both up to stand straight, the Lord Commander marching up to stand by her King's side, you standing firmly in place.

“Your Grace.” You kept your eyes fixated on Bran, very aware of Brienne’s eyes on you. You could see her in the corner of your eye, she looked so exalted and heroic standing next to the King in her gold armor and white cloak.

“Lord Brienne speaks very highly of you. She has stated very clearly that she would fight by your side and that she trusts you with her life.” You had to hold back a grin at his words, she spoke just as highly of you as you did of her, “I have heard of your accomplishments on the battlefield, and I must say that I am impressed.”

“Thank you, Sire.”

You had spent the journey here memorizing the oath you had to swear. It was a mighty long one, but it had eventually stuck, and you were sure it would never unstick. You didn’t quite know when you were supposed to swear it, hoping Brienne would give you some sort of signal for when it was time.

Luckily, there was no need for that, King Bran gave you his own very clear instructions with his words, “I would be a fool to not have you in my Kings Guard, especially when my own Lord Commander was essentially bragging about your skills.” At this, Brienne’s head slumped down to hide a smile that crept up on her lush lips, she was a little bit embarrassed at him exposing her. Yet at the same time she was grateful for it because now you knew just how much she wanted you here with her unless any of her other words hadn’t been enough. “Kneel.”

Brienne looked at you with enthusiasm, her pride for you shining brightly in the dimly lit room. She observed as you got down onto your knee once again, barely able to contain her large grin. The corners of her lips twitched, and she was sure that if either of the men beside her were to see it; they would question the reason why she actually wanted you here. She could want you here for two reasons, no? One selfish, one for the good of the kingdom.

Your sword skills matched hers, and to have you next to her would put her so much more at ease. She was well aware that she was an exceptional sword fighter, but to have two with the same skill was calming, knowing that you would both go through hell and high water to get back to the other alive.

Having such a drive force can be lifesaving in dire and lethal situations, especially when your job is to protect the King; riots hadn’t been uncommon in the past, but hopefully, there would be none now that there was new and better leadership.

“I swear to ward the King with all my strength, and to give my blood for his. I shall take no wife, hold no lands, mother no children. I shall guard his secrets, obey his commands, ride at his side, and defend his name and honor.”

What you didn’t seem to notice even though you kept your eyes fixed on Bran, was his slight eyebrow quirk at the fact that you chose to replace father with mother, but wife remained, just as it had with Brienne’s oath.

“Arise.”

Brienne practically beamed at you as you got up from your knee, almost overzealously volunteering to take you to your fitting when Bran and Tyrion started discussing it. The shorter one of the two stared at her with an astute look, mouthing ‘real smooth, Lord Brienne,’ a teasing smile on his face.

The tall blonde shot him one of her signature glares in return, staring at him pointedly and he knew he was going to have fun messing with her about this. Maybe he’ll ask her if she’s still a virgin, maybe her answer had changed since the last time he asked. He was sure it had, but he wanted to hear her say it.

“Your Grace. I will take our newest recruit for measurements, then show them their quarters. Leave it to me.” Bran didn’t think much of Brienne’s willingness, he thought her to be a strange character sometimes and this was one of those times. He just simply nodded to show that she was sanctioned to do just that.

“Lord Commander. Ser. You are both dismissed.” Brienne trotted over to your side, ready to lead you away from the large room.

“Yes. Your Grace.” Speaking unanimously, you and the tall blonde bowed before taking your exit. Side by side, you roamed the regal halls of the Red Keep, and you couldn’t stop yourself from staring in wonderment again, nearing the exit of said building.

Brienne found your extreme fascination and wonder endearing, her heart fluttering at your childlike enthusiasm and admiration, her insides all warm, her stomach filling with butterflies as she watched your wonderstruck face.

The descent of the stairs was much more forgiving than the ascent and you had found yourself walking down The Kings Road that winded through Kings Landing, and as you walked, Brienne explained to you that you had two stops to make, one at the armorer for measurements for your new plates and gambeson, and a second at the tailor, for new tunics and trousers, but also for your long white cloak.

She spoke to you the entire time about what she had been up to the five months you were apart, stating that it was too much to be written on paper, as you navigated the streets of Kings Landing to make your errands.

It all went smoothly and eventually, Brienne had taken you to the White Sword Tower, where your chambers were located. “I managed to get your room next to mine, so we can easily sneak in between if we wish.” Her voice was hushed and her tone mischievous as she showed you her quarters, and then yours. You smiled at her words; she hadn’t changed one bit.

“Come into mine. I wish to show you something.” Suddenly her voice and face turned candid, opening the door to her room and allowing you to walk in before her, closing it after entering the quarters herself.

She immediately walked up to her hearth, starting a warming and crackling fire, and then moved to the armor stand in her room, beginning the removal process of each piece of her golden plates.

You couldn’t help but look at the back of her head with a puzzled expression. It was getting close to sunset, but not close enough to warrant Brienne unstrapping her armor. She usually kept it on until bedtime, and it was still light outside.

Continuing her process, she spoke to you, voice soft and tender, “Go look in that book over there.” She twitched her head quickly, motioning you in the direction she wanted you to go.

Walking over to her bed table, your eyes landed on a book. Brienne didn’t seem like the type of person who would be interested in dramatic literature. “The book isn’t of importance; I just picked a random one. Look inside.”

You looked back at Brienne, only having her gambeson left to remove, but had stopped for a second to turn her head to look at you, offering an encouraging smile. Shifting your gaze back to the book, you picked it up and opened the worn-out leather cover. The paper inside seemed to stare back at you with accusing eyes.

It was tear-stained, obvious marks on the spots the Lord Commander’s tears had landed. You were almost certain about what the parchment was, your speculations were only confirmed when you removed it from the pages and unfolded it; your handwriting from five months ago glaring at you.

“You kept it?” This was surely a painful memory for Brienne, why she opted to keep it you did not know. The evidence of her evening cries was clear on the slightly ripped note; she must’ve read this every single day.

“Yes.” She was finally finished with her armor and gambeson and moved to join you by her bed. “I needed to have something of yours, and this was all I had.” She stopped in front of you, gently taking the book and letter from your hands, placing them back on the bed table before grabbing hold of your hands. “I read it every single night, desperately trying to remember your voice. But I- I couldn’t.”

Her gaze shifted from yours to the floor, and you were hit with a surge of woe seeing her evade your eyes. You did not know why she felt the need to do so. Was she ashamed that she had forgotten your voice? Or maybe embarrassed admitting that she read your letter every night even if it reminded her of the dark winter evening by the stables? You did not know, and you didn’t want to ask, not now at least.

“Darling,” one of your hands tangled itself out of Brienne’s to softly lift her chin up, so you could look into her magnificent irises. “I forgot your voice too. No matter, though. We’ll be able to hear each other's voice every day from now on.” She smiled down at you with sad eyes, an unasked question in the air that you both wanted to ask, the taller woman being the actual one to ask it.

“Will you let me hold you, please? I wish to hold you.” It was almost like she was shy, acting like it was the beginning stage of your relationship once again, and in a way it kind of was. You were in need of her warmth, her closeness, and the strong enveloping of her large and long arms. For her to hold you tight and never let go, desperate to be back in her embrace once again.

You responded by kissing her tenderly on her lips, removing your hand from her chin, and using the one still in her hand to drag her down onto the bed with you. Both you and Brienne were still fully clothed, an error that needed to be resolved; you wanted to feel her hot skin against yours once again like you had done so many moons ago. “I want to feel your bare flesh against mine, please.”

Brienne watched you lovingly and fondly, nodded, and started to remove her clothing, stripping down to her undergarments. It was nothing sexual, just the need to feel the entirety of her against you; an animalistic urge to feel a sense of security. You followed suit, undressing with haste, folding up your clothes, and placing them next to hers at the foot of the bed.

Your blonde knight in shining armor crawled under the covers and laid down on her side, holding the fur up for you so you could do the same. Lifting up the same arm that had been holding the cover as you did.

She wasted no time in slinging the same limb around you when you had laid down next to her, pulling you close to her, your back against her front. Her face nuzzling into your neck, breathing in your scent.

Her strong musk and arms encompassed you, the faint and familiar smell of fresh grass and light sweat overwhelming your senses once again. You were completely intoxicated by her proximity, you couldn’t think, your mind was scrambled, heart racing.

She started pressing soft kisses to your skin, supple lips ghosting over your neck and shoulder, making you release a sigh. Brienne whispered against your skin, her breath slightly tickling you. “Tell me what you did in Dorne during the five months we were apart. Catch me up, please.” You were more than happy to.

As you started to recount the events that had occurred over the past five months, Brienne’s hold around you tightened, attempting to have you even closer to her which at this point was impossible. There was barely any space left between you, not even a small air pocket.

Your legs were tangled with her incredibly long ones, fingers drawing mindless circles on her arm as you told her about your journey to Dorne, your father’s passing, and your family’s trader business.

Brienne hummed every once in a while, to let you know that she was listening, her arm around you strong like cement. As she pressed a barely felt but burning kiss to the skin behind your ear, you realized that you were finally back where you were always meant to be.

In Brienne’s arms.

–––

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heisenwhore · 2 months

Text

The weird little deer man haunts my every waking moment, so I’m posting this tiny part of what I’ve been writing just to get it out of my brain (and my notes app).

Yes, it’s an OC; crucify me.

For context; Takes place a few days after Alastor’s fight with Vox. Serena (OC in question) is Alastor’s wife. She’s got bird attributes and siren-like powers. She and Vox have a… complicated relationship.

Usage of powers are notated in purple. Also with fancy text, if it doesn't mess with the format too much (lmk I'll remove it).

Tags: brief violence, Vox getting his ass kicked, Language (duh), Obligatory OC, Alastor x OC, Established Relationship, Angst, Wife is missing her husband, Southern Woman getting mad, Being married to Alastor should be a warning in and of itself

A zip of electricity notified her to his presence before he spoke. “What are you doing here, Serena?” Vox’s voice came from a dark corner to her left, notably lacking the annoyingly bright grandiosity that it usually possessed. He sounded tired, defeated, and the rage boiling in Serena’s gut quelled for just a moment, confusion taking its place. She turned in the direction she’d heard him, searching him out. He was easy to find, despite the darkness of the room, the light emanating from the screen that served as his head making him unable to hide for very long. She gasped at the sight of him, broken and beaten before her, his screen covered in scratches and cracks, a sizable portion of it completely black. A pang of sadness ran through her, sympathy for the demon that she and her husband had once called ‘friend,’ who, despite being a fucking asshole, had never been anything but kind and considerate to her.

Serena shook her head to wave off the feeling, recollecting her anger, reminding her why she had come here in the first place. She glared up at him, hissing through gritted teeth, “Where is he?”

Vox blinked. “Who are we talking about?”

Serena growled, her fury reigniting in full force. “Where is my husband, Vox?” She stepped closer to him, her wings beginning to unfurl from where they wrapped around her shoulders, her fingers itching as she resisted the urge to claw the rest of his screen apart.

Vox huffed, crossing his arms, one hand moving to press against the center of his face, where his nose would be, if he’d only had one. “Oh, yeah, that asshole,” he grumbled, “I don’t know; haven’t seen him since our little spat.” Vox’s calm demeanor dropped as Serena abruptly closed the distance between them, backing him against the wall, one hand holding him in place by his tie, the other’s claws digging into the stone only inches from his screen.

She was angrier than he’d ever seen her, looming above him, her wings fully inflated, keeping her in the air, their hulking size blocking out any path of escape, staring down at him with the most lethal expression he had ever seen. "D̳̻̽̒O̪̟͔ͧͥ ̼̙͓̝̂̈́N̰͎͚̭̭̳̻̊̐͆O̪̟͔̝̦ͧͥȚͬ ̹͖̈́͑̋͑͑L͎͕̦̀ͫ̊̊ͨ͑I̗E̺̭͆̈͋̈́ͅ ̝̦Ț̳̻ͬO̪̟͔ͧͥ ͫͮͭ̃M̰̖ͤ̚E̺̭͆̈͋̈́ͅ!”

Her scream echoed in his bones, the words vibrating, burning into his skin, taking his body and bending him to her command. Her gaze was so intense, the neon of her irises was painful to look at, but he couldn’t look anywhere else, their glow lulling him back each time his eyes attempted to venture too far. Even once they were shut, her light called to him, but Vox resisted. “Alastor was here! He came HERE to meet with YOU, and now he is GONE! Where the F̣̙̣̟̺̳̭̖̦͒̐̒̀͑̾U̱̬̙̠̗͓̩ͩ̃͑̏C͕͓̝̝͉͉͖͔͑̈̉̋̒̉K̮͈̤̭͎̽̈́̌̋ IS MY HUSBAND?!”

The answer was pulled from Vox before its thought could even form, ripped from his tongue by some unseen force, “I DON'T KNOW!” Serena stiffened above him, but the hold on his tie faltered. The sensation of her loosening grip drew Vox’s attention, and he willed himself to face her glare once more. She was still angry, so furious that his knees wobbled in response, but there was something else written across her face, nearly outshined by the glow her eyes emitted; sadness, grief, a dam of tears that threatened to burst at a moments notice.

Her breaths were rapid, shallow puffs of air, blowing past his face, the scent floral and bloody. “What,” her voice hitched, breaking under the weight of the question that followed, “w-what did you do to him?”

#alastor #alastor the radio demon #alastor altruist #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #radio demon #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fandom #hazbin #hazbin hotel au #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel oc #hazbin oc #oc #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor x reader

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corrodedcoffincumslut · 1 year

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❤️🖤Pairing - Eddie Munson! x Plus-sized Fem!Reader

🖤❤️Porn with some plot - You dress up as Eddie’s fantasy cheerleader for Halloween at The Hideout. Eddie metaphorically dies when he sees his girlfriend dressed up & fucks her cock drunk. No use of Y/N.

❤️🖤Author's Note - Reader is referred to with pet names & named “Bunnie”. Reader is described as a curvaceous, plus-sized alt beauty. Big tits, small waist & large hips, absolute perfection in my opinion. Had to add in Eddie with a cock piercing & reader with nipple piercings, sorry It’s self indulgent I know! Big loves to @bexreadstoomuch for her help editing this one and inspiring me to write some smut. 😘

🖤❤️Please comment & reblog if you enjoyed my work. I’m working on maybe this being a mini-series of Eddie & Bunnie. Let me know if you would like to read more of my smutty ramblings!

❤️🖤Please DO NOT SHARE my work on other platforms without my permission!

🖤❤️Warnings- SMUT! Pure unadulterated smut! Over 18’s + ONLY - Under 18’s Do Not Interact!!! Plus-sized reader, Graphic descriptions of sex, PIV raw (M & F), Oral sex (M & F), Semi-public sex, Daddy! kink, Dom! Eddie, Switch! reader, Breeding kink, Overstimulation kink, Cheerleader kink, Younger Pervy Eddie, Cock piercing Eddie, Nipples pierced reader, Dirty talk, Mentions of marriage, Cream-pie, Cum-eating, Multiple orgasms, Squirting, Plus-size reader has feelings of insecurity about her body (Eddie puts this right, don’t worry! He loves a thicc babe!) Eddie is soft & fluffy bf at parts. Mentions of alcohol & weed usage.

❤️🖤Word Count- 6.6k

🖤❤️🖤❤️🖤❤️🖤❤️🖤❤️🖤❤️🖤❤️🖤❤️🖤❤️

Eddie always had a thing for cheerleaders. The sinfully short skirts, the pretty bows in their pigtails swinging as they danced in formation, the playful pom-poms, long thigh high socks that went all the way up, basically school-safe stockings. He never mentioned it but you could tell just by the glint in his eyes whenever the topic came up when you reminisced about your school days, especially since his high school crush was captain of the cheer squad.

Before you, Eddie was just like any other sexually frustrated teenage boy. Looking from beneath the bleaches, for a upskirt view of the tight skin hugging shorts and if he was lucky the outline of what lay beneath his pristine, perfect, princess girl’s pussy, wishing she’d forgone the shorts knowing he’d be lurking under there, all under the disguise of a good place to catch a smoke break and escape the Jason and his goons.

Now years later sat with the guys buzzing around a table in The Hideout in the post-gig afterglow, the conversation topic turning back to their shared school days. Eddie admits his previous crush on Chrissy and the other cheerleaders. You on the other hand were the complete opposite of his high school crush. Short in stature with curves in all the right places, big doughy thighs (that Eddie loved to squash his big hands into), a high plump ass (all the better for spanking in Eddie’s mind), wide hips (perfect to hold onto whilst he rutted into your soaking core), slim waist (he’d always loved Jessica rabbit), heaving tits (need I say more) that overspilled every bra you bought. Not exactly built for the cheer squad pyramid. Causing your mind to flood with insecurities.

Your mind overwhelmed, opened back to your old demons. The ones you’d thought were dead and buried after leaving your school years behind. Your body was different, not hideous. You didn’t hate it by any means, but it was definitely bigger than the slender slips of skirt your boyfriend had spent years pining over. Trying to woo and failing before finding you one night in the Hideout, drunkenly headbanging to Megadeth, Anthrax, crushing the air guitar solo in Slayer’s “Raining blood” (your favourite). You were wearing your favourite criminally short denim cut-offs that hugged your ass, fishnet tights adorned with the obligatory holes torn in the pattern and your brown tasselled cowboy boots. Topped off with your favourite Def Leppard muscle vest cropped to show your soft belly and navel piercing. A heavenly vision straight from Whitesnake video as far as Eddie was concerned.

Eddie instantly fell in love. The swing of your hips to the flick of your hair, as you grinded and swayed when the Jukebox switched to Van Halen’s “Panama” caused his cock to twitch in his pants, stiffening and straining more against the zipper more as you danced to the beat of the music. Wandering hands following the lines of your own curves, fingers dancing, cupping your voluptuous chest, up your neck and through your tousled, wild hair. Eddie’s eyes just about fell out of his head, when you locked eyes across the distance, you beckoned him over, with the curl of your finger and the biting of your bottom cherry red lip, as you’d noticed him watching from across the dingy, dimly lit bar. All this leading to you two becoming inseparable since. Nonetheless you let the doubts crawl into your subconscious. Were you what he really wanted? That he dreamt of, the perfect girl, his perfect cheerleader, his Chrissy.

You swallowed down the remainder of your beer and continued to laugh and giggle with the rest of the guys and their girls, pretending you were unphased by Eddie’s confession. An hour or so had passed, as had Gareth found himself a nondescript college girl from the next town over and Jeff left with his girlfriend, Sarah. Kevin, unfortunately, is still unlucky in love with the girls and gets a lift home with Jeff, leaving you alone with Eddie at the bar.

You chewed at your cheeks as you glanced up at Eddie, him ushering over Randy, the Hideout’s owner. “Two more buds for me and Bunnie please, Rand!” Eddie shouted across the width of the busy bar. Smiling, he glanced down at your distracted expression, causing his eyebrows to furrow. “Everything okay there, sweetheart?” Eddie whispered in your ear, lips brushing the edge. Nodding you smiled, staring into his doe eyes, melting your sadness away momentarily. “You sure?” He questioned again, not believing you, seeing the sorrow in your round ocean blue eyes. “Am I enough for you Eddie?” you whimpered, only just above a whisper, the beer making your secret inner self-deprecating thoughts spill from your mouth. “What?!” Eddie gawked back, spinning quickly to face you, stunned.

“You said you liked the cheerleaders back in school Eds, said you pined over them. Perving on them at break in the canteen. Hangin’ around the school field after class to watch them rehearse, said it drove you wild, Said she drove you WILD…I know you said you are over her, and she’s married, a mum of two and living her own life now, but I’m no cheerleader baby. Far from it, look at me! I’m a metal chick, I don’t wear those pretty ribbon bows and I don’t know the chants, I’d be on my ass in the dirt if I tried the dancing and the pyramid and tumbles and that stuff…sure I can blast a beat on the air guitar, kick a guy in the dick for being too handsy on the dancefloor and sink a beer quicker than most but I’m not the embodiment of school spirit like you wanted!” you ranted, off on a tangent stuck inside your own insecure thoughts, stepping back you pointed to your own body, almost shamefully at your curves “is THIS what you WANT?” Biting your lips trying to fight back the big, wet tears that threaten to spill over your lower lashes.

Eddie was dumbfounded at the words falling from your lips. He thought you knew how he felt, how he felt about you? Maybe he got swept up with the boys earlier, forgetting you might get a little jealous or insecure about his past endeavours. You’d never reacted like this before when you had spoken about the past, you took as many lovers as he had, if not more, you were a sexually liberated woman and loved your freedom before you settled down together.

“Sweetheart, why would you ever think that? I’d choose you over a thousand Chrissy’s” he said as he placed his large hands on the sides of your jaw, thumbs stroking the apples of your cheeks, kissing your pink bitten lips. “I’ve only ever loved you Princess, sure I thought me and Chrissy we meant to be…But I was 17, and stupid, thinking with just my dick. You make me think with my heart and my dick! Baby…” Eddie sighed. “Bunnie you’re everything to me, you’re all I want and could ever want. I love you and only YOU” He smiled, placing another hasty kiss on your lips. “And for the record I think you’d make a smoking hot cheerleader. I swear to our saviour Lemmy, if I ever see you in a cheer uniform I’ll lose my shit, hey I’m pretty sure I’d wife you right there!” he smirked and half joking. Swallowing your woeful thoughts again, you smiled, glanced back into his big brown orbs. Losing yourself there in those muddy wells, so in love. Noted, you thought.

Fast forward to where you are now. Halloween was next month and you were searching for a costume to wear to the annual Hideout’s Halloween metal fest gig. Corroded Coffin were on the bill, as well as some other local metal bands. When the thought popped back into your brain. The perfect costume. You called Robin to see if Vickie could help with her sewing skills and enrolled Nancy on costume design. All agreeing, the pieces falling into place perfectly.

The night before the gig, Robin called yours and Eddie’s apartment leaving the message on the voicemail “Hey Bunnie, it’s ready”. Eddie’s puzzled face rounded the corner of the kitchen island as the message played. “What's that about Sweetheart?” he asked, confused by the secret simplicity of the message. Smiling, you answered “just girl stuff Ed’s, don’t worry about it. But I’ve gotta nip out quick Eds, I’ll be back soon” turning to grab your car keys you kissed him on the lips and dashed out the door to Robin’s.

