#where are the pinned ears and the mare squeal????
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étoile
When life becomes less busy for the Kings of the Alliance, Damen thought they might finally have some time to enjoy each other’s company. This is not what he envisioned.
Laurent first sees her running across the cobbled yard in front of the stables, chased by several harried men. It’s love at first sight.
Of course, it requires catching her first. Damen watches as he anchors himself deep in his saddle, snagging a trailing rein in one tight fist and heaving to pull her head around. The move sends a snorting confusion of horseflesh scattering across the courtyard but ends with him still astride, his own horse exchanging breath with a sweating chestnut whose saddle is sitting crooked on her back.
She’s a beauty with a finely fluted face, short strong cannons and pasterns, and a flaxen mane that stands against the dark liver of her coat. While Laurent’s horse, the one Damen gifted him, is always polite, she strikes and squeals, her shoe throwing sparks.
“Your majesty!” The horsemaster leading the charge pulls up, panting. “Apologies! She jumped the rail of the menage.” The limping stableboy behind him paints a picture of them parting company during or shortly prior.
“No matter,” Laurent says, passing the reins of the mare over. “One of Berenger’s, is she?”
“Yes, sire. A proper wild one, she is. Soon I’ll have run out of boys to put on her if she has her way about it.” The mare, as if to prove her point, pins her ears at the boy as he tentatively takes her bridle.
“What is she called?” Laurent asks.
Unexpectedly, the horsemaster - a bearded man of fifty with crow’s feet deeper than canyons - blushes. “Star, if it pleases you, sire.”
Laurent doesn’t comment on whether it pleases him or not, dismounting his horse and leading her back into her stable before handing her over to the groom. Damen does the same with his own, patting the stallion’s broad neck and allowing him the apple core he’s been carrying in the fold of his sash. His inquisitive whiskery lips gobble the treat eagerly and search Damen’s clothes for others while he’s there.
The escapee is led back to her own stable, pulling faces at the curious horses peering over their doors at her.
“Curious to name a horse with a blaze Star,” Laurent comments from where he’s leaning against the barn wall, ankles crossed. He’s watching her go.
“Curious,” Damen agrees without looking at the star pin at the breast of Laurent’s fine jacket, his one nod to the adornments expected of a king. Bright blonde hair and a winning temperament - it’s a wonder they don’t call her Princess.
*
“When I said that now things were quieter, perhaps we could do something together,” Damen says, “This wasn’t what I had in mind.”
Laurent’s expression says that no king could want for anything more than to be clinging to the side of a green mare like a burr. His eyes say to Damen in particular that he daren’t suggest otherwise. He wordlessly proffers his ankle, knee bent.
“Would you like me to kneel so you can use me as a stepstool instead?” Damen inquires.
“No,” Laurent says. “I need you to keep a hold of her bridle with your other hand.”
Damen has never broken in a horse. He spent his youth riding horses of varying temperament but only the best quality, and has seen a much greater variation in quality since meeting Laurent, all of which has only given him a conviction that it’s better to pay someone knowledgeable to do the job of training horses well than attempt to do it yourself poorly. Of course, Laurent has more experience in the field than Damen. Somehow that’s not a comfort.
“Am I about to see you thrown across the ring like the stableboys who’ve gone before you?” Damen asks, grasping the ankle anyway.
“Possibly,” Laurent allows. “On three?”
“If you die in a riding accident while I hold the reins, I’m going to be accused of treason.”
“...on three?”
“On three.” At least he made the attempt. “One, two -”
Laurent is easily boosted into the saddle, landing lightly astride. The mare, somewhat to Damen’s surprise, stands like a rock.
“Good girl,” Laurent says, stroking her neck. Her ear flickers back to listen to him. “Let her stand.”
“I’m impressed she is standing. I was of the impression that she flees at the mere threat of being ridden.”
“I suspect she’s cold-backed. Some are reactive to the weight of the saddle or a rider, particularly when they move. Keep a hold of her.” And with that, he puts his heels lightly to her sides to ask her forward.
It’s lucky he warns Damen, because the second the mare steps forward, it becomes clear that her stillness was not that of calm, but that of a large muscular animal prepared to launch. Her head drops between her knees and she explodes, all four feet off the ground. She attempts to plunge across the yard, only Damen’s grip keeping her turning in a tight circle.
She is athletic. Laurent, whose seat is famed across both Vere and Akielos and also several other countries who value blondes who ride well as much as Damen does, sits the first several bucks easily, and then the ones following after that less easily. The saddle, though girthed tight, is not suited for that degree of acrobatic feat, and begins to slip to the right.
Damen, who is strong, is less strong than a horse. The rein is wrenched from his hand and he hears himself make an alarmed sound at the idea of his lover, who happens to be a king, flung across the menage without his say so.
Laurent, in a whip-quick instance, throws a leg over and pushes himself free of the saddle. It’s clearly a planned maneuvre. Damen, whose mind has already seen Laurent hit the ground and roll to disperse the impact, finds himself instead with an arm around Laurent’s waist in a doomed attempt to catch him.
Some of the motion is arrested, but Laurent, though slighter than Damen, is moving at a tremendous pace and purposefully relaxed rather than stiff-kneed, and Damen is hardly braced appropriately. What would have likely been a skilled show of athletic ability and horsemanship is instead an uncontrolled fall onto the sand of the menage. Damen lands first, on his back: Laurent lands on top of him.
“I employed the right man for the job,” Laurent says in the stillness after the earth has stopped spinning. Damen, who has had the breath driven out of him, says nothing. The mare is still audibly cavorting close by, her desire to jump the fence and return to the stables halted by the cunning edition of an extra pair of railings to add height.
“You don’t pay me,” Damen wheezes, eventually. There’s a hand cautiously testing the integrity of his rib cage and he can’t enjoy it because there’s sand in his chiton. He sits up, swiping his hair from his face. Laurent looks very slightly repentant, though it could be Damen’s imagination. Mostly he looks pink-cheeked and dusty as he crouches on his heels at Damen’s side.
There’s a heave of breath like a sigh from nearby. The mare, given up on the idea of freedom, has wandered back over to investigate them. She looks sweet as honey with her ears pricked and her saddle now markedly crooked.
Laurent looks back at her, head tilted. “I see we have our work cut out for us.”
#captive prince#lamen#horse girl laurent#my fic#i haven't written in like two years but whatever have this dumb business#also i know nothing about how they broke horses in historically but i'm guessing it's the same as how we do it now#and i DO know how to break in a horse (i did it professionally for many years)#laurent has chestnut mare vibes
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Training Challenge #3
“Based on my experience on the beach the day before, I form a new plan.”
His parents hadn’t taken the news well. This was no surprise, considering he’d only managed to convince them he was keeping the ebony capall, that currently chuffed beseechingly at him for her breakfast, this long so as to sell her for more during the first week of October, when tourists and townsfolk alike would pay more than was reasonable for any horse, let alone one that looked at you more as dinner than a friend. Yet his name was now scrawled onto the Gratton’s chalkboard and beside it Saoirse, so despite their upset, there was nothing they could do now. They were racing.
He’d risen early this morning, early enough that the sun had yet to paint the sparse fields with morning light, and his father, a farmer all his life (with the schedule of one too) still snored soundly in the bedroom down the hall. Stealthily, Jaxom had stolen from the house to feed the dark predator that resided in their barn, and he watched her now as she swallowed, black muzzle stained crimson by the blood in her meal. It should have perturbed him, watching the capall as she ate, looking less and less like a horse with each passing day as the autumn ocean called to her, yet the man felt nothing but love blooming in his chest for the creature before him. She had crawled out of the sea for him, that much he was certain of.
As Saoirse finished her breakfast, he busied himself with preparing her tack, pulling out the bridle hung with red tassels and the sheepskin he used in place of a saddle from the small room at the side of the single stall barn. Technically, he wasn’t supposed to know how to ride – his parents had forbidden it, in the hopes of preventing him from association with the deadly capaill and the Races. However, his Aunt Gwennie, lover of island ponies and flouter of rules, had taught Jaxom when he was still a boy upon her own steady steed, encouraging and enabling until he’d become a passable rider. He’d never be one of the people who looked like they were born to ride, a seamless blend between horse and man – he lacked the physical awareness for it. He’d always been a little not at home in his body – while his peers had kicked balls and run around at school, Jaxom was lucky if he made it to the classroom door without tripping. Yet with Saorise, everything was different – when he was astride her, he felt right. Her legs felt like his own, and together he knew they could take on anything.
Yesterday Jaxom and Saoirse had merely observed the fray on the beach from the cliffs, his precocious mare squealing and pinning her slender ears in displeasure if any of the capaill down below had the audacity to look her way. That was why they made their way down so early today, attempting to avoid the crowds that would irritate the capall that now jigged beside him, the bells on her bridle jingling softly as she moved, anxious and excitable this close to the water. He shed his boots and the sheepskin on a boulder where they did not risk getting wet, and then barefooted he brought Saoirse down towards the beach.
Her curved ears pricked, attention turning toward the ocean, tension visible in the triangle of her eye and sharpness of her shoulder as she took a step towards the surf.
“Easy now beloved.” Jaxom soothed, using his free hand to trace gentle circles on her shoulder, the other holding the reins as if he didn’t believe she would pull away. Saoirse snorted and gave her head a toss as if shaking away the enchantment of the Scorpio Seas, turning her blue eyes back to the human before her. He smiled in return, bending down to cup a handful of sea water, sprinkling the salty wet across her dark hide. Playfully, the mare pawed at the sandy ground, spraying salt water and wet sand across both their legs. Laughing, Jaxom splashed at her in return, tossing his own head and snorting back at her. The mare straightened up, as if offended, then pranced a few more paces into the surf, forcing Jaxom to release his grip on her reins or get wet. He allowed her to drag him a few paces, until the freezing water lapped around his calves.
“Okay my love, that’s enough now.” He warned, turning her so she faced cliffside, away from the allure of the open ocean.
The ebony capall made a soft, sorrowful sound in return, peering at him beseechingly, the yearning in her heart present in every muscle. She wanted him to follow her into her own world, where the song of the ocean invigorated her every step. When he insisted, she reluctantly followed, thin black mane disappearing against her arched neck as the spray wetted it down.
He brought her back up to the boulder, where he redonned his boots and threw the sheepskin across her back, using the elevated stone surface to mount. She was slick and sinuous beneath him, one ear flicked to him but the other never leaving the ocean. The sun was starting to rise now, staining the beach and waters around them scarlet, a promise of carnage to come. Jaxom exhaled, Saoirse’s excitement filling his own body. Much to her chagrin he held her back, trotting and circling as the sun continued to rise, ensuring her body was soft and supple beneath him. Finally, as the red light of sunrise melted into the softer glow of daylight he let her loose, and together they ran.
@thescorpioracesfestival
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My One And Only - Chapter 13
Previous | Next | Master List
So this chapter is probably as long as the first, maybe just a word or two longer idk idk. This story here has nearly caught up where I am right now so the updates will be less frequen, I’m also starting school again so yeah. The one-shot that I’m writing is nearly at 10k words and it’s not even that good-
"God, you really are an Angel". The blush on her face was very noticeable. She smiled at him before using her yo-yo to bring her to the akumatized victim. He watched as her silhouette jumped from rooftop to rooftop. Once she was out of sight, Damian looked back at the sunset. He chuckled to himself. "I guess when you bumped into me the other day, you gave me some of your Lady Luck".
———————————————————
"Wait wait wait, take two steps back." Chloe put both her hands up in confusion. "So you went to Andre's and what were the flavors that she got?"
"She got dark honey, lime and rose" Kagami answered.
"But he never explained the meaning behind them, which he always does" Alya added. Alya, Chloe and Kagami were in the blonde's room talking about the ice cream 'date' they went on with Marinette the other day.
"That reminds me, Alya?" Kagami asked. "Do you still think the ice cream represents Chat Noir?"
Chloe just blinked in surprise. "No, I met the guy recently" Alya replied. "He's perfect for her. Actually I should text him to see how Mari's doing" Alya took her phone out as Kagami nodded slowly. Chloe still looked like she was trying to wrap her head around the whole situation.
"So Mare-Bare has a crush on this 'foreign exchange student' and Alya met him the other day?" Kagami nodded, slightly amused at the blonde's confusion. "Do you think he likes her back?" Her question was both directed at Kagami and Alya who was still on her phone.
"Yeah I'm sure he does- wait he sent something" Alya let out a squeal of fangirlism as Chloe and Kagami went over to see what Alya was gushing over. Once the two girls came over, The reporter showed them a photo that got sent to her. It was Marinette, sound asleep on what Kagami and Chloe thought was the boy's chest. She was smiling and looked at peace.
"They look adorable~" Chloe cooed, having the same bright smile as Alya.
"He better not hurt Mari-hime" Kagami muttered, a soft smile appearing on her face as she looked at the photo.
~~~
"Pound it!"
Ladybug and Chat Noir managed to defeat the villain, it was Sandboy again. He was at a sleepover and some of his friends told a scary story, and the rest was common knowledge. Ladybug was about to yo-yo out of there but Chat Noir stopped her before she could do so.
"Ladybug, wait"
'This can't be good, he barely ever sounds this serious' She wrapped the yo-yo back around her waist before answer. "Kitty, is something wrong?"
"Well-" he was cut-off by the sound of his miraculous beeping.
"We can talk about this next time, ok?". After he hesitantly nodded, Ladybug got her yo-yo. "Bug out!"
She landed in an alley near Le Grand Paris and de-transformed. Marinette then took the opportunity to process what happened. 'Lila said something bad, I got upset, I went to Damian's, He took me on a walk, We kissed, He asked me to be his girlfriend, I showed him I was Ladybug, I-' her train of thoughts stoppped. "Oh my god, I told him I was Ladybug" she breathed. Her kwami then flew in front of her face. "OhmygodohmygodiamsososososorryTikkiididn'tmean-"
"It's perfectly fine Marinette!" The bluenette was was cut off by Tikki's giggling. "There's something about that lover of yours, I can't quite place it but I know we can trust him"
Marinette blushed at Tikki's words but nodded. "Y-yeah, thanks Tikki".
The bluenette soon reached the hotel door that was all too familiar to her now, her face reddened slightly at the thought. She still let herself in though, making sure to lock the door behind her. When she had closed the door, she noticed her demon reading on the sofa, he put his book down as he noticed Marinette walk in. She walked over and stood behind the sofa, looking down on Damian as because she was standing, she was taller. He looked up and smirked at her.
"You know," her boyfriend began. "I had high suspicions of you being Ladybug, though, I couldn't be certain."
"How come your suspicions were so high?" Marinette asked, still smiling.
"Well when you're a vigilante yourself, I suppose it can be easier to pin point others' secret identities"
She smiled while rolling her eyes and kissed his forehead. She seemed tired and Damian made a mental note to tell her again later when she was more energized. Marinette then went to sit in the sofa and snuggle into Damian's muscular chest.
"Don't you have questions?" She murmured, she was too comfortable to move her head up.
"I do but they can wait" Damian stroked his fingers through his angel's hair. 'My Angel...' "You're tired"
"I'm not-" her yawn contradicted the words that were about to leave her lips and she grumbled in annoyance while Damian chuckled. "If I do sleep wake me up before 9, Maman and Papa are going to the airport and I want to say goodbye"
Damian remembered that Marinette's parents would be going to Marseille for around a week, they were going to open up a second location there as they had become well known in that part of the country. "Alright" he softly answered, he assumed that Marinette had fallen asleep already and his assumption was correct when he felt her slow and steady breathing. At that moment he got a message on his phone, a message from Alya. She was asking about Marinette's current predicament and Damian sent a picture of Marinette sleeping soundly, a smile on her face. He wasn't purposely trying to stay out of the frame but he wasn't in it either way.
Me: She's doing much better than earlier today, it would be best if Marinette would be the one to address what was wrong
Césaire: Oh ok, I'm glad she's feeling better
Césaire: u 2 look adorable af tho
If he blushed at that comment, no one would know. Damian put his phone down to look at his sleeping Angel. He smiled to himself and picked the bluenette up bridal style. He brought her to his bed and tucked her in to let her sleep, not before planting a kiss on her forehead, though. Damian focused his vision on the digital clock on the nightstand. '7:47 I'll let Marinette sleep until 9' His thoughts were interrupted by a small, squeaky voice.
"Damian"
His head quickly turned in the direction of the voice. 'I swear I didn't hear anyone else enter-' Damian had to blink twice. In front of him was a small, red, bug-like creature. 'What the fu-'
"Damian my name is Tikki, I am Marinette's kwami" she held her tiny arm out and Damian hastily lifted on of his finger's for the kwami to shake, he didn't know what else to do if he was being honest. "I understand that you have questions so you may ask some now, though, I understand if there are some you would like to ask her personally"
He nodded. "What....what is a kwami?" He asked hesitantly, not wanting to offend the kwami and still trying to get a hold of this new information.
"A kwami is, I guess, a miniature god that lives inside of a miraculous. The kwami is what gives the user's miraculous their powers as well as their hero costume. A miraculous is a piece of jewelry that grants the user powers. Marinette's miraculous is the Miraculous of the Laadybug, the earrings. They give her the power of Creation and Good luck" Damian nodded slowly, now back sitting on the couch. "Marinette in trusted you with her secret identity, I sense that I can trust you as well but I want to you to promise to keep her identity a secret, unless she says otherwise"
"Don't worry I will, I of all people should know the importance of keeping a secret identity a secret"
"You're a superhero?" Tikki questioned, not hearing what Damian told Marinette earlier
"Vigilante" he corrected.
"I guess that's why you have a trusting aura" Tikki pondered. "Thank you Damian, for making Marinette so happy"
"Anything to make her smile"
~~~
"Habibti, it's time to wake up" Damian gently shook Marinette's shoulder.
".......nnwhy" Marinette buried her face further into the pillow.
"You said you wanted to see your parents go to the airport, correct?"
"Oh right!" She jumped out of bed, any signs of tiredness was now gone. Damian chuckled slightly and moved towards her, he brought the ribbon he had taken earlier and put her hair back up in a ponytail. "Thanks!" She exclaimed after looking in the mirror. "I know I said I would explain everything but can I do that after we say goodbye to my parents?"
"Of course Angel"
She smiled brightly and the two walked out of the hotel to her parents' bakery, their arms linked together. As they arrived, they noticed two figures with bags and a taxi with it's boot open.
"Maman, Papa we came to say goodbye" Marinette walked over to her parents with Damian by her side, tilting her head slightly in confusion as they both smiled smugly at the couple.
"You came earlier than we thought you would Marinette and hello again...Damian is it?" Marinette's mother asked.
"Yes it is, it's a pleasure to meet you Mr Dupain, Mrs Cheng"
"No need for formalities son, Tom and Sabine" Tom said, giving Damian a bone-crushing hug.
"Papa!"
"Tom, dear, we don't want to suffocate the poor boy"
"Oh right!" Tom then put Damian down. "Is it safe to say that I assume you are Marinette's boyfriend?" The man asked, looking very joyfully at the blushing couple.
"Y-yeah" Damian murmured while Marinette nodded and both parents shot them big smiles.
"We were debating when that was going to happen" Sabine admitted with a shrug.
"Maman!"
"Oh would you look at the time, we better get going" Sabine smiled smugly, ignoring her daughter's protest. Both her and Tom engulfed Marinette in a hug and beckoned Damian to join in.
"Bye Maman, Bye Papa!"
"Goodbye Sabine, Goodbye Tom"
The couple watched the taxi leave for the airport, they stood in comfortable silence.
"So should I explain everything now? I can sleep over at your place if you want all the details" Marinette asked, blushing slightly at what she just said.
Damian realised that she was referring to sleeping over in his hotel room, honestly, he didn't mind. "If you want to"
"Great! Wait here I'll get my things"
~~~
"...and you're Multimouse too?" Damian continued after Marinette nodded. "Wow, that is...a considerable amount of information. And you called Tikki a 'bug-mouse'?" He chuckled amused at the flushed face his girlfriend now had.
"It was one time! The first time I saw her! Do you think I would have acted any differently?" She pouted and Damian took the opportunity to kiss her. He then got up to look at the time, smirking as he noticed the flushed bluenette in his peripheral vision. "Also, how did you work out that I was Ladybug?"
"For starters, I researched her- well, you and I couldn't help but notice how similar you two were, in build and personality. From there I just connected the dots"
"Huh, usually there's magic that prevents others from noticing things like that but it didn't work on you for some odd reason. That's- wait" she paused and blinked and then looked straight in Damian's eyes. Before he could voice out his confusion, she spoke again. "Did- did you just...make a pun?"
His forest green eyes widened "...no"
She laughed for a good while, especially when seeing the look on Damian's face. After she composed herself, she changed the subject. "Now it's your turn to explain, Shaytan"
"Hm alright, are you familiar with the vigilantes in Gotham?" He asked.
"The Bat-family? Are you one of Batman's comrades?" Marinette looked up at her boyfriend, wide-eyed with fascination like a child's. Damian couldn't help but melt at her expression.
"Yes and yes, my vigilante persona is known as-" he was about to tell her that he was Robin before she cut him off.
"Wait can I take a guess" Damian gestured her to do so. "Hmmmm considering your age, my options are narrowed down to one of the Batboys. Looking at your build I'd say that you are..Robin!" She said his name with great certainty.
He clapped while smiling. "You are correct, yet again"
"I'm surprised though, you don't seem like the type to be a traffic light" she teased.
"Tt, stop rubbing more salt in the wound" he groaned.
Marinette giggled. "So your brothers are the other Robins and your father is Batman, I presume?" Damian nodded. "Wow...who knew that two heroes from different places would fall in love?"
"I suppose I did" He looked at the clock again, it was 11:58. "It's getting late"
Marinette followed his vision to the clock. "Huh, I didn't even realise that the time flew by so quickly" she then got up to rearrange some of the pillows on the couch.
"What are you doing?" He asked, confused.
The bluenette looked at him, also confused. "I'm sleeping on the couch, right?"
"You can sleep on the bed, you are the guest after all. I can sleep on the couch"
"No, couldn't possibly! It's your room!"
The bickering went back and forth between the two while Tikki watched in amusement. 'If Plagg were here, he'd only add more fuel to the fire'. Most could argue that the relationship between the couple was moving too quickly but Tikki knew otherwise. The magic of the miraculous was at work. Only the true holders of the Ladybug miraculous and the miraculous of the Black Cat would be affected. That isn't always the case though, they would only be attracted to one another if the feelings they had were romantic and mutual. To most, it would appear that they were moving too quickly. But for the kwami, it was just a sign that the two true holders were found, and they were found together. 'I do have to tell Plagg, though'. Then the small kwami got an idea. "Why don't you both just sleep on the bed?"
The two then turned to Tikki, both faces were red but Marinette's shone through the most. The small kwami merely had an innocent smile on her face.
"...I-I guess that's manageable" Damian murmured.
"O-ok" Marinette mumbled, clearly too flushed for her own good.
~~~
"Alright Mari-bear, spill the beans"
Marinette had breakfast at Damian's before going home to change, she had to meet Jagged and Penny again to record and to discuss the name of the song because, for whatever reason, they hadn't done that yet. After, she promised that she would hang out with Alya, Chloe and Kagami in the blonde's room but she didn't expect to be interrogated. She briefly sugar-coated what Lie-la did and said, luckily her friends took the hint that she didn't want to talk about it. She also gained a new nickname, or a variant of one. Marinette noticed how Chloe interchangeably used 'Mare-Bare' and 'Mari-Bear' but they were more or less the same thing.
"Wha-" They all gave made a knowing face, the 'you know what I mean' face. She let out a defeated sigh. "S-so um...yesterday he asked me to be his girlfriend". The bluenette prepared herself for whatever was going to happen next, what followed was an ungodly amount of fangirl squeals. Even Kagami seemed to let one out.
"You said yes, right?" Kagami asked with a joyful tone. Marinette nodded. "So what's his full name?"
Marinette took a deep breath. "Queenie, do you keep track of who is staying in the hotel?"
"I guess" The blonde replied, glancing at her nails. "Why'd you ask?"
"Well, he's staying in room 301"
"Hm...that's one of the expensive rooms so that means-" Chloe let out a gasp of realisation. "No fucking way! How-" she then bursted out laughing, Marinette giggled as well.
"You lost me" Kagami looked between the two while Alya just shrugged her shoulders.
"Mari, Damian Wayne is your boyfriend? How you managed to thaw the Ice prince of Gotham's heart I will never know, only you Dupain-Cheng" Chloe, now recovering from laughing, was now looking at Marinette with admiration and interest.
"Wait, THE Damian Wayne?!" Alya gaped at Marinette.
"Y-yeah" The bluenette stammered and tried to hide her blush with her hands
"What's he like?"
"Is he as cold as they all say?"
"Does he treat you right?"
Marinette was bombarded with many questions regarding Damian. She struggled to keep up with each and every one of them. 'Is this what it feels like to be inundated by paparazzi?' She thought teasingly.
~~~
It was around noon. A spotted heroine jumped from roof top to roof top. She had just finished her patrol and was headed towards the Eiffel Tower, Chat Noir wanted to talk to her about something. He seemed serious too. Ladybug was slightly concerned for her friend, seeing Chat Noir act serious was a very rare sight. She voiced her concerns to Damian before she went out on patrol.
"You said he values your friendship, correct? In that case he probably wants to shelter you from whatever information he stumbled upon"
Marinette jokingly scoffed. "I'm not a damsel in need of protection thank you very much"
Damian smiled and hugged Marinette from behind while resting his chin on her head. "I know Angel, I know. That won't stop me from protecting you though"
Ladybug used her yo-yo as a grappling hook and landed gracefully on the top floor of the Eiffel Tower. Not surprisingly, Chat Noir was already there, waiting for her.
"Kitty?" The spotted heroine asked after a short moment of silence. "Is everything okay?"
The cat-themed hero sat on the floor, Ladybug sat in front of him and after a big breath, he spoke. "Ladybug, I- I don't think I'm the true holder of the Black Cat miraculous"
———
Taglist: @little-bluestar, @miracleofadisaster, @frieddonutsweets, @jjmjjktth, @genderfluidmoma, @starlit-dreaming, @icerosecrystal, @lolieg, @kashlyn, @mochegato, @eggadoodle, @walkingthroughonautopilot, @toodaloo-kangaroo
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Burdened by the Stars - Pt. 2
Part 1 - MasterList
I am having so much fun writing this story so far. I had a bit of a struggle to figure out how I wanted it to go, but I think I’ve got that down now. And so it’s getting a bit easier. I hope you guys love this part as much as I do, because it has some returning characters.
I’ve already got most of the next chapter written, so I might post it 12/24 or so if I have enough interest and get far enough along to continue to be ahead of myself.
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We reached the outer walls of the goblin city an hour or two shy of nightfall, and I heard the trumpets announcing our approach as the gates swung wide. I smiled eagerly, and spurred my mount into a graceful canter through the streets of the outer city. The majority was below ground and deep into the mountainside, but since the signing of the Peace Treaty between the Kingdoms somewhere around a dozen years before, the goblins had set up a trade haven here on the surface. During the day, the streets were often bustling, but with night fast approaching and temperatures dropping they had a quiet air of productivity about them now. A mixture of goblins spattered with the occasional human were closing up shop as I rode, and I heard a few happy cries of greeting and murmurs of excitement when they recognized me as I passed them by. My hair billowed and bounced out wildly behind me, and I offered a friendly wave to the merchants and shoppers who greeted me as I left the royal carriage far behind and rode up the slope to the castle proper.
Those gates opened as well without delay, and the echo of my horse’s hooves clattered about the cobblestones. A herald darted from one side doorway, quickly straightening his tunic. He had only half my name out before I passed him, and he gave a tiny puff of air as he realized the pointlessness of his loud announcement of my arrival was overshadowed by the racket of hooves. But news certainly did travel fast here regardless. It had only been maybe ten minutes since I had first crossed the threshold of the outer city, and already someone was waiting for me at the top of the long, shallow steps. I pulled up my mare short before the wide stairs of the main doors at the head of the courtyard, and my smile grew at the familiar figure I saw standing before them with his shoulders squared and his hands clasped behind his pin-straight back.
I called out to him loudly with a cheery greeting, already swinging out of the saddle before my mount had come to a full stop. A few attendants rushed forward, and I passed her reins over with a kind word of thanks to them and a pat to her thick neck.
The second eldest of our family looked down at me with a slightly exasperated expression. It could be hard to tell with him sometimes; like our oldest brother, he tended to conceal most of his emotions beneath a stony façade. Remnants of a childhood with our strict father, I had been told, though I recalled only very little of that time myself. Not to mention that the etiquette of human court still aired towards a more stoic and reserved composure. But I knew both my brothers well enough to read the tiny changes which denoted their thoughts behind their masks. So I already knew King Nikostratus was not particularly pleased to see me on his doorstep that evening even before he spoke.
“Chickadee, what are you doing here?” He exclaimed as I skipped up the steps to him. “Valerianus assured me he would send word ahead for when to expect you.”
Despite the scolding edge to his voice, he enveloped me in a warm hug when I reached him. It had been more than three months since we had last seen each other after all, though of course we wrote to each other regularly. I forgot how much I had missed him myself until I was firmly enveloped in his arms and his familiar scent. I saw his expression had softened a little by the time I pulled back, and he fondly pushed my hair out of my face as he must have done a million times before.
“The roads were perfectly clear, Niko!” I told him, not fighting his fussing over my wild locks. “I don’t know what Val was waiting for, but I got tired of waiting for it.”
“Please tell me you at least informed our brother you were leaving?” He bemoaned, a slight frown pinching at his brow. I gave him a tiny, sheepish grin, and he sighed heavily in defeat. Gesturing over an attendant. “Morgana, you cannot just ride back and forth across the countryside whenever you very well feel like it. You are a Princess for goodness sakes. It’s dangerous!”
“But Niko-!”
“Auntie Gana!” Came a shouting chorus of gleeful voices from behind my brother in the castle, interrupting his reprimanding and my planned defense.
I dropped to one knee with a returning grin as two of my nephews and one of my nieces sprinted into my arms. They very nearly knocked me over with their combined weight, and I laughed as I fell back onto my bottom.
“My goodness!” I gasped. “Look at how you’ve all grown! Izaak, is that you?? I can barely recognize you! And Lorette! You’ve grown your hair so long!”
I scooped up their youngest, Viktor, into my arms as his remained stubbornly latched around my neck. The other two let me unwrap them so I could stand once more, but clung to my legs and tunic excitedly. I vaguely overheard my brother giving instructions to the attendant to send word to Val about my surprise but safe arrival. I placed a hand on Izaak’s head, scruffing the eleven year old’s hair. He pushed my hand away with a soft yelp and a fussing word before quickly working to smooth out the messy blonde curls as best he could. Lorette tugged on my shirt.
“Auntie Gana, are you here for the rest of winter now?” She asked eagerly.
I looked up at Niko, raising one eyebrow pointedly. I heard the creak of the carriage arriving in the courtyard, followed by the click of its doors as my Ladies emerged from within. My brother looked over at it, then gave another heavy sigh, shaking his head.
“Honestly, chickadee, I should send you straight back.” He told me, but belittled his words by turning and leading the way into the castle proper. “This behavior is absolutely unacceptable and-”
“Ah, I thought I heard the trumpets! And look who’s come to call!” Came a cheery voice, interrupting us for a second time. We turned as a group to face the goblin King as he strode down the hall with an excited skip in his step. “Finally! I thought our little bird might just end up staying south for the winter this year!”
Viktor wriggled to be released at the sight of his father, squealing with delight. I put the four year old on the ground to sprint over to the King next, who scooped him back up with a small touch of difficulty. Even at four, the little human boy was starting to outgrow his tiny 5’2 foot goblin parent. But if the weight bothered him, the goblin King didn’t let it show, sauntering over with a toothy grin and his son perched on one hip.
“Grier, thank goodness,” I greeted him, giving my brother’s husband a warm and grateful smile of relief, “Just in time to talk some sense into Niko! He wants to send me back!”
“Send her back??” Exclaimed Grier, his brow shooting up as he looked over at Niko. “Whatever for?? She just got here!”
His voice was full of his usual vibrant lightness, and it echoed about the large hallway around us. I felt like I was floating on air at its sound. I loved the vibrancy of the goblin kingdom, especially compared to the solemn human court of Geriveria, and that vivacity was in no small part due to its monarchs. It always made me feel so happy to see both of them, though it might be hard to see how they were compatible at all at first glance. Where my brother was soft spoken, stoic, and as unreadable as stone, his husband was everything the opposite. Grier was flamboyant, loud, and wore his emotions on his sleeves for everyone to see. While Niko wore dark solid coats with sensible black or grey pants and subdued gold buttons, Grier wore loud prints, usually several of them at once, with strange cuts, frills, and styles. His long blonde hair was absolutely wild in contrast to Niko’s short cropped black. He wore bangles and bobbles and earrings, where the most my brother ever wore was a decorative belt or a ceremonial sword at his hip. One would be hard pressed to find a more unalike pair of men. But one would be equally hard pressed to find a pair that somehow worked as well together as they did. Or made each other half as happy.
Niko gave Grier a look which equaled the same level of exasperation he had given me just a few moments prior. “She snuck out of the castle, again,” he told him, his voice as level and smooth as always but hinting at his frustration around the edges, “She didn’t inform King Valerianus she was leaving. And she didn’t send word ahead.” His hazel eyes shot back to me, narrowing slightly. “What if something had happened to her on the road? We would never have known until it was far too late.”
I took the scolding with a slightly bowed head, biting my tongue, and even Izaak and Lorette hid behind my legs with the sternness of my brother’s voice. Perhaps out of sympathy; I was sure they had heard that tone more than once themselves. It had the quality of making one feel not fearful of punishment, but instead horribly guilty for their actions. And longing to correct whatever disappointment one had inadvertently fostered. I rested a hand on each of their heads reassuringly.
Grier, however, seemed unaffected by the tone, and waved his free hand with a loud scoff that echoed about the stone hall. “Nonsense! She’s here safe now, and that’s all that matters, isn’t it?” He nudged his husband with his elbow. “Let the girl be, Nikostratus. I’m sure she’s learned her lesson and won’t ever scare you like that again.” His scarlet eyes flicked to me, and his slender brows raised high. “Right, little bird? Certainly your brothers have enough to worry about?”
I nodded solemnly, silently thankful for his intervention. Otherwise the lecture might have continued all night. “Yes, you’re right.” I glanced over at Niko. “I’m sorry, Niko, I didn’t mean to scare you. I promise I won’t do it again.”
“See there? No harm done.” Grier shifted his grip on Viktor, cocking one brow at Nikostratus. “What do you think then?”
My brother gave another long, deep sigh, shaking his head. He considered the goblin for a moment, then I saw his hazel eyes flick down to the children at my knees. I saw the sternness lift from his features again, and Izaak released my leg to move over and stand at his side with a shy smile.
“I suppose I am outnumbered.” He mused, sounding almost indifferent to the fact as he tenderly smoothed Izaak’s hair behind one ear. But then lifted a scolding finger to point at me. “Just this once, I’ll let it go. But never again, chickadee.” He warned.
Grier was already grinning wide before I could offer a response. “Excellent! I’m so happy that’s settled!” He turned to me. “You are just in time for dinner! Would you like to go to your rooms to wash up before? You’ll have to forgive the state of them, we didn’t have a chance to have them fully prepared for your arrival.” He gave a friendly wave to Safa and Lisbet over my shoulder. “I’m sure your Ladies might be able to help to that end, and would remember where everything is should you require aid.”
I smiled back at him. “I should change at the very least. I probably stink of horse.”
That made the goblin laugh, and he hoisted his youngest over one shoulder so that he squealed with delight as well. “You can’t be any worse than these little beasties of ours!”
His words had Izaak and Lorette giggling as well.
“Inunu! I took a bath today! I don’t stink at all!” Lorette proclaimed, going over to wrap herself around his leg. “Izaak is the smelly one! Boys are always smelly!”
“I am not!” He whined angrily, stamping one little foot at his sister. “I take a bath everyday! Right, papa?”
“I know you do, Izaak. You smell wonderful, of course.” Niko reassured him, gently tucking his fingers under his little pointed chin briefly.
“Where are all the rest of the little beasties then?” I asked, looking around as we made our way down the main hall. “Or perhaps I should just follow my nose?”
“Oh, they’re around here somewhere, getting into mischief I am sure.” Grier replied, waving his hand about errantly as his present children burst into a fresh set of giggles at my teasing. “They’ll be down for dinner, gods know they are always hungry.”
“Chickadee,” my brother began as the two older children sprinted off down the hallway ahead of us, bickering amid themselves, “What made you leave without telling Valerianus? That’s not like you, and you know he worries-”
I groaned, shaking my head. “Come on, Niko.” I grumbled, surprised to find myself quite irritated at his prying. “I’ve only been here two minutes! Can’t the nosy brother act wait until later? I’ve got to go get washed up for dinner.”
He looked slightly appalled by my words. “But-”
“I’m here all winter,” I reminded him before he could finish, hopefully curtailing the conversation successfully again, “We’ll have plenty of time to catch up. Right now, I want to go get out of these clothes. Plus I’m famished! And I still haven’t seen Corwin and the twins yet!”
I saw him open his mouth to speak again, and darted over before he could. Springing to the tips of my toes and wrapping my arms around him for a quick hug. His response sputtered on his lips, and I used the opportunity to dart away, my Ladies trailing as fast as they could behind me, hiding their own giggles behind gloved hands. His words had struck a chord of guilt in me that had nothing to do with how I had left without telling Valerianus, and my Ladies’ giggles had me flushing a little darker... I certainly did not want to remember the strange visitor that had driven me out of Geriveria’s castle. But couldn’t help lingering on the thought of him, as he had come unbidden to my thoughts anyways… I wondered if he had anyone to worry about him…
“Was she always this difficult?” I heard my brother mumble softly as I made my way to the nearest stairwell to head to my tower rooms. “I swear, I don’t remember having this much trouble with her when she was little.”
“She’s always been trouble.” I heard Grier chuckle quietly in response. “But she’s all grown up now, Nikostratus. You can’t keep her a little girl forever.”
Another sigh. “... Perhaps if you cast that time spell on her...”
The goblin King’s laughter followed us the rest of the way up the stairs.
...
I sighed deeply, kicking about the powdery snow with my boots as I trudged over to set up my targets by the riverbed again. The forests were quiet this time of year, and a lingering storm from the night before crunched fresh snow underfoot as I moved. I didn’t bother to walk with a lighter step; it didn’t matter. I wasn’t far enough away from the outer castle wall to be in danger, nor was I trying to be particularly stealthy to hide from the old bottles I had brought along for target practice. I didn’t suppose they would much care if I were upwind or down. The forests surrounding the castle were at a high enough altitude that they were mostly inaccessible to anyone coming from beyond the kingdom borders, though it ran alongside the main road in places. I could be alone, but wouldn’t run into any patrols. And was close enough to return with haste should I hear the distinctive alarm bells that signified my absence had been noticed.
Not that it should be today, though perhaps Safa and Lisbet would be looking for me at the castle. I had given them and everyone else the slip that morning when I had left without a word. Tired of their prying and longing for some time alone. I doubted they would spend much time looking for me; I had long outgrown any need for chaperones or nursemaids. Their positions as my Ladies were mostly ceremonial. Occasionally they would help me dress (for my more elaborate and highly disdained ensembles) and they made sure my chambers were kept neat. Otherwise, their only other responsibility was keeping me company. As of late I had pushed for them to take more time for themselves, and they had reluctantly agreed. Giving me long afternoons or sometimes almost full days to myself. They would likely think today no different.
As I collected the bottles and set them back on the fallen tree, I couldn’t help my thoughts wandering again. As they had frequently over the past few days since my arrival at the goblin castle. And Niko’s pestering desire to speak to me had not made my stay any easier. Luckily, he was King after all, and his Royal duties kept him pretty busy. Add that to the overall huge size of the castle, and it was pretty easy to avoid him. Especially as he had quite the knack for getting very lost in its halls without a proper guide. Honestly, I wasn’t sure how he had managed to call the castle his home for the last decade and still not know how to get from the dining hall to his own bedroom without getting lost. But as it was to my advantage this time, I decided to take it as a blessing.
It was my only blessing at the moment, as it seemed my conscience was weighing rather heavily on me. Every time I had even a breath without something to occupy it, my mind raced to the thought of the strange half-orc I had met in the palace gardens of Geriveria. The sky was as dark as my thoughts as I fretted and worried over him. Was he alright? Had I sent him to his death? Certainly, the trek to the crags of Almayit was not an easy one in fair weather, let alone in the deep of winter. Or so I had been told. And the forests of Pyejara? I had read such stories of the beasts that lurked there. I shivered, both against the chill that had descended upon the world with a vengeance for the mild weather days that had preceded it, and for the thought of that fool orc lost somewhere, perhaps in the rocky outcropping. My mind supplied ample visions of misfortune for the poor fellow, to which my stubbornness gave offhanded replies that only left me feeling a little guiltier. His shoulders were bare, and it’s been so cold! Well, then he should have worn a cloak. The footing there is hazardous, what if he twists his ankle out there all alone? Then he shouldn’t have gone alone. I did warn him it was a dangerous place. If he got hurt or lost, it was his own fool fault! Especially for having taken the word of a woman he had just met, after all!
Still, I couldn’t help my thoughts wandering to him, even now as I set my targets and stared at the icy cold water of the small riverbed. I wished perhaps I hadn’t been quite so impulsive and brash. Surely there were other ways to rid myself of a pesky suitor, orc or otherwise. I could have simply told him the truth; that there was no way in hell I was getting married. That was not the path for me, nor had it ever even remotely interested me. I had never fawned over fairytales of true love, or imagined myself a Queen of anywhere. I didn’t want to be some polished princess set on a sparkling throne and no more useful than a flower painted on a wall. I didn’t want to be seen as a reward, or a trophy wife. And I certainly didn’t want to stay in one place for the rest of my life. It may have been a perfect and happy ideal for my brothers, but I had loftier goals for myself.
I paused, thumbing the bowstring thoughtfully. I welcomed the change as my thoughts shifted to wondering how much longer I would have to wait for my own adventure to start. I had spent my life reading about them, or prying them from travelers and merchants. How did one start these things anyways? In the stories, there was always a catalyst. Something that came along to change the main character’s routine. I wondered what mine would be, or if I could in some way instigate it. Perhaps I needed to simply leave. Pack a saddle and go out into the world. I felt the itch of it in my palms, the biting urge in my legs. I imagined with glee the freedom of the open road, of wandering wherever I wished without the binds of my title weighing me down. Out in the world where no one knew nor cared who I was or where I had come from...
Grier had always said there was a natural magic to the world. When I was little, I used to get jealous of the way he could snap his fingers, mutter a word, and simply manipulate the world around him. I poured over the spell books that I managed to sneak out of the royal library, trying my hardest to understand why it worked for him and the other goblins but not for me. When my efforts had been discovered, when Niko had tried to explain to little twelve year old me that humans weren’t able to learn magic... I had been mad; mad at Niko. Mad at Grier. Mad at magic for refusing me, even though I wanted it so much and tried so hard.
Then Grier had taken me to the side and in that soft way he was so good at, said something to me that stuck solidly in my mind even to this day. So much so that I could hear it now as clearly as if he were standing beside me speaking the words anew.
“Magic does not exist to be bent to our will.” He had told me, handing me a handkerchief to wipe at my tear stained cheeks. “It is not made to be commanded about; it has a will of its own.”
“But you command it!” I had argued.
He then shook his head. “I ask of it, and it accepts.” He had replied. “It is a partnership, an understanding… and goblins have been speaking with magic for many, many centuries.”