Facing the floor length mirror, it was even more perfect than you’d imagined. Every detail was impeccable, the red stitching over the black fabric. Contrasting deep black with crimson red and bright white. Eddie was gonna flip his lid and shoot his load, when he saw you.

The black skirt, trimmed with a crimson stripe running parallel to the hem, skimming the tops of your plush thighs, a pair of sinfully small tight black shorts covering your modesty. The top was a crisp white with black and scarlet ribbon sewn in line to the neckline in a deep V, exposing a criminal amount of cleavage. And front and centre Eddie’s design, the Hellfire Club logo. The devil face, encrusted with shining red crystals, horns in black gems and eyes of bright yellow sparkles.

“Vickie!” you exclaimed, “it’s incredible!” pulling her into a bone crushing hug. “Eddie’s gonna cum in his pants when he sees this, I bet we don't even make it through the show!”you joked. Laughing she rubbed the back of her neck shyly, always unable to accept the compliment. “You’re so talented, I can’t thank you enough, it's amazing. I owe you big time!! Beers are on me for like the next 6 months I swear. Robin you never said she was this good, like this is another level, she should be working in the theatre making this stuff!” Robin smiled, kissing Vickie’s cheek agreeing with your gushing words of praise. “I tell her all the time she’s too talented to be working for some stiff in a suit but she never listens to me” Robin replied.

Changing back into your jeans and tshirt you folded your new uniform into your tote. After landing big sweet friendly kisses on both Robin and Vickie’s cheeks you left Robin’s and set off back home to an unbeknownst Eddie. As soon as you hit home, you ran past the kitchen and into your shared bedroom, hiding your costume amongst your usual assortment of band shirts in the closet away from Eddie’s prying eyes.

A week later, the day had arrived, Eddie had to set off early to the event with the rest of the boys, helping set up the stage and equipment ready for the party to start. Eddie had dressed as his go to as always every halloween, one the lost boys. A black cotton loose shirt, closed by a small amount of buttons, open to reveal his lean muscular chest and tattoos, two chains dangling round his thick neck, tight leather trousers, that made his ass & thighs look so good you wanted to bite ‘em, the closure of which was leather thong string tied in a bow. (One pull and all his deliciousness would be revealed you thought.) Hair loose, tangled in curls and down as always. Eyes smoked out with black liner, defining the chocolate orbs you loved so much. Finished to perfection with two white fangs on his canines. Simply insatiable you thought, as you caught a glimpse as he popped the teeth in the bathroom mirror while you showered. He knew you loved him like this, always trying to tease you, every halloween.

He popped his head through the shower door, trying his best not to get wet under the spray, “I’m off Sweetheart, I’ll meet you there. I can’t wait to see your costume, I can’t believe you're being so mean and won’t let me see it beforehand. We always share costumes before we go” he chided with a fake frown. “Patience is a blessing Ed’s, believe me you'll need it” you sweetly sang back, landing a soft kiss to his awaiting lips. Before stepping back under the water spray, water running between your heavy soapy tits, left hand pinching your pierced nipples and right hand leading your fingers into the neat sprinkling of hair that covered the front of your mound.

“Jesus, Bunnie. You’re gonna be the death of me, I swear. I’m popping a boner already, I’m gonna be cradling this all night now, you just wait till I get you back here later” Eyes closed, he tilted his head back, biting his lip, thoughts swimming of images of you entwined together later. “...Love you Princess, be good” he playfully warned leaving the bathroom. “Bye Ed’s, love you Handsome” you giggled hearing him pick up his van keys, stuffing them into his leather jacket pocket, guitar case and amp from the living room. Hearing the door slam shut, your plan could be set into action. Finishing your shower, you quickly dried off and started your transformation.

Swiping the shiny cherry red across your lips, you kiss pouted into the mirror, placing the lipstick in your bag for touch ups later. Giving your pigtails one last adjustment tug to your head and pulling the ribbons tight into the bows towards your scalp. You stepped back and gave your costume another once over. Eddie really was going to lose it. Paired with a pair of white socks, black stripes at the top and blank white tennis shoes. He was sure going to be gonner the moment he laid eyes on you. He was right, you did make a smoking hot cheerleader, even if you didn’t have the school spirit, more inclined to have the alcoholic spirit you’d hidden in your hip flask. Hearing the taxi’s horn you dashed out the door, and down the stairs to meet your love.

The gravel crunched under your bright white new tennis shoes as you crossed the Hideout’s car park towards the entrance, Gruff Harold the usual bouncer smiled upon seeing your gleaming face. “Christ Bunnie '' he gulped as you gave a little curtsy, (guessing the costume was working its magic already you thought to yourself). “Free entry for fallen angels tonight” he winked, stepping aside allowing you entry, knowing you were there with eyes only for Eddie.

Inside the bar was full of familiar and new faces, all ages out enjoying the buzz of live music and the promise of cheap booze, shredding guitars and heavy drum beats. You recognised the band currently playing, another few local guys. “Occult Offerings” meaning Corroded Coffin were up next, and Eddie would be backstage still prepping with the guys, psyching himself up.

Heading to the bar you ordered yourself a beer and whiskey chaser for courage and another beer for Eddie, knowing he’d need it mid-set. Gulping down the first sip and downing your shot, your eyes scanned the packed space for your friends. Steve’s hand flew into the air to get your attention, along with little’s faces flying into view near the front of the make-shift stage. Dustin excitedly bounced on his heels to the quicken drum beat.

Squeezing through the crowd to join them, you greeted Steve and Nancy both with a hug, it was rare to see them both out after they’d had kids, Mrs Wheeler on babysitting duty with Holly in tow. Steve was dressed as a werewolf, furry ears nestled in his quaffed hair and claws on the ends of his fingers, torn chequered shirt and jeans. Nancy was a naughty nurse, a fitted cotton dress and a cap perched in her permed curls. “Bunnie, you look incredible! Hey if you weren’t Eddie’s girl I’m pretty sure you’d have a queue of fellas buying tickets to the prep rally” Steve pawned at you, earning a nudge from Nancy, “Steve!” She eyerolled. “They’re all animals, honestly” she giggled at you “But honestly Bunnie, you look great, God help Eddie when you finally see him”.

You spotted Robin and Vickie coming back from the toilets over Nancy’s shoulder, smudged lipstick over their mouths. “No guessing what they’d been up to in the toilets then” you smirked to Nancy as they stumbled over, still kissing every few steps. Robin dressed as Elvis, a beautifully rhinestoned catsuit presumably made by the same talented hands as your costume, Vickie as a cat, with now smudged whiskers drawn over her cheeks.

Each little had their own costume too. Will was his wizard character you’d recognised from Eddie’s campaigns, Mike and El were a couple costume of Lydia and Beetlejuice, Lucas wore his old basketball kit, fake slit throat, kit shredded and covered in blood splatter. Max was a zombie in a torn shirt and her jeans, face covered in latex, scabbed up, dripping in fake blood, never to be out done by her boyfriend. Dustin’s costume was less extreme, dressed as Dr. Emmet Brown from Back to the future. Clever and cute as always. Jonathan and Argyle were nowhere to be seen, presumably high in the carpark, hot boxing Argyle’s van once more you thought.

You chatted and cheered for Occult Offerings as they finished their last song. Randy came on the stage, clapping enticing another loud cheer from the audience “Give it up for Occult Offerings people!” He shouted into the mic. “Up next, and a firm favourite here at The Hideout, Corroded Coffin!” stepping to the side and letting the boys take their places on the stage for the bands change over. You placed Ed’s beer by his usual mic stand and quickly disappeared back into the crowd to keep your costume a surprise a little longer.

Ten minutes passed and you’d chased another whiskey at the bar and were well into sinking another beer, when you finally saw Eddie stepping up to the mic ready to start. Nodding to the other member he spoke into the mic, “Hi, we’re Corroded Coffin” before starting to play the beginnings of Judas Preists, Painkiller. Announcing the title and diving straight into the song. You loved watching him play, completely losing himself to the music, head thrown back, fingers teasing over the frets, strong wrists strumming the strings, truly living his rockstar fantasy. It always made fire start in your core, instantly as his fingers teased the strings.

You snaked your way back to the front of the crowd in front of the stage, when his eyes found you in the crowd still approaching, he miss-placed a note. Causing the other members to look up and over to him, finding his love drunk expression fixed on you. “Hey Baby” you mouthed smiling back with a small wave. Eddie’s chocolate brown eyes drank you up, all of you, jaw slack mid solo, the rest of the audience disappearing into the ethos as he saw only you. You danced and Eddie watched in awe, tits bouncing, head banging, pigtails swishing with the motion. Luckily his sweetheart was good at hiding his growing bulge at the front of the tight leather pants, which would have been hard to disguise without the guitar covering. Your movements took him straight back to the moment he first laid eyes on you, but even more beautiful than he remembered.

The show went on for another twenty or so minutes before Eddie announced this to be the last song. “This song goes out to my pretty, number one, cheerleader” Eddie shouted into the mic, locking eyes you grinned. Doe eyes now looking through your long lashes to catch his wink in your direction, “I Surrender” by Rainbow. Singing every word to you, staring into your eyes the whole song and meaning every word. You held your hands in a heart shape blowing a kiss, and he pretended to catch it and kiss his knuckles between the lyrics. He was a goner and you knew it, completely at your mercy. As the song finished he jumped down from the stage pulling you straight into his arms.

“Fuuucccckkkk Bunnie” he growled in your ear. “Are you trying to kill me?!”

“Guess you like it then Ed’s” you kissed his lips. “Do I like it?” Taking your hand he rubbed your hand over his rock hard cock against his leather clad crotch. Another kiss. “Tell me Princess, do you think I like it?” And again, a kiss. You swallowed a tantalisingly sweet giggle at his needs. “C’mon Ed’s I’ll get you another beer, you look a little…. thirsty” you teased as you turned, taking his hand to walk through the crowd towards the bar. “No” was all the reply to you. “Van. Now.” Dragging you in the opposite direction towards the door. Leaving your friends laughing behind, you shrugged allowing him to lead you backstage. “Look guys, can you grab sweetheart for me, I’m, errr, we’ve gotta, I..I” Eddie stuttered to the three still on stage wrapping up their equipment. “Just go” Gareth rolled his eyes, “you'll be useless to us right now anyway” he laughed knowing the effect your costume was having on not just Eddie, but most of the male population in the packed out bar. Eddie nodded in appreciation, busting through the back door into the cold air outside of the car park by his Van. “Keys” he grumbled to himself, turned on his heels and ran back inside, leaving you alone outside.

Reaching into your bag to pull a cigarette out and lit the end with the trusty silver zippo, Eddie had gifted you on your last birthday. Inhaling the smooth smoke, you blew it back out into the inky sky. Before you could take another puff, Eddie snatched it from your lips, taking a huge toke on the burning stick, before dropping it to gravel, and on to your mouth in one swift move. Causing you to stumble back on the brick wall of the building. Towering over you, wolfish grin across his teeth. Fangs now tucked in his pocket, (you didn’t need another reason to make you choke).

“Bunnie, I’m sorry. I just need you…I NEED YOU NOW” he gasped between haste kisses, sloppy, all teeth clattering and lips missing their mark. You moaned into his mouth through another heated kiss as you felt his thick calloused fingers travel up your thighs, round your plump hips and onto your chubby ass cheeks, staying in place with a firm squeeze to the fat there. Nudging his thigh between your thighs, pushing his knee up to your now soaking core. Causing you to grind your clothed aching heat on his firm lean thigh in response. “All this for me, Bunnie… Fuck” he leaned back for another look at your unholy appearance.

“You must have been made for me Bunnie, Christ. Look at you. Look what you do to me, I’m a feral animal for you. There I was playing all with my best friends, doing what I love most and all I could think of was every way I could ruin you… and thats what I’m going to do…I’m going to fucking ruin you” Eddie whispered in your ear, nibbling on the lobe. Kissing down your neck to find your sweet spot, behind your ear, down over your collar bones, his hands working your shirt up over your chest to expose your heavy tits to the crisp night air. Pulling your breast from the bra cup, he placed his lips straight on your peaking nipple. Sliding his tongue over the cool metal bars and softly sucking. An uncontrollable loud moan fell from your lips. “Eddieeeeee'' you whined.

Eddie fingers found the font of your tiny shorts and tore them down your thick thighs to your knees, tangled up on your socks. Rubbing his fingers through your tidy sparse hair and between your wet folds. Your hands flew instantly into his messy head of curls, nails biting into his scalp. Inviting a guttural groan from Eddie. Still suckling at your now hard bullet like nipples he kept sliding his fingers back and forth through your slick, gathering it and pressing his rough fingertips up to your swollen bud, lightly tapping and flicking your clit. “Eddie, someone could see” you gasped, not that you really cared. “Yeah they could”, he replied. Pretty matter of fact and nonchalant, without batting an eyelid, continuing his minstrokes, continuing with the assault on your body. Thus causing the white heat to begin to build, panting moans a song of pleasure into the autumn breeze. “Eddie we can’t...our friends are inside…the kids are all here…Dustin came back from college to see you” you choked out between moans pushing your hands into Eddie’s chest, “Sure we can Princess” was all the answer you got back.

Eddie’s fingers still exploiting your overly sensitive centre, “I’m so close, Baby. Gonna cum” you panted into Eddie’s mouth through rough open mouthed kisses. Tongues in a hot wet battle between connected lips. “Good girl” he beamed. Feeling the pleasure intensifying with every pass of Eddie’s touch of your drenched heat, the blinding pleasure gushed from your core, covering Eddie’s nibble fingers in your juices. Eddie held his fingers up to his mouth and tasted your sticky slick humming in elated glee. “Sweetheart, you taste even sweeter than usual in this outfit” he purred, diving his fingers back to your pussy to collect the nectar and back to your open mouth. He pushed the tips in your inviting mouth and grinned as you sucked the taste from his fingers, your flat tongue allowing him to push them further back in your wanting mouth, before swirling them round and hollowing your cheeks, letting them go with the loud pop.

“I need another taste, ‘tis like honey straight from the source”. Kneeling to the floor he pushed your skirt up round your waist and pushed his head under. Pushing his nose into your mound of curls and taking a deep inhale of your natural scent. “You smell like heaven Bunnie” he muttered, before pulling your panties off your ankles and hiking your leg over his shoulder, opening your pussy to his with his nudging nose and zeroing in on your clit. Looking down you met his chocolate orbs swallowed by huge black pupils, full of lust staring back into your own icy blue ones.

Digging deeper into your wet folds, his tongue going forward into your entrance, rapidly tongue fucking your pussy. Your body rippled with pleasure, the familiar coil beginning to tighten once again, more intense and quicker since he’d already beckoned one from you. As Eddie pursued his assault on your cunt, high pitched louder moans creeping from your throat with every slurp and teasing suck on your inner lips and walls. Plunging two fingers into your hole he concentrated his attention back to your tingling clit. “Edddiiiieee” you cried out “Gonna cum again”, mouth fixed in a permanent O shape. Throbbing with desire, Eddie sucked hard on the bud, pulling a booming cry from your throat. Feeling your walls tighten, Eddie upped the pace of his fingers and licked and sucked unmercifully, until the pressure in your stomach became too much and the coil snapped.

Your vision going white, eyes dancing in sparkles and your body convulsing in ecstasy, you came hard, coating your inner thighs and soaking Eddie’s face. You didn’t care that your back was all scratched from the roughness of the brick wall, your head an empty space, your only thought was Eddie. Cum drunk and coming down from your high you floated back into yourself.

Eddie’s lips crash back on yours, his chin wet with your cum, you taste your sweetness on his tongue rapidly into your luscious mouth. Not wasting a second you pushed Eddie back, spinning him, now you caging him against the bricks. “My turn big boy” you purred into Eddie’s plush, pink, wet lips.

Pulling the ends leather thong, easily undoing the fastening of Eddie’s trousers. Eddie’s bulge poking through the gapping front. Diving your soft hands under the comfortable chequered fabric of Eddie’s boxers and onto his big, girthy cock. Encasing your hand round Eddie’s throbbing member you began to move your hand up and down, along the length, fingertips tickling the tip and ball ring that sat through the end, which caused Eddie to take a sharp intake of breath between his teeth. “Fuck sweetheart” Eddie groaned and you smiled prettily, now kissing down the length of his chest. Pulling out his cock, pushing his plaid boxers under his heavy balls, you fell down onto your knees, sharp gravel and stones digging into your knees (something you might later regret, only a second thought for now!) Only burning hot lust clouding your mind instead of your grazed sore knees.

You licked a fat flat lick from the base of his cock right to the top, encircling the flushed rosy head, flicking the piercing with your tongue lightly, enclosing it with your lips before releasing him and licking back down to his balls. Taking them in your mouth and tasting Eddie’s natural aroma. “Bunnie, you must be a some kinda succubus, cause you’re fucking killing me here” Eddie choked out. Taking his full length in your mouth and hands, you felt his hands settle round your pigtails. Humming in approval you sucked up and down his sizable pulsating cock, the vibrations creating more moans and groans in approval from Eddie. Hollowing your cheeks and opening your throat, to increase the pressure on every pass, the metal grazing your closing throat. Eddie threw his head back in rapture as he chased his orgasm.

Spit dripping from either side of your red lips and dribbling down your wet chin with every bob of your head, as Eddie began you fuck your throat. Eddie’s thrusts quickly became sporadic and erratic.“Fuccccckk” Eddie came hard with a loud groan, white spurts landing in your throat, you hummed with delight, swallowing down his cum in one gulp. Sticking your tongue out playfully, showing your empty mouth, you giggled as Eddie’s dick kicked up again in arousal. Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, smudging what was left of your red lipstick across your sweaty glistening face. Eddie pulled you back up to stand.

“Van. NOW.” Knees now blooded with cuts from the uneven rocky ground and pants left behind on the ground. You were hastily pulled over to the van’s back doors, tripping over your feet as you stumbled trailing behind Eddie. Eddie unlocked the doors, impatiently fumbling with his keys in the lock, once unlocked he ripped them open. “Bend over” Eddie’s voice, velvety with lust, rough hands pushed you down onto the cold metal of the van’s back step. Catching your supple stomach as you fell forward with his huge, splayed ringed hands.

Kicking your legs apart he teased his stiffened hard cock through your soaking folds, enticing another soft moan from you. Before plunging into you, inch by agonisingly blissful inch into your awaiting, inviting hole. Holding your hips in place with a bruising grip. He waited a few seconds for you to adjust to the stretch, enticing a nod from you to continue, before thrusting into your creamy wet cunt, at a merciless pace. Eddie’s cock hitting your g-spot on every thrust, the fire began to rapidly engulf your senses again, ripping through in your muscles.

“You gonna cum again, Baby?” Eddie cooed. “Hhmmmm” you hummed, losing yourself in his lustful gaze. “Yeah, cum on Daddy’s cock, I wanna feel you let go, wanna watch you come undone for Daddy” Eddie encouraged. Incoherent sounds of pleasure echoing came from you, echoing on the van walls bouncing into the night sky. After a few more thrusts, you came again, shuddering, drenching the crotch of Eddie’s pants and boxers. “Dadddyyy, I’m cumming” you whined, your legs going weak under you, causing you to fall forward, as your limbs gave way, chest now pressed down on the van floor.

Flipping you onto your back, Eddie entered you again, pushing your knees into your chest. Eddie looked down where you connected, eyes lighting up with hunger, throwing his head back, throaty moans echoing into the darkness. Eddie’s Large hands gripped your outer thighs for leverage, clenching fingers bruising your opulent doughy skin. Your legs wrapped round Eddie’s slim waist, ankles crossed, heels digging in his lower back, locking him in. Pushing him even further forward with every grunting thrust, deeper and deeper into your greedy cunt. “Fffffuuuuuuccccckkkkk” Eddie groaned, throwing his head forward, hair falling forward framing his pretty face. Your pulsating walls squelching devouring his throbbing cock.

Your eyes slammed shut as you tried to stay conscious as the intensity built again between your legs. Eddie’s cock and piercing caressing your g-spot on every impaling rut. Eddie’s thumb finding your painfully overstimulated clit. Relentlessly rubbing figures of eight into the sticky, warm flesh. “Open your eyes Princess, I wanna see your pretty face when you come undone on my cock” Eddie muttered between thrusts “best sound in the world, better than any symphony baby, better than Metallica, better than Dio, Even better than Sabbath. One day, I’m gonna record you and I’ma put it on a song and then the whole world can hear your beautiful sounds. Hear how needy you are for my cock, for your Daddy’s cock” Eddie mumbled to himself, pussy drunk.

“Uh-huh” is all you could manage in response as the coil tightened again, your walls clenching violently against Eddie’s unyielding cock. “Hold it for Daddy, I’m…real…close baby” Eddie panted out between breaths. Eddie’s thrust quickly became irregular and sloppy; you could tell he wasn’t lying. After a few more minutes, your walls were gripping him impossibly tight, choking Eddie’s cock from the inside. You could hardly hold it any longer, vision blacking out and body going numb, head swimming in euphoria.

You heard Eddie’s voice in your muggy mind. “Cum now Princess, cum for Daddy!” Letting all your stiffened muscles instantly relax, releasing all tension from your physique. You squirted, cum gushing out your soaked hole, dribbling down Eddie’s persistent spearing cock. Upon feeling your pulsating walls, rippling along the length of his cock, Eddie instantly came too. White washing your throbbing walls with his seed, your soft, warm, wet cunt milking every drop of cum out of his softening cock.

Falling forward into your chest, Eddie pulled himself out of your abused hole, causing you both to wince as the loss of contact. Dizzy love drunk smiles painted your faces. Eddie lay listening to the rhythmic beat of your heart in the comfortable silence, as you floated back to earth. “You okay there, Champ?” you chuckled as you ran your nails through Eddie’s hair, tenderly massaging his scalp with your nibble fingertips. Eddie nodded and turned to place his chin between your breasts, resting over your bunched up shirt. Breath still taken out of your lungs. High crashing and the cold air getting the better of you. You both slid back into the back of the van, Eddie closing the doors as he crawled in. Shuffling back he sat back against the seats, tucking himself back inside his damp boxers. Tapping his chest, inviting you in to cuddle, before passing you a t-shirt from the van to clean off with and a fresh bottle of water.

Wiping between your thighs you hissed from the sensitivity and joined Eddie at the back of the van. Taking a few big gulps of the refreshing water, you offered it to Eddie who did the same. Laying your head on Eddie’s chest you listened to his pounding heartbeat, decreasing in pace as he came down. A comfortable silence fell throughout the van, peaceful after the fucking you just had.

“I fucking love you Bunnie” broke the silence. You glanced up into Eddie adoring eyes, cheeks flushed with love. Smile from ear to ear. “I love you too, Eds” you smiled back. “No, I really love you, like really, really love you. You’re beautiful Bunnie, fucking beautiful in every way” Eddie said back. You kissed his lips again, this time endearingly. “You’re beautiful too, Eds, and I really, really, really love you too”.

“Tomorrow’s Saturday, right?” Eddie asked suddenly. “Yeah Ed’s” you said back confused at the strange timing of the question, “Good, I gotta get you a ring, I remember me saying something about making an honest woman outta ya, if I saw you in a cheerleading outfit…I guess Nevada isn’t that far of a drive for a weekend, right…?” he cackled obnoxiously loud. “Eddie, are you asking me to marry you?” you whispered back meekly, shyness creeping over your face. “Yeah…yeah I guess I am” Eddie smiled, placing a kiss on the crown of your head.

“Eddie, its fucking miles” you sighed smiling. “Get me a ring first and get down on one knee and we’ll talk.” Eddie beamed with joy, “You’re gonna make me the happiest man alive Princess, when you say Yes. You even gonna let me pump a few babies in ya? Let me watch you grow all big and swollen, carrying my hellspawn. You’ll look so fucking pretty. Have a few mini Munsons running around causing havoc”.

“Don’t be putting me down for six nuggets there, Harrington!” you chortled, love drunk on Eddie’s ambitions of your family together, “But sure I’d love that Munson. Me, you and some mini Munsons running around…But first let’s get back in there, I think you owe Vickie, Robin and Nancy a drink as a thank you. And I know Dustin is just dying to talk nerdy to you, compare D&D notes, he’s built a new character you know… something about a Paladin he said”. Eddie grinned as he pulled you tighter into a breathtaking hug, tucking you into his side. Resting his chin on your head ignoring the last part, “Wait! You mean Robin, Vickie & Nance were all in on this as well? You women are a devious breed” he chuckled “all plotting together against my demise!” And Dustin calls me weekly to discuss his latest campaign so I’m up to date with the D&D updates!”

Shifting in your seat you pull your shirt back down, push your tits in and bra back up, adjusting your costume to make yourself semi decent again (well as much you could be lacking your bottoms). “Plus you owe me a beer for wearing this” you counted back, laughing pointing down at your now dishevelled outfit. “What the wife wants, the wife gets!” Eddie shouted, stuffing himself back onto his pants and retying the leather thong, before butt shuffling to open the back doors. “Eddieeeee, can you grab me my shorts please, it’s fucking freezing out there!” you shouted after him, as you crawled towards the edge.

Eddie appeared moments later around the corner of the door, your tiny shorts dangling from his index finger. “Hand them over Munson!” you pleaded, as you sat on your knees, arms folded, hiking your breasts up under your chin, bottom lip sticking out like an upset toddler. “Come get ‘em” Eddie smirked cruelly, turning heel darting back inside. Eye rolling you scrambled to the back bumper exiting the van, slamming the doors shut.

A biting breeze brushed under your wickedly minuscule skirt, passed your soaked folds and moist, sticky thighs, causing you to shudder. You began to run, back to the door Eddie had left open in his haste earlier. The fabric kicked up with the movement of your soft thighs revealing all as you chased after Eddie, your panties now stuffed in his back pocket. “Give them back Edward Munson!” you bellowed, running through the door after him as he disappeared into the crowd. Gareth, Jeff and Kevin howling, sharing a knowing glance as they caught a glimpse of your ample buttocks, no panties in sight as you dashed past.

🖤❤️Thanks for reading! xoxo

Here’s a extra gift for you below cause you got to the end!

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nights-at-crystarium · 11 months

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Fragments - episodes 19-22 author notes

You can find similar breakdown posts on older episodes in my pinned!

Obligatory ShB spoiler warning.

First off, the two panels that took a silly amount of time just because I wanted to reflect Vivi’s impressions on the city.

Episodes 18, 19, 20 open up with Vivi being concerned with the most pressing matters:

Can’t fight if you ain’t pretty (or got just 1-2 outfits to be pretty in, that won’t do either)

I still really like the panel above, especially their pose. Episodes 19-22 show how they gradually get rid of physical boundaries. They didn’t even touch back when they first met (episode 15).

Vivi’s casual about physical affection with friends, just one of his core things.

Of course Vivi would trust and choose the company of a pixie, a supernatural being, over a (presumably) human who only reinforces Vivi’s worst opinions on humanity at that point in time, concealing himself and swimming in secrets. Get rekt nerd.

At least Vivi isn’t openly hostile, just.. Dismissive? I saw some other WoLs who outright hate Exarch for abducting the Scions and almost getting themselves, the WoL, killed at Ghimlyt Dark. Vivi, however, just wants to be left alone.

Tfw the love of your life is being stolen by your dear friend. Or vice versa? Or both at the same time? Anyway, Vivi and Feo Ul form a new cool kids' club and Exarch isn't invited.

Can't relax in your favorite secluded spot for a godsdamned moment without some pesky dragoon randomly popping out of nowhere.

While I hc Exarch being able to sense living presence around the Tower, imagine doing that 24/7 for every person. I like to think that he learned to filter it out, turn off/on at will. And while he's in a public place, with his glamour up, he doesn't need to upkeep the "radar", he's just chilling and is possibly lost in thoughts, and that's why Vivi startles him.

This scene bears more symbolic meaning than plot importance. And, uh, some foreshadowing? Forelighting? x'D While Vivi doesn’t fall (heh) for his savior, he’ll reflect upon this at a later time.

Vivi’s normally careful and stately. Yes he’s an elf but he do be carryin’ himself like a cat. There’s a lot of control and assertion behind his trademark nonchalant posture. So, NORMALLY, this wouldn’t happen. Maybe he got distracted by the shiny? And where’s Feo Ul?

Exarch, however, the man that chokes on air unprompted, in a moment like this acts before he could think. As some people correctly noted, the old man’s QUICK. The “screentime” stretches out as Vivi’s life almost begins flashing before his eyes, while for Exarch it's gotta be a mere second or two.

I’m extra proud of the colorwork here. As if blood’s gone from Vivi’s face, as if his entire body went cold, but life slowly returns to him, starting with that hand. You bet this’s brimming with subtext.

Exarch uses his left hand over the right, for better friction and probably because he doesn’t like the attention to his right hand.

I like that this panel’s caused confusion, it worked as intended :9 An all too vague dark joke that almost cost Vivi his life. In his head it went like “yeah anyone can fly once, when they’re about to go splat”, but he wasn’t only preoccupied with the jumps, but also didn’t KNOW yet that he HAS TO speak with a fae like almost with a child, or a lawyer. Simplest terms. No ambiguity. EVER. They’ll misinterpret you unwittingly, or on purpose.

And so they did. Or didn’t? Feo Ul’s spent a long time offscreen, but whether they chose not to help, or even gave Vivi a little push, will forever stay a mystery because why not.

Lesson learned.. On both sides.. Hopefully. Also, fret not, Exarch WILL say fuck one day, one day~

Vivi's lucky. Incredibly so. He's aware of it, doesn't see it as anything special, like you don't see anything special in being able to read this. Perhaps jumping up an unknown structure while being accompanied by an exceedingly curious and mischievous creature is risky even for his kind, but Vivi's so used to getting away with so many things that he doesn't stop to consider it for the tiniest moment.

The first genuine exchange of smiles.

Silver lining: now they have better chances at getting along and returning to that world-saving duty.

Update from January 2024: I came back here to tell you something that took me so long to realize about episode 20′s description:

And all he saw was the Light, and then he knew that Death wore white in this world.

I randomly popped off with this prose, which on itself is a cool thing, but now I realize the extra meanings it could take on. Thinking about 5.x and Elidibus has me feeling unwell in the best way. THAT VIVI ALSO WEARS WHITE HERE IS UH. A coincidence. But it also kinda works as the Warrior of Darkness becomes somewhat of a local Reaper in the First, and then, well, then we have that Light corruption arc :3c

Vivi's calm and tender enough for a pixie to trust him with their wings.

Feo Ul ate and drank several times their size, and all that hero talk.. Ugh. Time for a nap.

Drawing this made me yawn at least 3 times. You’re not immune either.

He’s activating his scanners :>

Vivi's definition of nice is "not nagging, begging or preaching, and using bare facts and logic to convince the hero to do the hero thing".

Literally the next page if you’re reading in order :’> Riiiiiiiiight. That hero thing.

We don’t question whether Vivi invited his loveliest branch, or if they invited themselves. The fact is, they’re there and Vivi’s totally cool with it.

Exarch must be watching. And probably foaming at mouth as Feo Ul keeps leading in the race for Vivi’s heart. They don’t only earn the hero’s trust, but get in his bed and, gasp, brush his hair.

Vivi's getting comfy in his role somewhere between a disney princess and Feo Ul’s pet.

A writing-related tangent incoming, but, since you’re here, I assume you’re already somewhat interested in this kinda stuff.

So, there’s the script, the plain text that waits to get illustrated. The screenplay, if you will. I don’t just sit down and draw enough random things to fill a few pages, I approach this as an actual cohesive serialized story.

I changed a good half of this episode when I began storyboarding it. In the initial script from some months ago, Vivi said "I slept so well". Something about this didn't sit right with me. It’s the most basic mistake of telling instead of showing. I asked myself, would he, a person who takes good sleep and dreams for granted, say that out loud? Nah. I removed that bit, and drew him stretching deliciously. He also asked Feo Ul if they guarded his dreams, they smiled vaguely but warmly just like in the finalized version, but then Vivi simply muttered "I could get used to this" and gave them headpats. I decided to elevate this scene by adding this tiny rollercoaster, which brought Feo Ul's greyness to the forefront, and thickly hinted that Vivi doesn't only sleep well, but has nice dreams that he probably starts cherishing after this.

To be fair, this isn’t super important for the main plot, I just wanted to highlight the difference between Vivi and Exarch, the latter being in a hate-hate relationship with sleep. Vivi’s affinity with dreams is a door I like to keep open for the possible future story (talking post-EW events).

Now you know this’s the face they make before going apeshit.

Imagine if this prank didn't exist and instead Vivi simply said "I slept so well, this's so important to me". I’m proud of the writing muscle I’m growing on the fly ;w;

Ardbert's chance to act and feel normal, thwarted in the next few seconds.

I'm so glad that people are picking up on this!! “Hey man” is Vivi’s way of providing whatever comfort he could. An illusion of normalcy. He’s emotionally intelligent when it matters.

..But he should’ve also considered that Feo Ul can and will ruin the vibe :’>

Another screenwriting thing: this episode lacks an establishing shot, i.e. the obligatory zoomed out view on everyone in the room, but I think this’s a rare case of “less is more”. Along with the light vs shadow, it reinforces the feeling of separation. Vivi and Feo Ul are shown together, interacting, doing cute stuff, while Ardbert’s alone. Sorry not sorry for the hurty :’>

This’s all I’ve got for now. Thanks for reading and paying so much attention! People start to notice and analyze the things I’m weaving in, and it’s the best kinda interaction I as a creator could wish for.

#shb spoilers #ffxiv #ffxiv: fragments #fragment ii: new world old friend #fragments talk

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rhoorl · 4 months

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Delta Landscaping | Chapter 13: Pike's Place

Series Summary: In this AU, the boys of Delta Force start a new business post-Colombia.

Series Masterlist | Chapter 13 A03 Link

Word Count: 6.6k

Previously on As the Mule Falls: The Miller brothers had a heart-to-heart. Tio Frankie left Dallas and made his way back to Tampa by way of Atlanta (and met someone on his flight). The Neighborhood Watch descended upon a skating rink for some Star Wars-themed birthday fun. Frankie had to leave a little early for…reasons.

In this Episode: Benny gets an earful from Cousin Joel. There’s a full house at the gym to help train Benny. The neighbors set up another party - cue a Neighborhood Watch group chat. The Pikes close on their house and move in. Obligatory corgi scene. Benny gets a bit flustered as we meet someone new.

Chapter Warnings: Marcus Pike comes with his own warnings - we get domestic!Marcus, dad!Marcus, wingman!Marcus, supportive brother-in-law!Marcus. (Can you tell I have a soft spot for him). Cousin Joel makes a cameo. A little flustered and shy Benny along with a distracted Fish. David being David. A few Spanish phrases are scattered throughout. While I try and keep all of the OCs somewhat neutral regarding physical descriptions (I’m still learning, so I’m not always good at this!), a new OFC will be described more specifically (especially in episodes to come). Two characters have V names. Marcus’ wife’s name is Victoria. Her sister’s name is Vanessa.

*Cue the theme music and roll opening credits*

Sunday

Will had just poured himself a cup of coffee when he heard a soft knock at the door. He wasn’t expecting anyone over so early. Benny was still sleeping and it was too early for Santiago and Frankie to show up. He thought maybe it was Lucille stopping by with some treats, so he padded over to the front door, pulling a T-shirt over his head on the way.

When he opened the door, he saw Olivia with Diana balancing on her hip as she held a couple of gift bags in her hand.

“Hi Will, sorry I didn’t interrupt anything did I?” She smiled, trying to be discreet as she looked past Will and into the house.

Will cleared his throat, “Ah, no…just me. Hey there, princess,” he brought his thumb up to rub Diana’s cheek, eliciting a little giggle from the toddler.

“Oh ok. Sorry, I don’t mean to disturb you. I kind of forget that other people aren’t up at like 5 in the morning every day like me,” she laughed softly. “Um, anyway, I meant to give you boys these,” she handed the bags to Will.

“You didn’t have to get us anything, Liv. Thank you,” Will smiled as he looked through the bag of Star Wars-themed party favors, including some Lego mini-figures, stickers, and candy.

“You’re welcome. Don’t tell David, but I snuck a little something extra into your bag,” she winked.

He tilted his head to the side and peeked back into the bag, pulling out a couple of Polaroids. One was a candid of the four guys, laughing and having a good time. A small smile came over Will’s face; it had been so long since the guys all looked so carefree. The second photo was of Will with his arm around Katie’s shoulder. He looked at her as she threw her head back in laughter at Benny who was mid-story.

“Thanks, Liv, this was nice of you to bring over.” He murmured as he looked at the photos, his eyes crinkling as his smile grew wider.

Olivia regarded him for a moment, wanting to say more but also didn’t want to pry. “Well, I’ll leave you. I have to go deliver a few more of these. Got any fun plans for today?”

“Nah, just hanging out probably. I don’t know how you do it, Liv. I’m worn out from yesterday. You’re a superhero,” he laughed.

“I have my days, don’t let the cuteness fool you,” she motioned down to Diana, who played with her pacifier. “Say hi to the boys for me.”

“You girls have fun delivering your goodie bags,” he winked at Diana.

As he walked back to the kitchen to microwave his now lukewarm coffee, he plopped the gift bags on the counter. He pulled out the two Polaroids, looking at them before grabbing a couple of magnets and placing them on the refrigerator.

Monday

“What do you mean you signed up for a fight?” Joel demanded, the tension in his voice palpable.

Benny winced, pulling the phone away from his ear before putting it back, “I…I just kind of did it on a whim,” he said weakly like a little kid being scolded. “Besides, it’s too late to get out of it now since we’re only a few weeks away.”

He paced around his kitchen, chewing his thumb as Joel continued to lay into him for making such a rash decision. After a while, Joel calmed down.

“Bean,” Joel sighed, “I wish you wouldn’t do this shit anymore, man.”

“Yeah. Sorry, I was just…mad and I wasn’t thinking and one thing led to another and I called Herb and here we are.”

Joel paused for a moment. “When’s the fight?”

“Middle of next month.”

“The actual date Bean, when is it?” Joel asked tersely.

“Um…I think…hold on lemme go to the calendar, Will wrote it down,” Benny trailed off as he walked toward the refrigerator and flipped the calendar to the following month. “Why?”

“If I can swing it I’ll come.”

Benny stopped, a big smile coming across his face. “Wait, really? Y-You don’t have to do that man.”

“I’m not making any promises, we got a shit ton of deadlines and I’m waitin' on these goddamn permits to go through.” Joel pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Oh ok, sure…no, I get it.” Benny replied flatly, he didn’t want to get too excited about the prospect of Joel visiting. He couldn’t remember the last time Joel went on a vacation so he was tempering his expectations.

Benny proceeded to throw out a bunch of dates, explaining his training schedule and what his plan was before Joel cut him off.

“Hey Bean - look I gotta go, I just got to the site. Send me a picture of the calendar so I can see all the shit you just spouted off. I’m not gonna remember everything you just said.”

“Yeah, you got it. Hold on…ok sending it right now. Hey J, no pressure or anything man, I know you have Sarah, but I’d really like it if you came.”

“I know Bean, I’ll try. Talk to you later, bud.”

Joel hung up the phone as a text message came through. He opened the photo and zoomed in, cursing the fact that part of him knew he needed to get glasses. Rather than look at the calendar, his eyes were drawn to a photo stuck to a magnet on the refrigerator. Pinching the photo to further inspect it, the shadow of a smile came across his face.

“Where’s Fish, I thought he was supposed to meet us here,” Will looked over at Santiago as he, Benny, and Connor got out of Will's Jeep and walked up to the gym.

Santiago shook his head and shrugged. “He’ll be here.”

“I thought he was usually done with his meetings by now, that’s why we picked this time. He’s good, right?” Will furrowed his brows.

“Yeah, isn’t it coming up on a year?” Benny followed up.

“Oh shit, you’re right,” Santiago brought his palm to his forehead. “Fuck…yeah it’s next week, we’ll have to figure out something to do for him. But no he’s all good. I promise I heard from him yesterday, briefly. Turns out that girl he met doesn’t live here. She was here for the weekend and flying back this morning.”

“So he’s going to be in a real great mood then huh,” Benny scoffed as he adjusted the strap of his gym bag on his shoulder.

“Don’t worry about him, he’ll be fine. He knows you need him. Plus, this will be a good distraction because otherwise, he’ll be in a pissy mood,” Will reassured his brother.

“Yeah and none of us want to be around a pissy Fish,�� Santiago smirked. “You ready to go bud?” Santiago looked over to Connor, grabbing his shoulder.

“Yeah, happy to help however I can.”

David: Goooood morning! Anyone down for a 4th of July pool party tomorrow?

Megan: You offering? Have you asked Ty already?

Ty: Yes. All good. Figured we could do something kind of small.

David: And we HAVE to invite the guys. It’s a pool party after all. Need to see some wet Frankie hair again 🫠

Olivia: 😂

Katie: OMG David.

David: Oh come on, like you’re one to talk. Will in trunks isn’t too bad either. Hell, all of them. Alexa: Add one of each to my cart.

Ty: After the twins’ party I think I’m now Team Santiago 😉

Melissa: I can bring food, just tell me what I should plan for.

David: Damn ok. Wasn’t quite ready for logistics yet…I was still thirsty buuuuut anyway. I’ll shoot you guys over my thoughts later. I need to sit with my mood board for a bit.

Megan: It’s a Fourth of July party - isn’t that enough of a mood?

Ty: you know who you’re talking to right? 🙄

Lucille: Count on me to make whatever you want.

David: Love you Lulu ♥️ Katie - you’re in charge of texting Will so he can tell the guys.

Olivia: Why don’t we just add them to the group chat?

David: ARE YOU CRAZY?! This is my safe space.

Marcus was beaming as he bounced Mariella on his lap and watched Victoria sign the last in the giant stack of papers.

“Well, Victoria….Marcus, congratulations, you’re the proud owners of 306 Mule Fall Court,” Ethan smiled as he got up and shook hands with the couple, giving Nicolas a high five. “

Once Ethan handed over the keys, the family posed for a quick photo for his Instagram and then made their way to their SUV. Marcus unlocked the doors as Nicolas hopped in, grabbing his tablet so he could go back to playing his game. Meanwhile, Victoria worked on buckling Mariella into her car seat. She handed the toddler her milk bottle and closed the door, surprised Marcus was right behind her.

“Baby, you can’t sneak up on me like that,” she smiled as Marcus cupped her cheek and leaned in for a kiss.

“Congratulations Mrs. Pike, you finally have your dream house,” he smiled against her lips, his thumb rubbing her cheek.

“Hmm..well, Special Agent Pike,” she wrapped her arms around Marcus’ neck. “Our first night in the house is going to be a little bit different than our first place, huh?” She winked.

Marcus chuckled, reminiscing about their first apartment together and the rather eventful night they had christening their first shared space. “Vanessa can’t get here soon enough so she can watch the kids, I need to take you out on a date. Speaking of, when is she getting in?”

“She texted she’s only a few hours away. Hey tomorrow, I figured we could maybe do a barbecue or something since we won’t have much of the kitchen stuff unpacked.” The corners of her mouth curled up as Marcus rolled his eyes and shook his head.

“I guess that means getting the barbecue set up is among my first orders of business today then, huh?”

“Yes, and our bed,” she winked and then froze as she realized where she was. “The kids…fuck…the kids…it’s so hot Marcus, get in and blast the AC,” she abruptly turned around and opened the door as Marcus ran to the other side of the SUV to turn it on.

Katie was walking back to her office with her second coffee of the day. She figured now was as good a time as any to text Will and see if he and the guys wanted to go to David and Ty’s party.

Katie: Hey! You boys have plans for the 4th?

Will: No, not really.

Katie: No?! Figured it was a big day for you all.

Will: It’s a complicated day.

Katie furrowed her brows at Will’s responses. He was normally curt, but he seemed especially abrupt.

Katie: Oh ok. Well, David is having people over and you guys were my responsibility on the phone tree to invite.

Will: Nice, ok yeah. I’ll check with the guys in a bit and get back to you? We’re at the gym.

She breathed a bit of a sigh of relief but chastised herself for not stopping to think that he may actually be busy.

Katie: Yeah sounds good.

Will: Get back to work Kat 😉

Frankie rolled into the gym about an hour late, having missed all of the cardio and weights.

“There he is!” Santiago clapped his hands as Frankie walked towards the ring. He came in for handshakes and hugs with all of the guys, including Connor.

“You good Fish?” Benny cocked his head to the side, taking in how Frankie’s smile didn’t reach his eyes.

Frankie cleared his throat, pulling his hat off and running his hair through his curls. “Yeah man, I’m good. Are you?”

“He’s better now that you’re here, Fish,” Will clapped his brother on the shoulder. “Now the fun begins!”