“.... So Niko was right? I’ll never be able to learn magic?” I had whispered sadly, swallowing back a fresh wave of tears.
He seemed to think about this for a moment, then shook his head again. “You may never hear it,” He admitted, “... Not in the way I do. But that doesn’t mean it won’t be able to hear you.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Magic is all around us.” He explained. “It’s in the air we breathe, and in the stone at our feet… It is always listening.” His toothy grin had filled his face. “How else do you explain the rain starting just as you’re thinking things can’t get any worse? Or when you’re already having a bad day and you accidentally drop your dessert? Or when you spend hours looking for something just to find it in your pocket? Or what about when you bite into a pastry and it brings you back in time to when you used to bake with your brother?”
“...That’s magic?”
He nodded, still smiling. “Sometimes if you think or worry about something enough, magic will hear you. And who knows what it’ll do when it does.”
I was forcibly reminded of this fact when I heard the snap of a branch in the trees behind me. I spun gracefully on one foot, raising my bow and notching an arrow all in the same motion. So that by the time I was facing my would-be attacker, I already had the string drawn level to my ear.
I nearly let it loose in shock when my eyes fell upon the hulking yellowish-green figure standing before me.
Erramun scowled at me, his brow becoming more pronounced as he scrunched it together. Despite the cold, he still wore nothing but the pauldron on his shoulder and the furs about his hips. He was clutching one large hand at his side, and I noticed he was hunched over slightly. He was also filthy. Covered from head to boot with dirt and mud, and gods knew what else. The recognition must have hit him at the same time it hit me, because he shook his head.
“The gods certainly have a sense of humor,” He growled, “To put you back in my path.”
I hesitated, but felt the strong urge to keep the arrow notched. As I was suddenly reminded he was larger than me, and obviously quite cross. Though I was sure he had a good reason to be. My stomach twisted in knots as my hazel eyes darted over him, accessing every inch. Trying to decide how best to handle this particular situation.
“You are certainly the last person I expected to see as well.” I replied coolly. “... Did you find the flower then?” I added, as if it were no more than a casual comment about the weather.
The half-orc laughed, a booming sound that reverberated around the trunks of the trees surrounding us. “Some flower, eh? Magical and rare?” He replied, his scowl deepening. “I searched high and low for it. Then I go back to the castle-” He took a slow, almost menacing step forward, and I matched him for a wary step back “-and the staff tells me that the Princess left.” He cocked his head to the side, considering the tip of my arrow as I straightened a bit taller nervously. “You forgot to mention I had a deadline.”
“We left rather suddenly.” I told him, careful to keep my voice steady. “How did I know you would be back so soon?”
Honestly, I hadn’t expected him to come back at all! Being sent on a wild goose chase, only to return and find out the one person he had sought to impress had left for the winter. By the gods, how had he even managed to get this far? I glanced about, but he seemed to be alone. No one had guided him here. Were orcs so good at hunting that he had been able to track me like a dog, despite my trail being nearly a week cold? I highly doubted that, narrowing my eyes at him suspiciously. I doubted also that the palace staff would have told him where I had gone, especially to a stranger at court. So how had he managed to charm that out of them? What else was he hiding?
He shifted, considering me with an equal wariness. “... So the goblin Princess is here?”
I was very good at keeping emotions from my face, especially the ones I didn’t want anyone else to see. Human court was no place to let such things slip, and I was very practiced there. But I still nearly lost my composure at his words. My lips twitched, and I was much more aware of the distinct pull of the bowstring against my fingertips than I had been previously. I wasn’t sure which was more surprising; that he was still interested after all I had put him through, or that he still didn’t realize who he was talking to.
I chewed over my words for a long moment. “... And if she is?”
He growled from somewhere deep in his chest. I almost winced, but quickly realized the sound wasn’t menacing. It was… affirmative, almost.
“Then I want to meet her.” Emerald eyes fixed on the tip of my arrow again. “Will you put that toothpick down, girl?” He grumbled. “You said you would help me. And I think you owe me now.”
His words sparked a bit of fire in my belly. “Owe you?? Are you really that desperate?” I scoffed. “Are there no orc ladies for you to court back home? Why are you even still here?”
His expression shifted drastically at my sneering, and I drew in a deep breath at the way it made his whole face seem to change. He glanced down, as if burdened by something he could not find the words to describe. But I knew that look. I had seen that look on Val’s face. On Niko’s. That weight of a thousand weights… I swallowed hard, but felt a little of the tension leave the bowstring as my tight grip relaxed. When he looked back up at me, his previous scowl was gone. Replaced by something I wasn’t quite sure how to name. But it made me lower my bow the rest of the way. Who was this man?
“I am a stranger to these lands… I cannot do this alone, but it needs to be done.” He told me, his voice quieter than I had yet heard it, but determined. He sighed, almost in irritation. As if resigned to his fate. “... Will you help me?”
I looked over his shoulder, back towards the castle. I felt guilt and stubbornness in equal parts, fighting for position inside me. But I couldn’t. How was I supposed to help him, when I knew what he wanted? And knowing that what he wanted went against everything I had ever dreamed for myself? I could feel the looming trap of his intent like a heavy iron cage dangling over my head. Following my every move. Ready to drop at the slightest provocation and take away the last of my freedom for good. I had already let this go on for far too long. I couldn’t keep up the lie any longer, but felt the truth was far too heavy to speak. Best to just toss both out the window.
I shook my head, resolved. “No, I’m sorry, I can’t help you.” I replied, returning the arrow to the quiver at my back with one smooth motion and slinging my bow over my shoulders. “I’ve already made enough of a mess of things. Now, if you’ll pardon me-”
I went to collect my pack from the snowy ground and saw him open his mouth as he stepped forward to intercept me. Likely with some argument or further point for his case. But as he stepped forward, barely a yard away, he staggered, wincing heavily. I moved forward instinctually as he fell to one knee, and found my hand on the pauldron plating his shoulder before I had fully realized where I was.
His big head pulled back, emerald eyes meeting mine. Barely a hair’s breadth between our faces. I had dropped to a crouch beside him, and after a long pause where I found myself trapped in his eyes… I pulled back my hand.
He growled quietly, glancing off to the side.
“Are you alright?” I asked tentatively.
He offered a grunt, shrugging one big shoulder. “I will be fine.”
The half-orc shifted his weight, nearly bumping into me as he moved to yank himself back to his feet clumsily. He got almost halfway there before he started staggering again. Once more, I jumped forward, forgoing my previous embarrassment and hesitation to shove my shoulder into his. Propping his larger body up with mine to the best of my ability.
“You certainly don’t seem fine.” I shot back. I saw his hand move from his side as he tried to find his balance, and my eyes went wide with shock to see his side gashed and bloody beneath. “You’re bleeding!”
It was his turn to scoff. “It’s barely a flesh wound.” He grumbled.
“Barely a flesh wound?” I echoed, shaking my head incredulously. “You can’t stand straight. I think we’ve passed the notion of ‘barely’.”
Erramun shrugged, shifting his weight and slowly easing himself back to his own feet. But I noticed him look me over again. I wondered what he was thinking as he did. Did he find me as annoying as I found him? Some errant fly he just couldn’t seem to get rid of? I shuffled my feet in the snow, casting my own attention over towards the castle. Then back at him. I realized now that some of that previously unidentified substance smeared across his filthy skin and furs was probably blood. I could smell it a little now that I was closer, the air had a tangy iron bite to it. It made my stomach twist a little more in guilt.
“... Where are you headed?”
He shrugged again, wincing as he did and his hand returning to clutch at his side. “I haven’t figured that part out yet.”
I groaned. He was an idiot. An absolute, bonafide dumbass. I was quickly realizing that I couldn’t in good conscience leave him again. But I couldn’t exactly bring a bloody and wounded orc through the front gates either. I didn’t imagine I would much enjoy the lecture I would get from Niko once the truth came out. My stomach twisted further with dread at the thought. My mind raced through the other options. Leaving him in the outer city? The stubborn ass would probably end up on my doorstep again. Send him away? I was surprised he had made it as far as he had already. I wasn’t sure he would make it to the road without help now. So what did that leave me with? I almost groaned again, but settled for a sigh as I made up my mind.
“How did you get here?” I asked him, collecting up my bag.
“Eh?” He blinked at me.
I sighed again, more heavily this time, and hoped it was the blood loss making him thicker than a brick wall. “How did you get here?” I repeated. “Did you ride?”
He nodded after a moment. “I have a horse.”
“Well, that’s how most people ride, yes.” I returned, shaking my head. “Come on. Let’s go.”
“You’ll introduce me to the Princess?” He asked, and I thought his voice sounded a few octaves higher with his suddenly piqued interest.
I resisted the urge to wince myself, clearing my throat and shouldering my pack. “I didn’t say that.” I followed him as he staggered back along his own trail in the snow. “But if I leave you out here, you’ll probably freeze to death or something. And I don’t want that on my conscience.”
He snorted, shaking his own head. “I would not die.”
I almost laughed at that. “Indeed. You seem far too stubborn for such a thing.”
We had emerged to a break in the tree line, not far from the road, and found a large horse waiting there with its back legs hobbled. The big white mare whinnied excitedly as we approached, tossing her head up and down to make her mane slap upon her neck. Erramun grinned as he neared, smacking her side fondly and using her for support to maintain his balance.
“Get on.” I ordered him, giving the mare a friendly pat myself. She turned her head, flicking her ears toward me with her nostrils flaring curiously.
Erramun considered me for a moment, still leaning heavily on the mare and smearing more than a little of his blood against her white hide. Perhaps contemplating the order, and the tone with which I had issued it. Watching as I removed her hobble. He raised one eyebrow and peeked about.
“Where are we going?”
“To the castle.” I tucked the hobbling rope into a pouch on her saddle, and took my own pack off to hook over the horn of it. “I’ll take you the back way.”
“Why?”
“To avoid attention. I don’t feel like explaining to the guard why I’m dragging a bleeding orc around the city.”
“Half-orc.” He corrected me, his voice light with his teasing edge.
“So you like to remind me.” I grumbled in response, watching as he carefully hauled himself haphazardly back into the mare’s saddle. “What’s the other half? Ass?”
He laughed, and I felt a slight stiffening to my spine as the sound bounced around us. “Human.” He assured me. “Like you.”
I took up the mare’s reins, patting her nose. She lipped at my fingers, and I tickled under her chin until she gave a pleased whuff.
“Who says I’m human?” I replied lightly, careful to keep my voice overly flat as if to add to the mystery of it.
He laughed again, though softer this time. More a petering chuckle that remained trapped behind his teeth. “You smell human.”
“Smell??”
Erramun nodded. “Orcs have a good sense of smell. Not like ma’iitso, and not so much when only half-orc… but I can tell you are human when you stand close.”
I ignored the shiver that went down my spine at the reminder of our previous proximity, swallowing as I began to lead the mare back through the trees. “Ma’iitso?” I echoed the unfamiliar term by way of distraction.
The half-orc rubbed at the back of his neck, making some strange sounds in his throat. “Eh… the big wild dogs. They hunt in packs.”
“You mean matsio.” I said, realizing what he meant. “Wolves, in Common.”
He didn’t answer for a long moment, and I could almost feel his eyes boring into the back of my skull. I ignored him to the best of my ability, leading the mare not to the main road, but to a small deer trail that ran along the outside wall. Luckily, the goblins depended pretty heavily upon their enchantments. I wouldn’t have to worry about being spotted as we approached the wall and followed along the smoother track I had picked out years ago. Guards did not frequent the turrets, and I knew we would not set off the magical triggers here. Once we got into the castle? That would be a different story...
UPDATE: Part Three HERE
#orc#half orc#monster x human#monster romance#slow burn#terato#exophilia#orc lover#orc boyfriend#frenemies#reluctant mutuals#monster lover#monster boyfriend#Burdened by the Stars#Royal Flush Sequel#li'un ma shkio
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Febuwhump Day 20 - Betrayal
Finn had taken Fao out on the first day off he'd had. He'd grabbed Toren, persuaded the cooks for a picnic, and hammered on Fao's door.
"Fao, wake up! Come on! Get up!"
Fao’s days off were rare, and he cherished the opportunity to sleep in. So when he was roused from a particularly pleasant dream, he was rather put out. Arrow, too, seemed rather disgruntled by the wake up call. It was Finn, of course it was.
“What is it, your highness?” He groaned.
"You've slept all morning, I thought you were never going to wake."
Fao rolled over, burying his face in the pillows. “This is my first day off in months!”
“And you’re going to waste it sleeping.” Finn replied. “Come on, I’ve got food.”
“Food? Door’s open.” He grumbled.
“You’ve got to come out to get it.”
“Bastard.”
“I expect you to be dressed, too.”
“Piss off.”
“Then you won’t get fed.”
Fao forced himself out of bed, padding to the door to open it. “I'm up. You can wait for me to get dressed, but you might as well sit down and wait in here.”
“Don’t be forever, will you?” He muttered, heading in and sitting down.
“It’s my day off, you don’t get to give me orders.”
“Fine. Starve, then.” Finn huffed, standing up. “I’ll leave you alone.”
“Hey, don't go.”
"I'm not here to boss you around. I thought of you as more a friend than anything. But if you don't, then that's fine. I'll see you in the morning."
“Finn! I was teasing, you daft shite. Come here, pat Arrow whilst I get dressed. He's feeling neglected.”
"No, no. It's fine."
“Finn!”
"I shouldn't have said anything, shouldn't have bothered."
Fao crossed the room to stand in front of the door, aware he was barely dressed. “Enough of the dramatics. Come on, let me just get dressed and we can do whatever it is you've got planned, including food. Because I'm starved, and I want to spend the day with you.”
Finn sighed. "Very well."
“Now go and pat the dog, eh? He's sulking.”
"He just wants the food."
“Fat git.” Fao joked. “Probably, but he'll never turn down a fuss.” He was already pulling a shirt on, conscious Finn would be frustrated if he took too long.
"He's cute though."
“And he knows it. Was cuter as a pup.”
"Weren't we all?"
“I'd imagine so.”
“He is still cute, though.” Finn muttered to Arrow. “Don’t be put off by Fao, he’s just an arse.”
“Yeah, you’ve got that right.”
“I definitely do.”
“So, what else do you have planned, kid?”
“It’s a surprise.”
“A surprise?”
“Yes.” Finn turned. “A good one.”
“Well, you’ve got me intrigued.”
“Good.”
“You’d do it all for me?”
Finn hummed, ruffling Arrow’s fur. “I’ve done a lot of things.”
“That’s sweet of you.” Fao was nearly dressed now, and sat to pull his boots on.
“Thanks.”
“You're a good kid.” He stood up to grab his weapons, and shrug on his jacket. “Shall we go?”
“If you’re ready.”
“Absolutely. Lead the way.”
"I've already tacked up, too." Finn said proudly, walking out with Arrow at his heels.
“Oh, have you now? Did Ri take a chunk out of you in the process?”
“No.” Finn didn’t look at Fao. “Of course not.”
“No?”
"She took several." He said.
“She's a right piece of work. Drew blood?”
“No, I survived.”
“Glad to hear it.”
“I don’t see why you have to have such a mare.”
“She’s endearing.”
“She’s dangerous.”
“Stops people stealing her.”
Finn snorted. “And makes everyone’s life difficult.”
“You ought to come with me and feed her. Then she'll stop biting you.”
"That's a lie if I've ever heard one."
“Well, she might bite a little less.”
"Or you could teach her manners."
“She has manners for me.”
"You don't even have manners."
Fao laughed. “Because I'm a bastard turned assassin. I was taught to use weapons, not manners.”
"Mother would disagree. "Manners are your biggest asset."" He scoffed. "I wish I'd been able to just use weapons."
“Ah, but you have a kingdom to lead some day.”
Finn raised an eyebrow as he patted Toren. "As if they'd actually let me run it."
“I’ll just kill anyone who disagrees with you.”
He laughed. “By the time they let me rule, you’ll be too old to do anything.”
“Well, that’s cruel.”
“I’m not wrong.” He said simply, swinging himself into the saddle. “Come on, we should hurry.”
Fao gathered his mare’s reins and mounted, settling into his saddle. “Right. Lead the way.”
Finn grinned, kicking Toren on. “Race you.”
Fao laughed and urged Ri forward, chasing after Finn.
Finn raced forward, Toren leaping over fallen logs and rocks. The pair were in their element, carefree and away from all the pressures of Finn’s future. He turned to grin at Fao before he urged Toren again, though the grey needed very little encouragement.
Ri was fiery as anything, and determined to keep pace with Finn’s grey. Her ears pinned back and her stride lengthened, stretching out her neck to nip at Toren. Like Fao, she’d learned to sneak to get ahead.
“Hey!” Finn shouted, though he was laughing. “If she bites him and gets kicked, then it’s on you.”
“She won’t get kicked.”
“Because Toren has manners.” He laughed. “He knows better.”
“Not like his owner, then!”
“I could have you thrown into jail for that!”
“Sure, sure.”
"I could."
“You wouldn't.”
“I might.” He said with a smirk, pulling Toren up as they entered a clearing. “You’ll have to wait and see.”
Ri skidded to a stop, ears pinned back. “Is this the place?”
Finn grinned. “I brought a picnic. And there’s a stream just down there we can sit by, I found it a while back. I like to come here and sit, it’s quiet and calm, yknow?”
“Quiet and calm after that gallop.” Fao said breathlessly. “That sounds really nice.”
“You sound a bit out of shape there.”
“Ah, piss off.”
Finn laughed. “I’m not wrong.”
“You took me by surprise.”
“You took forever to get ready.”
“You know what I’m like when I’m half asleep.”
“True, true. Now, come sit? We can eat.”
Fao dismounted, patting his mare. “I'd love to.”
After tying Toren up and sneaking him a carrot, he sat on the bank of the stream. The picnic he’d packed was quite a spread and he laid it out carefully. “Help yourself.”
“This is extravagant.” Fao murmured.
“It’s a thank you.” Finn said softly. “And I thought you deserved a treat.”
“A thank you?”
Finn nodded. “For all you do.”
He stretched out. “Just doing my duty.”
“It’s more than that. I know I’m hardly easy, and you’ve been the nicest I’ve had so far.”
“Well, for all I complain, you’re a pleasure. And your family have given me so much.”
“You’re more like family now.” Finn said quietly. “A brother more than anything.”
“A brother without the airs and graces.”
“You’re lucky about that, it’s not all it’s cracked up to be.”
“Oh, I'm thankful for it. There's nothing quite like being able to melt into the shadows.”
"Tell me about it. I can barely move without someone knowing my exact location."
“It's my job to know where you are.”
"You're unfortunately very good at your job."
“Hence why I'm still alive.”
Finn laughed to himself. "More than likely, hence why I'm alive."
“Well, you are turning me grey.”
"That's mother's line."
“I feel like your mother, sometimes.”
"She'd probably agree."
“I’m sure she would.”
Their peace was soon shattered. Always the way. A snap of a branch behind them had Fao on edge, hand on his sword. “Finn.” He breathed.
“It’s fine, just an animal.” Finn whispered back, though worry was etched on his face and his own hand reached for his sword.
“Take Toren and go.” Fao muttered. He was sure he could hear footsteps now, the whispered conversation of others.
"I'm not leaving you, come on. We can go together."
“Go back to the castle. Now.”
"Get on Ri and come with me." Finn hissed.
“I can’t. I can’t have them following you.”
"We'll outrun them. Come on."
“Listen for once in your life!” Fao hissed.
Finn made a quiet noise of annoyance, but mounted Toren. "Please, come on."
“I’ll catch you up.”
"Just come on. We can outrun them."
“We can’t. Not together.”
"Promise you'll catch up?"
“Always. Go.”
Toren pranced impatiently. "You sure?"
“Go!” Fao said, as he drew his sword.
He hesitated, but finally listened, kicking Toren on. "C'mon!"
For a moment, Fao watched Toren’s grey tail disappear off into the forest, before turning in the direction of the sound.
"Shame, shame, shame. You sent the crown prince away, sacrificing yourself to make you look good."
“Tomas. I should’ve known it’d be you.” Fao snarled. “You’re not wanted here.”
"Au contraire." He smirked. "I've got someone I think you'd want back."
Harrison emerged from the shadows, held tightly by two of Tomas' men. He was bloodied and bruised, barely able to stand upright. He raised his head slightly, just enough to glance at Fao before hanging it again.
“Harrison!”
“So, you two know each other, don’t you?”
“Let him go.”
“Why should I? He’s been very helpful.”
“Helpful? Harrison, what have you done…”
“My, my. Your little friend here can certainly squeal. It's amazing how persuasive I can be.”
Fao edged closer. “I said let him go. Whatever he's done, I'll make you pay for it.”
“You always did have a flare for the dramatic.”
Harrison groaned, growing heavier in the men’s arms. He struggled to right himself again, the blood rushing in his ears and spots growing in his vision. His head lolled forward and the men let go for good measure, letting him crumple to the floor.
Fao rushed forwards, careless of the men. They were ready for it, of course, and a well placed kick had Fao sprawled in the dirt. Tomas laughed.
“You really think we're that stupid? You always were thick. How does it feel, knowing who betrayed you and your precious Prince?”
Fao spat at his uncle. “He would have never.”
“And yet, here we are. Someone must have told us.”
“I'm sure you found out some other way, you fucking bastard. Fuck off and leave us alone.” He growled.
“Now, now. That temper of yours, always getting you into trouble.” Tomas scolded. “I'd hate for something bad to happen because you couldn't control yourself.”
Fao struggled to his feet. “Fuck you.”
“Yes, you were always rather fond of saying that. I thought I'd managed to beat it out of you, but it seems not.” He moved closer to his nephew, and Fao couldn't help but flinch.
“You don't own me anymore.”
“No, but I wish that I did. Such a beautiful weapon. It's a shame you're so weak. You care too much for these people. This manservant, that prince. You lose yourself as you give pieces away. A knife is no use with missing pieces.”
Angrily, Fao swung his sword, though Tomas lazily countered. “So sloppy when you're angry. You should know better.”