“Yeah, let’s do it,” Frankie went to put on some sparring gloves, not seeing the looks all of the guys exchanged. They were all walking a bit on eggshells trying to gauge Frankie’s mood.

It turned out that sparring with Benny was exactly what Frankie needed; he was able to get out some of his frustration while giving Benny a worthy opponent.

“C’mon Ben, you have to try and dodge me. The guy is going to be walking all over you if you don’t pick up your feet,” Frankie panted as he ducked around Benny’s punches.

“Atta boy Benny, show that old man what’s up!” Santiago yelled with a cupped hand around his mouth.

“Fuck off Pope, I want to see your ass in here,” Frankie muttered, rolling his eyes.

“Can’t, doctor’s orders,” he called back, looking over to Connor with a wink. “Couple of neck surgeries and shit knees,” he tilted his head forward, showing off his scar.

“Aka he’s old,” Will smirked as Connor stifled a snort.

Meanwhile, Benny locked in a decent combination, pinning Frankie to the ropes as he tapped out.

“Good, Ben. Wanna take a break?” Franke huffed.

Benny nodded and he and Frankie took off their gloves, sitting on the side of the ring as the other guys brought them water.

“Oh, since we’re all here,” Will started, “Katie said there was some Fourth of July party tomorrow. We’re all invited.”

Benny, Frankie, and Santiago looked between each other and then back to Will.

“D-do you guys not celebrate the Fourth?” Connor asked.

“It’s…” Benny started.

“Complicated,” Santiago finished as Frankie pointed towards him in agreement.

“Oh, so you guys don’t want like … a lot of attention or whatever?” Connor looked between the four men. “If it makes you feel any better, it’s really more of a pool party than anything else. Ever since that one year, Ty won’t let David shoot off fireworks,” he chuckled to himself.

“Are there…uh…other people who set off fireworks in the neighborhood?” Will crossed his arms in front of him as Benny side-eyed him.

‘Uh, yeah. I think Aria’s neighbors are the ones who do it now…but they live a few streets over.”

“But it’s still probably loud huh?” Frankie mirrored Will’s body language as he looked over at his friend.

Connor straightened up, sensing the tension coming off from the guys, especially Will. He was unsure what to say, not wanting to upset them.

“Ironhead isn’t one for loud noises, hell, none of us are any more,” Santiago spoke up, seeing Connor slightly relax.

“Oh, I hear ya. Ms. Olivia always gets mad because the twins get woken up….I dunno my mom and her always end up talking about it and reading what people are saying on Facebook,” he laughed. “I can ask Mom if she knows if anyone’s going to do fireworks. That way you guys know?”

“That’s nice of you man,” Benny brought the boy in for a half hug. “We may decide to leave a little early but I think we’re all down for a pool party aren’t we boys?” He looked around and saw them all reluctantly nod. “Well that settles it,” he smiled.

“Alright Ben, let’s get back to it, you’re not done,” Frankie slapped Benny across the chest and then motioned toward the weights.

As Benny, Will and Connor made their way over, Santiago quietly pulled Frankie to the side. “Everything good hermano?”

“I’m ok,” Frankie muttered as he took the tape off his hands.

“You gonna see your girl again? Or was it just a weekend thing?” He brief smirk quickly replaced by a look of concern. “Sorry, Fish.”

Frankie sighed, “All good man. I’m going to see her again…at least I hope I can see her again. We uh…didn’t really talk a lot about it,” he let out a soft chuckle, rustling with the back of his hair where it poked out from his cap.

“Ah mano, I’m sure you didn’t,” Santiago winked, eliciting a reluctant smile from Frankie. “You don’t have to tell me all about it now. But seriously, how long’s it been? I figured after finally getting some you’d be less of a dick.” He dodged a playful punch from Frankie, who got him into a headlock.

“Nico, can you help me with that box?” Marcus pointed to the trunk of his SUV as his son eagerly nodded.

“Dada, I big helper too,” Mariella waddled over making grabby hands up at Marcus’ knees for him to pick her up.

“Ah muñeca, yes, you are a big helper too, here,” he handed the little girl an empty plastic bag which she happily took as she trotted up the driveway to her mother.

“Mama I’m a big helper!”

“Wow! Look at that!” Victoria smiled as the family worked on emptying the SUV with their first round of belongings. “Babe, when’s the moving truck getting here?”

“Should be any minute now,” Marcus checked his phone.

“Doggie!!” Mariella yelled as she started running down the driveway, with Nico on her heels.

“Hey, hey, be careful,” Marcus chased after them, scooping his daughter up and redirecting Nico away from the sidewalk as a woman and her corgi approached. “Sorry about that! They both love animals,” he called over.

“Oh, it’s ok! He’s friendly if they want to say hi,” she smiled, motioning down to her dog.

Marcus walked down the driveway with Mariella on his hip and Nico holding his hand.

“This is Bucky, say hi Bucky,” she looked down at the dog who excitedly looked between all of the new people. “I’m Megan by the way….I live a few doors down, the one with the basketball hoop,” she motioned over her shoulder.

“I’m Marcus,” he reached out to shake her hand. “This is Mariella and Nico…my wife Victoria,” he nodded behind him as Victoria made her way down the driveway.

“Hi! Are you one of our neighbors?” Victoria asked with a warm smile.

“Yeah, I’m kind of the unofficial welcome wagon,” Megan chuckled as Bucky looked up at her and whined. “You too buddy, you’re part of the committee too,” she winked at the couple. “Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt you all if you’re moving in. I’m sure you have your hands full.”

“Oh it’s ok, we’re waiting on the moving truck, and then my sister,” Victoria said as she reached down to pet Bucky, who rolled over on his back as the kids giggled.

“He hates attention as you can tell,” Megan laughed. “Hey, I know it’s probably a lot and you may already have plans, but we’re having a Fourth of July barbecue tomorrow if you all want to come. All the neighbors will be there. We just had some guys move in a few weeks ago, they’ll love to no longer be the new kids on the block,” she winked.

“That’s so nice of you, thank you,” Victoria smiled.

“Yeah, here let me get your number,” Megan pulled out her phone and handed it to Victoria who eagerly entered her contact information.

“Hey, I'm thinking we can get started on Melissa and Danny's backyard the day after tomorrow. I wanted to swing by Home Depot, get a few things, and drop it off so we can just get started right away on Wednesday. Anyone wanna come with?” Santiago asked the group as they were walking out. Frankie was busy checking his phone and not paying attention.

“I, uh, I should get home. I told Lulu I'd help her with some stuff … I'm getting lunch out of it,” Connor chuckled.

“Damn, don't go eating all of the empanadas, she said she'd save some for me. And she probably made something special for you now that you’re back, Fish,” Benny laughed, his face scrunching up when Frankie ignored him. “Fish?”

Frankie looked up from his phone, “Hmm? Oh … ah yeah…sure,” he gave a tight smile.

Will furrowed his brows, looking away from Frankie and focusing his attention on Connor. “How about I drive you home and these three can head to Home Depot? It'll be easier probably with your truck Fish.”

“Hmm, sure yeah that's fine.” Frankie’s lips twitched as he checked his phone again.

“Okay,” Santiago cut in, trying to cover for the fact that Frankie was clearly distracted and had his mind elsewhere. “That settles it, see you back at the house Will.”

“Babe, I think Santi and the boys are going to drop off some stuff … you going to be around?” Melissa walked into the living room, putting on her earrings as Danny played a video game.

“Uh ok, cool,” he paused the game. “You not gonna be here?”

“No, I…uh…I have to go grocery shopping for tomorrow. I told David I’d bring something.”

“Ooo nice, what did you decide on?”

“Ah, I don’t know yet. I figured I’d go to the store and see what speaks to me.”

“Any instructions I need to know for the guys?”

“Nope, they should be outta here before you know it,” she walked over to the kitchen counter to grab her crossbody and keys. “I’ll be back, love you!”

“Ok. Hold tight, let me go check and see where she wants the stuff,” Santiago instructed as he jumped out of Frankie’s truck and bounded up the driveway.

“Looks like the neighbors are finally moving in,” Benny observed, looking at the passenger side window.

He recognized the family from the other day. The husband held onto a little girl while a little boy played with a plastic golf club set. He spotted the wife coming out of the house with one of the movers.

“Yeah, that moved pretty fast, huh?” Frankie responded absentmindedly as he tapped on his phone.

“Fish, look, I don’t wanna pry or anything….but is everything ok? I've never seen you on your phone this much and it’s kinda weirding me out,” he laughed.

Frankie put his phone in his lap and took a deep breath. “I ah…I kinda met somebody,” Frankie looked up sheepishly.

“Well, that’s obvious Fish,” Benny smirked.

“It’s moving kinda fast,” Frankie twirled the curls sticking out of the back of his hat.

“It’s ok, fast can be good…well…not in some cases, but you know what I mean,” Benny snorted as Frankie groaned.

Santiago tapped on the passenger side window, motioning to Benny to roll it down. “We just missed Melissa apparently, but Danny’s gonna open the gate to the backyard and we can just set everything back out by the shed. We’ll figure it out later.”

“Sweet. Let’s get to work, I wanna get home and take a shower” Benny clapped his hands, getting out of the car and waving to Danny. “Hey, man!”

“What’s going on guys? Lemme go open the gate real quick and I can come help!” Danny held up a key as he walked to the side of the house.

“All good man, take your time,” Santiago shouted back as he unlocked the bed of Frankie’s truck.

The guys started unloading a few things and followed Danny into the backyard, missing the arrival of another black SUV at 306 Mulefall Court.

“Tia Nessa!! Papa! Tia Nessa is here!” Nicolas’ face lit up as he saw his Tia Vanessa park and get out of her car. She placed her sunglasses on her head and opened her arms up for a hug.

“Oye mi corazón!” Vanessa knelt on the ground, bringing her nephew in for a tight hug. “Ah, I missed you. Everything going ok? You helping your mama y papa?”

“Si, Tia Nessa, I’m helping,” he smiled back, “I’m really strong…look,” he flexed.

“Ay dios mio, wow!” She laughed before turning her attention to her little niece. “Oh! Look at you walking mi chiquitita!” she clapped her hands as Mariella made her way over. She picked the little girl up and twirled her around.

“Hey Vandy,” Marcus greeted her with a warm smile followed by a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Thanks, Buck, happy to be here,” she smiled, rubbing his arm with a tight smile. Even before he was “officially” her brother by marriage, Vanessa always had a soft spot for Marcus, the two sharing a sweet, unspoken bond.

“I like your hair…in the light it looks…purple?” He reached towards the end of the hair sticking out of her claw clip.

“Thanks, had a bit of a crisis so I dyed it,” she chuckled. “Look at yours! I don’t think I’ve seen your hair this long in a while! And with this scruff?! Vic must be losing her mind,” she winked.

“Ha,” a slight flush washed over his face as he cleared his throat. “I’m gonna need you to take care of this before I go back to work on Wednesday,” he said as his hand ruffled through his curls.

“Please don’t cut it too short,” Victoria walked up with a pout before embracing her little sister with a tight hug and a huge smile plastered across her face.

“We won’t go as short as normal, right Buck?” Vanessa winked. “Just shape it up a bit.”

“Ah, I am so excited you’re here!” Victoria squeaked. She was about to bombard her sister with questions about the drive and what she packed, but she got distracted by some movement in the yard next door. “Oh, hi!” She waved at the group of men making their way towards a green pickup truck in the neighbor’s driveway.

Vanessa followed her sister’s gaze, checking out the group. She took a particular interest in the taller man in the bunch. He had a black backward baseball cap on and a T-shirt that fit snugly around his biceps. Their eyes locked briefly and she sucked in a breath as he gave her a lopsided smile. She then noticed his soft, kind eyes that were the prettiest shade of blue. She heard one of the other guys exchanging pleasantries with Marcus, who had walked over to greet the group.

“Damn, I didn’t realize the landscapers were gonna be so hot,” Vanessa whispered to her sister with a smirk. “You have any projects planned?”

“They aren’t landscapers,” Victoria laughed and pulled her sister close as she gave her the rundown of the men. “And the one in the black hat? That’s Benny. He lives a few houses down with his brother...who I don't see.” She side-eyed her sister, who was absentmindedly biting her lower lip as she watched Benny and the rest of the guys chat with Marcus. “Want me to go introduce you?” she waggled her eyebrows, playfully bumping Vanessa in the shoulder.

“No, Vic. Don’t make it weird,” she turned to face her sister. “We have unpacking to do and I am desperate for you to show me around this beautiful house!”

“I’m sure he’ll be more than happy to help you unpack a box or two,” Victoria smirked.

Vanessa rolled her eyes and knelt to get to eye level with her nephew, “Nico, you wanna help me get some stuff out of my car and then show me your room?”

“Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!” Nicolas jumped up and down, running over to Vanessa’s SUV as Marcus walked back over to his lawn.

“That must be the sister,” Santiago motioned over with his eyes as the guys grabbed another load from the back of the truck.

Frankie noticed Benny try and steal glances behind him. “She’s pretty,” Frankie commented, looking Benny up and down trying to gauge a reaction.

Benny nodded and cleared his throat before hopping up onto the bed of the truck to continue unloading. His eyes looked past Frankie, finding hers once again from a distance. It had been so long since he’d approached a woman and he felt uncharacteristically nervous. He shook his head to collect himself before jumping down from Frankie’s truck to help Santiago carry a bag of soil.

As they walked up the driveway, his eyes quickly cut over just in time to see her leaning into the backseat of her SUV to grab something. She was wearing workout pants and an oversized T-shirt and her hair was casually up in a clip. Benny’s eyes trailed down her body, lingering for a moment on her ass as she bent down. He felt his pulse quicken a little bit, a thrill he hadn’t experienced in a while.

“You into girls with dark hair now?” Santiago chimed in, pulling Benny’s attention.

“What?” Benny cleared his throat, his brows furrowed as he regarded a smug Santiago.

“Just an observation. She’s not your usual type.” He used his lips to point back towards the driveway next door.

“What? I…uh…” Benny tried to play it off with a laugh, but Santiago exchanged a knowing look with Frankie.

“Psst, ven aquí,” Victoria whispered to her sister as her husband and son went upstairs to drop off some of the bags from Vanessa’s car.

“What’s up?”

“He’s hot, right?” Victoria asked with a smirk.

Vanessa furrowed her brows, “who?”

“Benny, silly. C’mon, you have to admit he’s like super hot, right?”

“I didn’t realize you were looking, hermana. I figured out of all of them you’d be most interested in the curly-haired one in the hat who kinda looks like Marcus ow-!” Vanessa laughed as her sister playfully slapped her arm.

“You know what I meant tonta.”

“Don’t give me that look,” Vanessa narrowed her eyes.

“I’m not giving you a look. I’m just surprised. He’s not your usual type is all.”

“Who’s not who’s type?” Marcus asked as he came around the corner.

“Nothing. It’s nothing. C’mon, there’s still a bunch of stuff in the trunk,” Vanessa turned on her heels as Marcus winked at his wife.

“Meddling already and I just got here,” Vanessa muttered to herself as she walked back outside to her car, stepping over some of the toys scattered on the front lawn. When she reached her car, she took a deep breath and collected herself as she waited for her trunk to open.

Moving in with her sister and brother-in-law wasn’t something she had on her mid-30s bingo card, but here she was. She was grateful to them for their generosity, even though it still made her feel inadequate and a bit like a charity case. For the past six months, she felt like she was floundering and was hopeful a change of scenery could give her the reset she so desperately wanted.

She stacked a couple of boxes, struggling a bit to carry them but she was determined to not drop them – especially since she didn’t want to embarrass herself in front of the guys next door. Her mind was elsewhere as she walked up the driveway, cutting up into the lawn as her foot caught something. Then, everything felt like it was happening in slow motion.

“You gonna keep staring or are you gonna go and say hi?” Santiago peered over to Benny as he watched the woman walk back to her car. “She’s clearly going to be a neighbor, welcome her to the neighborhood,” he waggled his eyebrows as Benny shook his head and averted his eyes.

“Nervous to go talk to a girl? This is unlike you Benjamin,” Frankie smirked as Santiago snorted.

“Ha ha very funny,” Benny rolled his eyes, taking a deep breath and looking as she struggled with a couple of boxes she had stacked on top of each other.

His hands twitched, wanting to run over there and help her, but he also didn’t want to offend. Thanks to his ex, he second-guessed everything. Benny’s eyes again raked down her body as she walked with the boxes stacked high; he smiled to himself to see her determination. And then, it felt like everything stopped and happened in slow motion.

She didn’t notice the golf club lying haphazardly in her path. Her shoe caught it and Benny instinctively took off in her direction, knowing he was too far to do anything. She stumbled, unable to recover her footing, and fell forward as the boxes tumbled, scattering their contents onto the lawn.

“Vandy!” Marcus shouted as he ran out the front door.

“Fuck,” she muttered to herself as she got to her hands and knees, hoping that no one else saw her fall. Then she heard a couple of heavy footsteps running up the driveway.

“Are you ok?” She heard an unfamiliar deep voice, noticing the Southern drawl.

She turned her head to see the man with the black cap towering over her. His eyebrows were knitted with concern as he bent down, offering his hand so she could stand up.

“Uh, y-yeah,” she gave a weak smile, mesmerized that his eyes were even more beautiful up close than they were from a distance. When he smiled at her, she felt her knees go weak, it was a miracle she was able to stand. “I…um…I’m usually not so clumsy,” she laughed nervously pausing when she looked down to see he was still holding her hand.

“Vandy, are you alright?” Marcus ran up in a huff and brought his hands to her shoulders to steady her.

Benny dropped her hand and ran it down his mouth and across his jaw, finally resting it on his neck as he watched.

“Yeah, I’m ok, just startled me more than anything,” she reassured her brother-in-law.

“Sorry, Nico had stuff everywhere, I should have had him put it all away…”

“Buck, it’s ok. I’m ok,” she smiled.

“Here, let me help y’all pick this stuff up,” Benny cut in, realizing he was just awkwardly standing there. He bent down to start collecting the items which consisted of a lot of knick knacks.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” Vanessa crouched down, embarrassed that the man is getting to see her Funko pop collection scattered across the lawn. But he was working so quickly to help that it brought a smile to her face.

Marcus observed this encounter with a smirk. It had been so long since he’d seen her smile like that and he was amused, even though he knew Victoria would chastise him for gawking.

“Here, I can take this in for you,” Benny smiled as he picked up one of the newly repacked boxes

“Uh, t-thank you…”

“Benny. I’m Benny,” he smiled and Vanessa felt the butterflies erupting in her stomach.

“Vanessa.” Her eyes locked on his and she thought she saw the faintest blush coming across his face.

“Benny lives down the street Vandy, with his brother Will,” Marcus chimed in.

“Oh, nice,” she smiled tightly, hoping that Marcus wouldn’t make it awkward but she saw that glimmer in his eye. Bless him, he tried over the years to set her up with friends but it never quite worked out.

Benny cleared his throat, “Yeah, we’re just down that way,” he motioned down the street with his chin.

Benny and Vanessa stayed looking at each other like time stood still. Neither was sure when they last took a breath.

Marcus, meanwhile, happily played the bystander watching the back and forth like it was a tennis match. When he realized neither of them was going to say anything, he cleared his throat. “So, Vandy you gonna keep us standing here holding your stuff or are we heading in,” he smirked.

“Shit, yeah, sorry. Ah, here I can take that.” She motioned to the box but Benny pulled it back.

“Nuh uh, I”ll take it. Lead the way boss lady,” Benny winked letting her walk in front. He couldn’t help how his eyes swept down her body and as he was admiring her ass his view was blocked by Marcus who stepped in front of him with a smile. Benny cleared his throat and got in line behind him.

“I was wondering where you all we-,” Victoria’s eyes widened as she saw her sister and husband walk back into the house followed by Benny. She crossed her arms and rested her weight on one foot, ‘Wow Benny, you’re just a jack of all trades aren’t you,” she winked as Benny laughed.

“Here Benny, it’s up this way,” Marcus nodded for Benny to follow him upstairs.

Vanessa winced as she rubbed her knee, thankful she fell on grass and not the pavement. “You fell? Are you ok? Let me grab my kit real quick…” Victoria trailed off.

“Calm down Nightengale, I just tripped on the lawn,” Vanessa rolled her eyes, straightening up when her sister gave her that look. “Ok, I fell. But it’s not a big deal. I’m more embarrassed than anything.”

“So you pulled the whole damsel in distress thing to get Benny to come over, huh?” She waggled her eyebrows.

“You and I both know I’m not coordinated enough to pull that off…clearly,” Vanessa chuckled.

Just then the sisters heard some laughter coming from the staircase as Marcus and Benny walked down the steps.

“Got another load or two maybe, you good to help?” Marcus looked over his shoulder.

“Oh you really don’t have to do that,” Vanessa started to follow before Victoria grabbed her by the arm.

“Can you stop? Let him help you.”

“I can do it myself,” Vanessa huffed.

“I know you can, but accept the help sometimes,” the deeper meaning behind the words was not lost on either sister.

A few moments later, there was laughter and commotion at the door as Marcus came back through with Benny and some additional helpers.

“Got the whole thing unpacked, Vandy. Look at how fast that was thanks to our neighbors,” Marcus winked as he made his way up the stairs. Benny was right behind and gave her a shy smile as he walked by.

A good looking shorter man with curly hair was next. He had an air of confidence and seemed like the kind of guy who would coax you into bad decisions. “Hi, I’m Santi…that’s Frankie,” he nodded behind him. The man with the baseball cap smiled as he followed the group upstairs.

When they were alone, Victoria snorted, trying to contain her laughter.

“Stop it,” Vanessa rolled her eyes.

“Ok ok, I won’t say anything,” Victoria smirked. “But, how are you thinking of repaying him for his kindness ow-” she ducked as Vanessa threw a cleaning rag her way with a laugh.

“Uh oh, that can only mean trouble,” Marcus called down as heavy footsteps made their way down the stairs. “Can’t leave those two alone,” he winked at Benny.

“This is a beautiful house,” Santiago remarked, taking a look around.

“Thanks, I’m excited to make it ours,” Victoria walked over to Marcus, wrapping her arm around his waist and looking up at him like he personally hung the moon in the sky.

Santiago looked at Benny, who readjusted his hat, looking down at the ground nervously. “You all coming to the party tomorrow?”

Vanessa looked at her sister and brother-in-law with a confused look. “You guys have been here a couple of hours and are already getting invited to parties. Wow, that’s a record,” she smirked.

Benny snorted, his eyes meeting hers.

Victoria ignored her sister’s quip and looked at Santiago, “We’ll all be there. Will you?”

“Yup, we’ll be there, won’t we Benny?”

Benny cleared his throat, “Ah y-yeah, should be fun!”

“It’s a…um…pool party,” Frankie offered, gesturing towards Nicolas who had just walked into the kitchen with his little sister holding his hand.

“Pool party?! Yeaaahh!” The little boy cheered as everyone laughed.

“Well, we look forward to it. Should be a grand ol’ time,” Marcus smirked.

Next Time on As the Mule Falls: We are headed to another neighborhood party - when you have David as your defacto neighborhood social director, expect lots of fun. The boys have some complicated feelings about being the center of attention because of the holiday. Prepare for some Will angst, some Pike smut, and more cuteness with Benny and Vanessa.

A/N: We’ve got a lot of storylines cooking now! In case you missed it, I made a Delta Landscaping Bingo card to keep track of all of the PPCU character references. Based on the plans I have for this series so far, you can make a “bingo” three ways. Not to add additional reading, but my little Frankie series Turbulence gives a bit more insight into what he was up to over the weekend. There is a part 4 coming out soon and after that the story will be weaved into DL. I’ve got a few other surprises up my sleeve 😉

Thank you so much for reading and supporting this story.

I forgot to post a chapter mood board earlier this week, so here it is...

Taglist: @goodwithcheese / @gemmahale / @trulybetty / @noxturnalpascal / @periodtsparadox / @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin / @maggiemayhemnj / @mysterious-moonstruck-musings / @avastrasposts / @meveispunk / @chaoticfestninja / @beboldbebravethings / @casa-boiardi / @katw474 / @linzels-blog / @laughing-in-th3-purple-rain / @pimosworld / @lynnchun / @anoverwhelmingdin /@lilmizmoz / @pedrit0-pascalit0 / @titlee78 / @noisynightmarepoetry / @inept-the-magnificent / @perennialdoll247 / @for-a-longlongtime / @readingiskeepingmegoing / @harriedandharrassed / @musings-of-a-rose / @anavatazes / @sherala007 / @midnightraain / @partyofone3413 / @inthedarkestnight / @millennial-teenybopper / @csarab615 / @darkheartgatita / @southernbe / @weho2kcmo / @itspdameronthings

#triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier fic #benny miller fanfiction #marcus pike #cousin joel #delta landscaping

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3-2-whump · 4 months

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Updated Intro Now That I Kinda Get How This Works:

Hello! It's 32W. I’ve been a long time lurker who finally wants to be part of this community! I’ve been into whump pretty much forever (since my formative years in the single digits), but Iv’e been reading, writing, and drawing whump on and off for the last 15 years. I can’t imagine getting to the point of feeling confident enough to post my own work, but who knows? My partner is probably getting tired of hearing how I want to torment my OC’s, so that is another motivation to start this side blog! For now though it’s probably gonna be very reblog-heavy.

Obligatory warning: minors DNI. Please. There’s gonna be nasty stuff on this blog probably.

Likes and Interests

Slavery whump

Captivity whump

Pet whump (not exactly BBU, but BBU’s not bad)

Noncon/NSFW -will tag!

Noncon body mod -e.g., branding, tattooing, piercing

Kidnapping

Bondage

Caretaking

Communication barrier (language barrier, nonverbal whumpee, etc.)

G/t dynamics -relatively new interest but I like it

Squicks (that how you say it? Things I don’t like)

Medical/lab whump

Gore -experimenting with mild gore, but I cannot handle a lot right now

Most hero/villain tropes -no shade, I’m just not into it

Supernatural whump -by this I mean magic and stuff. Again, nothing bad about it, just not really into it

Sickfics

I have a Masterlist now

Special thanks goes out to @burnticedlatte @demondamage @whumperofworlds @poc-whump and other blogs and the people behind them who inspired/encouraged the making of this blog. You guys are awesome ❤️

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busybecomingbones · 1 year

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softie (cod mwii)

A/N: this was supposed to be something stupid so I could get into the groove of writing again but for some reason half way through I decided it would be a good idea to start like five other wips so this is coming out way later than I wanted

w.c: 1.6k

summary: obligatory cat fic I write for every new fandom

warnings: probably some swearing lmao, also my indecisive ass didn't know if this should be a ship fic or platonic so I tried hinting at ghost x reader but didn't commit

“This is the safe house?”

Your tone is incredulous as you take in the house- no you think shack is a better word for it- in all its glory. The building is in the middle of nowhere, some abandoned acre of field, deep in the Russian countryside, and you’re surprised it hadn’t collapsed in on itself yet. Each plank of wood siding is a deep brown color that makes you think that all of them are definitely rotten, a few of the windows are broken in, and some of the roofing is no longer on the roof but is instead hanging off the clearly handmade gutters.

Someone shoves past you and makes for the door. “It’ll have to do.” Ghost’s voice is gruff as he twists the doorknob and walks inside. He clears the entrance and signals for you and Soap to follow. You both pull out your guns from their holsters and trail after Ghost as he goes further into the house. As you all split up to clear different rooms, you let yourself feel a little relief since the interior isn’t half as bad as the outside. It’s dusty and cluttered, but you aren’t worried the floor is going to be falling from beneath you.

It doesn't take long to clear the entire building. It’s small, one story with a wine cellar outside by the backdoor. You meet up with Soap and Ghost in the cramped living room. They come in together through an entrance in the front of the room while you enter through a small doorway on the side. Noticing the way Soap is beelining for the tiny, green corduroy couch, you vault over the arm and stretch your body across its entirety before he has the chance to claim a seat. The cushions smell somewhat of mildew yet you can’t find it in you to care. Its the most comfortable thing you’ve lain on in the past month.

Soap immediately starts grumbling but switches course to the sunken-in recliner residing in the corner but not before muttering, ‘Fuckin’ roaster’ and settling into its beige seat. Naturally, Ghosts takes posts near the main doorway to the living room, where you assume he has a view of the front entryway.

With the threat of Soap gone, you attempt to get comfortable. You roll onto your back and try to ignore the way the lumps and attachments on your tac vest dig into you. Despite the discomfort, your body seems to sag in relief as you finally allow the tension to leave your muscles. The mission had been kicking your ass from the get-go and you were going to savor every moment of peace you could get your hands on. As you feel your eyelids start to get heavy, you force yourself to move your head until you face Ghost. To your surprise, he’s already looking at you. If he’s in any way affected by you catching him he doesn’t show it.

“How long are we gonna be here?”

He breaks eye contact to glance out of the nearest window, there's a round hole in one of the panes from what you assume was a stone being thrown through it. Like always, his voice is gruff as he responds, “Until Bravo Team RVs here.”

“So you don’t know.”

“No.” He huffs. “I don’t know.”

You only yawn in response. There's a few minutes of silence that follow, the only noise being the tinny sounds of metal hitting metal as Soap disassembles his handgun and cleans it. The quiet is broken when a dull thump sounds from the kitchen. It’s so soft that if you didn’t have years of experience being constantly on edge with your eyes and ears peeled, you never would have noticed. You’re not the only one who heard it either. Ghost’s posture stiffened and Soap halted his movements. There’s a pregnant pause before there’s another soft thump. This time you all spring into action. Ghost moves first, bringing his gun up and disappearing down the hall towards the kitchen, you’re quick to follow with Soap on your heels. However, you aren’t able to get very far because the doorway into the kitchen is blocked by Ghost’s hulking frame.

“Ghost, what the fuck is it?” You hiss.

His responce is a little irked. “There’s a buncha fuckin’ cats in here.”

You and Soap are completely in sync as you lower your weapons and spit out a sharp, “What?”

Ghost simply moves further into the tiny kitchen and slides to the right so you can get a better look. Sitting on the white countertop are four kittens that couldn’t be more than a month or two old and on the floor, what you assume, are their mama and another kitten. The two thumps you’d heard were probably from them jumping from the counter to the ground. The mom wasn’t very old either, scrawny but not mangy. Naturally, she seemed apprehensive of the three of you, her ears pulled back and tail puffed up slightly but she didn’t seem aggressive. Of course, that could change the minute any of you got closer to one of her babies.

“There's so many.” Fighting the urge to walk right up and scoop each and every little ball of fur into your arms is almost physically impossible.

There’s a soft hmph from beside you as Soap puts his knife away, “How’d they get in?” He moves into the kitchen to stand beside Ghost. You don’t miss the careful way he walks, his steps are a little gentler than his normal stomping gait like he’s trying not to frighten the cats.

Ghost nods his head towards a paneless window directly above the sink, “There. Reckon we can scare them off and board it up.”

You scoff. “Why scare them off?” In the time you’d been standing and talking, the mom must have decided that none of you were a threat because she’d shifted from a defensive position to sitting and eyeing Soap curiously.

“They’re vermin,” is his deadpan reply.

“It’s a litter of kittens, not a buncha rats. Besides,” you gesture towards the other man in the room, “Suds over there doesn’t seem to mind.”

Soap was leaning over and running his gloved hand along the older cat’s back, and you could hear her purring from the handful of meters between you. His attention is pulled away when he angles his face up to glare at you but he never stops giving the cat affection. Seeing that their mother seemed to trust the new strangers, her kittens jumped off the counter to investigate.

Most of them made their way over to you, but the smallest one scampered over to Ghost. He merely glared down at its gray, fluffy face.

“Mom’s definitely a stray, there’s no way a feral cat would cozy up to someone like that. And I don’t think Soap is especially approachable.” As you speak, you bend at the waist and start pulling off your gloves. There was no way you were missing out on feeling them with your bare hands. “Babies are barely two months- their eyes are still blue.” After petting each- now incredibly rowdy- kitten, you take one in each hand and straighten. Immediately, you’re met with Soap’s quirked eyebrow and what you can only assume is Ghost’s stony expression. Your cheeks warm in embarrassment. “I worked as an assistant vet in high school!”

The two kittens you’d left on the floor swiftly turn their attention to Ghost. His eyes harden again as they run over to him and join the runt who hadn’t left his side, meowing as loud as their little lungs would allow.

Soap barks out a laugh at Ghost’s stiff posture. “You scared of a couple a’ cats L.T?”

“I don’t usually make it a habit to associate with pests.” The taller man eyes the kittens you’re holding. “Probably got rabies or something.”

You hold them tighter to your chest, at least as close as your tac vest would allow, like it’ll protect them from Ghost’s irritated glare. “Actually, it’s pretty rare for cats to-”

It's then that the cats sitting on the ground decide they’re sick of the mask-wearing man ignoring them and promptly launch themselves upward and cling to the worn denim of Ghost’s jeans. They begin climbing him like he’s some incredibly stoic, aloof tree and he flicks his eyes between you and Soap.

“Get them off.” He grunts.

Humming, you meet Soap’s eyes and pretend to think about it.

“No.” You and Soap say at the same time, once again in sync as you start to make your way out of the kitchen. Just as you turn on your heel to leave, you point at the ground near Ghost’s boot where the runt is still staring up at him, “And don’t forget the little one.”

It’s only a minute later when you hear someone muttering under their breath and the familiar heavy stomps of military-issued boots. As you set some of your gear on the beat-up coffee table you see Ghost turn into the room out of the corner of your eye. You have to fight a laugh when you see the two kittens still hanging onto his pants. Except, when you study the rest of him you notice that something is missing and you’re instantly turning around to tell him off for leaving the other kitten. Before you can manage, you’re interrupted by Soap’s bark of laughter.

“Never thought of you as a softie.” He says, a bit hypocritically if you might add since he has his now ungloved hand buried in the mom cat’s fur. She’d curled up there the second he had sat back down in his recliner.

You inspect Ghost again and this time you see what you miss; a little gray face peeking out of one of the bigger pockets on the chest of his tactical vest. This time you do laugh but you slap a hand over your mouth to stifle it.

Ghost’s glare jumps between you and Soap, “Say a word to anyone and I’ll gut you.”

#simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #soap x reader #john mactavish x reader #call of duty x reader #cod mw2 x reader #call of duty imagine #simon riley imagine #john mactavish imagine #this is stupid but that's the point #pinky promise

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ryosei-hime · 1 year

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Moxxie’s Abused Body Language

Obligatory disclaimer: This is my interpretation of the subject at hand. Nothing I say within should be taken as an attempt to state what is and is not canon. If your views or interpretation differ, this is not an attack on you personally or those who interpret things differently from me.

So, with that out of the way, this post’s focus is primarily on Moxxie’s character and how the Spindlehorse crew managed to convey a lot about his childhood abuse through the use of body language in season 2, episode 3.

It’s very easy to see that Moxxie begins to show signs of fear from the moment he realizes where they are. He becomes physically and vocally distressed to the point that he actively fights getting out of the helicopter before Blitz pushes him out. He’s literally shaking here.

Even Millie’s presence isn’t comforting him. In fact, he becomes even more nervous when Crimson takes her hand and watches them very carefully. He knows what Crim is capable of and he knows he won’t hesitate to hurt Millie. Neither being a woman nor technically family is enough to stop him.

A lot of Moxxie’s body language during the introduction of Crim is very obvious. He hunches a lot. He has a lot of darting eyes and fiddling motions. He becomes quieter and more withdrawn than usual. He’s noticeably uncomfortable the entire time.

Even Blitz picks up on it. Once they’re inside, he’s much more subdued than usual throughout the rest of the night and seems to be focusing on assessing the situation.

And, of course, you can see that Millie knows something is wrong from all this as well. She’s in tune with her husband’s feelings. In the scene where Blitz and Crim are talking, Millie’s eyes follow Moxxie’s as they dart, looking where he’s looking to track the source of his distress.

Anyone who has been raised in an abusive home recognizes certain tones when used by their abusers. We can hear that tone when Crim says “Moxxie, I raised you better than that.” This is a warning tone. This is a threat to get back in line and know your place before they put you in it. Moxxie obeys this underlying command quickly, habitually falling back into appeasing his abuser to avoid his wrath.

I believe he does this not only due to his own trauma reaction but also in an attempt to keep Millie and Blitz safe. If he sets off his father, he knows both of them would come to his defense and that could lead to them facing the same fate as his mother. I personally believe Moxxie is well aware that her attempts to help him as a child resulted in her murder, and he would do anything to avoid the same fate for Millie.

However, we all have our limits, things we can’t help but stand up for even in the face of abuse. You can see that Moxxie cares a lot about his identity as a bisexual because he actually speaks up against his father’s past treatment of his relationship with Chaz despite the potential costs. He’s indignant that Crim would spend so long making him miserable for who he is only to turn around and pretend to accept queerness just for the sake of money when he wouldn’t make that effort for the sake of Moxxie himself. It’s clearly a very sore spot for him.

But the minute things turn to guilt tripping about abandoning the family, Moxxie sinks down into his seat in shame. Familial duty and obligation like this is something that’s hard to shake as a child of abuse. No matter how much you understand on a logical level that you don’t owe the people who hurt you just because they gave you life, it sticks with you. And when you add the mafia and its sense of duty on top of this, it’s gotta be staggering.

So, Moxxie is immediately obedient when Crim decides everyone will be sleeping there that night. He’s been successfully put back in his place with fear and guilt. Hoping that if he can just get through this ceremony without causing a stir, he can leave in peace and never be bothered again as he’s been promised. He’s so convinced he can give his father what he wants and make him go away, that he’s a little caught off guard when called back to continue the altercation.

And then Crim hits him.

I want to take a moment to talk about the surprise on his face here. One might think this means that Moxxie wasn’t heavily physically abused as a child, because the blow surprised him. But I don’t believe that’s true. Even when you’ve become used to being hit, you still react to sudden strikes this way. Especially if your abuser is one that’s hard to read. Crim strikes me as the quiet until he’s not kind and it’s hard to predict when that kind of abuser will strike. It’s also likely been years since Moxxie has had to deal with anyone hitting him in a domestic situation. So, of course he’s shocked by the sudden blow. But we’ll come back to that.

Panic begins to set in as Moxxie realizes, as far as he’s concerned, he can’t possibly concede to his father’s demands to marry Chaz. An instinct to do whatever needs to be done to appease the abuser has kicked in. He wants to give Crim what he’s asking for but can’t. And he knows being his son doesn’t mean he’s safe from his wrath.

Again, even in this moment, he speaks up for his bisexuality. And this is obviously an old argument that’s just become tiring at this point for the both of them. They slog through it like a well worn groove. But Crim doesn’t have the patience to run that track for long right now because money’s on the line.

He’s not playing this game with Moxxie anymore and Moxxie will be made to know it. Crim reminds him what he’s capable of.

The first thing shown in the flashback sets up how Crim feels about Moxxie’s relationship with his mother. He thinks she’s making him weak by seeing to his needs (cutting his food) and not demanding he do things for himself. She’s actively standing in the way of him preparing Moxxie for the life he’s chosen for him.

In my opinion, he does think he’s doing what is best for Moxxie considering the world he’s growing up in and the path Crim has chosen for him. Abusive parents often do in these situations. Each time his mother stands in the way of preparing Moxxie for that life, Crim sees it as both a disobedience towards him (which is already unacceptable) and a hindrance to his progeny, a source of pride in his world. He can’t have a weak son or it’ll reflect poorly on him with his associates.

So, of course the only thing to be done to save his own pride and his son’s life as Crim has planned it, is to remove this obstacle and get back to teaching his son to man up and become what’s expected of him - which is, of course, to become a carbon copy of Crim. And I feel like their designs being so similar really helps to underscore this desire of Crim’s whether or not that was done intentionally.

We see evidence of physical abuse toward his mother during the flashback. In my opinion, she’s likely protecting Moxxie from suffering it himself as mother’s can sometimes manage to do in these situations by taking on even more abuse of their own. So, it’s possible there was very little to no physical abuse for Moxxie until his mother was gone.

But it’s shown onscreen that Crim has no problem hitting Moxxie even as a child. As far as I’m concerned, this is when Moxxie’s physical abuse from his father likely starts in earnest. But Moxxie probably learns that as long as he obeys him, he can avoid this abuse. So, I believe he would have been able to decrease the amount of abuse he received in time by being more obedient.

I wanna take an aside for a moment to back up - or maybe better to say go forward - to his past with Chaz. In that flashback, Moxxie is shown being painted nude and his body has no white marks. One might question whether or not he actually received physical abuse based on this fact but to me it has no bearing on the issue.

For one, smart abusers often try to find ways to do so that don’t leave marks. And Crim is the head of a mafia family. If he were to go around openly beating his kid, it would reflect poorly on him. Not because anyone in the organization would care about the actual abuse. But because it would make him look brutish and stupid for allowing it to be seen by everyone. That sort of leader just doesn’t last long and can be a danger to the longevity of the organization itself.

For two, imps get white marks from more extreme injuries such as gunshot wounds and broken arms. It seems that the skin has to be broken or theoretically burned to leave an actual mark. At least from the evidence we’ve seen so far.

Given these two points, whether or not Moxxie was physically abused doesn’t really hinge on how many white marks he has on his body as far as I’m concerned. We’ve seen plenty of imps take blunt force trauma that didn’t leave them covered in white.

If I were to speculate on the trajectory of his experience with abuse overall, he likely received none to very little as a child before his mother’s death, a lot after her death with it decreasing as he learned to obey and avoid triggering his father, and barely any as a young adult.

I believe that reaching that time of almost no instances of abuse once he’d become what his father wanted possibly left him a little more comfortable than he could have otherwise been during the first part of this episode.

And yes even with all the fear and nervousness that I’ve pointed out, I do think there was a sense of security in the possibility that he could appease Crim in the end. Now Crim is telling him in no uncertain terms that he will kill them all if he doesn’t get what he wants.

He knows this isn’t an empty threat. Those who suffer abuse at the hands of their family know the difference between warnings and promises.

I don’t think I really need to go over this scene. Moxxie is disgusted as he should be.

But this whole circus clown of a come on, definitely leaves him worse off once Chaz is ejected. The terrible price he has to pay to protect his loved ones has been thrust into his face, as it were, immediately, giving him no time to process first.

Once he does get some time alone to think about his situation, he has something of a breakthrough. I really appreciate the growl in this scene because I don’t think we very often hear Moxxie growl. We usually get hisses from him instead it seems. And I think it helps portray the depth of his anger over what his father is demanding of him.

As far as Moxxie knows, his father has promised that all he has to do is marry Chaz. He wasn’t told he had to stay. So it would be easy to just comply and leave. That’s the safe route. But doing so would, presumably, violate vows he’s made to Millie. It would compromise the integrity of his relationship with and devotion to her.

This is important enough to Moxxie to fight for. Scrolling through his pictures of Millie not only made this clear to him, but I think it also helped to remind him that he left once before. He can leave again. He doesn’t have to be pulled back into the life that he worked so hard to escape. He doesn’t have to compromise what he wants from life to appease his abuser anymore.

This is a very brief moment but it’s also a very important and powerful one if you know what you’re looking at. It’s so, so easy for abusive family to cause regression when they manage to wiggle back into your life for one reason or another. Family reunions, funerals, weddings. They will take those moments to grab you by the ankles and start pulling you under again.

And that’s when the consequences and stakes aren’t even this high. But Moxxie won’t let himself be dragged back down and I really appreciate they gave him that moment no matter how brief.

And even though they don’t go through his thought process for you to see that, you hear it in his speech the next day when he stands up to his father. I honestly appreciate that Moxxie threatens Crim the way he does here. It not only shows he’s regained confidence in himself and his skills, but he’s also speaking Crim’s language now. He’s putting himself on equal footing with him, insinuating he’s as much of a threat as Crim is to Moxxie.

I’ve seen a lot of criticism of this moment: that having Moxxie zapped and forced into the wedding regardless makes his standing up to his father fall flat. And I would agree with that a little but for the fact that there’s still time to bring that confrontation back around to completion. As season two and Helluva Boss as a show is still ongoing, there are plenty of episodes left for Moxxie to follow through with his threats and support this breakthrough with actions. Crim is clearly coming back, after all.

I also think, however, that having that moment at all is still very important to character development. Simply because there was no physicality to back it up, doesn’t mean the emotional journey that led to it was entirely worthless. Moxxie still had very important character development here. When he left the first time, he simply disappeared and did not confront his father. But now he has. And that makes a big difference.