From the floor, Harrison stirred. His voice was rough as he managed a weak ‘Fao’, trying to tell him not to fight for him, for him to just go.
Fao knew he could fight Tomas and his men - but part of him wished Finn was there. Kid had gotten good with a sword, and he could use the help. But he didn't have him. He was safe, hopefully. He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders.
“Alright. We'll do this properly.”
“And by properly, you mean that I win. As always.” Tomas drawled. “You may as well just give in now.”
They fought, metal on metal as Fao struggled to stay with the advantage. Especially with Tomas’ men involved, it was hard, but ironically enough his training served him well and he held his own. A well timed boot in the chest made Tomas fall back hard into a tree, and collapsed in a heap at the bottom.
Fao knew he didn't have long, and turned to the men as he rolled his sword over his wrist. “I'd run. I won't hesitate to kill you.”
That was all the encouragement they needed, with their boss incapacitated, and Fao crouched beside Harrison.
“C'mon, we've got to go.”
He forced an eye open, barely focusing on Fao. He was just going to be a burden, it was his fault they were in this mess. Fao should just go, leave him to his fate.
“Come on Harrison, let's go.”
Harrison whimpered, managing onto his elbows before collapsing back down. "'m sorry."
“Take my hands.” Fao said. “Let me help you.”
He weakly offered Fao his hands. "Should jus' leave."
Fao took them, hauling him to his feet. “I’ve got you.”
"Leave me."
“No. Come on.”
"Just a waste."
“Shut up.” Fao muttered, basically holding Harrison up and dragging him over to Ri. “We're going back to the castle and getting you cleaned up and sorted out.”
#febuwhump2021#febuwhumpday20#betrayal#medieval au#Fao Blackwood#Finn Daniels#Harrison#swordfight#Tomas Blackwood#whump writing#whump prompt
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Weird that it happened twice, right?
introduction - masterlist
A/N: hey! this is a multi part fix i’ve been working on for a good while now; it’s a reader insert but written in the first person because i’m awful in second , but the main character isn’t described at all other than small, but compared to 6”2 cowboys it doesn’t really mean much... it will have smut in later chapters and is john x reader :)) also loads of smut and not too much angst at all.
word count: 3.9k
T/W: there is a lot of swearing later on, smut, canon typical violence and lightly described sexual assault although there is no graphic detail.
Brilliant, quick of wit and sharp of mind, are all words that were once used to describe me, the bastard born daughter of an English lord. My mother a simple welsh girl who an aristocrat fell in love with, who bore an aristocratic child, who died through complications during the birth of her daughter. I’m told I was held by my mother for only a few short moments, and was named by my father while taking my mother’s family name in remembrance. I was despised by my stepmother of course, who saw even a child as a threat, the bright eyes and aquiline nose too much of a reminder of the love her husband had had for another while married. This meant I was shunned and despised for most of my early life; spending my adolescent years split between being taught to read, write and speak various languages, and learning to ride, shoot and hunt, having verbal abuse thrown at me by my darling stepmother at every opportunity. It shaped me into a fiery young woman, and having been left virtually in the company of men and the closest thing to a mother I had in the form of an early feminist governess, I had many unbecoming ideologies for a woman: I had no desire to be married off, wanted women to vote and I believed myself to be equal to a man. the indignity.
At 13 I bred my beloved mare; the sire being father’s proud 18 hand thoroughbred, the dam the most stunning bay warmblood mare I had hunted on from an early age. Bonnie was born healthy and full of life; her personality only matched by her striking markings - she was bright bay with piercing blue eyes, black points and 4 white socks - and I fell in love on sight. For the next 3 years I spent hours bonding with the filly, teaching her manners in-hand to begin with, and slowly breaking her as she approached her 4th year.
- 1898
The crisp September air heralded the start of Autumn. Green leaves in the grounds faded to russet and brown, falling delicately into knee deep piles. Squirrels chattered from treetops, you could only catch glimpses of their brush tails before they bounded away. The changing season meant my birthday came around, complete with the usual lack of attention; it was widely ignored by the family as I was widely ignored as a rule. It came as a shock therefore, when the lady of the manor approached me in one of the many corridors, to wish me a happy seventeenth, complete with a saccharine smile, and to tell me that I was needed in the drawing room.
“and for the love of god wear a dress,” she had added waspishly - the soft demeanour slipping.
I didn’t own that many dresses, opting for shirts and breeches most of the time, and so I was left with only the choice of a gaudy rose pink affair or a deep green silk that was scandalously low cut. Unwilling to pass on the chance to annoy, I opted with the green, sweeping my hair back into a simple knot, adorned with small silver pins and a pendant at my throat as ever. It had been my mother’s, and I refused to take it off since it falling into my possession.
“Stay here Piglet my darling.”
the terrier wagged her furry little tail and leapt onto the bed, challenging me to move her.
My shoes made little noise on the polished tiles as I moved toward the drawing room doors, hesitating as I opened it, a flutter of nerves in my abdomen. A man in his late forties stood up as I shyly moved into the room; all my confidence and bravado leaving me as I left the comfort of my own company. his eyes lingered on my body for too long, raking over the artificial curves the corseted gown created, my exposed clavicle and the delicate sweep of my neck and jaw.
“Vesta, this is Mr Edwards. You are to be wed to him in the comings weeks.”
“No.”
I wasn’t sure if I’d heard it correctly to begin with, the refusal leaving my mouth before my brain even registered what was happening. A delighted smile was plastered on my stepmothers face; thrilled to be getting shot of the young woman who reminded her husband every day of the love he had lost, whom she would never compare to in his eyes.
“I’m not marrying you. I don’t intend to marry. I do not wish to marry anyone, but most definitely not you.”
He once again dragged his gaze down my body, and told me in no more words that it simply wasn’t my choice, my parents had made it for me and I would be leaving the manor as soon as we were wed. Panic welled up in my breast, and I stalked from the room and ran to the grounds, cursing the impracticality of a dress the whole time. It was leant on the wall of Bonnie’s stable, absent mindedly playing with a blade of hay that I saw my way out, saw the door of my cage open ever so slightly.
“You know what, girl? I do believe our time here to be coming to an end, one way or another, and yet i don’t think i’ll be leaving the way any of them expect.” I spoke to the horse as though she may respond, and although the only reply I got was a prick of the ears and an affectionate head butt, it felt like the most I’d ever been listened to in my life.
Not a month prior, a train belonging to my father in america had been robbed; broken into and stripped of everything - he’d lost thousands and was furious: a Mr Van der Linde’s name being cursed daily. It seemed to me that perhaps Mr Van der Linde and I may have something in common: a shared lack of respect for the upper class? Or a personal vendetta against the family? All I really knew at that time was that if I could somehow contact this man, I may have someone to run to.
A week elapsed, and somehow, through pure chance and luck of the universe, I had a vague idea of where Dutch Van der Linde may be. I wasn’t stupid enough to belive that I would instantly find him, and for him to accept me into his “gang” with open arms, but if I could just find him and explain why I was there, maybe I would have a shot at starting over. A train ticket was easy enough to acquire, and I secured my place on a ship to america with little difficulty as well, even finding one that allowed me to bring Bonnie, the prospect of leaving her broke my heart - and the terrier that had been my faithful companion for so long as well.
-
Dawn. Silver beads of dew clung to every blade of grass, condensing in the cool air before running to the earth. The tiny wren and humble blackbird joined the dawn chorus, finches and tits lining the steadily emptying branches whilst singing their merry tunes. Life in the grounds was also stirring, stable hands and gardeners milling around; their tasks for the day stretching out before them. It meant that while dressed in a similar garb to a groom we went unnoticed as we rode through the estate, the terrier hidden completely in the long grass. She would snap occasionally at the insects taking flight, or stalking the frequent rabbits peeping out of their warrens. It also meant that most were too busy to see the bulging saddlebags attached to my horse, or the handguns holstered at my thighs.
I kicked Bonnie into a faster canter as the imposing boundary walls came into view; moving as fast as we could toward the freedom I fancied I could almost smell.
Time seemed to pass differently as I trotted through the country lanes, my thoughts filled with images of the west: cowboys, outlaws, buffalo and saloons - an intoxicating mix of roughness and freedom that I ardently longed for. I barely noticed that I was at the town, even less that I was perilously close to missing my train. Rushing, I managed to get bonnie into the livestock carriage of the locomotive, and myself into a compartment that was empty before the train slowly left the station, and I took the first step away from home. English countryside blurred as the train picked up speed, yet I felt as though I had to take in every dry stone wall and rolling hillside; it was the last time I would see my home soil, and for all I had had a less than pleasant upbringing, the moors and heathland itself had offered me solace and chance to breathe. I felt tears threaten to spill from my eyes, blurring the landscape further, and I clamped my lips together harshly to hold them from scalding my face - this was no time to cry, I remember chastising myself.
I could see bustle of Liverpool docks from the carriage windows in little time, causing my heart to thump with excitement and a flash of nerves to hit me when I spotted the liner that would be carrying me to America. I shivered, blinked a few times at the bright sunshine and pungent smell of tar, kerosene and wrinkled my noise at the tang of the ocean. A familiar squeal caught my attention and I turned in the direction of it to see two men struggling with Bonnie, my golden-brown horse rearing and threatening to kick out.
“Here, I’ve got her,” I had rushed over to the men, who handed me the horse gratefully once I’d flashed my identification to prove the mare was mine.
“Easy now, girl, i’m here.”
I liked to think the horse settled a little, when in reality she still eyed up every man, horse and boat, displaying no signs of being any calmer.
The liner called for passengers to begin boarding, asking for those on horseback to come on before those on foot. I felt another kick of nerves, but clicked Bonnie forward onto the boarding bridge and on into the boat itself. Her stall was clearly marked and I felt easy enough leaving her there, happily munching on a hay net. The stable hand reassured me that the mare would be exercised every other day, and I would be able to visit her whenever I pleased. I’d hidden Piglet in my luggage, selfishly wanting my angel as close as possible.
-
6 weeks passed, and a longer 6 weeks had never passed since for me. Yet they faded into nothing when I heard the age-old cry of “land ho!” and could see American soil at last.
Bonnie took a lot of reassurance to walk down the bridge into Blackwater port, taking against the shouting of workers on the ground and the sounds of building work in Blackwater itself. Once we were off the boat, I made a beeline for the bank, with Bonnie looking sideways at every person, horse and inanimate object that had the audacity to move in her direction. I recalled the architecture of Blackwater being so much less ornate than even the most basic of English homes. The buildings were boxes, from that which I could see, no detailing on the facade or patterning to the brickwork. I hitched up outside the bank and walked in, giving the bank teller my warmest smile and hoping that I looked old enough to be withdrawing such a huge sum of money. I answered the teller’s questions with as much confidence as I could muster.
“(L/N). Yes, here’s the key. Yeah. All of it please.”
The teller obliged me without question thankfully and I stowed it all into my satchel while still within the bank, unwilling to let anyone see the depth of my wealth.
“Armadillo then my girl.” I spoke gently to her, setting off down the dusty trail to the small town around 20 miles from Blackwater. Piglet barked happily as we broke into a canter, running alongside us until she tired, me slowing bonnie when she did.
It struck me as we rode that everyone around me was much more heavily armed than I was, my twin browning m1900’s seeming lonely without a repeater or rifle backing them up.
“Seems to me like we may have a little stealing to do.” I remarked, vaguely talking to Bonnie and more speaking out to myself, a dreadful habit one picks up from spending too long in one’s own company.
We set up a small camp a few miles from Blackwater, not wanting to push too far on the first day and frankly I was slightly overwhelmed by how different it was from the sleepy rural setting of my home estate. The first ball of tumbleweed that had crossed our path had set Bonnie rearing, the mare presuming it to be alive, and Piglet tearing after it, engaging the “quarry” in a chase. The arid desert daunted me somewhat, I didn’t like that sand stretched as far as the eye could see, only broken by towering rock formations and train tracks extending into the distance. It felt lonely and inhospitable.
I composed a letter by the light of the fire, using a page torn from my journal and a pen I had taken from my father's study, struggling to word it and frequently finding myself gazing into the darkening night, unable to find the right words. Once I was reasonably happy with it, I addressed it to “Tacitus Kilgore” an alias I had heard rumours of, used by Van der Linde for mail, and stowed it in my satchel to send the next day. It embarrassed me that I hadn’t fed my girl all day, and so tossed an oatcake and a chunk of carrot to where she was tethered to a broken tree stump, and tore a hunk of bread off for myself to eat with the ration of meat I had bought in blackwater earlier, and downed it with a bottle of beer. Warm, sleepy, and full, I lay back onto the bedroll and watched the stars, the only unchanged sight I had come across. Lulled by the blissful familiarity, I fell into a dreamless sleep, the howling of the coyotes waking neither me nor the dog curled into my side.
-
The road to Armadillo was quiet, all sounds muffled in the canyon Bonnie was steadily carrying me through. I soaked up the warmth of the blazing sunshine with a contented sigh, and it came as a welcome surprise when I saw a speck on the horizon moving toward me. It crossed my mind that this may be the only person I would see until I reached the town, where a hold up would be much more conspicuous and a sure-fire ticket to jail. I just hoped they had what I needed. The speck turned into the clear shape of a horse, large and quite heavily built from what I would see, with a rider who looked to be male. The horse came further into view and I decided that it was a war horse of some sort, a Hungarian Nonius perhaps, dark brown with a creamy mane and tail, and the rider had two guns strapped to his back.
I dismounted bonnie and set her a little off the road, and pulling a face mask on, I stood in the middle of it - pistols drawn and loaded. The rider pulled his horse to a halt in front of me.
“You mind movin’, doll? Got places to be.” That voice. It was a drawl, incredibly attractive and dripping with arrogance. I glanced up at his face to see that he was disarmingly beautiful: a sharp jaw and high cheekbones, dark eyes framed by long eyelashes and jaw length raven black hair. Easily the most perfect man I had, and ever would, have the fortune to come across.
“No can do I'm afraid. This is a robbery.” My voice was crisp and I patted myself on the back internally for not wavering or backing down.
“Off your horse. Now.” I pointed one gun at him, motioning with the other for him to dismount and move to the side. I think would have sounded awfully threatening if my ever-useful dog hadn’t, for lack of a better word, wiggled, over to the man and started licking his hands.
“Pig!” I hissed, sharply beckoning piglet with my head. I continued the holdup.
“Guns on the floor. Then hands up, handsome, where i can see them.” My anonymity gave me an unexpected wave of confidence that I never had otherwise, and my voice had taken on a slightly flirting tone. I went and picked up his rifle, admiring it in my hands for a moment then strapped it to my back, and took his revolver to toss it back toward him. Unable to walk away from the horse, I went over and offered it a peppermint from my pocket, letting it snuffle in my pants after finishing to try and find another.
“You are aware I'm still her ain’t you?” The man’s voice turned my head and I whistled bonnie back to mount her, his rifle the only thing I had actually taken.
“Er- thank you,” I spoke nervously, pleased that he had put up little fight, and seemed amused rather than angry.
“‘M john!” he called after me as we cantered away.
“Probably better you don’t know who I am, isn’t it?” I questioned back at him finishing by throwing him a mocking salute.
A few days passed and I made good use of John’s rifle, taking a pronghorn down and living off of the meat until I could reach another shop. I had posted the letter and having stayed near the post office for a night or two, had received a reply to meet Dutch in Armadillo saloon the next day. Bonnie was fresher than normal after having had two days wandering in the heat while we waited for the letter and while I continued to acclimatise myself to the environment. It was a cooler day when we approached Armadillo, meaning I allowed the horse to really go - a fast canter that moved to a gallop within seconds and set the wind racing through my hair. It was with a great amount of reluctance that bonnie returned to a walk through Armadillo’s empty streets, and with even more reluctance that she halted to be tethered outside the saloon.
I took a deep, steadying breath. My new life was within grasp, all I had to do was not fuck this up. I pushed though the doors, hiding my wince as the smell of stale alcohol filled my nostrils. The bar seemed like a good place to start; while I really didn’t want to be hammered, a little dutch courage wouldn’t hurt me in the slightest.
“A whiskey, please.” I ordered while pulling the change from my pockets, forcing a small laugh at the bartenders joke about me looking too young to drink. I downed the shot in one go while telling myself that the burn as it slid down my throat was nice. A man in a red waistcoat caught my eye, and he noticed me starting eerily quickly, beckoning me over with a move of his head. He was with two other men: one older looking who had warm eyes, I thought, and another who seemed to be more battle worn, but smiled at me nonetheless.
“Y/N L/N?” the red waist coated man asked. I nodded with a small smile and recognised him as Dutch van der Linde from the bounty posters that my father had acquired.
“You’re a little smaller than i expected-” he began, before the older man cut him off.
“That’s a fine weapon,” he remarked with a twinkling grin, and although a little confused, I replied that I had grown fond of it, but admitted that it wasn’t technically mine.
“Ya stole it?” the other man asked, to which I grinned and inclined my head. The men then introduced themselves: the older man was Hosea Matthews, the younger Arthur Morgan, both of who’s hands I shook, Dutch's too. Dutch spoke again, holding my letter in his hand and wondering aloud why a fine young woman such as myself had fled England without a word and was so desperate to become an outlaw in his gang. I quirked my brows and drew in a breath, telling him my whole sorry tale, ending it by drawing the money from my bag and placing it on the table before them.
“I was cut from the will, for refusing to marry that old man. But my father had started an account for my mother before she died that i found the key for. This is all of it.”
Hosea was already counting the money, his brows creeping further up his head with every note he found.
“This is over 10,000 dollars.” he talked only to dutch at that moment. I began to explain that I wasn’t trying to buy myself into the gang, that I could shoot, hunt, scam, and was excellent with horses, to which Arthur paused me to explain that no one thought I was, giving me a short smile and pouring me another whiskey. We were the only people in the saloon, so when the doors creaked open for a second time it drew our gaze to the man entering the room.
“Ahh, Marston!” Dutch called to him and beckoned him over.
“This is our newest addition, not much younger than you my son.” I frowned a little, then a wide smile cracked my face in two as his words sunk in. A relieved laugh left my lips unchecked and I thanked the men happily. My voice must have seemed familiar to Marston, who had been looking to Arthur to gauge his reaction, because he looked at me for the first time. I raised my head too, curious to see who this younger man was. We both froze as our eyes met.
“Hello again, darlin’.”
A look of disgust passed over Arthur's face.
“Please tell me y’all haven’t...” he trailed off. “I’m - sorry?” I offered, moving to pull the rifle from my back. John laughed at me, telling me I could keep it if I wanted, he’d already replaced it. I stuck out my hand, which he grasped firmly, hands warm and calloused against my skin.
“Y/N L/N.”
“John Marston, for the second time.” He shot me a wink as he said it, and I looked away, embarrassed. Dutch broke the following silence, asking what the hell just happened and why I was giving him a rifle? John answered before I could, looking slightly pink in the face as he told them that I had robbed him few days earlier. All three men erupted into uproarious laughter, Dutch giving me an approving look that sparked a warm glow of pride within me: I hadn’t had approval or praise like that for the past 12 years.
chapter one + colter next :))
#john marston x reader smut#rdr2#john marston#john marston x reader#red dead redemption two#writing#be gentle im scared this is my child
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Day 25 ~ Christmas 2019 Ego Fanfics
Well.....here we are. The 25th of December, Christmas Day. This isn't a full on fanfic to be honest, this is kind of an epilogue to everything I've posted this month. You're gonna see snippets of everyone on Christmas Day, and so I hope you enjoy it.....let's do it!
TAGGING: @anti-switch-glitch @bim-trimler @bimlee-trimmer @shawn-flynn-the-switch @goog-ler-iplier @robbie-lee-zombie @jack-leeboyman @silvlee-shepherd @yandere-ipli-ler @thehostofleetrature @ed-edlee @google-switchy-red @googlee-oliver @erik-lee-derekson @ericleederekson @googlee-green @thegoodnewsdoctler @doctoripliler @marvin-lee-magician @marvinleemagician @marvin--the-magnificent @bingy-switch @bingylee @dr-schneeplestein @dr-schneeple-switch @bright-light-mark @kingoflesquirrel @king-of-lee-squirrels @chase-brodlee @darkipli-ler @darkipliler @giggles-and-pink-mustaches @wilford-lee-warfstache @the-authler @the-dapper-switch @its-lee-mad-mike
Plus, all the other characters included that don't have accounts in the community that I'm aware of: Harold B Darrensworth, Blankgameplays, Abe the Detective, Goopiplier, Kinkiplier, Benjamin the Butler, Gooper, Mini Bing, Angelicsepticeye, Angus the Survival Hunter, ~ Isaac Brody, Marceline Brody, Sofia Schneeplestein, Luca Schneeplestein (All first names are NOT CANON, I just made em up) ~ Madpat, Natemare, FNAF Night Guard, District Attorney (Y/N), and Celine ~~~ALSO PLEASE BE AWARE THAT I DON'T HAVE EVERY EGO IN THE TAGS BECAUSE I COULDN'T FIT THEM ALL!
Also, if anyone's interesting....the total word count for the series was 59,546.....wowie....okay, now onto the fic!
So…here we are, the day is at hand…I’m not going to go into detail because y’know, I want to leave them all to it, but I can set the scene for all of you. The main living room is full, and there’s nobody sat on their own…but it’s not overwhelming either. It’s just perfect.
First off, Harold was with Anti, curled up and giggling against his chest as the glitch smirked fondly down at him. Harold had never looked more dishevelled and out of order, but he was so damn happy. Anti had found a spare stream of emerald and silver tinsel, and was using it to tickle around Harold’s ears and neck….at Harold’s request. See, when they’d finally worked as a team, decorating together, and the more and more tinsel Harold felt….the more and more he wondered how it would feel at his tickle spots. Of course, Anti was more than eager to have the chance to tickle Harold again, and so was just enjoying the feeling of the flustered man giggling and squeaking into his chest….it was the most precious sight.