When he returns to his life, it’ll be with a different mindset and a different kind of confidence. He’s no longer running from his father, hiding from his duties, or obscuring parts of himself from his loved ones. He’s truly stood up and taken his life fully into his hands. And now there are parts of himself he can share with Millie that he couldn’t before. This can only bring them closer and make their marriage more intimate.

In the same way, he now has a point of connection with Blitz over their daddy issues, which brings them closer to fulfilling that true friendship Truth Seekers hinted at. One step at a time, Moxxie and Blitz come closer to understanding one another.

All in all, I loved this episode. It does a good job of handling the subject of abuse and associated tragic backstory without sensationalizing or downplaying it, both of which are extremely easy to do in a comedy-drama mash-up. But I personally feel like they managed to hit the sweet spot between the two.

#Helluva Boss #moxxie helluva boss

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penaconys-hound · 1 month

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Obligatory RP Blog intro post

(Warning: Contains Spoilers for the end of 2.1 and 2.2 and was initially created before 2.2)

———

Making a drink is a sensory skill. In dreams, creating fizzy concoctions requires adding a bit of your mood. Heavier if you're troubled, a touch sweeter if you're in high spirits... It's not just about mixing beverages. It's about mixing the experiences of life.

Gallagher's the name, I'm one of the local "Hounds" around here. Step into Penacony, the Land of Dreams, Nameless one.

Tired? Just find a place to sit and rest for a while. Let’s have a talk and I’ll mix something up for you.

But a few words of advice…

Don’t get lost in dreams, and not everything’s as it seems.

Guidelines, Key, Tags and Notes from the mod:

Guidelines:

-Fellow RP Blogs are allowed, uh hiii Star Rail RP community

-This is my first RP Blog after like a year or so (previous ones just died) so I may be rusty so apologies for that -Using tonetags would be appreciated, not required but appreciated, especially if you say something that could come off as rude but you don’t mean it in that tone, the mod can’t read tone through text.

-SFW only please, Suggestive themes are allowed with a warning however

-Gore’s on the table though, but only if the meme gets involved, or you somehow get a good reason for it, I don’t think Gallagher would just maul you out of nowhere- However since this takes place in the dreamscape blood will be described as water and that’s all that’s gonna spill out-

-Shipping is allowed, I’ll allow any ship unless it’s pr*ship or with Sunday, with the former it’s obvious on why I wouldn’t, gross. You’ll get hit on the offense side of Gallagher’s Ultimate if you try that.

But on Galladay it’s simply cause I’m just not super comfortable with Gallagher x Sunday-

But yeah, as long as you’re follow the shipping rules the sky’s the limit, especially since I see Gallagher as bi

-Mod uses the CDT Timezone and is in education, but otherwise doesn’t have a life, and also has adhd with rapid changing hyperfixations so answer times can range from a minute to over a week

-Anything related to, but not limited to, racism, homophobia/transphobia, sexism, ableism, etc. Is not allowed here.

I’m serious if you come into the askbox with that you’ll get the “Dog” after you:

-Anons are welcome, you can even have a custom tag if you use a sign off and show up enough

-Magic Anons are allowed however only one can be active at a time and they have a 2-5 ask cooldown depending on what the effects where

-You can technically also ask the Meme on this blog, but don’t expect it to say anything other then *STABS YOU STABS YOU STABS YOU STABS YO

Key:

“ “ (Just plain text): Dialogue

“ “ (Same as above but in bold)/“ “ (Purple bold text): (what’s used is dependent on what’s exactly being said) Dialogue where Gallagher puts on his Reaper Robe

(The text for that was originally red however I changed it to purple for two reasons: Reason one being in the lore Acheron uses Red text sometimes and I think it’d be weird if I interacted with an Acheron and she also used red text,

and I changed it to purple specifically cause it matches Sleepie)

“* *” (Asterisks around text): Action/Movement

“// //“ (Two slashes around text): OOC/Mod talking

Tags:

#🥃bartenders rambles : In character posts/asks

#🐺barred fangs : In character posts/asks when Gallagher is playing the role of “The Reaper/Death”

#🌀don’t fear the reaper. : Fanart reblog tag

#👁️ The Dog. : Mentions/Discussion of the Memory Zone Meme “Something Unto Death”/“Sleepie”

#🐾mods yapping : Posts from the mod/OOC posts, not counting OOC moments in the tags of ask posts

#💫care for a drink under the stars? : Interaction reblogs/RPs, whatever with fellow Honkai: Star Rail RP blogs, can be in or out of character

#🪶hounds prey : Interactions with Sunday and/or Robin/Mentions of Sunday and/or Robin

#🧹the bellboy : (there was no mop emoji) Interactions with Misha/Mentions of Misha

(Tags may be added for specific characters and art RBs if I decide to do that, but for now that’s the tags)

Anon Tags:

#🍸 anon

#🥂 anon

#🍀 anon

Side Notes:

-If you’re wondering on the Mod’s pronouns if you didn’t read the bio, the Mod uses Any/All pronouns (like he/she/they/it etc. Idrc-)

-This will include headcanons, if it wasn’t obvious from the “I see Gally as Bi” comment

-It could possibly get OOC at times while I’m in character, I made the blog before 2.2, but I’m trying to stick to the character as well as I can, and if 2.2 changes his character again I’ll attempt to pull something to fit with that

-Mod will refer to himself ether as “The Mod” or “Mod Werewolf”

Other Blogs the Mod Runs if you’d like to check those out:

(disclaimer they’re not all gonna be for the same fandom in the future)

@the-coolest-character-in-hsr (Hanu from Honkai: Star Rail)

@trash-president-real (Trash President (OC) Honkai: Star Rail)

Anyways hope you enjoy the blog, and avoid getting stabbed by the meme

#🐾mods yapping #Why am I slightly nervous about doing this-#But it’d be a waste to take the username then just. Not launch the blog #So here we go #Plus there are like no Gallagher’s I’ve seen in the RP community-#Guess I need to be him #honkai star rail #honkai star rail roleplay #hsr rp blog #hsr rp #hsr gallagher #gallagher #gallagher hsr

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mindibindi · 8 months

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⭐(Re)Visit a Classic XF Fic [7/7]⭐

So, as part of The X files 30th anniversary celebrations, I took it upon myself to highlight some of the AMAZING authors I first read in this fandom. They were a HUGE part of my experience of watching the show during it's original run. For shippers, the original run was a marathon in faith, frustration and endurance. We were judged, dismissed, ridiculed and gaslit throughout. But in fandom, we found solidarity, and in fanfic, we found solace. (AND we won in the end, so THERE).

As a retired author, I also have a vested interest in pleading the case of older writers. Fanfic archives are libraries, not social media sites. Don't just read whatever comes up most recently in your feed. Search. Discover. Explore. Experiment. Yes, there are some differences in older fanfic culture that are evident in these seven recs. Characters may be understood differently in their original context, narrative style may also differ (more 1st/2nd person address that even addresses the reader directly), there may also be less clear trigger warnings and fewer opportunities for feedback/community. I know we all love AO3 and are grateful for its good works. But don't forget that there are other avenues through which to explore fanfiction.

For this final rec, I want to return to the first author I rec-ed. I urge you to check out her other works. The characters are sometimes a little overwrought or OOC but even when they are, her stuff is tremendously messy, sexy and fun. Here Mulder and Scully are perfectly in character in a rather rauchy scenario. (If you're a babyphile and you don't know the politics at play then ask an auntyphile to fill you in). I will post links below for all the classic authors I have rec-ed, along with a few archives you may want to check out.

Rec #7:

MSR, obligatory stakeout fic

Prompted by current events, Mulder and Scully discuss oral sex

Some knowledge of the Bill Clinton/Monica Lewinsky scandal required

READ MORE BY:

Rachel Anton (inc lots of Krycek content)

Beduini

Suzanne Schramm

Shalimar

Terma99

Narida Law

The search engine is not great but Gossamer IS still up and running:

X-Libris is a current archive that is doing a great job of recovering older works. You can suggest fics to be added to the site or even ask for a long lost fic to be tracked down!!

Smaller archives but also still up and running is Whispers of X and XFSM, both of which are good for different pairings, threesomes and a bit of kink, if that's your jam.

In particular, if you're into BDSM then you may want to check out Kristel St Johns "Aphrodisia" which does a beautiful job of putting Mulder and Scully in a v different, intense kind of physical relationship . The novel is unfinished but definitely still worth a read.

#txf #the x files #xf30th #fanfic #fanfiction #xf fanfic #xf fandom #ff recs #msr #mulder x scully #dana scully #fox mulder #sculder #scully x mulder #sorry other pairings didn't really get a look in here

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moiraineswife · 8 months

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Moiraine And Lan - The Inability To Communicate Trauma

Hello friends. It has been quite some time. Quite some time since I have: absolutely lost all my fucking shit over my blorbos at great length via a long and quotation filled tumblr meta. Fear not: the status quo of the universe returns, and I am once again: back on my bullshit (literally hours before the next episode airs and this gets drowned/replaced with New Content. Because I’m smart like that). ANYWAY.

Today we’re going to discuss: Mo and Lan and the singular moron-flavoured braincell they share, bond or no bond. More seriously, however: I’ve noticed a few bits of commentary/takes/analysis of the current state of their…well state, let’s be frank here, and realised that my contrary ass has: Different Opinions. So I figured I’d share them. Bc that’s what I do.

(Obligatory disclaimer that there is no right or wrong way to interpret something - that’s why it’s an interpretation, and this is not a call out or a “oh wow you’re wrong and here’s why!!!!” post directed at anyone or anything. Just my observation that I am going against the grain of what I’ve seen and thus throwing out: a new chew toy for us to gnaw on).

Also: please do note that this post will cover, rather extensively/in-depth, the trauma arc that Lan and Moiraine are going through at the moment and will contain trigger warnings for: depression, PTSD, trauma response, rape (in the context of the analogy that Verin presented), suicide, suicidal ideation, suicidal attempt (again: all in the context of the show/previous events), and everything related to the topics that have been raised in the first two episodes for these characters. Be safe and tap out if you need to!

So. Obligatory wiffle aside: what shall we discuss? In a nutshell (bc I’m real good at that) I’m covering how, as I see it/am fascinated by it: the responses that they’re having to each other at the moment are mirrors/insights into the responses that they’re each having to the recent traumas that they’ve both suffered. In more depth/the points where I think I differ from the norm we’re going to cover:

1)-why Lan is: not an idiot, actually. I see it as him being still perfectly capable of READING/understanding Moiraine without the bond; what he’s having difficulty with is COMMUNICATING with her without the bond

2)- that Moiraine is actually: ALSO failing dismally at communicating with Lan, and that she’s doing: a real fucking bad job of manipulating him. (is she HURTING him? Yes. 100%. Is she MANIPULATING him into doing what she wants? Given that she clearly wants nothing more than for him to: leave her, and that after 5 solid months he has: not left, I’m just going to put out the idea that maybe she’s not quite meeting her all of her targets in this area.

3)- wow they’re both doing incredibly stupid things, and they’re doing them for the same incredibly stupid reasons, and they are, in fact: INCREDIBLY THE SAME. See: singular moron-flavoured brain cell. This manifests slightly differently, due to their own individual traumas influencing the specifics of their actions/thought processes - but the general underlying thesis is the same for both.

The TL;DR here is that: these weirdos still know each other, and love each other, and understand each other without their bond. Can they communicate any of what they want to communicate in any kind of effective way? No. No they cannot. They BOTH suck. (I say that with legitimately all the love in the world).

So. Let’s start with Lan. Purely because I think my takes on him are the most Spicy/differ the most from everyone else’s and, let’s be honest, everything here feeds into everything else and this is going to get complicated where I start SO. Drama first. (I think it’s what they would want).

Okay so first and foremost I want to try and establish/explain what I mentioned at the outset of this thing which is: Lan is not blind, he’s not stupid, and he is not suddenly completely and utterly incapable of understanding a single feel that Moiraine feels if he can’t feel it with her via bond.

The largest and most obvious piece of evidence for this feels like the best one to start with and, for me, this is the fact that: HE DIRECTLY AND COMPLETELY CALLS HER OUT ON HER BULLSHIT, TO HER FACE, TWICE!!!

“Don’t smile at me. You can shut me out, try to drive me away, but don’t you dare smile at me. As though everything is fine. As though you don’t know exactly what you’re doing.”

This is from episode 1, where he finally snaps at her after she gives him that fake ass little smile and is like ‘is an aes sedai not allowed her secrets’ when he tries to talk to her/get her to explain: literally anything to him. And THAT is what pushes him over the edge.

She has been cold. She has been dismissive. She has flat out ignored him like he’s not even present. He has taken it all. Not happily, and with obvious frustration, but he hasn’t said a peep. Not when she gives him one brusque, dismissive one-word orders (“door”) like a dog. Or when she deliberately turns away from him and refuses to so much as look at them - he endures all of that and just takes it and let’s her do it. Because he understands that this is her current expression of: not being fine.

If she WAS fine, she would not be doing these things, and he knows that, and I think sees it as something like a storm to weather? It is something that will pass (he hopes) if he has the patience and the strength to wait it out. When she smiles at him? When she tries to make a JOKE out of what she’s doing? Out of the secrets that she’s been keeping from him - secrets like the fact that she was planning on going to the Eye of the World to die without him - THAT is not acceptable. She’s smiling at him and trying to joke with him as though they’re still capable of that - as though they can still tease each other the way they did, as though things are fine, both in herself, and between them, and they are NOT. When she’s treating him like a slave, or a stranger, or an annoyance - that is strangely better - because it’s this unspoken acknowledgement/agreement (the only one they’ve been able to achieve) that this is because things are not fine. She treats him badly because she’s not fine, he KNOWS she’s treating him badly because she’s not fine - is a strange kind of shared truth. Like sarcasm - something said/done where both parties know that the meaning/intent is completely different. Smiling, joking, pretending she’s fine? That is an insult, because he knows damn well she is NOT in that place.

Okay, so let’s look at the second instance of this, which occurs in episode 2 (oh how quaint) and is as follows:

L: “Then tell me! You and I have walked this path together. Every step, every choice, every sacrifice.”

M: “We have never walked this path together. You have never seen the forest for the trees because I have never shown it to you.”

L: “I know what you’re trying to do. You can’t push me away.”

Again, as with the previous scene, he tries to get her to talk to him, to stop keeping secrets from him, to share this with her and let him help her carry her burdens the way they always have. She puts him walls, she, again, tries to force distance - she tells him that they have never been together as he says. And he calls her out. AGAIN. He knows what she’s trying to do. It hasn’t changed. She’s still just doing the same thing she’s been doing from the start of episode 1 - trying to force him away, because she’s desperate, and she’s suffering, and she doesn’t have anything else but this - even if he knows what she’s doing, even if it hasn’t worked so far.

Both of them are guilty of this - both of them get one idea stuck in their minds of how to handle this situation/how to fix everything, and they both refuse to change. They both dig their heels in, plant their stakes, pick their hills to die on, and are refuse to budge for love, money, or common sense. For Lan it’s in trying to get her to talk, to open up, to push back on the destructive coping mechanisms she’s got - trying to force her to include him, tying to force her to include herself and come to dinner with them etc. For Mo it’s this: it’s pushing him away, because she is no longer worthy of him (and believes she never was) and protecting him.

(to continue this: unhinged adventure, pls continue under the cut!)

So she commits to this, even if she honestly knows it probably won’t work now, either. (she empties her entire quiver on him in this scene, and the atomic bomb she had in her back pocket too for good measure. These things she’s been holding back in reserve, the last cards to play - that she misled him about Rand’s death, that she has discovered they (and notice that she still says “we” when she talks about this - even though she went to the Eye alone, even though she made that choice alone, even though she rejects the idea that they have been together on this quest, as he says - when she is not actively choosing every word to hurt him, she thinks of them and what they’ve done as an unconscious “we” and a unit) have freed Ishamael/possibly other Forsaken - one after the other, meant to just overwhelm him and be the final coup de grace. And it STILL doesn’t work. She unleashes everything she has on him and he STILL insists that he’s not leaving her. And it’s because he knows - as he just said - what she’s doing, and why. And he will not let her. And he says that to her “I’m not letting you walk away from me again” - because the last time he did: she went to the Eye to get herself killed. And it’s only by some miracle and twist of cruelty that she was left alive to suffer instead.

Also I’m going to take a brief sidebar here, before we move on to Further Evidence/thoughts on this. But I think that it’s really important to consider LAN’S trauma in what he’s doing and why? Like, I think people are doing this for Mo already? They recognise that she wouldn’t be behaving this way if she 1)- wasn’t trying to protect Lan (her intention) and 2)- wasn’t suffering the effects of her trauma/being cut off from the Power at the Eye. Lan is a little less obvious (both in that his trauma is not a single fixed point/event that’s very obvious and easy to refer back to; and that he’s a bit less blunt Lan Mo’s “brick to the face” techniques and motivations) but, as I said at the start: his reactions to Mo are a direct reflection/window into his own trauma responses.

So, as I just mentioned - Lan is SO adamant about not leaving Moiraine, not giving her the opportunity to distance them/push him away - because the last time she did that, in just nudging him, like, an inch to the left, she used that to mask their bond and skip off into the Blight to go get herself killed with Rand. And there is: no doubt, and no question, and no room for wiggling or negotiation on this. They BOTH were FULLY aware that that was a suicide mission. The first thing he says to her when he finds her is “you’re alive” - because he was sure that history was repeating on him.

Because I think that it’s very important to not just consider Mo’s actions here, I think it’s important to remember Lan’s experience with Stepin as well. The two played out very similarly for him/parallel each other almost exactly. They both talked to him about Nynaeve, encouraging him to seek a love and a life with her. They both manipulated him/the circumstances to make it impossible for him to try and protect them - Stepin by drugging him, and Moiraine by masking the bond so he was unable to sense her, so that they could leave him. They both had clear plans and intentions - and both of their ultimate goals was for it to end in their death (obviously the REASONS behind this are very different - Mo was trying to save the world; while Stepin’s had already ended). But in both cases, Lan wakes up alone, realising that they’ve left him, realising, instantly, what they intend to do and in both cases: he was too late and he feels that he failed. Stepin he finds dead - and the only reason that he DOESN’T find that has happened to Mo is not because of something he did, it’s not because he got to her in time, it’s not because he protected her, it’s not because HE did anything at all - it’s just because some whim of cruelty decided to spare her. And these two events happen within, like, a week of each other I want to say? Like that’s…That’s an incredibly damaging and traumatising thing to go through ONCE - but back to back? How guilty must he have felt? How ANGRY with himself? Because how could he not have learned? How could he have let this happen AGAIN?

Of course he’s terrified now. Of course he’s terrified that if he leaves she’s going to die. Of course he refuses - past the point of any sense or reason - to just back down and leave. He is certain that if he does it will mean the death of the person that he loves the most in this world. And it will be HIS fault. She’s being cruel to him, she’s pushing him away, she’s ignoring him, she’s ordering him around, she’s deliberately pushing every button he’s got, and stabbing her knife in every sensitive spot she’s discovered over the last twenty years. And what kind of weak, selfish, useless person would he be to let that be all it takes for him to just say ‘well fine, I’ll just abandon you and let you kill yourself without me’. He cannot fail again. He WILL NOT fail again. He has been here, history is repeating on him again and he will not let it. Whatever she says to him. However she hurts him. Whatever he has to endure to weather this storm with her he will. Because none of this pain even comes CLOSE to what it will be like if he leaves her and she hurts herself and that is entirely his fault.

(Note: I do not actually think that Moiraine is actively suicidal at this point. As Verin notes - she chooses to fight every day. She wakes up, she fills her buckets, she puts one foot in front of the other and she clearly keeps going. It’s wobbly, and it’s messy, and she’s clearly grieving and depressed and traumatised - but she is not suicidal. Does LAN know that? Can Lan, without the bond, and with Stepin, and the Eye, haunting him even begin to scrape together the required rationality to see that? No. Lan sees Moiraine as being in just as much danger as she sees him being in and all he can do, all he has left to do in this world is protect her. And so he will).

To conclude the wrap of: the most painful breakup scene in the history of the world (for me and my present blorbos at this present moment in time, anyway) I want to just talk about the infamous “we were never equals”. And a lot of it has been covered, and I agree with the takes that Moiraine does not believe herself equal to Lan (and never did (SELF ESTEEM ISSUES!? IN MY CODEPENDENT PLATONIC SOULMATE RELATIONSHIP!? NOOOOO!!!!!!! NEVER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)) and that is how she’s able to say this oath wise. I just want to touch on the fact that some people seem to be like ‘bro how can u not see what she’s saying DIRECTLY TO UR FACE, BRO!? COME ON LAN. LISTEN!!!!’ and like. So, to bring up a controversial and possible shocking observation: Lan is, in fact: still a human being! Emotions are messy, and logic is a fine and wonderful thing from a couch, yelling at your tv screen, and with the delightful ability to rewind and replay conversations/moments in time to be able to link them together nicely.

But Moiraine has been cruel to him for months at this point in an effort to drive him away. And, as discussed - he knows what she’s doing. He knows WHY she’s doing it. He is enduring it and putting up with it and stomaching it without throwing things at her because he knows it’s an expression of pain and is a reaction to what she’s been through. But he’s also hurt by it. Not least because: even if she’s only SAYING these things to hurt him/drive him away - she still believes them enough that they’re true for her to be able to actually get them out of her mouth. That HURTS. That’s going to break you down, that’s going to GET to you, that’s going to be thing that keeps him up at night and just echoes in his head over and over again and like - my man’s self-esteem and self-worth wasn’t actually sitting up at the peak of Dragonmount BEFORE 5 months of this, like dear Light people.

To have the person you love the most in this world tell you that “I don’t want my saddle to slip” (I don’t trust you to do this for me), to have her admit that she deliberately misled him, that she has actively kept important, possibly world-changing events from you, that she says, to your face - the thing that you are MOST afraid of, the thing that tormented him via Machin Shin, the thing that torments him still about Stepin - that he FAILED her? For her to believe that so firmly that it’s truth to her? Of course he doesn’t think he’s worthy of her? Of course he’s willing to take what she says at face value. SHE CAN’T FUCKING LIE!!!! And the set-up to this is so important, because she goes right for the jugular in this scene, and she does so repeatedly, in quick succession.