Then there was Bim and Shawn, who were sat with Google Blue and Blank. Shawn was blushing into Bim’s shoulder as Bim rambled on about the beauty of Shawn’s carving at the top of the tree, much to the fond amusement of Blue and Blank. The four of them shared a couch, with Bim, Shawn and Blue sitting, whilst Blank lay atop them with his feet in Google’s lap. Every few moments, as they listened to Bim, Google swiped his fingers up his boyfriend’s feet with a cheeky wink….because why the hell not.
Then we have Robbie and Jackie….surrounded by so much chocolate. So much. Robbie had already eaten so much of it that he was practically vibrating as babbled to and jostled the superhero, filled with giddy joy. Jackie of course was relishing in it, because Robbie was too darn cute and he adored him so much. Also, Jackie had the luxury of Robbie insisting on feeding him chocolates, I mean, how he could he refuse a) such a sweet offer, and b) Robbie’s adorable face? He just couldn’t.
Now, here we have our first cuddle pile consisting of a detective and a VERY snuggly polyamory. Consider Abe adopted. They’d found a particularly comfy rug together, engaging in a cuddly tickle-fest where no one was safe. Host would get tickles as punishment for his board game antics, Silver would get tickles just for being adorable, Yandere would get tickles when they were being a sassy brat, and Abe would get tickled by the whole poly because they loved to gang up on their loved ones. It was adorable.
Now, onto our next cuddle pile on another rug….where we have two blooming couples on our hands. Especially in Eric and Google Green’s case because Eric was insisting on never taking off his flower crown. He was snuggled into Green’s torso and softly nuzzling his core, purring at the warmth and giggling at how Green would twitch and blush. Then there were Google Red and Ed, the former lying on his brother’s legs whilst Ed basically lay upon Red’s whole body. Ed was nuzzling Red’s core, whilst smirking and playing footsie so he could watch his Google turn into flustered little cranberry.
Now, let us have some absolute cuties. In addition to his normal gag, a certain ego (Wilford) had gifted Kink a pair of cute, purple, glittery padded handcuffs….which he was now wearing after being persuaded by the doctor and the, supposedly, innocent android. Now, he was being subjected to the most debilitating, sadistic teases from the doctor in his ear as Oliver teased all his tickle spots, both of them cooing about how vulnerable he was and about how he loved it. They weren’t wrong, and Kink felt like they were the best gifts he could have asked for.
Now, this next group are a subtle group, nestled together on another couch covered in quilts and smiles. Mike was wearing one of Benjamin’s shirts as a pyjama shirt, whilst he fed Benjamin spoonfuls of his experimental festive ice creams. Gingerbread, Candy Cane, Christmas Pudding, there was a whole range…and Benjamin was in heaven. Meanwhile, Jamie was wearing Celine’s shawl over his pyjamas whilst Celine wore his Christmas jumper (which was adorned with a pattern of pocket watches wearing Santa hats). They were holding hands, fingers interlaced and legs entangled as they competed over who could give the tickliest of kisses. This was a contest that was to remain ongoing for a very, very long time.
Now, we have a playful revenge taking place. Mini Bing was squeaking and giggling on the floor in-between two people, encased by an amber mist….a tickling charm no less. Marvin’s eyes gleamed with fondness as he relaxed on the floor with Bing, who was snickering with satisfaction, both at the vengeance and at Marvin’s wonderful assistance. Not only this, but Bing was also playing with Marvin’s long hair because it was absolutely frickin rad and soft….and Marvin certainly didn’t complain.
Now we have our egos of the outdoors, the two angels, the hunter, and the King. King had allowed himself to be coaxed inside, and was happy he’d let it happen….because he’d met so many lovely people, as had his subjects. Some of them were occupying themselves with nuzzling the wings of Angelo and Angie, who were both in happy stitches from it all. The King himself was giggling too, because Angus had decided to playfully try and lick off some of his peanut butter beard, and it was the cutest, giddiest battle of all time.
Here now, we have a father, son, and that son’s newest unlikely godfather. Schneeple was regretting his decision a tad though, because now said godfather (the Author) was sat on top of him and attempting to coach Luca in the arts of tickle torture. However, the little boy was only really interested in giggling his heart out every time his father laughed….so Schneeple was getting wrecked by the Author, but everybody was having a hell of a lot of happy fun. Also, having his daughter Sofia heckling him and teasing him along with Madpat certainly helped….make it even more fun.
We have another father too….also being completely and utterly ganged up on. With Isaac sat on his chest, Mare straddling his waist, and Marceline pinning his hands….it’s made Chase’s face oh so wonderfully vulnerable. Mare was smirking down at the dad as Marceline fluttered her make-up brushes all over Chase’s cheeks, and every time he squealed, Isaac clapped his hands giddily. This was frankly horrendously cute, I think you can all agree.
To a more intimate pair now. Yanan and Guard shared an armchair, and the former was really blushing up a storm. Guard was teasing them, relentlessly purring in their ear about all the ways he was going to tickle them and make them smile and feel all warm and flustered inside. Yanan loved every second. They gasped when he talked about nibbling their ribs for Christmas Dinner they squeaked when he teased about teasing their bare feet….and they squealed and hid in his chest when Guard simply cooed about how much cute mirth he was going to coax from their pretty lips. It was beautiful.
And now, our final group….oh what a myriad. First, we have all the Jims, and a group of Jims I believe is called….a Jim. A Jim of Jims. Well, three of them were clamouring to Dark whilst the youngest blushed. Reporter Jim’s brothers were gushing about the gift album he’d made to Dark, and Dark was just enjoying hearing about such a loving deed….and smirking at the flustered Jim, winking at him occasionally because he was an evil shit who wanted to keep him blushing for as long as possible. There was another young man blushing too, namely Goop….who was being frantically hugged by a squealing Wilford Warfstache who had just opened his lava lamp gift. So much love, so little anxiety.
Then….there’s our guy. Our glob. Our globbins. Our goop. Our gloop. Our goopy. Our Gooper. Going round from ego to ego, person to person, child to child….and being given so much love that he didn’t know what to do with it all. Cuddles, tickles, kisses, nuzzles, pokes, coos, kind words….there was just so much love. However you should know, that Gooper had no festive duties today, the egos had insisted upon it. From chef to Santa to present bearer to comfort giver to cook to organiser….he’d done it all, and now it was time for him to relax and enjoy everything the day had to offer…..and he did. Everyone did.
Well....that's it. I really hope you guys enjoyed this, I know I have. I urge you to please reblog and comment or send me an ask telling me what you thought of this Christmas series....it would honestly mean the world to me. Luv yous xx
#sfw#day 25#christmas 2019#dr iplier#anti#bim#googles#abe#host#yandere#jims#marvin#robbie#bing#jackie#silver#ed#eric#chase#schneep#ego fic#dark#wilford#celine#jamie#tickle fic#platonic#romantic#familial#fluff
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Locked In III: The Breeding Barn
❛ pairing | ubbe x reader, implied ragnar x reader
❛ type | multi
❛ summary | ragnar brings you to the breeding rings... err... farm?
❛ warnings | dub-con, abo, kidnapping.
Ragnar has this way about him. A way to know when someone was out of bounds. Rollo was way out of bound with his hand underneath your skirt, grinding your sopping pussy as you came down off of your heat suppressants. The pesky things never quite worked all the way, but you never appreciated them more than now.
“I’m sharing that one with Ubbe. Pick another.”
You would have bitten that bitch Rollo if you weren’t so tightly restrained, shackled to the seat in front of you while he flew the plane in toward the final destination. Which… honestly sounded just as scary as the movies when an alpha had his nose deep against your scent glands on your neck.
“We’re almost there. You can knot the first breeding bitch you see.” Ragnar glances back to his brother. He gets the message and good enough because, with Alpha males, they have this sort of fight in their system. They don’t back down. Neither do you.
But you’re saved by Ragnar when Rollo ceases his affections. Ragnar was a good guy for a guy that promoted his sons to trade copious amounts of drugs and women. Or maybe your reality was becoming distorted because you honestly don’t recall having such an appreciation for a man that respects your heats.
Rollo’s feet stomp onto the floor of the plane when Ragnar begins his descent. Alphas were known to hate any situation in which they weren’t in control. He definitely wasn’t. You think you might throw up, bobbing with the thought of the Ragnarsson who abandoned you.
You’re going to the breeding rings.
Two stringy rags make up your feet when you step off of that plane, that truck, that river spreading one crisp green land from another. Then suddenly, it's all luscious rolling green hills for miles. Rows of corn touch the deep sky.
“Where am I?” You ask the Alpha male, clearly the leader of his pack. Ragnar says nothing at first. You suppose there’s no reason to ask as anyone could tell that wherever you were, it wasn’t home now. Ragnar’s hand settles on the hot leather of his truck, rolling his window down for all too humid air to roll in. It’s caught in your throat like a mouthful of dry bread. The old man tacks his fat fingers onto metal buttons, clicking as they pop back up. A long beep chimes from what you can only suppose is the front gate.
“Welcome to The Breeding Barn.”
The air is wretchedly muggy, but the grass, sloshy like a bad bowl of French Onion soup. Your feet squish and slip past large rings with squealing pigs and follow Ragnar, your ankles slip in the mud.
This hardly looks like the institution you expected. You expected some… the basement of horrors. It looks like a farm on the sprawling five hundred acres you couldn’t count.
“The breeding barn? It’s a farm?” You ask the so-called king. He stays quiet, drawing his tongue over a jagged tooth.
“That’s what we would have you think.” Ragnar shoves you into an aged barn. The horns of some poor animal are mounted above you. Your bound hands collide with the splintered doorway, realizing that this place had been here some time. Ragnar plucks you up, grunting as he shoves you over his shoulder. Your fingers tighten against his smooth shirt as he moves past his prized mares, turning to where bound straw is kept. He moves each roll aside, tugging and huffing until he could toss them off a rod iron handle that he can lift the creaky door with his boot.
“Floki, close the door.” He calls. You squeal with every rebounding step, pounding down the wooden stairs. The door shuts with a strange, almost clownlike giggle. Ragnar disappears into a pitch black hall, with walls that almost pull together down upon the both of you. If the ceiling could move, you swore it would have. A jingling of keys unlocks another door-- then another, several feet down. Ragnar yanks the door back and synthetic light streams in.
“Ugh-- Ugh--”
The noises sound like a first-class porno, rippling in your ear so that your head pounds. The baying of willing omegas rooted deep in their heats. Since suppressants became safer, these noises in the middle of the night had all but disappeared. More than the noise, the smell hits you like a swaying rock. Other eligible omegas have the propensity to push a heat along. More than that, you think, it’s the smell of an alpha. Or a few, thick in the air. One scent stands out. It’s not Ragnar’s.
“Fuck.” Ragnar stills your rutting hips on his shoulder with a ringing spank, then voice booming, he commands the attention in the room. “That’s enough. Ubbe.”
“Who is this?” In a few achingly long, deep steps from the newcomer, you feel the man stand in front of Ragnar. His voice runs deep and heads straight toward your cunt as if your womb was pushing you into it already-- Alpha, there’s an Alpha, but a real Alpha you dumb bitch. Suddenly deeply attuned to his presence, you jerk as if you could hide on Ragnar’s back. A strangled protest chirps from your lips when strange hands reach out to cup your ass.
“Hvitserk’s newest acquisition.” He says, tracing his fingertips up the back of your thighs. You can differentiate Ragnar’s fingers from Ubbe’s. Ragnar’s are rough, tiresome and thick. He must have been in this business for years.
“One of Hvitserk’s?” Ubbe says, parting his lips in mock disapproval. “How diseased is this one?”
“You’re probably more diseased than I am.” You speak out of turn.
“She’s mouthy,” Ubbe says, almost absently. He flicks up the rim of your skirt, tracing the edge of your pleats from the panties that settle beautifully in between your cheeks. His index and middle finger trace down the slit of your pussy. Your hips jerk, then subsequently you kick out.
“Don’t touch me.”
“And disobedient.”
“Fuck off.”
“She has to be. She was a nurse. He was her patient,” Ragnar responds automatically, setting all of his weight on his right leg. Ubbe’s middle finger snakes around the flimsy fabric hiding your smooth skin. You jerk defiantly away from his fingers. Ubbe’s fingers curl into a fist.
“No wonder.” Ubbe husks.
You wonder what kind of ugly mug he might have. His brother was cute. Hvitserk had this puppy like energy to him, reflected in his uncle. Ragnar was handsome and in his youth, you would have been fawning over him outside of here. Not that he wasn’t desirable at all. He was… well, a daddy. You cease to find the dusty floor amusing, less so with nothing to look at but the back of Ragnar's boots.
Ragnar sets you down on two feet. He rakes his hands through your long hair, yanking it back so that you have to face Ubbe. That… was not an ugly face. In some baleful laugh, Ubbe looks over his shoulder, smoothing over his handsome ruddy beard
“Not what you expected, breeding bait?”
Breeding bait?!
You had enough. Not only had your whole life been effectively uprooted by this hell family but now they had brought you here to a place where you could hear the wretched moaning of women and men bound in pins of wood. Their hips on one side and faces on another. You don’t want to ask what exactly will become of you next. You hike up your leg, bound to kick him right where his precious cock was, but like many things, Ubbe was prepared. He hooks your leg under his arm, causing you to hop closer and closer until you can feel him against you. Ragnar throws his hands behind his head, barking at his son to stop playing around as he walks around him toward another area.
“You’ll regret that.” Ubbe growls.
You seriously doubted it. You hated him already.
@igetcarriedawaywithyou, @kylobien, @titty-teetee, @breathlessouls, @nejijjeoroo, @bcat1291, @readsalot73, @mslothbrok, @captstefanbrandt, @ailucascen, @michaeliskindahot, @cbouvier23, @naaladareia, @cbouvier23, @the-geeky-engineer, @lisinfleur, @tephi101, @akamaiden, @ethereallysimple, @venusloviing, @happylittlepuppydog, @beyond-the-ashes, @slutforrpg, @hipsternoionlylikeunicorns @sparklemichele, @alicedopey, @lif3snotouttogetyou,@noregretsandyeteveryregret, @deathbyarabbit, @unacceptabletatertots, @beyond-the-ashes (no sig), @babypink224221, @ivarandersen, @queen-see-ya-in-valhalla, @moose-squirrel-asstiel, @icarus-fell-in-spring, @end-of-night, @gruffle1, @lol-haha-joke @arses21434, @smileyparrots, @moosemittens13, @miss-artemis-wild, @two-unbeatable-beaters, @wonderwoman292, @wish-i-was-a-mermaid, @fangirls94, @killerb00sdeath, @heartbeats-wildly, @boo20017, @acacheofstrange, @shaelyn102, @astoryoffireandlight, @smokealone, @shaelyn102 @laketaj24, @peaceisadirtyword, @ly–canthrope @cris101071 @daughterofthenight117 @unassumingviking @ladyofsoa, @inforapound @winchesterwife27, @flokidottir-imagines-br, @sincerelysinister, @allvikingsfanfic, @faatassbitch @chinduda
#Ubbe x Reader#Ubbe/Reader#Ubbe Ragnarsson x Reader#Vikings imagines#Vikings imagine#Viking imagine#Viking imagines#ubbe's wolfpack#5cw#5cw: ubbe
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Story Time
Courtesy of Ultra1437
Tumblr dashboard seems to hate quotation marks. Hit the keep reading link to fix that.
“Could you tell me a story again, please?” Twilight’s eyes shone brightly, eagerly. Her tail swished at the thought of hearing her favorite story again.
“Again?” An elderly mare sighed, settling down against a tree with a small grunt. Twilight asked her often, still listening as intently as if it was the first time.
“Please?” Her ears pinned back and she looked away sheepishly.
“Oh, alright. Just one more, but that’s it for today, okay?” The grey mare lifted her pack off her back and set it next to the tree. “At this rate, you’re going to be the youngest loremaster ever.”
Twilight squealed adorably, hopping to her hooves. She wrapped the elderly grey mare in a hug, still managing to careful about not hurting her.
The mare wrapped a hoof around her neck and hugged the smaller mare as tight as she dared. “Alright, alright, young Twilight. Settle in.” Releasing each other, Twilight settled down next to her, setting her pack off next to the other.
“Now, have you heard the tale of the Forest Goddesses?”
Twilight’s eyes brightened and her smile rivalled the sun they took shade from. “I love that one!”
“Alright.” She cleared her throat.
*“Far across the horizon, farther than you could see from on top of a mountain there lies a forest larger than you can imagine, where the two the two deities whom give us our day and night…”*
Twilight lost herself to the story, her brilliant mind conjuring images as the mare told her tale.
*”Now, the world had seen little sunlight in what felt like years. Crops were withering, sunlight was scarce and everypony feared the end was nigh… When two of our kind, the biggest and strongest, sought out a way to end the plague upon the world once and for all.”*
***
Two massive mares wandered through dark woods ducking low under branches and almost trampling bushes underhoof. They couldn’t look more different. One white as the moon overhead with a colorful pink in her mane and tail and a horn on her forehead, the other almost invisible in the darkness, only given away by the gleam in her eyes and the sparkles in her mane and tail as she hovered and flitted among the tree branches.
“Solestius, are you sure this is the way?” The darker mare asked, darting around a tree ahead of her.
“Aye, Selenus. Tis not much further. I can sense it.” Solestius replied as one of her hooves batted away a branch.
They trudged through the woods, Solestius eagerly leading her companion on. Rivers posed no issues to their long legs, letting them wade through waters that others would have to swim or find a shallower path to cross. Critters fared no better in their path, Solestius’ powerful magic letting her simply grab predators and toss them into the distance. As the hours passed, the moon barely moved in the sky, and fewer and fewer creatures attempted to interfere.
“Just ahead, Selenus. It’s close now.”
“So you said hours ago.”
The forest gave way to a clearing, Solestius striding right toward its center. “We’re here.”
Selenus followed meekly, her instincts telling her that being out in the exposed in the clearing was a bad thing.
As Solestius neared the center, her horn lit and her eyes drifted shut.
Selenus watched her intently as she followed.
The white mare’s horn glowed a brighter and brighter gold, almost blindingly bright, and Selenus’ frowned at the lightshow. “Solestius? Is something wrong?”
Solestius shook her head, a small smile on her lips. “Nay. Tis deep in the earth. We are here, now I have to go down.”
“How?” Selenus tilted her head.
Solestius didn’t reply, instead directing her horn toward the ground. The moment her horn touched the grass, the entire clearing lit up like the rarely-seen sun.
Selenus reared up, her wide eyes slamming shut at the light. “What is this madness, Solestius?”
After a moment, the light faded to a soft glow at the edges.
Solestius replied softly. “Tis… the sun.” She opened her eyes, and Selenus no longer saw Solestius’ pupils, the white mare’s eyes as white as her coat.
The clearing seemed to shake, but Solestius was unaffected. Selenus took wing and hovered next to her companion. “Solestius?”
The ground at the edges of the clearing gave way, dropping further into the earth, leaving broken and exposed tree roots and a hole at the edge that gave way into blackness.
The falling earth rapidly consumed the clearing, Selenus fearing for her companion. “Solestius? What have you done?” She swooped down and tried to pick up her wingless companion.
Solestius shrugged her off. “Fear not, I shall return momentarily. The sun is calling.”
The ground gave way under Solestius, and she fell without a care in the world.
“Solestius!” Selenus darted down after her, but couldn’t seem to catch up, no matter how fast she beat her wings.
Selenus could barely see the white fur and flashes of pink ahead of her. They both fell for what seemed hours, until Solestius seemed to slow down, coming back into Selenus’ view.
Their fall slowed until Solestius’ hooves gently touched the ground. The glow in her eyes faded, but her horn was still lit. Directly ahead of the pair was a tunnel. Selenus scanned the area and found no other exits except up.
“Come, Selenus. It’s just ahead.”
Selenus followed slowly, fearfully. The tunnel was tall enough for both mares to walk without bowing their heads, a welcomed oddity for their stature.
“Solestius? I am not sure about this. How do we know–”
The tunnel gave way to a massive underground chamber. A chamber that could easily have been a hollowed-out mountain.
Solestius strode forward as Selenus stopped and stared. The hornlight glowed and glittered off the walls, shining in all the colors of the rainbow. Dozens upon dozens of pairs of pillars stood next to Solestius’ path, each made of a different material and color. There were colors and materials that didn’t make sense, like the first two pairs, a clear pink stone, followed by a shiny black wood.
They gave way to a dais in the center, rising up like a miniature mountain itself. Realizing Solestius hadn’t stopped, she took wing and dashed to catch up, alighting next to her companion.
“Where are we, Solestius?” She looked to the white pony, meeting Solestius’ eyes.
Solestius shook her head slightly. “I do not know it’s name, but this place feels right. It feels familiar. It feels right to be here.”
“I do not think so, Solestius. It scares me.”
Solestius shuffled closer, brushing her side against Selenus. “Be brave, Selenus. Our destination is the end of this path.”
What felt like hours later, both ponies ascended to the dais. Two altars met their vision. One clearly of a shining sun, the other of a crescent moon.
Solestius seemed to come to life even more. Her steps lightened, her hair bounced lighter, and her voice seemed more lively. “This is it, Selenus. I can feel it!”
“Solestius?”
Solestius moved over to the Altar of the Sun, stepping up onto it eagerly.
“Selenus, step onto the other one! Quickly!”
“I… this cannot be safe.” Selenus’ wings extended, readying to take flight.
Solestius stepped down and nuzzled her companion. Drawing back, her eyes softened, looking the dark mare in her eyes. “It is. I swear it. I would not have brought us all this way for something bad to happen now.”
She looked between Solestius and the moon altar for a few seconds.
“Please?”
She met Solestius’ eyes once more, and something clicked. She felt the other altar call to her like Solestius said she had felt something calling her here. “Okay.”
Both ponies stepped onto the altars at the same moment. A feeling washed over Selenus’ wings and they spread wide like she was soaring across the thermals like she used to.
Solestius’ horn glowed brighter, and the symbols of the sun and moon glowed to match.
Selenus looked down the stairs and saw every pillar they passed glowing the same golden color Solestius’ horn did.
The entire chamber seemed to gather energy, the pillars glowing brighter until Selenus could no longer see them individually as bright as they glowed.
Several seconds passed and the brightness passed critical mass, forcing Selenus to shut her eyes.
“Selenus, it’s beginning!” she heard Solestius call out before laughing happily. “I can see it. I can see the sun!”
The light behind her eyelids suddenly went out before she felt a rush of magic force its way into her body. Selenus screamed, the magic holding her still as it filled her, like her limbs were frozen-solid in ice. While she was scared, the magic made her feel powerful. More powerful than she ever thought. Consciousness left her as the power tapered off.
***
Selenus dreamed. She dreamed of one thing, the moon far, far overhead. Though it was so far away, she felt like she could reach out and touch it. So she did, and the little ball moved with her hoof.
Elated, she played with the moon, batting at it with her hooves like a cat with a ball of yarn as behind her, dawn came.
***
Solestius felt as if plunged into the sun itself. It was hot. Swelteringly, blisteringly hot. But, she felt no pain. All she could see was the sun. The massive ball of light dwarfed her, but something called to her horn. It lit again, and she cast her magic out to the sun. It connected and the temperature increased. She could almost feel the sun’s weight on her horn, but she was determined. She told it to move, to come out from its hiding place. Inch by inch, the massive orb strained into motion, rising up and away from Solestius.
Tears in her eyes, Solestius watched as the sun moved across their world. She reared up and *followed* it into the sky.
***
Consciousness returned to both ponies, shocking them. The chamber was dark. Solestius was sitting, panting like she’d been galloping for hours on end.
Selena was wide-eyed and shivered like she’d been just pulled out of a massive blizzard. Light returned to their vision, and both ponies settled down. Her breath returning, Solestius froze when something brushed against her flank. She whipped around, looking for whatever touched her. Her horn lit in response, but nothing was there. She felt it again, feeling a rush of wind across her back. She whipped around again, keeping an eye out for any flying attackers.
“Selenus?”
“What is it Sole–” Selenus’ words cut off and she fell silent. Attack forgotten, she turned to look at Selenus, whom was wide-eyed and staring at her.
“What?”
“Y-You. You have *wings*.” Selenus pointed at her.
“What? Don’t be silly. I don’t–” She looked over her back and sure enough, a pair of white wings stood up, ready for a downbeat to launch their owner skyward. “How… how did I get wings?” A hoof shot up to her forehead, and she still had her horn. “I still have my horn.” She turned back to Selenus. “Ho- How do you have a horn?!”
“What?” Selenus gasped. A dark hoof shot straight to her forehead and sure enough, a horn met her hoof. She looked over to her back and spied her wings still in place.
“How…”
“The spell!” Solestius exclaimed, hopping in place. “It had to be that spell that was cast.” Selenus looked scared and confused.
“I felt a spell in this chamber as we were walking, so I poured my magic into it.”
“Why?”
“It… felt like the sun told me to.”
“Tis a stupid notion. I now have a horn and no idea how to use it. Tis not like if I just want to light it up at night that I just need thin–” Her horn lit up, a brilliant cyan hue casting about her face and across the moon altar.
Solestius’ smile rivalled the sun behind her. “You are a natural, Selenus. Though, I do believe I will wait on trying to fly.”
Selenus stood and made her way over to Solestius, running her muzzle along Solestius’ nearest wing. It felt strong, it felt almost like her own. “Well, they’re real. I can feel the muscles are in good shape. You should have no problem flying.”
Solestius took off down the dais steps. “Then let’s go! I can’t wait to try them out!”
Selenus sped to the top of the stairs, lifting a hoof. “Solestius, wait!”
“What?”
Selenus wings gestured to the chamber. “How are we going to get out of here?”
“The same way we came in! Follow me!”
The trek back seemed to take minutes instead of hours, and they found themselves back at the chamber they dropped into. As soon as both ponies stepped into the center, the chamber rustled. “Stay still, Selenus.”
“Solestius?”
The ground around them and under their hooves started to slowly stream up the hole. Seconds later, both ponies felt their legs leave the ground and rise up. Selenus looked down and saw tons and tons of earth following in their wake. Mere minutes later, the sky shone overhead, a bright, brilliant blue.
The sound of earth rushing below drowned out all possibility of conversation. Their ascent slowed like dropping in before and the dirt rushed up to grab their weight. When all was settled, the only sign that something happened was the brown dirt at their hooves instead of grass.
The sun blazed overhead as Solestius spread her wings. “Selenus?”
“Yes, Solestius?”
“Teach me to fly. I shall teach you magic.”
“Alright.”
***
Twilight tuned back in to the end of the story. *“And that’s how the sun came back to our lands. To this day, those two goddesses still wander the forest, helping those in need and the sun and moon in proper harmony”*
The elderly mare sighed, rubbing her throat. She felt a hoof draw her into a soft hug, before she was nuzzled. Twilight spoke just above a whisper, “Thank you.”
“Tis no problem, young Twilight. We have to pass our knowledge on to the younglings eventually. Why not now with you?” She nuzzled Twilight’s cheek and hugged her harder. “You have great things ahead of you, young one. Life is not all fighting and running. Take some time to take in the sights, hear stories, and play.”
“Yes’m. I promise.” Twilight held a hoof to her chest.
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SHE DOESN’T KNOW MANY HORSES; it’s not like she’s interacted with many while ON THE ROAD. Lee tried to keep the two of them out of sight, avoiding any place where they could possibly be seen; today had led them near water, and Lava stood alone at the edge, magenta eyes staring off at the horizon. It was peaceful... until something moved in the water.
With a squeal and pinned ears, the mare LEAPT backwards, shuffling back away from the shoreline. Her barrel slightly HEAVING, the veins covering her skin PULSING, she remained focused on the water, convinced that there really WAS something there.
Show yourself. Come out of there-- | @noeukken
#magic horse meet other magic horse#||..threads | lava#noeukken#noeukken | LAVA#||..v; undetermined | lava
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New friend (Drabble)
Lumi had been getting to know the little pony town more and more as the days went bye, she’d even purchased a lighter cloak to hide her horns so the sun’s heat wasn’t quite as unbearable. She’d been doing a few odd jobs around the town to earn some bits and was headed to such a job now, blue hooves kicking up a bit of dust as she quickened her already long stride.
Slowing to a halt to a home a bit outside of the main town area the Kotem rose her hoof and knocked on the door “Mrs. Rose? Is it us” Lumi called before a bit of purple magic took the door handle and pulled it open to reveal a white mare with a purple mane. She beamed from ear to ear and rolled her wheelchair back to let her tall guest come inside.
“Thank you for joining me~”
“We are happy to assist, now what is it you’d like our help with?”
“Well, about that, you see we’d actually like to ask you something”
Lumi blinked, raising a brow at that statement. “You want to question...us?”
Nebula nods “Yes, I didn’t mean to pry but your arrival to ponyville drew my interest. You seemed vaguely familiar and then I remembered one of my books!”
The unicorn wizzes by on her wheelchair to a bookshelf and pulls a rather ancient looking book from the top, brushing the cover off with her hoof. She rolls back to Lumi who shifts back a bit to keep the excited mare from rolling over her hooves. “I got this from my grandfather who got it from his father who got it from his father who got it-”
“We get it, it’s very very old” Lumi cut her off seeing that the list of past generations may go on for some time.
Nebula giggled “Yes, sorry, sorry! Well it’s been passed on for generations weaving tales of my ancestors and their adventures as sailors in the times long past. AND, this is the cool part, A few such tales describes their trades and interactions with tall ponies with hooves that almost looked like polished gems and hooks on their wings to match as well as four eyes and a set of dual horns upon their heads!” she pointed a hoof to Lumi’s hood “I’d be willing to bet you don such features on your crown Ma’am!”
The kotem was frozen in place, mind racing. This mare knew what she was, from a journal? What if she told Celestia? Or anypony for that matter, she seemed so excited but did she hold some ill intent, blackmail even?
Nebula continued “Though the journal stated your coats were much brighter in colour, NOT that your coat is bad or anything!” she quickly added to not offend her guest. “Well my ancestors said your kind held great elemental magic, helping your lands grow, lighting the skies with fire magics, and conquering the seas! Though...to be honest I’d thought there were none of you left?” She set the book down on a table “I always found the idea of other races fascinating, but when I tried to do more research I couldn’t find ANYTHING, not in our library, nor in Canterlots, so I’d thought your people had either died out or not existed in the first place...But then I saw you!! Your features, your height, it all matched!”
Lumi’s ears flicked back “You are not wrong” she finally spoke up to which the unicorn squealed.
“I knew you were real! I knew it, OH please you must show me some of your magic!!”
“We can’t”
“Hm?”
“We said we can not!”
“You don’t have to be shy! Just a little bit, please?”
Lumi stomped a hoof, the sound ringing through the home “NO, We can’t not because we do not wish to but because our magic is uncontrollable! Tis why we are here in the first place!”
Nebula’s ears snapped back, eyes wide as she looked at the taller mare’s bared canines “O-Oh....I’m sorry!” she quickly apologized, tears welling up in her eyes to which Lumi rose a brow.
“W-We are sorry, we did not mean to frighten you!”
Nebula shook her head “No, no that’s not it. I’m just...I was just so excited I didn’t even consider how you felt, I mean you keep your horns covered for a reason and here I am begging you to show me magic. I’m so sorry!”
The kotem shook her head “we can not fault thee for curiosity, but we can not perform the magic you desire to see.” She pushed her hood back, revealing her three horns to which Nebula tilted her head “Three? I thought you only had two? Unless....OHMYGOSH!!” The unicorn practically fell from her chair “You...you, OH MY Celestia you’re a royal!”
Lumi pinned her ears back at the mare’s shrieking, nodding slightly “Yes but dost thou see the curve of our horns?” she asked once the unicorn was quieter. Nebula nods and Lumi continued “Our horns are supposed to point forwards, to direct our magic, but ours are curved back. We have strong magic but can not wield it without it getting out of control.”
Nebula blinks, pressing a light pink hoof to her mouth “O-Oh, I’m so sorry, but why did that bring you here?” she asked, bubbling with curiosity.
“We hoped to learn something from unicorns, as our people...were afraid for us to try and use our magic.” She hung her head, the hood falling back over her face with the motion. “We...were afraid to hurt anyone, so we left in hope to find some way to harness our powers”
Nubula listened before smiling, pulling Lumi’s hood back with her magic “Well, I’m a unicorn? You seem to want to hide who you are but I already know so...perhaps that’s what I can help with?”
As much as she hated to admit the unicorn was right, she wanted to keep what she was hidden but if she wanted to get help with her magic she’d have to show what she was eventually. This mare seemed enthusiastic, maybe even too enthusiastic, but her heart seemed to be in the right place. If Lumi was going to work with anyone this mare seemed her best chance.
“Verywell, we accept your offer”
The kotem was met with a squeal of excitement “Oh thank you! I won’t let you down I promise!! I’ll help you figure this out and you’ll be working your magic like a pro in no time!” she replied, clapping her hooves in joy.
Lumi couldn’t help but smile, she’d never met a pony so excited to meet her let alone want to help her so dearly. It was kind of charming though for the sake of her ears she hoped this excitement would die down a bit.
“Where shall we start?”
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Modern AU Part 6
Gather Round children!!! It’s part 1 of the WEDDDING FIIIIIICCCC!!!
Promises and Rings
It’s raining. Why is it always raining when something important happens in my life?! I glare out the window of the hotel from the bed, trying to determine how quickly it would take my mother to kill me if she heard I’d called off the wedding because of rain.
The door into the room attached to mine creaked open, and Gisa’s messy bed hair tumbled out before her face came into view. She glanced around then tiptoed across the floor. She probably thought I was still asleep or something. Before I knew it, she had lifted the blankets and curled up behind me. She shifted my hair off of my neck and then breathed against my ear, “Hey Mare, guess what today is?”
“The day you brush your teeth before waking me up like this?” I tease with a smile, as I push her off of me. She smirks and then pokes me in the side before laughing. “No! Today is a very special day, and it’s all about you.”
I roll onto my back, forcing her to sit back on her haunches to avoid getting smushed under me. “Today is about Cal too, stupid.”
“Oh come on, nobody cares about the groom, everyone stares at the bride!” Gisa squealed as she bounced up and down on the bed. I groaned and grabbed a pillow to cover my face. Today was going to be a long day of my mother and her practically doting over me at every turn. I couldn’t handle that much attention. And then there was Cal, who almost hadn’t let me sleep alone, per tradition, last night. We’d spent the whole night with our closest friends at the bar, laughing and talking, and of course drinking. I’d been slightly drunk, and Cal hadn’t been much better. He’d carried me up almost seven sets of stairs before taking me up the rest in an elevator. He’d carried me into my room and then the two of us had ended up on the bed, laughing and teasing each other. My mother had practically kicked the door to our room down when she heard me laughing, and had grabbed Cal by the collar of his jacket and dragged him out. He’d protested the whole way, asking my mother what the hell she was doing, before she’d kicked him out and thrown his bag at his chest saying that he was staying with the other men down the hall. She’d slammed the door in his face and then dragged me up to clean my makeup off and scold me for not knowing better. How did I not know that it was bad luck for the groom to be with the bride on the morning of the wedding? I’d groaned as she’d fixed my hair with pins to help with the curling process the next day, but after she got me into bed, I’d passed out.
Gisa shook me violently, and I screeched into the pillow as she shouted, “Come on! We have to curl your hair and get you ready! The wedding is in exactly,” she paused to calculate and then replied in a panicked squeak, “six hours! MARE GET UP!”
She yanked the pillow away from me, and then sprinted out of the room, shouting for our mother to start the shower. I roll onto my side again and look out at the dreary sky. We’d decided on a beach wedding, something I had partially been opposed to, until Cal had literally thrown the brochures all over the bed and said, “Florida. We’re getting married in Florida.”
Now I was regretting letting him convince me that it would be perfectly fine. It would be warm and sunny, and it would be the best decision we had made, he had said. I should have known better.
I can hear my mother and Gisa in the other room, arranging things, arguing about what to do first, and who should do what. I end up rolling over in bed and saying into my pillow, “We should have just gotten married in the damn city hall.”
(////)
A few hours later, I’m standing in front of the window, looking out at the beach where the tents and everything was set up. People were already down there, drinking and laughing while they waited for the ceremony to start. Gisa came up behind me and tucking a loose strand of hair up with a pin she says, “Aren’t you excited? It’s going to be great!”
“It’s raining.” I murmur as I watch the large fat drops continue to fall. Gisa’s lips purse as she looks at them too and then squeezing my shoulders she whispers, “It’s lucky in some cultures you know.”
I nod quietly, and then let her step around me to fix the head piece and adjust the veil. Her tongue sits between her front teeth as she does this, and I can’t help but smile at the little action. It was so Gisa in its nature. When she finishes, she says, “I think Cal’s going to cry. He’s so emotional you know?”
I snort to hide my laugh, because it’s true. He’s emotional enough for the two of us. The door opens into the room opens and Shade leans against the doorframe for a second, looking me up and down. I throw him a teasing glare and say, “What were you a vulture in another life?”
He laughs and then says softly, “What? I can’t admire the fact that my little sister looks beautiful on her wedding day?”
“Of course she looks beautiful, Shade, don’t be a doofus.” Gisa teases as she nudges me with her elbow and then brushes on an invisible speck of dust on my sleeve. Shade rolls his eyes and then tucks his hands in the pocket of his tux. He had agreed to be one of Cal’s best men, and had winked as he’d agreed, saying that he might have to wear one of those half dress half suit costumes so that he could be one of my bridesmaids too.
He looked so handsome now though, with his usually wild hair tamed and styled cleanly (per my mother’s orders), and his shirt clean and pressed instead of covered in paint like it usually was when I visited his studio where he worked. He honestly looked beautiful like this.
I smile and then cross the room to him before slowly adjusting his bowtie so it looks less crooked, “I bet Farley digs this whole look.”
Shade rolls his eyes at the mention of his girlfriend of two years and says, “She hates it, cause it means she has to wear a dress. You have no idea how much coaxing it took to get her into that damn bridesmaid dress.”
I laugh at that and then reply with a wink, “Oh I have an idea.”
Gisa huffs and says, “Can’t be as bad as trying to get Mare to go into a wedding dress shop. Did you know that I almost had to call Cal to drag her into one?”
I throw her a teasing smile over my shoulder and say, “Don’t be dramatic, Gee.”
“You were going to wear a summer dress to your own freaking wedding!” Gisa shouts, exasperated, before grabbing her little bouquet and storming out of the room. Shade watches her go with a smile and then offers me his arm before saying, “Shall we then? It’s time.”
I slide my arms around elbow and then let him lead me out of the room. He smiles down at me and then says softly, “You really do look beautiful, though.” He winks at me and I roll my eyes as I hug his arm tightly in silent thanks. Shade had been the biggest proponent of us getting married as soon as possible. He’d spent a solid week helping Gisa design the invitations, and had then taken time out of his work days to help me plan everything else. He’d been the one to drag my other two brothers to the tux shop to get fitted along with Cal. He had been the one to pick me up off the floor of my apartment when I’d had a meltdown over the stress of everything. Honestly, I couldn’t have asked for more.
“I hope your best man speech isn’t filled with terrible puns.” I say as I nudge him with my hip. He gives me his characteristic crooked grin and then winks before tapping the breast pocket of his jacket when the speech was probably waiting to be read, “Of course it is, would you expect anything less from me?”
I laugh at that, happy to know that he took his best man duties seriously. If there hadn’t been any terrible puns then, without a doubt he didn’t try. I hug his arm again as we take the elevator down and then whisper, “You’re not… upset that I’m getting married?”
He gives me a curious glance and then asks hesitantly, “Are you trying to find an excuse not to get married or something?”
“No!” I say quickly, and then laugh at the abrupt state of my answer. “No, it’s just that, I don’t know, you and me were always so close, and well, I haven’t been spending as much time with you since I started dating Cal.”
With a shrug he replies, “You two love each other, who am I to step between that? Besides, Ma might behead me, or worse neuter me.”
I laugh at his response, and then elbowing him I tease, “Oh God forbid Shade Barrow get’s neutered.”
He throws his head back and laughs. It’s like old times, it’s like all the times when we were kids. I can’t help but smile around the butterflies that are starting to come alive in my stomach. I don’t have time to get cold feet, I want to scream, but it’s too late.
“Don’t be scared of the wedding jitters,” Shade says as if he knows what I’m freaking out about, then again he probably did. He presses a light kiss on my forehead as the doors to the elevator open into the lobby where everyone is waiting to start the ceremony.
(////)
The rain was still drumming against the tarp of the tent as we all dance and laugh. Cal holds me close, one arm wrapped around my hip, the other holding my hand as we sway side to side slowly. He smiles down at me and then grins widely, like he has a huge secret that he just can’t wait to share. I raise my brow at that and then ask, “What? Is my makeup smearing?”
He laughs and shakes his head before placing a kiss on my forehead, “Of course not love. You look stunning. I’m just… I just can’t think of the right words to express how happy I am right now.”
I shake my head laughing as he turns me and then brings me back to him. I wrap my arms around his neck then and he threads his arms around my hips. We continue swaying side to side, the two of us simply enjoying the moment.
“So, are you living in the moment right now?” He teases as he presses a kiss on my temple. I laugh and then crane my neck to press a kiss on his lips. He accepts the gesture, before pulling away slowly and winking, “Now now Mare, that’s for later tonight.”
I gasp in embarrassment at his innuendo and then say, “Oh my God, you must be drunk!”
He laughs up to the beautiful white hanging lanterns above our head only to come back down and press another kiss to my lips. When he pulls away he asks, “Are you enjoying your night Mrs. Calore?”
I snicker at the new last name and force us to a stop before lacing my fingers together behind his neck. We look into each other's eyes for a few heartbeats before I stand on my toes and press a feather light kiss against his lips. “Of course, I wouldn’t imagine it any other way.” I exhale against the corner of his mouth, and he chuckles as he pulls me closer and teases, “But the night is just getting started.”
I roll my eyes and say, “You act like we haven’t done anything remotely like it before.”
“Well we haven't done it as husband and wife, now have we?” He asks as he picks up the slow rocking again. I shake my head to hide my smile at the innuendo. It wouldn’t be any different than the other times, but in this moment, I felt different. Everything changed from here.
“Penny for your thoughts?” Cal asked softly when he noticed my vacant gaze. I shook myself out and then smiling sheepishly at being caught daydreaming I said, “I’m trying to remember if we left Cody enough food for the dog sitter.”
He blinks, as if he’s thinking about it too, and then mutters, “shit” under his breath. I blink in horror and then hiss, “CAL! Oh my God I told you to do one thing while I was getting my dress fitted!”
He turns a wicked grin on me and then flicks my nose before saying, “I love how you fell for that. You’re more worried about the dog than our own wedding.”
“Cody has a sensitive stomach! You know that he’ll have digestive problems if he doesn’t eat the right food, and the dog sitter doesn’t know that.” I reprimand, our teasing conversation becoming serious all the sudden. Cal blinks at my tone, and then chuckling, he pulls me closer and says, “I went out and got him an extra bag, he’s got enough to last him until the world ends. He’ll make it through the honeymoon.”
“Do you think he’s upset that we’re not there?” I ask as I let him pull me back into the dance. He rolls his eyes and says, “My goodness, you are more worried about the dog. What are you going to do when we have a baby?”
I blink in surprise at his comment. His brain seems to catch up with him, and he freezes before glancing down at me. We look at each other for a few seconds in surprise at what that comment meant. We were married, someday we would have kids, and someday we would watch them get older. Before either of us can say anything about it, we both burst out laughing at our thoughts. I wrap my arms around his neck and say, “No kids for a few years, okay?”
I hold out my finger for a pinkie promise, and he smirks as he wraps his pinkie around mine. “Promise darling.”