So she hits him with: ‘actually I lied when I said before that WE were going to the Tower - I’m going on my own without you. We yote a forsaken out into the world OOPS. -I refuse to explain anything to you. -We have never been walking this path together. -I have never showed you everything, I have always hidden things from you. -OH also ur lil sheepherder dude is actually: not dead and never was, I #lied to ur face abt that. -I am loyal to the Dragon - and ONLY him. -You can’t protect me anymore without the bond. -No, you’re not my Warder, you failed me, and I would be dead in spite of you if not for the help of people more competent than you. -ALSO here’s our good buddy Alanna and I am going to THREATEN TO HAVE HER TAKE YOUR BOND BY FORCE IF YOU KEEP REFUSING ME and I arranged this ahead of time to make this right. ALL of this gets dumped on his head in the space of LITERALLY AROUND TWO MINUTES. Like damn Mo the bloody Fades were less efficient than that.

He has just had all of that thrown in his face - the things she’s been holding back, keeping in case she needed them - her lying to him, her isolating him, her NEVER walking this path with him or ever showing him all that she saw, telling him that he is not her Warder anymore, that he has FAILED to protect her, that she will have him bonded against his will just to get rid of him. And he stands there on the ground, while she gazes down at him from on top of her horse (which she mounted - for the first time we’ve seen on screen - without his aid (which is a GUTTING little touch, because we see him smoothly and seamlessly help her mount a couple of times in season 1)) and she just says, to his face, the TRUTH, as he asked for: they were never equals.

And she can say that because she believes that he is better than her, and we know that, but can you blame him for not quite catching that in the moment????? She’s just told him that he’s a failure, that she’d be dead and he didn’t do a damn thing to protect her, that she will have someone bond him forcibly - and in this moment she just says what he’s been thinking for months, for YEARS honestly, given what machin shin torments him with “you can’t protect her. You’ll watch her die.” Of course he believes it. He is ALREADY taking an irrational level of responsibility over all of this, over what he perceives as his failures.

Adeleas calls him out for this and tells him he’s taking it too personally (and he IS) - he is assuming responsibility for not preventing something as though that means that he caused it. And again: this is a trauma response. This is an overreaction to a perceived series of circumstances that led to the death of a friend he’s had for possibly decades, to the one person he is supposed to protect, who he let go on a suicide mission alone so that he could get fucking laid, who he let slip away from him AGAIN to get attacked by Fades - where he failed her FOR A THIRD TIME. But like…He starts this little conversation off with her by apologising because he didn’t sense the Fades. He has: absolutely no way, reasonable or other ways, to sense INVISIBLE CREATURES THAT MOVE THROUGH SHADOW without the bond giving him the ability to do so. It’s a ridiculous thing to say. It has no logic to it at all and that’s the POINT. He is not capable of logic about this situation. He is blaming himself for everything - every single thing he can think of, whether it’s reasonable or not, is his fault, and his responsibility - he should have sensed the fades, he should have sensed her leaving, he should have stopped her going to the Eye, he should have stopped her from being cut off. He is trying to assert control, he is trying to assign blame and reason to the things that have happened to him - to the losses he has suffered - so that he can stop suffering them. And he can’t. He can’t. It happens over. And over. And over. AND OVER again. The trolloc blade that hit Moiraine in the Two Rivers and nearly killing her. Logain’s shield exploding and the axe handle piercing her side and nearly killing her. Being drugged by Stepin who killed himself while Lan was absent. Letting himself be distracted by Nynaeve while Mo went to the Eye. Missing Mo leaving AGAIN and her being attacked by the Fades. Actually getting there while the attack was in progress finally at LAST being able to DO something, to STOP something - and he can’t even fucking manage that. Over and over and over he fails people and he loses them and it’s his fault and he can’t stop it. He’s been retraumatised by circumstance, and is now retraumatising HIMSELF by adding even more perceived failings to the existing tally. Of course he believes her. He’s just been waiting for her to say that to him from the day they bonded. NO ONE IN THIS DYNAMIC HAS ANY SELF-ESTEEM. LIKE THEY STARTED WITH ZERO TOTAL AND SOMEHOW IT’S GOTTEN WORSE.

Okay so shifting focus slightly for the last thing I want to say about Lan, but still related, because: the problem (for me) is not that they cannot read/understand each other, it’s that they cannot COMMUNICATE with each other. And there is a distinction here. Lan’s issue is not lack of understanding where Mo is at - he sees her suffering, knows she’s not fine, understands she is reacting to the loss she endured at the Eye, he gets that. He’s known her for twenty years - bond or no bond - he knows what pain looks like when he sees it in her eyes. That’s not it. What he’s struggling with, and what he’s frustrated by is that they are not TALKING. He knows how she’s feeling - he doesn’t know what to do about that. He doesn’t know how to TALK about that with her. He doesn’t know how to fix it because she refuses to engage with it at all - and they’re SO bad at this that they don’t even get to the part where she can ignore him trying to talk abt the actual problem, bc she just nips it in the bud and ignores him/deflects him from the opening bland ‘small-talk’ set-up questions to start making forrays into that.

Because before all of that would have happened instinctively via the bond - she feels the bad feels, he knows why, he sends the required good feels back/makes her tea/gives her an extra blanket/just responds without having to think about and, and this is the key point: without having to talk. Because, let’s be real here: these idiots BOTH suck at talking about their emotions/needs. Genuinely think they would both just lie on the ground and fucking die rather than say ‘I need a bandage because I’m BLEEDING PROFUSELY FROM EVERY ORIFICE.’ Because they’re deeply repressed, traumatised people who were never given the tools/language/space they needed to be able to safely and healthily learn to express their feels (but that…is a different piece of meta for another day).

THE POINT IS: we’re now going to turn to my beloved, my man, my favourite, the myth, the legend, the ICON: Tomas and his tomatoes. And by this I do of course mean that we’re doing a deep dive of the scene where Tomas gives Lan some advice after they go out to the (absolutely THRIVING - good job my man) garden to pick some tomatoes for dinner (or at least….Tomas goes out to pick tomatoes for dinner; and Lan goes out to brood in his proximity while he does so. ) But eh. Tomayto, tomahto….) ANYWAY:

So this scene gives Lan a chance to talk about losing the bond - and I think that is important as well? Likely obviously Moiraine is Going Through It here, and Lan hasn’t been cut off from the Power/isn’t dealing with that experience but WE DON’T PLAY TRAUMA OLYMPICS IN THIS HOUSE!!! PAIN IS PAIN AND IT SHOULD ALL BE VALIDATED AND DEALT WITH IN A CONSTRUCTIVE AND POSITIVE WAY. Ahem. Anyway. It’s the moment you’ve all been waiting for: QUOTE TIME AGAIN;

“The bond made things easier. It was like a friend walking along with us chatting away so we never had to.”

I think this is a really interesting (and honestly fascinating) way to describe the bond - to personify it and see it as another individual existing between them and making things easier by doing the things that they both struggle to do - use their goddamn words.

“She’s tired, she’s hungry, she’s angry, she’s afraid. Now silence.”

This part, too, I think is really telling. Because if I had to put money on it and pick out the Top 4 Feelings Moiraine Is Having I think I could do a lot worse than ‘tired, hungry, angry, and afraid’. He KNOWS how she’s feeling. He can read that in her still. He doesn’t need the bond to tell him that. That’s not what he’s missing. He doesn’t need the bond to point out what she’s feeling to him, and he doesn’t miss that aspect, he misses the ‘chatting away’, he misses the noise, he misses the COMMUNICATION, and he is struggling with the silence.

THAT is what the bond used to do for them - it used to ‘chat away so they never had to’. A friend, a helper, who facilitated between them and allowed them to communicate when they couldn’t speak/didn’t have the words. We see this over and over and OVER again in season 1. They have whole ass conversations without making a single peep. Most notably in extremely tense or emotional moments - Kerene’s funeral and the look they share, Lan struggling with Stepin’s grief, coming to Moiraine, kneeling beside her, holding her hand - so much happens in that scene in particular. Without saying a word he communicates an exhaustion, a fatigue, a grief and a sorrow - a need for comfort and support - and she gives it. At Stepin’s funeral - the lookk that he gives her, the way he seeks her in the crowd, again needing her strength, which she gives to him through their bond and across a room. THAT’S what’s gone. That’s what he keeps trying to get back.

Because he gives her that same look - that same obvious cry for help and look of desperation at the end of ep 1 with the Fade battle. He is WRECKED he is DONE, he’s disarmed, he cannot stand, he can barely crawl - he NEEDS her, he needs her strength, he needs her help. She tries to channel - she reaches for the power, as she would once have reached for him through their bond - and it does not come. It is not there. It cannot help them. And the words that he speaks to her then echo a repeated sentiment he’s had for her throughout: “what aren’t you telling me?”

The bond isn’t there to talk for her anymore. And she refuses. Consistently. Verin and Adeleas comment on Bayle visiting - and Lan notes that she doesn’t tell him any more than she tells them. After Bayle is gone, Lan tries to small talk, he slaps on a casual little smile and he asks a mundane ‘let’s start the ball rolling on that conversation thing’ question, easy to answer, nothing tense, nothing painful, a very common “how did it go?” she ignores him. He presses further - asks who that person was? She gives him the bare minimum (and doesn’t answer the question he’s ACTUALLY asking) and then he tries to push again - what did she want. At which point she hits him with that fake smile and the ‘can an aes sedai not have her secrets?’ - and he’s not even really asking for much. He’s not asking what he actually wants to ask which is: how are you? Are you okay? What can I do? What do you need? What are you thinking? And this idea repeats - in ep 2, when he tries to point out it takes 8 aes sedai to cut someone off, she snaps that he has no conception of the power the forsaken have - so he snaps at her to tell him then. And she refuses.

They are both FEELING - and their feelings are seen. Lan sees how Mo struggles he sees how she shuts herself away, he sees that she’s not eating, and not sleeping, that she’s frustrated, and she’s frightened. Mo sees that she’s hurting him, she sees that he’s frustrated as well. They know this. But they’re not TALKING. They’re not COMMUNICATING. And at the dinner sequence - this is what Verin, Adeleas and Tomas try to give them advice about - their history is the “common language” that they are; maybe he needs to listen to what she IS saying and not try and demand her to say other things. They don’t know how to talk about things like this - they’re not good at that ANYWAY - but with each other? When they’ve never had to before? When for once, for the first time for both of them, it was effortless to share these things and communicate these deep insecurities and emotions that they struggle to give to others? THAT’S what they’re lacking and that’s what the biggest problem is.

Alright let’s leave poor Lan be for now, I have tormented him enough. On to Momo. This will (hopefully, dear god) be shorter, because people have covered Mo before. We know that she’s traumatised, we know she’s trying to push Lan away to protect him, we know she’s trying to regain control, she feels powerless, she feels helpless, she is trying to deal with something life-altering, something that made her vulnerable and helpless, she’s being reckless with her safety, she’s taking foolish risks etc etc.

The point I want to touch on here is the idea around her ‘manipulating’ Lan, because I usually see this go hand-in-hand with the Lan stuff I talked about already. Largely: how ironic that without the bond Lan doesn’t understand her/cannot read her, but Moiraine is doing it so well with him and i must: respectfully decline to go along with that perspective. And this is (I imagine u know what im going to say now) *inhales deeply* because they SUCK AT COMMUNICATING!!!!

It doesn’t really MATTER that he is trying to open her up/communicate that he loves her, and he’s there for her, and he wants to support her; while she is trying to communicate the same - she loves him, she cares about him, she wants to protect him. They are both: failing dismally. Lan’s incessant pestering of Mo to talk to him is just making her clam up more and more because she can’t and what’s more: she doesn’t bloody want to. She wants to shove her trauma under a rug in the corner of Verin’s study, and then she wants to drag a bookshelf over the top of it, and then she wants to fill the bookcase with books, and then she wants to put a whole bunch of extra things on top of the bookcase, and then she wants to flee the country and forget that any of that ever exists because she does not want to deal with it. And Lan keeps pushing. He keeps trying to make her talk, because he’s desperate, and he misses the chattering of their friend the bond, and he wants to help, her wants her to let him back in, and it’s just pissing her off. Which is what the cottage squad calls him out for (when will Mo get her ‘come to jesus’ talk?? For Fairness? Like i need this too).

So Lan is coming at this: far too softly, and far too indirectly in a lot of ways. He never asks about what he actually wants to ask about. He talks about the weather, or how shiny Aldieb’s coat is this morning, or how nice and red and juicy Tomas’s tomatoes are. He never actually just says what he wants to say which is: “I love you, and I’m worried about you, and I’m failing you more and more every day and I’m sorry and I need you” he pussyfoots around it and avoids it and lets her shut him down because that hurts and, well, he deserves that hurt so alright then.

And then there’s Mo. Who has managed to somehow twist the logic of the universe so that she can say “I love you” by, uh *checks notes*: Not saying anything at all/ignoring him. Or by saying things like “you failed me” instead. Because she is just THAT powerful. Okay I’m being a bit sarcastic here, clearly, but she has convinced herself (based on how her trauma is affecting her) that she: 1)- does not deserve Lan/is not worthy of him and so he should leave her so he can be happy and 2)- she needs to protect him and so he should leave her and go and be safe.

Maybe she tried to articulate this at some point? Sit him and down and be like ‘okay Allan so I know u have a lot of trauma abt, like, being abandoned/being left behind so ppl u love can go do themselves great harm but…it would REALLY be just swell for me if u left me all by myself while i go through possibly the worst things that’s ever happened to me: alone. Okay? Okay.” However I doubt this. Bc, as previously and repeatedly discussed: these two can’t communicate for SHIT right now.

I think she probably made some sort of roundabout suggestion? Like she didn’t directly say ‘you need to leave me because reasons’ but she probably…asked him to go the White Tower and watch over Nyn and Eggy, or maybe go with Perrin and the Shienarans to help, or even ‘hey remember Mat? The little scrungly one?? I wonder where he is’ and he just told her ‘absolutely fucking not’ (or words to that effect) so she had to try something else instead. Which is: being mean af.

So far so good and I think we’re all (relatively) in agreement to this point. But then people think…She’s being successful here? And she’s reading him well - largely because she knows EXACTLY what to say to hurt him? And yes, she absolutely does, I will 100% give you that. Blade directly to the heart each and every time, she never misses. HOWEVER. This is not the actual point. Causing Lan pain is not her endgame - it’s actually just the painful middle step that’s hurting her too to try and get her to her endgame.

Manipulation essentially involves doing ‘y’ (in this case being deliberately cruel/causing Lan pain) to make the person do ‘x’ (in this case: push Lan away and make him leave her), in theory/if it’s super successful: without the person realising that you’ve orchestrated this/making it seem like it was all their idea/decision. This is, uh, not working too great. It’s been 5 months and Lan is probably less likely to leave her now than he was when she started (because he now has 5 months worth of knowing that she is actively trying to get him to leave so she can do the Light only knows what and if that’s what she wants him to do while she’s in this state then it’s absolutely the last thing that he feels he should do - so in that sense this has actually backfired kinda spectacularly on Mo. Because: SHE’S COMMUNICATING JUST AS BADLY AS HE IS!!!!!!!!!! Just. On the COMPLETE opposite end of the spectrum to him. Because they’re drama and aesthetic that way.

And the added bonus content of this is: she CAN do this. She can (and does) manipulate people spectacularly well. Take Bayle for example (god she needed that little win SO badly, bless her and her buckets). She wanted: to see/examine the broken heartstone - but what is she actually going to DO with it? She doesn’t want to put it in a fancy display case or collect it, she wants to know WHY it broke. So what she ACTUALLY wants from him is information. Information such as: the poem. So she haggles with him on the thing she actually wants - makes him feel like he’s getting a win when he agrees to budge on that, far cheaper, item - but then he counters and says that he won’t move on the heartstone chunk itself - which she has no interest in. So she gets her essential infodump poem for a bargain price, and takes Bayle down like six pegs in the process. 10/10, excellently managed misdirection, making him do all the work and lowering the price of the poem so she didn’t even have to ask for it, and making himself look like a plonker into the bargain. Delicious. She CAN manipulate people - she just cannot manipulate Lan (not in this instance/about this anyway) because she’s as wrongfooted as he is, and is scrambling as much as he is without the bond, to try and find a language she never thought she’d need to try and speak with him.

And so if we now consider BOTH of them: they’re in this very weird space here, where the traumas that they have suffered, and the reactions they’re having are placing them in this fundamental position of opposition. Because their needs/the things they believe/have convinced themselves they have to do put them in direct conflict with one another. They’re like an immovable object meets an unstoppable force, right? And this idea reveals itself in several smaller ways - eg: Lan thinking that Mo needs company and to not isolate herself to get better; while for Mo that just feels completely intolerable and she wants to be alone and in Her Space, her study, where she is in control and can pretend to her visitors/informants that all is well and nothing has changed. But I think the biggest point it revolves around/where it’s most obvious is that, ultimately, their absolute overall goal is to protect the other person?

The difference/tragedy of this is that: Moiraine believes fundamentally that Lan is in danger WITH her, and that she has to make him leave in order to protect him. Lan believes fundamentally that Moiraine will be in danger WITHOUT him and that he has to stay in order to protect her. And this is the hill they’ve both chosen as their last stand/thing to die for. So she is going to push him and push him and push him, and she is going to hurt HERSELF by being crueller and crueller and crueller to him to protect him. And all the while he is going to endure and endure and endure and let himself be hurt to protect her.

AND THEN IT GETS WORSE (or better if ur twisted and u enjoy these kinds of parallels the way i do) because: they are both stubbornly trying to protect the other; but they’re also both feeling like they’re martyring themselves/are hurting themselves more and more to do so. She feels like he is being stubborn and forcing her to hurt him more and more every day - which she does not want to do - when he could just go, just let this end, just leave her the way she clearly wants him to! But this will make her stronger. She will be stronger for this, for having let him go, and for knowing that at least she managed to protect him. So she will just keep going - tomorrow, that will do it, he has to break tomorrow, he has to finally break tomorrow. And this goes on. The next day. Maybe the next day. The next–

And then HE feels like he is enduring, and that the pain she is inflicting on him is his cross to bear, and he has to endure it because he will NOT leave her, no matter what she throws at him. And it’s almost a test of his will and his love and his devotion (even though I think he knows it’s not: but it’s kind of become his own little personal quest. Because yes. Yes he SHOULD suffer this way. She SHOULD hurt him like this. He deserves it after how he failed her. He has to take this pain. He has to prove what he’s willing to go through for her, prove how dedicated he is, how much he will suffer for her, how even she cannot break him). And he too is thinking that next day it will get better. If he can just endure, just survive this onslaught, it will end. It will get better. She will get better. This will pass. He just has to prove his strength and last as long as he needs to in order to see that through.

And, to bring us back to the start of this extremely long and rambling essay I present you my final, deeply insightful, deeply professional, deeply ~meta~ thought which is that: they are BOTH. SO. FUCKING. S T U P I D!!!! (in a genuinely really interesting and complex and fascinating way, as i have hopefully discussed/explained - the idea that their lost bond/connection makes them mirror/echo each other but now in a destructive way? That instead of seamlessly and instinctively meeting each others’ needs they are both unconsciously and unintentionally triggering the other person’s trauma and making things WORSE? What an absolutely fascinating take/an incredibly subtle but profound way to show the depth of exactly what they’ve lost/how much it has affected them while ALSO rooting the entire thing in their individual traumas, experiences, and characters - like who ever wrote/conceived of this NEEDS A GODDAMN RAISE I SWEAR) But also yes they are: morons. Absolutely. Without a doubt. One singular moron brain cell that ping pongs between the two of them but is, fundamentally: the same. Absolutely fucking delighted. Can’t wait to see where this goes from here. Join me again in the future for me: ‘wow Rowyn that’s a whole lotta thoughts u got there buddy’.

Also I swear I’m friendly and I like engaging/talking with ppl! Pls feel free to comment/reblog/message!!! And do note that if u reblog i WILL read and appreciate ur tags bc im: one of those Old People.

OKAY BYEEEEEE!!!

#moiraine damodred #moiraine sedai #lan mandragoran #molan #wheel of time #wheel of time prime #wot #wotprime #wotspoilers #wotshowspoilers #rosamund pike #daniel henney #wheel of time season 2 #wot s2 #wot meta #molan meta #my meta #look at all dat trauma #once again pls remember this was: stream of consciousness written with no forethought or afterthought #so no planning no editing no HINGES #yes i AM aware that this is about to get DEVOURED by content/posts abt the new ep but u know what?#i didnt claim to be smart #i just claimed to be unhinged #anyway i had a gr8 time with this im sure you'll all deeply appreciate my angsty insights making this all: Worse #pls enjoy #also pray for the readmore cut #i know this is long as shit #i TRIED #i TRIED REAL HARD TO PROTECT Y'ALL FROM THE ENDLESS SCROLL #but tumblr is: not a functional website

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yukidragon · 2 years

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Have you theorised why Ian cheated? It was long distance when he did so and he called them right away so it looks like he still loved Y/N so do you think it was a drunk thing or more like he for 2 seconds he got the idea in his head that he did want to "satisfy his manhood" since he's only been with one person and immediately regretted it.

I have actually. I’ve mentioned it a couple times in past headcanon posts as my thoughts about it evolved, but I don’t mind going over it again. Heck, your ask is a good excuse to make a post that’s exclusively about the topic of Ian and his relationship with the MC.

For the most part I’m going to speak in general terms for why Ian might have cheated that can apply to all kinds of MCs, and not just my specific version, Alice. Ultimately, I don’t think it mattered what type of person the MC was - Ian cheated for reasons that were entirely his own... and ultimately selfish. I will touch on a few extra headcanons that strictly apply to Ian/Alice’s relationship and how it affects Sunshine in Hell at the end though.

I’ll be posting some artwork that used to be on Jambeebot/Sauce’s public twitter before it went down for some extra tidbits of information, and linking to the official twitter when relevant. As a reminder, please do not repost any private artwork posted on the SnaccPop Studio Patreon. Doing so is harmful to the team and their livelihood. Instead, please consider joining as a patron, contributing to the Something’s Wrong with Sunny Day Jack kickstarter, or just spreading the word about the game to other interested adults.

As a reminder, this series is for Adults Only. Sex is going to be discussed in this post, and there might be a mature image or two for reference.

Also as a heads up, this post will discuss abusive/toxic relationships, past instances of child abuse, SA, and religious trauma. If you are not in the headspace to handle any of these topics, please feel free to give this post a skip.

Obligatory tag for @channydraws and @earthgirlaesthetic before we get started. If you would like to be tagged in the next SDJ headcanon post, please let me know!