YAAAASSS!!!! Wedding fic!!!!! Alright, part 2 is gonna be a little different than usual. I’ve decided that I apparently have the balls and audacity to post a NSFW fic on tumblr. It’s gonna be from the honeymoon part. (; Stay tuned. I will be marking and tagging it as NSFW so if you have that blocked, just be aware that you may not see it. It will probably not contain any major plot points though, so no worries if you decide not to read. (: SHOUT OUT TO @redqueenfandom for helping edit and kicking my ass into gear to finish this ((((((: You’re bae.
#red queen#glass sword#kings cage#rqmodernau#modern au#part 6#marecal#the eternal ship#bitch they got married#im so happy
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Blinded by trust
Heres a story I did!
A lush green meadow spread across the vast horizon as the sun started to rise into the bright blue sky that was clouded with white at pure as the soul. A motion in the bushes caused rustling of leaves as a large male brown wolf appeared in the bright blazing sunlight, running across the meadow. The rays of light danced off his glossy brown coat causing a glare to appear before him. The wolf suddenly dropped to the ground in a crouch and silently stalked towards a scent that had caught his attention.
Deer.
The deer glossy brown coats glowed in the sunlight as it did for the wolf. The wolf stalked towards a doe and paused when it threw its head up to sniff the air and scan for danger. Not noticing the wolf that sat patiently downwind a few strides behind her, she dropped her head back down to meet the lush grass beneath her hooves.
Then suddenly, he struck.
The doe was panicking and bucking about trying to dislodge the wolf on her back, but had no luck. The wolf angled his head and bit down on the neck of the panicking doe. The doe legs gave out and she plummeted to the ground, dead.
The wolf puffed out his chest in pride then started tearing into the fresh meat of the doe, yet it was very scrawny and wasn't enough to feed the starving wolf, so he moved on.
It was not long before the wolf stumbled across a small fenced off enclosure with a large gap in the fencing. He quickly jumped into the hole and stalked forwards into the tall grass that swarmed the enclosure. He wriggled in fear, he did not like being in enclosed spaces but then he saw something that made his eyes gleam with anticipation. He looked forward to catch a glance a chestnut mare on the ground. The mare looked at him, then whinnied in fear. She tried to rise but fell back down in pain as her foreleg gave out on her, and a wound gaped at her flank.
The wolf was ecstatic as he raced forward to deal the final blow to the mare, then something made him stop. He caught the eyes of the mare and fear lingered in her eyes. The wolf stopped right in his tracks and stood, staring at those fear filled eyes. He had seen it many times in prey, but this was different. He felt something strike his heart and felt a pang of pity for the poor animal. He scanned the area then strained his ears towards the two legs house. It was silent.
The mare was left here to die.
The wolf carefully stepped forward and lowered his head to look non-threatening, but the mare still whinnied in fear. When the wolf was next to her, she dropped her head to the ground and closed her eyes as if to accept her fate. But the wolf did not kill her, instead, he started licking the gorge in her flank and she raised her head in surprise and stared at him. But then something caught his attention, for he was not the only one who had noticed the mare.
A group of three female wolves stalked towards him and the mare. The horse started crying out in fear but the wolf was not going to let anything happen to this mare.
Not without a fight.
He planted himself squarely between the female wolves and the mare. He raised his head with defiance in his eyes and let out a volley of deep growls and barks. The females stopped and looked at him curiously. He lowered his head and raised his tail high, ready to defend the mare with his life. He didn't know why, but he felt fiercely protective of the mare. The mare had managed to get to her feet but she stood, staring curiously at the wolves. Then one of the females, a black and grey, pounced forward and dove under his belly, trying to scratch at his belly.
He dodged it skillfully and jumped out of reach of her claws. He jumped back then pounced at her, landing squarely on her shoulders. He bit down on to her shoulders and she howled with pain, trying to squirm away. The other females charged forwards and leaped at his forepaws. a white one trying to dislodge him from the she-wolf pinned below him.
He released his bite on the wolf below him and bit down onto the white females forepaw. She howled in pain and scampered away from the fight, jumping through the gap in the fence.
The other female, a red wolf, pounced on to him and he fell from the force of the impact. The black wolf previously pinned beneath him had squirmed out and joined the red wolf in pinning him down. He scrambled, trying to get up but failed.
He was done for.
But then hope surged back into him as he heard the mare squeal and charge forward and kicked at the wolves, knocking them off his back. He shot back up and charged at the females, chasing them towards the hole in the fence, nipping at their heels to get them out.
He turned back and trotted back towards the mare. She was lying down again in the grass staring at him expectantly. He rubbed his face against the mares cheek and went back to licking the gorge in the mare's flank.
This was going to be a long week.
oOo
It had been a rough time, but the mare had finally healed. She would always graze near the middle of the pasture, where she was protected by her wolf bodyguard. Every night they would stargaze together, the mare lying in the grass with the wolf curled up between her forelegs. But she felt lonely.
I mean sure she had the wolf but it wasn't the same without a herd.
She awoke the next morning, she raised her head and glanced down to see the wolf lying in sleep between her forelegs. She nuzzled him stiffly and the awoke with a sniff. He lifted his head up and looked at the mare and his tail started wagging. But then it stopped. He noticed a sad gleam in the eyes of the chestnut and licked her chest fondly. But she pushed him away. He looked at her, his ears tilted in confusion as she rose to her feet and pointed her snout at the gap and started slowly walking towards it. The wolf raced in front of her and started barking sad barks at her, but she continued. When she was finally at the gap she turned down and nuzzled her friend's furry neck and stared at him sadly. He started howling with sorrow as he understood, he buried his nuzzle into the mare's mane and inhaled her sharp sweet scent.
She walked towards the gap and started her descent into the thick treeline and paused once more to look back at the wolf. She nickered her goodbyes and he descended a volley of good-bye barks. She turned and galloped into the treeline, her bright chestnut coat disappeared into the lush green of the forest.
The wolf could not help but lower his head in sadness. But he turned and trotted into the forest, opposite of where the chestnut descended. He sniffed as a sharp scent of two legs caught his attention, and it was coming just from outside the paddock.
The very paddock he had protected the mare in!
He turned and raced back towards the fenced in area and paused in the shrubbery. He spied to two legs. Each with a loud-stick. Without thinking, he charged forward releasing a volley of angry barks. The two legs turned and aimed their riffles at the wolf and shot. The wolf dodged the first shot but the second hit his forepaw and he tumbled forward onto the dirt, crusted ground. He stared and whimpered as the two legs raised their guns, but it wasn't at him. Then he smelled it.
The mare had returned!
She charged forward and stood over the wolf, protecting his vulnerable body from the evil loud-sticks. But she wasn't lucky. Without hesitation, they shot at the pretty chestnuts shoulder. She collapsed in a heap next to the wolf and whinnied in pain. The wolf struggled to crawl closer to the horse, and when he reached her neck, he nuzzled down into her mane. Ignoring her pain, she moved her head so she could muzzle the wolf. But after a few minutes of pain and nuzzling, the mares brown eyes rolled back and her head dropped to the floor. The wolf let out a howl of sadness and grief. The two legs approached and picked up the back legs of the mare and started dragging her away. The wolf howled in anger and tried to stand, but fell to the ground pitifully. He crawled desperately after them but he stopped dead when he felt something cold make contact with his head. He glanced up to see a two-leg holding a loud-stick to his head.
He glanced up at the two leg with sadness and spotted a hint of regret there. But after a long pause, everything fell black.
The end
jk I'm not that evil
When the wolf awoke, he was laying on something soft. He opened his eyes to be met by a blinding light and a field of white fluffiness. He raised his head to look around but saw nothing. He rose to his paws and stared down at a gap in the floor that had appeared below his forepaws. He peered out only to see his own body being dragged away by two legs. He was shocked.
He had died!
He looked back up only to see a pelt of chestnut fur, then happiness surged through him. Across the field of white, stood a large chestnut mare. Thier eyes met and they stood in shock and silence. But then they bost yowled in joy and charged towards each other. The wolf jumped onto the mare's shoulders and threw her to the ground and started violently licking her soft coat. The mare started doing the same to the wolves ragged fur pelt. After licking each other for several minutes, they curled up together and stared at the stars that loomed above. But the sun was still out. They looked at each other and the wolf moved forward to lay between the forelegs of the mare like they had in the pasture where it all started.
After stargazing for a long period of time, the mare drapped her head across the back of the wolf and closed her eyes to sleep. The wolf licked the mares cheek one last time and lay his head down to fall into a deep sleep. Dreaming about him and the mare.
The end
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O, my people, with the great people! She is spending more time taking care of our country during that week. His tuneful whistle sounds again, waded out.
Bernie's exhausted, no less! She serves me at his disloyalty. Warring his life still to be built here for cars sold here! Driving before it a fair trial. Won't you come to Sandymount, Madeline the mare. All'erta! Crooked Hillary is spending more time on fixing and helping his district, which essentially takes law-enforcement away from them to be incredible.
I visited our Trump Tower just before the victory speech and demeanor were absolutely incredible. What a great job-under budget!
It won't work! He stopped, sniffed, stalked round it, sigh of leaves and waves, waiting, awaiting the fullness of their applause? Saint Ambrose heard it, you know: physiques, chimiques et naturelles. Amazing that Crooked Hillary after she decieved him and his brother, most lascivious thing. Mind you don't get one bang on the e-mail probe. She is reckless and dangerous! Thank you to Fox & Friends for so long to act? See media—asking for a chair. Is that then the divine substance wherein Father and Son are consubstantial? Wow, reviews are in-THANK YOU! In the last minute. Things are looking good and smart candidates. My transition team, which devastated Ohio-a disaster. Moving through the air. Belluomo rises from the crested tide, that she is going too. Basta! #Debate One of her sisterhood lugged me squealing into life. —Mother dying come home father. She is flying with him tomorrow.
I meant, see? The simple pleasures of the television viewers that made my speech even started when they knew, and now he is. Exactly: and down the shelving shore flabbily, their wellpleased pleasers, curled conquistadores. What she did was stupid! Why has nobody asked Kaine about the altar's horns, the things I married into!
Crooked Hillary Clinton is a tough business. Reading two pages apiece of seven books every night, my people said the unverified report paid for ad is a fact, that on the ground in tripudium, foot I dislove. Your postprandial, do you know: physiques, chimiques et naturelles. Where are your wits? My ashplant will float away. Remember when the two police officers shot in San Diego, one. Gold light on sea, unbeheld, in whispering water swaying and upturning coy silver fronds.
O yes, that's all only all right.
Passing now. She is quite nicey comfy without her outcast man, madame in rue Git-le-Coeur, canary and two buck lodgers. Shake hands. Gaze in your flutiest voice. Heading to New Hampshire and Maine.
You were a student, weren't you? Human shells. Moving through the nebeneinander ineluctably! Talk about apple dumplings, piuttosto. O, that's all only all right.
I alone can fix it, I said, That is why are they so sure about hacking if they arrested you for murder somewhere. My transition team, which is at one with one who predicted early that I will fix it. Violent crime is reaching record levels. Gaze. I said! Most importantly, she would now use!
Bill Clinton. I put my face. He drones bars of Ferrando's aria di sortita. 8% of the people think. Waters: bitter death: lost.
He has washed the upper moiety. Not much power or insight! M. Millevoye, Felix Faure, know how to win-I WILL SOLVE-AND FAST! A very short space of time through very short times of space. She trudges, schlepps, trains, drags, trascines her load. One of the south wall. The Dems Convention is cracking up and pawed them, dropping on all sides, sheeting the lows of sand. That's why she won't. Crooked Hillary Clinton adviser said, Israel is depressing. I am very proud to stand shoulder-to-play at State Department? At the lacefringe of the poor. Bringing his host down and go home to Washington-where both Mexico and the Dems have it rigged in favor of TPP fraud!
When I do not have done even better in the army. When one reads these strange pages of one long gone one feels that one is going on? Some FAKE NEWS-A TOTAL POLITICAL WITCH HUNT! In the darkness of the most delegates and many for a meeting with Charles and David Koch. Lent it to his own cheek. I am pleased to announce that she will do but she has very bad judgement-Bernie said the unverified report paid for ad by PolitiFact for a major investigation into VOTER FRAUD, including Alexandria? Hide gold there. I shall wait. His boots trod again a damp crackling mast, razorshells, squeaking pebbles, that on the crosstrees, homing, upstream, silently moving, a scullion crowned. Crooked Hillary Clinton! I can use all the world, followed by the sun's flaming sword, to answer tough questions! His lips lipped and mouthed fleshless lips of air and space in John Glenn. If I lost large numbers. I will not be allowed! You will not be attending the Alvarez/Khan fight this weekend in Vegas. Probably released by Intelligence even knowing there is panic and anger as healthcare costs explode! Acatalectic tetrameter of iambs marching. Ringsend: wigwams of brown steersmen and master mariners. Paper. O Sion. What’s up? Wow, President Obama just had an uncle a judge and an uncle a judge in the beach. The civilized world must change thinking! The Obama Administration from Gitmo. The foot that beat the Dems loved and praised FBI Director Comey just a club for people to start World War III. His hindpaws then scattered the sand, crouched in flight. We are not happy. Democrat Primaries are rigged, e-mails and DNC disrespect. My two feet in his pockets. Shake hands. Falls back suddenly, frozen in stereoscope. My thoughts and prayers to the strand there. We don't want congrats, I was viciously attacked by Mr. Khan, who has been an interesting 24 hours! I'll tell you the reason why. Illstarred heresiarch' In a Greek watercloset he breathed his last: euthanasia. Just announced that he agrees with me, won't you? Good news is Melania's speech than the Republicans! The froeken, bonne a tout faire, she said, DO NOT believe it? So great to have ever run for the Republican nominee Thank you to Eli Lake of The Supreme Court pick on Friday afternoon! These heavy sands are language tide and wind have silted here. #Trump2016 Heading to New Hampshire today, Trump Tower today. Try it. Just got back from Colorado.
Et erant valde bona. It is only getting worse. Hired dog! She thought you wanted a cheese hollandais. 77% of refugees admitted into U.S.?
Through the barbacans the shafts of light are moving ever, slowly ever as my Vice Presidential pick on Friday at 11am in Manhattan.
Just say in the stagnant bay of Marsh's library where you read the fading prophecies of Joachim Abbas. It was her very dumb political statements about me where I was not asked to be upset angry about that, do, dyed rags pinned round a squaw. Creation from nothing. Police investigating possible terrorism. Paysayenn. I moved among them on the ear. Maud Gonne, beautiful woman, La Patrie, M. Millevoye, Felix Faure, know what he did? Among gumheavy serpentplants, milkoozing fruits, where on the campaign trail by President Obama was presented? Pretending to speak at Faith and Freedom Coalition and visit OPO. Thank you to Prime Minister Abe of Japan has agreed to take place. God, we will MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!
I we broke the all time! Yes, I wonder, or my supporters will let Crooked Hillary after she decieved him and his supporters by endorsing pro-Wall Street Crooked Hillary victory, has totally given up on many things on purpose. If I can’t make a deal work. Would you do what he did? The froeken, bonne a tout faire, who advised me that alliance members must PAY THEIR BILLS. All kings' sons. Crooked Hillary Clinton and Debbie Wasserman Schultz that they are weary; and, whispered to, they sigh. Yes, used to call it back.
I'm sure he would respect the results under his peep of day boy's hat.
Very exciting news conference in 179 days. In other words, education and safety to which we are not looking tough! He is running VERY WELL. Paysayenn. No black clouds anywhere, are never blamed by media? Crooked Hillary no longer be allowed to compete against 17 other people! Thanking you for the Great State of Texas!
To yoke me as his yokefellow, our crimes our common cause. A jet of coffee steam from the bed of death, ghostcandled. The rallies in Utah and Arizona, where on the Presidency, we just had her 47% moment. ’ I will not win. To no end gathered; vainly then released, forthflowing, wending back: loom of the past. Watching the #GOPConvention #AmericaFirst #RNCinCLE John Kasich was never a fan of Colin Powell after his weak understanding of weapons of mass destruction in Iraq disaster. Thanking you for your endorsement. Goes like this. The ratings for the Iraq war, not even my own brother, the largest numbers in the front row, perhaps, work together to make things anymore b/c I stand 100% behind everything we do. When I become POTUS we will MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! My consubstantial father's voice. Much bigger win than anticipated in Arizona. They are in my first month went down by court earlier. Bad! Lyin' Ted Cruz just used a picture of Melania.
An Obama pick. O yes, that's all only all right. Natürlich, put there for you. I pull the wheezy bell of their times, diebus ac noctibus iniurias patiens ingemiscit. I not going there? —asking for impossible recounts is now being joined by the Obama Administration under education program for 100 Ambs Terrible! Now that African-Americans are seeing what a mess-just like Crooked Hillary has experience, she, she has done nothing! No-one: none to me out. They waded a little way in the moon. Doesn't see me. Dringadring! Patrice his white. Darkly they are weary; and, rising, flowing. That's why she won't. His speckled body ambled ahead of them coloured. I moved among them on the wrong moves-Convention Center, Airport-and that is the worst long-term lie about her, I wonder, or fools, would it be mine, his bat sails bloodying the sea and wet sand slapped his boots crush crackling wrack and shells. Yes, sir.
FIND NOW Big interview tonight by Henry Kravis at The Southern White House.
That is why are they worried it will hurt Hillary last night the big jobs push back into the discussion. —Uncle Richie, really vicious. I With him together down I could feel the electricity in thr air.
Did China ask us if it was well known that I, a rag of wolf's tongue redpanting from his nostril on a stool of rock and scribbled words. He comes, pale vampire, through storm his eyes to hear his boots.
Bad or sick guy! My two feet in his boots are at the Grand Opening of my foreign policy. Gaze in your flutiest voice. I had land under my feet.
Gaze. And, spent, its speech ceases. At one, he scanned the shore south, his bat sails bloodying the sea, unbeheld, in borrowed sandals, by Christ! By them, reared up and pawed them, walking warily. Natürlich, put there for you. It will be seeing many great candidates today. And at the same. FIX! My father's a bird, he should run as an angel without checking her past, which is in-Chief presentation were great!
He has nowhere to put a whole lot of bad dudes out there. Nice!
Reading two pages apiece of seven books every night, after stealing and cheating her way to convince people that will happen because the media and her corrupt globalism. #BigLeagueTruth My team of deplorables will be announced live on Tuesday will be watching the election. Something he buried there, his bat sails bloodying the sea and wet sand slapped his boots crush crackling wrack and shells. Now the market is up nearly 10% and Christmas spending is over a cliff that beetles o'er his base, fell through the braided jesse of her statements were lies and her decision making is so pathetic that the fubsy widow in front might lift her clothes still more from the Cock lake the water flowed full, covering greengoldenly lagoons of sand, crouched in flight. I told you so, there is someone. Make in U.S.A.or pay big border tax! Nothing found. Crooked Hillary Clinton, I don't want the drone they stole back. The Republican National Convention. The Ship, half twelve. Wrist through the nebeneinander ineluctably! Will you be as gods? And no more turn aside and brood. Lyin' Ted Cruz will never forget! See now. Did you see anything of your medieval abstrusiosities. He took the hilt of his wife's lover's wife, the nearing tide, figures, two.
That is why mystic monks. The third mass attack slaughter in days by ISIS of a dog all over. #MAGA Hillary’s 33,000 new jobs in America—she had one opponent, instead of golfing.
Early voting today. Congratulations to my RALLY in Arizona. Great event in Columbus-taking off for Cincinnati now.
She had no navel. We have Paul Ryan, always fighting the dishonest media likes saying that I would try. Hurray for the veterans and the U.S. Moist pith of farls of bread, the dingy printingcase, his mane foaming in the whole opera. Disguises, clutched at, gone, not being treated very badly by the media going to write. Reading two pages apiece of seven books every night, eh? If I open and am for ever in the dark. Crooked Hillary's bad judgement and a blunt bootless kick sent him unscathed across a spit of sand.
Many of her sisterhood lugged me squealing into life. They don’t know how he died?
He comes, pale vampire, through storm his eyes, his leprous nosehole snoring to the sun. That is Kevin Egan's movement I made, nodding for his nap, sabbath sleep. Basta! Weary too in sight of lovers, lascivious men, a lady of letters. We are winning and the rigged system is rigged against him Lyin' Ted Cruz steals foreign policy positions. Unwholesome sandflats waited to suck his treading soles, breathing upward sewage breath, unspeeched: ooeeehah: roar of cataractic planets, globed, blazing, roaring wayawayawayawayaway. Keen glance you gave her. O, my obelisk valise, around a board of abandoned platters.
Billions of dollars can and will be one of the poor. I hope the MOVEMENT fans will go to a dentist, I wonder.
Hunger toothache. Be careful, Lyin' Ted, I have known for a false ad on me. Abbas. I said. Iran! She thought you were someone else.
There is great unity in my thoughts and prayers are with the massive stage at the same. O, my people, even on Thanksgiving, trying to walk like? Lui, c'est moi. HAPPY PRESIDENTS DAY-MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! If Mexico is unwilling to pay for the fact that I will be holding a major rally. The Republican Party. Before him the gunwale he breathes upward the stench of his buttoned trouserfly. Is it legal for a fortune for their terrible behavior The Theater must always be a smooth transition-NOT! She serves me at 43% but never liked dopey Robert Gates. Gov Mike Pence won big! Thank you to my great Turnberry Resort. I've been saying, REPEAL AND REPLACE! Just another case of BAD JUDGEMENT! Patrice that. Of all the world, including to my business, Cabinet picks and all of you in every category. With woman steps she followed: the nacheinander. Is President Obama going to The Army-Navy Game was fantastic! Old Kilkenny: saint Canice, Strongbow's castle on the low rocks, swirling, passing, chafing against the Washington insiders, just like our government! Listen.
Looking for something lost in a tweet as the head centre got away, authentic version. Feel. After he woke me last night same dream or was it? No-one: none to me! This is a hit ad against me misrepresents the final debate and it will sell its product back into the U.S.!
Raw facebones under his feet sinking again slowly in the moon, his bat sails bloodying the sea and wet sand slapped his boots. Don't let them keep it going. Belly without blemish, bulging big, a disaster. O, touch me soon, now. We are proud of the moon. Fang, I won in a short while—In addition to winning the Presidency is that, I wonder, with upstiffed omophorion, with that money like a rock in the cakey sand dough. Any negative polls are fake news, just like I did in the cakey sand dough. Kasich has just attacked in Louvre Museum in Paris; boul' Mich', I had land under my feet. Lots of support! Great Again. Bernie. Know that old lay? Loose tobaccoshreds catch fire: a fourworded wavespeech: seesoo, hrss, rsseeiss, ooos. I only wish my wonderful daughter Tiffany could have been doing, for her misconduct? A quiver of minnows, fat of a spongy titbit, flash through the nebeneinander ineluctably! Yes, but I will be AMERICA FIRST! Pretenders: live their lives. Their blood is in our souls do you know I will hold a press conference in the Southeastern United States Supreme Court. Just leaving Miami for Houston, Oklahoma and Colorado. None of your medieval abstrusiosities. You were a student, weren't you? Take a look at what is going to write with letters for titles. I want change-Crooked Hillary despite the really bad judgement. Paul Ryan, a disaster for Ohio, and plenty of it-but we will MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Moving through the worst economic deal in US history. If you can put your five fingers through it howsomever. Hillary will finally close the deal with Bernie. Heavy of the late Patk MacCabe, relict of the diaphane in. Clouding over. —Sit down or by the edge of the south wall. Landing in New Hampshire tonight! But he must send me La Vie de Jesus by M. Leo Taxil. A porterbottle stood up, forward, back.
Bernie stands for opposite! There all the time, energy and money. You told the Clongowes gentry you had an uncle a judge, many of her sunshade. Bringing his host down and kneeling he heard twine with his aunt Sally? I living breathe, tread dead dust, devour a urinous offal from all dead. AMERICA GREAT AGAIN The protesters in California were thugs and criminals. Why, I tell you the reason why. The Wikileaks e-mail case and the Dems are making up phony polls in order to advance her career. Signatures of all free people's, and getting worse. ISIS-it will cost her at the results under his peep of day boy's hat. We are winning and the rigged system under which we are all watching take place this year and Dems: In my opinion, the panthersahib and his family, on sand, trotting, sniffing on all fours, again reared up and pawed them, the things I am caught in this burning scene. Great Again! The grainy sand had gone from under a midden of man's ashes. I will be greatly strengthened and our other enemies are watching. They can't even send emails without putting entire nation at risk? See you soon! Full fathom five thy father lies. Language no whit worse than his. Only a fool would believe that Crooked Hillary Clinton is a very, very like a rock in the cakey sand dough. I conceived it with millions of jobs. —blind bodies, the nearing tide, figures, two. They clasped and sundered, did the coupler's will. Bernie Sanders too hard yet because I love watching what he did? Close in polls! And Monsieur Drumont, famous journalist, Drumont, gentleman poet. For whom? Whusky! Water cold soft. Buss her, unless he is. Keen glance you gave her.
While I am spending a lot myself and also helping others. Remembering thee, O the boys of Kilkenny are stout roaring blades. The polls are looking good and brilliant man, veil, orangeblossoms, drove out the road to Malahide. A E, pimander, good shepherd of men. Four more years of Barack Obama and that’s what you’ll get if you died to all for your support! Creation from nothing. Bag of corpsegas sopping in foul brine.
O, O. He turned northeast and crossed the firmer sand towards the drier sand, on sand, dabbling, delving and stopped to listen to the sun. You are walking through it it is #1 trending. She thought you wanted a cheese hollandais. Will reverse Obama's Executive Orders and concessions towards Cuba until freedoms are restored. #Trump2016 Can you imagine if the Dems have always had a massive landslide. Postprandial. If I were suddenly naked here as I sit? She serves me at his beck. By them, sure. I am not mandated to do with the dents jaunes. When I put my face into it in the cakey sand dough. Found drowned. Here lies poor dogsbody's body. You prayed to the sun. She had no navel. So interesting that Sanders beat Crooked Hillary Clinton will be handing over my Twitter account for tonight's #debate #MakeAmericaGreatAgain I will sign the first ballot and are not hostile. It's Stephen, you can put your five fingers through it howsomever. In order to elect Crooked Hillary Clinton?
In long lassoes from the starving cagework city a horde of jerkined dwarfs, my dimber wapping dell!
Street money on ads saying I don't know Putin, have been much easier for me as his yokefellow, our country, have totally energized America!
Shouldering their bags and, rising, flowing. No, they sigh. His hand groped vainly in his pockets. Lump of love. #ImWithYou How quickly people forget that Crooked Hillary's V.P. pick said this morning on the tawny waters leaves lie wide. The Club For Growth said in an extortion attempt, just put up a story about me. Terrible attacks in NY, NJ and my eyes. My economic policy speech. Proudly walking. IT WILL CHANGE! She trudges, schlepps, trains, drags, trascines her load. From before the victory speech and after the election.
I have NOTHING to do with a guy who likes me much better results! A bloated carcass of a dog all over the sand furrows, along by the shipworm, lost Armada. These heavy sands are language tide and wind have silted here. When will our so-called Obama years. My Latin quarter hat. Many agree. His shadow lay over the place. Kasich and that is before she found out the road to Malahide. Day! Then from the Cock lake the water flowed full, covering greengoldenly lagoons of sand quickly, quickly!
Licentious men. Unheeded he kept by them as they came towards the drier sand, dabbling, delving and stopped to listen to the Blessed Virgin that you might not have watched my standing ovation speech in Cuba, especially in the sand: then his forepaws dabbled and delved. I will have set the all time!
Enjoy the #SuperBowl and then they are weary; and, lifting them again, finely shaded, with a grief and kickshaws, a saucer of acetic acid in her hand gentle, the Dalcassians, of hopes, conspiracies, of Bride Street. Glue em well. Now that African-American voters-but I am caught in this burning scene. Through the barbacans the shafts of light are moving ever, slowly ever as my feet. The threat from radical Islamic terrorism, as usual, bad trade deals or that I raised/gave! Bag of corpsegas sopping in foul brine. $50 billion in the army. I am the one person she doesn't want to refocus NATO on terrorism as well as current mission, but the biased media-but they are just made up nonsense to steal the election results. I have a red nose. After he woke me last night the big numbers going-VOTE TRUMP! Remembering thee, O the boys of Kilkenny Weak wasting hand on mine. Attending Chief Ryan Owens' Dignified Transfer yesterday with my voice and my eyes. Can't believe these totally phoney stories, 100% made up by a lot of money to our great election victory. Just you give it a fair trial. Cocklepickers. The boys of Kilkenny Weak wasting hand on mine. Dead breaths I living breathe, tread dead dust, devour a urinous offal from all dead.
He takes me, for, O Sion. #VoteTrump today!
She always kept things decent in the mirror, stepping forward to being at the Berrien County Courthouse in St. Of Ireland, the bark of their shuttered cottage: and that is it that the fubsy widow in front might lift her clothes still more from the beginning of NAFTA with massive numbers of Pantalon Blanc et Culotte Rouge; a blue French telegram, curiosity to show: Mother dying come home father.
Here we go-Enjoy! Schluss. Faces of Paris, unsought by any save by me. Crooked Hillary knew the fix was in Paris; boul' Mich', I was a big federal lawsuit similar in certain ways to the Dallas & Arizona papers & now Lyin’ Ted & others are copying me. Senate. For whom? Jobs, trade, a panther, got in spousebreach, vulturing the dead dog's bedraggled fell. You are walking through it howsomever. On the top of the air high spars of a silent tower, entombing their—blind bodies, the superman. Among gumheavy serpentplants, milkoozing fruits, where on the team and staff and hismy sandal shoon. A side eye at my side.
You prayed to the sun he bent over far to a dentist, I wonder, by Christ! Yes, sir? That will end in a massive victory in becoming the Ohio Republican Party. Very impressive people! From before the criminal investigation announcement on Friday afternoon! What about that, eh? Then from the telepromter!
France on edge again. Thank you for the Republican Primaries. Sell your soul for that, I wonder. Crooked Hillary's bad judgement. Womb of sin. Seems not. Lawn Tennyson, gentleman poet.
Out quickly, quickly! Will he bring the energizer to D.C. on January 20th. Out of that wonderful state. Fantastic people! Moi, je suis socialiste. I just simply stood pale, silent, bayed about.
In long lassoes from the undertow, bobbing a pace a porpoise landward. Goes like this. Paff! Sands and stones. All talk, no less! What else were they invented for? It has been doing from the undertow, bobbing a pace a porpoise landward. Morose delectation Aquinas tunbelly calls this, brown eyes saltblue.
Into the ineluctable modality of the tide he saw the writhing weeds lift languidly and sway reluctant arms, hising up their own rally. Well: slainte!
Sen. McCain should not have watched ISIS and all. Yes, evening will find a good job if he was!
Monkwords, marybeads jabber on their creepystools in heaven spilt from their pintpots, loudlatinlaughing: Euge! Wrist through the braided jesse of her sunshade. Shoot him to bloody bits with a grief and kickshaws, a silent tower, entombing their—blind bodies, the lemon houses. Come. My Latin quarter hat. Shoot him to bloody bits with a grief and kickshaws, a lady of letters. Dominie Deasy kens them a'. ObamaCare is no longer affordable! Non fromage.
Crowd was fantastic! That's why she won't. Mrs Florence MacCabe, deeply lamented, of Arthur Griffith now, A E, pimander, good shepherd of men. I will REPEAL AND REPLACE! Old Deasy's letter.
Her fancyman is treating two Royal Dublins in O'Loughlin's of Blackpitts. Last rally of the diaphane. Hillary Clinton’s open borders are tearing American families apart. And at the FBI and to constantly be on the win. Then he was caught by a lot myself and also helping others. No, they do.
Diaphane, adiaphane. My Latin quarter hat. Under its leaf he watched through peacocktwittering lashes the southing sun. I would like to thank everyone for making it hard for our country has been praising the Trans Pacific Partnership and has been wrong for 2yrs-an embarrassed loser, but look what they did for Hillary Clinton likes to talk about the altar's horns, the steeds of Mananaan. A bolt drawn back and Walter welcomes me. I will like! Feel. Gaze. Put me on to Edenville. I tell you. Stephen lately? I must. I was too, made not begotten.
Postprandial. Doesn't see me.
But he must send me La Vie de Jesus by M. Leo Taxil. Nobody can beat me on to Edenville. New Hampshire today, home on furlough, lapped warm milk with me in the election are doing so badly-I will fight for the Republican nomination at 9:00 A.M. to talk about the Constitution but doesn't say that if no more, a buckler of taut vellum, no less!
I was imitating a reporter. The man that was drowned nine days ago off Maiden's rock. Rhythm begins, you mug. Then from the suck and turned back by the horrors we are all looking for a movement! From this moment on, do you not? And after?
Wow, television ratings just out book-THE FIELD OF FIGHT-by sources-that no charges will be making a major announcement concerning Carrier A.C. Like I said. Dogskull, dogsniff, eyes on the Nore. Thank you! Hillary Clinton except for the hospitality tear the blank end off.
They do anything to belittle.
I never met former Defense Secretary Robert Gates. He stopped, ran back. You're your father's son. None of your damned lawdeedaw airs here. The new air greeted him, harping in wild nerves, wind of wild air of seeds of brightness. Then, separately she stated, He said Kasich should get out for review and negotiation. O yes, that's all right. Pretending to speak broken English as you dragged your valise, porter threepence, across the slimy pier at Newhaven. He slunk back in a curve. His lips lipped and mouthed fleshless lips of air: mouth to her mouth's kiss.
Dominie Deasy kens them a'. His hand groped vainly in his pockets. Let Stephen in. Tell Pat you saw me, manshape ineluctable, call it his postprandial. The melon he had anything to belittle-totally out of control, and ISIS across the sweep of sand, on boulders. Who? What is going to apologize to me for a dun, peer out from a different point of view-NO DEALS, NO NOTHING! Is it legal for a one week notice, the dog. The ONLY bad thing about winning the Presidency, we simply must dress the character. Why in? Mrs Florence MacCabe, relict of the moon. Tremendous love and enthusiasm in the cakey sand dough. They came down the shelving shore flabbily, their splayed feet sinking again slowly in new sockets. His feet marched in sudden proud rhythm over the sand again with a herring? Focus on tax reform, healthcare and so did I. Chicago murder rate is record setting-4,331 shooting victims with 762 murders in 2016. He rooted in the gros lots. His breath hangs over our saucestained plates, the dishonest and corrupt media covered me honestly and didn't put false meaning into the U.S. Wisconsin, many of her sisterhood lugged me squealing into life. Sell your soul for that, you see the tide he saw the writhing weeds lift languidly and sway reluctant arms, hising up their petticoats, in her courts, she, she. Papa's little bedpal. I'll tell you.
Media Research final numbers on November 8th, Election Day, join me in the brightness, delta of Cassiopeia, worlds. Hillary knew the fix was in Paris; boul' Mich', I don't want another four years of Obama and Crooked Hillary Clinton cannot even bring herself to say and write whatever they want even if it is hard to Make America Great Again. Pain is far smarter than Harry R and has been largely forgotten, should immediately resign in disgrace! I'm president! The people of Colorado where over one million people watched the Inauguration, 11 million more votes than she did not know me but attacked last night to a great movement is verified, and the great libraries of the mole he lolloped, dawdled, smelt a rock and from under his peep of day boy's hat. Hide gold there. Flat I see you at 11:00 P.M. today at Trump Tower! Flat I see, then think distance, near, a silent tower, entombing their—blind bodies, the bark of their applause? Great hate and sickness! No new deals will be forgotten again. This will end when I was too, made not begotten. A E, pimander, good shepherd of men.
—Tatters! Sir.
I could not save her. The Electoral College in that she did! On immigration, with its poor coverage and massive influx of refugees allowed into U.S. since travel reprieve hail from seven suspect countries. Licentious men. The so-called A list celebrities are all wanting tixs to the Governor of California and won even bigger than expected. If Russia or any other candidate. His speckled body ambled ahead of them coloured. I am lonely here. Something he buried there, the stoneheaps of dead builders, a scullion crowned. Well done Megyn—In addition to winning the Presidency. Pain is far.
The Democrats are overplaying their hand. Shouldering their bags and, whispered to, they will vote for Clinton! Bag of corpsegas sopping in foul brine. The rally in Chicago. Have you read his F? Numerous patriots will be the Republican Party. Flat I see, then dropped me over locker room remarks! Bernie Sanders says, she draws a toil of waters amid seasnakes, rearing horses, rocks. Very nice! We will unite and we will soon be making a very dishonest to supporters to do so by bringing back jobs! I can fix this problem!
Sands and stones. Illstarred heresiarch' In a Greek watercloset he breathed his last: euthanasia. In the last 24 hrs. One of her sisterhood lugged me squealing into life. I want puce gloves. No, I said LEAVE will win! Seems not. MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! REPEAL AND REPLACE! Exactly: and no wonder, with that money? O, that's all right. Kinch here. Also, Crooked Hillary Clinton is like Occupy Wall Street, and all. He stared at them with mute bearish fawning. Thanks Carrier I will stop this fast! All days make their end. The media lies to make the weakening of the mole of boulders.
The simple pleasures of the intellect, Lucifer, dico, qui nescit occasum. Hillary. VOTE TRUMP! The same Russian Ambassador that met Jeff Sessions is an attack on those who lost the election is about judgment. You were a student, weren't you?
Looking for something lost in a past life. I'm president! Obama into bad decisions she has done to the west, trekking to evening lands. My two feet in his boots.
They never discuss the real message and never will be in charge of the tower waits. Look what's happening! Here.
How to defeat radical Islam. For that are you pining, the nearing tide, figures, two. The dog's bark ran towards him, nipping and eager airs. Taken two of our vets, I wonder, or does it mean something perhaps? He has nothing to sit down on, sir.
I have ZERO investments in Russia. Papa's little bedpal. A total disgrace! Here. I shall wait. Goofy Elizabeth Warren, Hillary Clinton told the Clongowes gentry you had an uncle a judge and an uncle a judge, many very bad judgement and temperament cannot be allowed to respond? What a great job done-it is practically useless. Bernie Sanders political revolution. No black clouds anywhere, are there behind this light, darkness shining in her courts, she draws a toil of waters amid seasnakes, rearing horses, rocks. She trudges, schlepps, trains, drags, trascines her load. He will be making some very important decisions on the tawny waters leaves lie wide. My Latin quarter hat. That man led me, Napper Tandy, filing consents and common searches and a liar! Secretary of State, Hillary Clinton wants to win anymore, it all came together in the most over-JOHN WON! The United States Congress. Jesus wept: and that is the only one with judgement so bad or foolish. Wow! His human eyes scream to me out of his claws, soon ceasing, a changeling, among the spluttering resin fires. And at the Polls! They are waiting for him now. The drunken little costdrawer and his supporters. The Democrats had to knock out 16 very good, but costs are out of his green fairy as Patrice his white. Turning, he scanned the shore south, his leprous nosehole snoring to the people that were me it would be bust! Snotgreen, bluesilver, rust: coloured signs. Wombed in sin darkness I was imitating a reporter GROVELING after he changed his story. Am I not going there? Rhythm begins, you know: physiques, chimiques et naturelles. Vieille ogresse with the pus of flan breton. Looking forward to debating Crooked Hillary will sell many air conditioners! Welcome as the flowers in May. He is running back to his master and a temperament, according to Drudge, Time Magazine, Drudge etc. This joke of a rasher fried with a wedding reception. Coloured on a molten pewter surf. Shows how weak and somewhat pathetic figure, wants borders to be his, mine to be even worse. By the way go easy with that money? In a Greek watercloset he breathed his last: euthanasia. Crooked Hillary wants to save it by making very dumb political statements about me, form of forms. Of all the world, including to my surprise, and China on trade for so long, just endorsed Crooked Hillary e-mails, using even religion, against Bernie! I am President, Russia will respect us far more than they do the typical political thing and BLAME. —He has the key.
Passing now. He laps. Heavy of the visible: at least he tried hard! Her temperament is weak and ineffective leader, Paul Ryan, always fighting the dishonest and corrupt media covered me honestly and didn't put false meaning into the U.S. Mrs Florence MacCabe, relict of the GREAT, GREAT State of Arizona, and his pointer. Numbers out soon! And, spent, its speech ceases. We are going to repeal #Obamacare and give Americans many choices and much more. She, she would call my company endlessly, and it will only go further down under Clinton.
Seven people shot and killed walking her baby in Chicago.
Such bad judgement call on BREXIT-she went with Obama, is now putting out nasty negative ads against me. His mouth moulded issuing breath, a man. Under the upswelling tide he halted with stiff forehoofs, seawardpointed ears. Is that then the divine substance wherein Father and Son are consubstantial? Limits of the south wall. No, the bark of their applause? People must remember that we just had the worst president in U.S. history! They take me for a dun, peer out from a coign of vantage. They took their country back, chasing the shadow of a boat, sunk in sand. Paysayenn. I fell over a shoulder, rere regardant.
She is a BAN. From this moment on, passing, chafing against the low rocks, swirling, passing, chafing against the low rocks, cramming the scribbled note and pencil into a pock his hat. She is not qualified to be sent if you died to all for the press is so bad or, as usual, gave us ISIS, rise of Iran, #1 in terror, no problem in doing so. Sad too. Lawn Tennyson, gentleman journalist. Tim Kaine is a better deal for workers! Noon slumbers. Pathetic Our not very presidential. Dane vikings, torcs of tomahawks aglitter on their girdles: roguewords, tough nuggets patter in their pockets. To no end gathered; vainly then released, forthflowing, wending back: loom of the Howth tram alone crying to the sun. My consubstantial father's voice. I taught Patrice that.
Crooked Hillary Clinton, I will not be master of others or their slave. All kings' sons. Alo! Number one swung lourdily her midwife's bag, the TSA is falling apart, just endorsed a man who doesn't have it Great rally in Florida!
They will soon be speaking in great detail on numerous other topics of interest. There he is kneeling twang in diphthong. Call me Richie. The Business Council of Washington? Yes, I said NO, they have no deals in Russia. I? Vieille ogresse with the dents jaunes. A seachange this, frate porcospino. Why is that she is saying we need her to be mine. And, spent, its speech ceases. Schluss. We must restore law and order and protect America! Get down, is very much forward to it. My handkerchief. A misbirth with a bang shotgun, bits man spattered walls all brass buttons.
The boys of Kilkenny Weak wasting hand on mine. Media should also apologize For many years our country. How the head centre got away, authentic version. The movement toward a country! The Bruce's brother, the more the more. The aunt thinks you killed your mother.
Five, six: the tanyard smells. Terrible jobs report. Their dog ambled about a world that doesn’t exist. Yes, but costs are out of business. No, uncle Richie—Call me Richie. Seems not. I am running against the low rocks, in whispering water swaying and upturning coy silver fronds. I go to yours! Sir Lout's toys. The flood is following me. Not this Monsieur, I bet. Today there were terror attacks in NY, NJ and MN this weekend at The Business Council of Washington. The United Nations will make education a far more interesting with a wedding reception. My father's a bird, he scanned the shore south, his feet sinking in the morning, Staten Island. Love the fact that President Obama is not the way our democracy. Pricing for the U.S., health care and tax bills are being crafted which take me for $1,000 votes were illegal. We are talking to many groups and it will just go on forever.
If it were up to you If the Republican Party. Flutier. Couch a hogshead with me in the other devil's name? Fumbally's lane that night: the nacheinander. The froeken, bonne a tout faire, who is self-funding his campaign. Media rigging election! My Latin quarter hat. What about what?
#Ulysses (novel)#James Joyce#1922#automatically generated text#Patrick Mooney#Proteus#politics#American politics#presidential elections#21st century#Twitter#Donald Trump#2016#2017
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