First, I want to address the theory that Ian was drunk, blackmailed, or otherwise did not consent to have sex with someone besides MC. Not only do I strongly believe that this is false, as there is evidence to suggest as such, I find this headcanon to be very... uncomfortable, to say the least.

If Ian did not willingly choose to have sex with someone, then he is the victim of SA.

The reason why Ian and MC broke up was because Ian had sex with someone else. If the only reason Ian had sex with someone else was because it was SA, that would mean that MC dumped the victim of SA instead of supporting him after a traumatic incident. MC would have blamed the victim of SA for suffering from SA. Even if we entertain the idea that Ian was too ashamed or didn’t understand it was SA at the time of the breakup, and as such MC had no idea that’s what happened, the victim of SA would have not only gone through the absolute violation that is SA, but lost his greatest source of love and emotional support as a result.

I am not comfortable with that narrative. At all.

Fortunately, it’s very unlikely to be the case, as Ian is taking all responsibility for his actions, as he himself stated in the demo. He did not blame his affair partner for what happened.

I’m going to try anyway. I’ve known you for how long now? I've known that…This is worse than anything we’ve been through. And it’s 100% my fault. But please…Don’t throw me out yet. Even if I deserve it…

There is also an older piece of art by Sauce that isn’t in the game or on the official twitter where Ian confessed to what he had done in a phone call immediately in the aftermath of his affair.

If Ian did not consent to have sex, then this picture changes into something very, very disturbing... well beyond the official warnings given on the subject.

[Romantic, Sexual, Emotional] Themes of manipulation, mind games, sexual consensual coercion, supernatural influence, soft dubious consent, and persuasive seduction.

Fortunately this picture shows Ian as lucid. He is upset and crying over what he did, but there’s no sign that he is in a compromised mental state where he can’t consent to sex.

I understand the reasoning behind making this sort of headcanon. I’ve seen it many times before, where a fan likes a character a lot, but feels uncomfortable towards one or more action that the character has taken. It can create a dissonance in the fan that needs to be resolved, and most often that takes the form of absolving the character of the blame of that questionable action, usually by making it the fault of someone else instead. That way, the character no longer has the trait that makes the fan uncomfortable, and it helps the fan no longer feel guilty for liking the character.

Liking flawed characters is not a sign that there’s anything wrong with you as a person. You can like aspects of a character but still disagree with certain things they’ve done or believed in. You are not tacitly approving of their flawed beliefs or wrongful actions by liking the character.

Everyone is flawed. Everyone has made mistakes. We are all imperfect, because we are all human. This mindset that a character can only be liked if they are absolved of all flaws is not only limiting when it comes to storytelling, it can be damaging, as it makes our own failings feel that much more unforgivable.

Redemption arcs can be pretty underrated, and I think that’s a shame. We shouldn’t be afraid of making mistakes. We should own up to them and learn healthy ways of making amends, or at least how to move on, heal, and grow into a better person.

I believe that Ian’s route in the game is going to be a redemption arc for him. For MC to reach a happy ending with him, Ian will have to truly make amends for betraying their trust. It won’t be easy, but redemption can be a beautiful thing. I eagerly look forward to seeing how Ian will do it and prove that he is truly remorseful and will never make such a mistake again.

Now that we’ve got that sorted, let’s consider the possible reasons why Ian chose to cheat.

First off, let’s start off with the facts that we do know about: Ian and MC are childhood friends who wound up in a relationship. MC was a stable figure in Ian’s life since they were children. The demo touches on a number of memories between them that mean a lot to both Ian and MC, including the afterlife mode.

The two have known each other a long time and know each other fairly well. However, as we’ve seen in the afterlife bonus story, Ian did keep secrets from MC. MC, by contrast, didn’t seem interested in hiding anything. These secrets, particularly whatever it was he hid so desperately under his bed, will probably come out during the game. The only thing we do know is that whatever he’s hiding, it’s not porn, as Sauce tweeted before their twitter was removed.

It’s unlikely that Ian is keeping secrets from MC for malicious reasons. Even when he cheated, he confessed right away rather than tried to hide it. He has a tendency to apologize, which even MC has commented on when describing him.

He was a nerd, and he was silly, and he was VERY apologetically himself, but…What we had was special.

This tendency to apologize and hide parts of himself appear to be the result of an abusive childhood at the hands of his mother. She is someone who not only forces her religious beliefs on her child, but stalks him and tries to control him and his actions.

“...My mom called me.” “Someone gave her our address…Or she might have had one of her friends watching. I don’t know…” “S-She…Uh…She says that…To live with someone out of…Wedlock…I-It��s a sin? And I’m going to hell?” “She said I’m only doing it to…To satisfy…My manhood…” “I-I’m not taking advantage of you by doing this…Am I?”

What’s unfortunate is that even as an adult, even though Ian is aware that what she is “just being mean” to him by planting these doubts in his head and saying such awful things to him, he still listens to her. He didn’t give his mother his new address when he moved, but he still hadn’t blocked her number despite knowing this until MC helped him do so in the episode.

Sadly, I suspect that Ian might have blocked his mother’s number in the past, only to unblock her later. This is purely headcanon on my part, but it’s not uncommon for victims of abuse to block their abuser, only to unblock them in a moment of weakness, especially if the abuser uses their flying monkeys to make the victim feel guilty about blocking them. It would seem that Ian’s mother has plenty of people on her side to do just that if they’re tracking Ian’s movements and reporting back to her about what he’s doing and where he’s going.

This drawing from Sauce’s deleted twitter is presumed by some fans (including myself) to be Ian’s mother. While any art not posted on the official twitter is questionable when it regards to canon, if this is Ian’s mother, and if she’s presumably talking to Ian, then she was verbally abusive and likely insulted Ian’s looks.

Ian was not just abused by his mother over his looks and other reason, but he was bullied by his peers as well.

The only one who seemed to want a friend was the kid who never seemed to have any. That was Ian. Ian wasn’t particularly loud and he didn’t have cool clothes or toys. He just kind of faded into the background. A lot of kids made fun of him.

Years worth of bullying, abuse, and lack of friends would have an effect on Ian. He feels the need to be apologetic and is painfully insecure. He struggles even to accept that MC would want someone like him as a romantic partner, as suggested by pictures like this one.

Scars like these run deep, and it takes a long time to heal. MC is used to comforting and reassuring Ian, as suggested by the afterlife episode. Ian is, in turn, used to relying on MC’s support. MC was the one who would ask Ian’s mother if they could have sleepovers when he was too afraid to do it himself, for example.

Ian has had MC’s support for a long time - since they attended first grade together, which is typically 6-7 years of age in the USA. While we don’t know the exact age of MC and the love interests in the present, it is implied they are all college graduates, which likely puts them in around their early to mid-20s. That’s quite a long time they’ve known each other, no doubt spending a lot of time in each other’s company on a regular basis up until Ian left to study abroad.

When Ian left, he suddenly had to go without his greatest source of love and support in order to pursue his dream of becoming an actor. He had to move across the country where no one knew him and handle everything entirely on his own.

With someone as insecure as Ian, no doubt that possibility was terrifying to him.

However, Ian had gone through a “glow up.” He was no longer that “gross” kid who faded into the background; he was successful and handsome. No doubt he attracted quite a bit of positive attention from his peers, which he probably wasn’t used to.

Back in his hometown, Ian had MC by his side a lot of the time. Anyone who wanted to romantically or sexually peruse him could easily be dismissed with his partner right beside him.

But what about when they’re not around to comfort him? Sure, Ian can call MC when he feels insecure, but they’re not there to hold him when he needs it... or help him blow off steam when he gets horny. Long distance relationships are hard, and they can leave a person feeling very lonely...

What I think happened was that Ian started making friends with people at the school. He was inexperienced with socializing with others due to being bullied, and likely didn’t realize when he was being flirted with unless they were overtly obvious about it. Given his low self-esteem, it would be easy for him to assume they’re just being friendly.

It feels good too. It’s hard for someone with so much insecurity to not want to soak up such positive attention. Chances are Ian wasn’t used to it from so many people who aren’t MC. Suddenly, MC is not unique in liking him or finding him attractive.

MC was always there for Ian, reliable and supportive. Ian knows them very well. Unfortunately, this can also breed complacency, which leads to taking their relationship for granted. By contrast, these new people in his life are different, unfamiliar, and exciting.

Staying in his hometown with the same people all his life, depending on someone else, abused by his mother, Ian likely had his growth stifled in many ways, but now he was taking charge of his life for himself. He was chasing his dream, growing more social, expressing himself more in a place far outside his mother’s reach.

It would be easy to make friends at his new school where so many people his age are interested in pursuing an acting career like he is. From there he could even find those who share some of his other interests, like fashion, video games, and manga. Despite his fears, Ian flourishes in his new environment. He opens up to more people and gets closer to them in a way that he never could with people in his hometown who knew him when he was an awkward child.

What harm would it do to just enjoy having more friends for once? In fact, MC would likely encourage Ian to make friends and spend time with them. He shouldn’t have to be lonely; he should be having fun too. Unfortunately, MC is not there and thus would be unable to see when any of Ian’s new “friends” start crossing lines... or how Ian unintentionally starts crossing them himself.

Ian doesn’t want anyone to know he and MC are sexually active in the afterlife episode. He claims it’s not a secret, but at the same time he worries about MC saying anything. Does he talk about being in a relationship at all? Does he tell people MC is his partner or just his childhood friend?

In my personal headcanon, I want to give Ian the benefit of the doubt on this point and say that he did make it clear to his new school chums that he was in a relationship. Unfortunately, for some people, a committed relationship is just seen as a challenge to overcome, something that adds a bit of spice to the chase, or they simply think cheating is fine as long as the person they’re cheating on never finds out.

What I think happened to Ian was like fable about the frog not realizing the water in the pot is getting hotter until its boiled alive.

It started innocently enough with attention and time spent with people who liked him. There was the occasional flirtatious remark that went over his head, but any overt propositions were turned down. It slowly escalates as Ian makes friends. He gets used to making himself vulnerable with other people besides MC, gets used to touching them, opens up more around them... and likely starts realizing they’re attractive too.

This is when his mother’s abuse would kick in. Those thoughts would hit Ian with guilt like a sack of bricks. Was his “manhood” leading him to sinful thoughts? No, no, it couldn’t be. He is only attracted to MC! He only loves MC! He only wants MC!

But that’s because MC was his only option before, isn’t it?

(Apologies for cropping this picture, but tumblr will nuke my blog from orbit if I showed what Ian and MC are doing on the left side of the image.)

Publicly posted pictures from Sauce’s now deleted tumblr might be questionable when it comes to canon, but I find they can be useful to give insight into general character motivations and for building headcanons. I find it very telling that Ian almost makes it sound like simply being with MC was his second choice when compared to his dreams of stardom...

Ian keeps these new thrilling feelings a secret like the thing hidden underneath his bed. He buries these thoughts, denies he even has them. Unfortunately, that doesn’t mean those thoughts go away... especially not when he winds up spending time with the person or persons who spark these feelings in the first place.

Ian might try to avoid them to deny these feelings, but, oh, his avoiding them hurts their feelings, and he doesn’t want to do that! He apologizes, makes it up to them... and gets closer to them in spite of himself.

Things escalate from there. There’s more touching, more closeness, more deep intimate conversations deep into the night... some friendly cuddle time perhaps... Lines are crossed that he either denies were anything but innocent or perhaps he allows himself to believe them that they don’t mean anything even if they seem to mean more... Friends kiss sometimes too, right? The French greet each other with kisses in fact!

The French really know their kisses.

Eventually, one night when Ian is spending time with one of these friends, he finds himself really enjoying their company. He doesn’t feel lonely or miss MC as much. He barely thinks of MC, so distracted by his new exciting friend before him who makes him feel so good...

One thing leads to another. It’s a night of passion, of just feeling good and wanted.

After all, it’s not the first time Ian got swept up in his own pleasure when he was feeling horny. In his sex scene in the afterlife episode, he doesn’t let MC stop giving him a blowjob. First it’s by holding their head and giving puppy dog eyes, then he gets more forceful.

I wanted to look him in the eyes, but when I threatened to stop he only doubled down and gave a solid, deeper thrust. It was almost as if he was trying to remind me what I was to be doing.

Ian knows that he shouldn’t keep going if MC wants to stop, but, as he says...

“I-I’m so sorry I just…this is the first time you’ve gotten this far…and it really does feel good..”

It’s okay if he just apologizes, right? MC always forgives him when he wants things too much. It feels good and he doesn’t want to stop... MC will understand, they always do. They understand each other the most after all...

MC doesn’t even mind being used for sexual gratification after all.

It was like being used. And somewhere in the back of my mind, I didn’t care if he WAS using me.

Because Ian and MC love each other, it’s okay if Ian does what feels good, right? MC would want that for him. They won’t mind if they feel used. They won’t mind blacking out from lack of oxygen as long as he feels good. They won’t mind if he doesn’t reciprocate and gives them pleasure as long as he says how much he loves them and cuddles them afterwards.

They won’t mind if Ian thinks of himself first.

Then the post-nut clarity hits.

Ian might have convinced himself everything up until this point meant nothing when high off of hormones and attention, but after the excitement fades, the person in bed with him isn’t his partner. Maybe they’ll cuddle him, but they won’t say, “I love you.” He doesn’t mean that much to them. They’re not MC.

There’s nothing to justify what Ian did or distract him from the consequences - he cheated. He betrayed his partner for a cheap thrill.

There is no way to soften what Ian did. Even if he might not be religious like his mother, cheating is a sin far, far worse than simply having sex before marriage. It’s one of the big top ten sins!

It’s just like his mother told him - Ian was a sinful man who just wanted to satisfy his manhood with sex.

Ian can’t handle it, any of it. He immediately calls up MC to confess. It’s the only way to fix this. They’ll forgive him, they’ll understand. They forgive his mistakes. They know him. They’ll understand he didn’t mean it. They have to. It’s the only way he can live with himself.

Not even confessing his sins can stop his betrayal from scarring MC and destroying their self-esteem along with their relationship.

In the present, Ian is trying everything he can to get MC to forgive him. Due to MC’s money issues, he likely pays for half (or more) of the rent as a means of making amends for what he did, even if they’re broken up now. MC is a cheapskate who has to rely on cheap thrift store goods and borrowed or stolen clothes from their ex who hurt them.

Maybe that’s why Ian believes that getting a new job, one that likely offers fame and money, will somehow fix what he did. He has money and can buy a lot of video games, systems, and anime merch. His wallet is thick enough for MC to mistake his 8-inch erection for it, which suggests it’s full of money. He seems like he has enough money to spend on apologies too.

What’s worse is that Ian’s betrayal, and maybe even their relationship altogether, did severe damage to MC’s self-esteem.

When Jack shows up, MC resists the idea that they feel love towards him. While they are concerned about what Jack is and whether or not he’s real, they seem more deterred by the feeling that they don’t deserve the attention of someone who loves them.

I don’t feel like I really deserve that kind of attention…You know? It doesn’t feel natural to have somebody just…Ask you to consider that.

MC also doesn’t want to use Jack as an emotional crutch. Perhaps because they felt like they were once used that way by someone...

I feel for him...But something about this is too good. I won’t use him as a bandage, to cover up the feelings I don’t want to feel.

The only romantic relationship MC ever had was with Ian. They are still suffering from heartache by the time Jack shows up. They’ll turn Nick down regardless of whether or not they’ll agree to get in a relationship with Jack.

MC trusted Ian. They loved Ian. They wanted to be with him forever. Then Ian betrayed that promise of forever for a night of cheap lust. Maybe that was enough to destroy MC’s self-esteem to this degree, but I suspect their relationship wasn’t really all that sunny.

But Ian won’t give up. He won’t let MC go so easily. He won’t let them forget him or throw him away. He’ll keep calling them, reminding them of the good times and apologizing for the bad. He won’t let them move on. He’ll do whatever it takes to prove they’re meant to be together...

Ian did a lot of damage to MC. He has a hell of a lot to make up for, and it will take a lot more than just money and fame to fix things.

That’s about it for general theorizing that can apply to all MCs from the clues we’ve been given. I know this post has gotten kind of long, but since we’re on the subject, I’m going to touch on a few headcanons I have that specifically apply to Alice and Ian’s relationship. Just so you know, these headcanons may or may not be tweaked in the future before references appear in Sunshine in Hell.

The relationship between Alice and Ian wasn’t healthy. There were plenty of good times with smiles and love, but there were also problems that only grew more and more toxic as time went on.

Alice has done a lot to please Ian and support him. She felt very bad for the abuse he suffered under his mother and how stifled he was, so she bent over backwards for him, often giving more of herself than was reasonable.

Alice has never done well in front of crowds, but because Ian wanted to be an actor and she wanted to support him, she would participate in plays alongside him. She would help him practice his parts and got good at acting in her own right. Still, her dream was to join the animation industry, but when she struggled under some crappy overly critical art teachers, Ian convinced her to just try for an acting career with him instead.

If it didn’t work out, well, they could just be together.

When Alice dropped out of acting classes after her acting teacher advised her that the only parts she could play were fat, unpleasant characters who were the butt of jokes, it shook up Ian’s confidence as well. He worried he wouldn’t be good enough, or even just good looking enough, even if the teacher praised him in a way that they didn’t with her.

Although Alice felt insecure and ugly, Ian assured her he loved her and that was what counted, not what anyone else thought. Ian didn’t want to give up acting, but he considered it after what happened to her. She didn’t want him to give up on his dream, since she didn’t really want to be an actor to begin with and being on stage with so many people watching her made her feel uncomfortable, but she couldn’t tell him that or he would feel even worse.

Alice did a lot of things that made her uncomfortable for the sake of love.

What didn’t help Alice’s feelings of self worth were all of the husbandos and waifus Ian had. She always acted like they were no big deal, as they were just fictional crushes and she had some of her own while growing up. Unfortunately, she struggled to overlook certain common traits in his choices: large chests, thin waists, and overall conventional good looks.

Alice is chubby, with a pear shaped body that makes her hips and rear much bigger than her chest. No one would ever mistake her for an anime waifu, and she knew it.

It took Alice a while before she could handle getting sexual in their relationship. She suffered from SA as a teenager and had moments where she panicked, especially in certain positions or when being restrained without warning or means of escape.

Ian would feel miserable for triggering her trauma and would apologize profusely for it, blaming himself and thinking the absolute worst of himself. Alice, in turn, would feel guilty for turning something that was supposed to be an expression of love into something awful for the both of them. Moments that should have been just about expressing love physically just made Ian feel like an awful person instead, and she would need to reassure him that he wasn’t. It made her more determined to suppress her trauma and be more proactive when it came to physically intimacy for the sake of their love.

Alice loved Ian, and she was willing to do just about anything for him.

Ian was rough in bed once they got going, and Alice did her best to tolerate it. She focused instead on how flattering and exciting it was that the person she loved desired her to the point that he lost control over himself. She believed that noone else would ever feel this way about her but Ian. What they had was special, irreplaceable. She got better at not freaking out when he took away her control in the heat of passion. She tolerated choking until nearly passing out and the pain that would always come initially when being penetrated.

Neither of them had any point of reference for having sex besides sex education classes, experimenting with each other, and ecchi. In ecchi/hentai, the person on the bottom would almost always be in pain at the start of penetrative sex, particularly during their first time, but would feel good in the end. That was just how sex worked, right? Pain was just an unavoidable price to pay to feel pleasure and express their love physically, right?

Just a quick aside, no, sex is not supposed to be painful unless you want it to be. In that case, it’s BDSM, and it requires a lot of communication as well as safe words to do it in a healthy manner.

Ian never meant for Alice to feel bad. He just loved her so much that he got carried away in the moment, and he was so good at aftercare, which made up for any pain and panic. She adored how sweet he could be afterwards, so loving, kind, and cuddly, so she always reassure him that she was okay... even if she wasn’t really.

Alice learned to complain less and less over the years as she grew up with Ian because he was suffering from so much, and it felt like she had nowhere near as much to complain about. He would feel so miserable if she had a problem and he felt helpless that he could do anything about it. He was dealing with so much, she couldn’t bear to burden him with things that troubled her when he couldn’t handle it, not when he needed her support so badly. She had a big family who loved her and could support her, unlike Ian. Without her, Ian would have no one. He never meant to hurt her, and he always apologized when he did.

That was why, even after being cheated on, Alice tried to forgive Ian.

The woman Ian cheated with was gorgeous, thin, and had big breasts. She was someone who was far more forward and confident when it came to sex, so much more appealing than Alice was, at least in her opinion. She felt pangs of paranoia and jealousy towards this woman’s behavior towards Ian in pictures on their socials and how much he talked about her as well as others even before the affair, but she always managed to talk herself down from suspecting anything seriously. She trusted Ian. What they had was different, real. They knew each other for so long, far more intimately than anyone else. Their love was deeper than anyone could understand, and she believed him when he swore up and down that he only could ever want her romantically or sexually.

It was a mistake. Ian messed up. It’s just how it’s always been - he makes a mistake, apologizes sincerely, reassures Alice he loves her, and she would forgive him. He always has good intentions, he just is clumsy at times, makes mistakes. This was just another mistake.

Besides, it wasn’t like Alice was perfect either. She had a crush on that camp councilor when they were tweens, and it made Ian feel bad because he had been crushing on her while she was gushing about her crush to him, oblivious to his feelings. This was kind of how he felt back then, right? She was just experiencing it from the other side now. Something like this was just a passing fancy. They could recover from this, right? Right?

But they couldn’t. Trust had been broken. All the problems in their relationship that Alice overlooked because she trusted Ian and loved him came in sharp relief, made even worse now by his betrayal.

Alice really did try to make it work, but in the end, she realized, with the help of friends and family, that what she and Ian had wasn’t healthy. They were caught in a toxic cycle of hurt feelings and apologies, clinging to each other for the sake of “love” until their relationship had grown twisted and was slowly destroying both of them.

The hardest thing Alice ever had to do was end the relationship, and even then she cracked under the pressure of Ian’s crying and begging for her not to leave him. She softened it by saying that they were broken up “for now.” Right now things were too painful, too raw. They needed space to focus on themselves as individuals instead of as a couple. If there was any chance of them being together, they needed time apart to heal.

Unfortunately, Alice can’t imagine them getting back together, not when just the thought of Ian hurts like hell.

#Sunny Day Jack #Something's Wrong With Sunny Day Jack #SunnyDayJack #swwsdj #sdj #Headcanon Ramblings #Ask #Sauce-y Art

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