#2- the angst of arthur hurting people around him literally up to the very end despite him being (to me) a very affectionate guy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ijustwant2write · 4 years

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Sweet Boy-Bonnie Gold x Reader x Finn Shelby (Part 5/?)

(GIF credit to @discgirl)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

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Tags: @stressedandbandobessed7771 @bethany-taylo @lovelynerdytraveler @savvy7392 @kingarthurscat @smallheathgangsters @soleil-dor @alyse45 @bloodorangemoonlight @amirahiddleston @captivatedbycillianmurphy @jenepleurepasbaby @haphazardhufflepuff @ravenoussss @ophelias-flower-bed @peakascum @mzcrazy2

Summary: Although the boys thought that they were out of the woods and away from danger, they find that they have made matters much worse, and (Y/N) is in the midst of it all.

Characters: Bonnie Gold x Reader, Finn Shelby x Reader, Thomas Shelby x Reader (platonic)

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of sex, guns, violence, slight fluff, angst

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(Y/N)’s P.O.V

Bonnie let himself in, nonchalantly taking off his peaky cap as he walked through. I quickly locked the door, rushing after him before something broke out between the boys (it was bound to happen). Standing in between them, I glanced at them both, hating how tense their shoulders were, the anger in their eyes towards each other.

“Bonnie, I’m so glad you’re alright.” I said, resisting the urge to hug him.“Has something happened?”

“No, just wanted to make sure you were OK over here.” his eyes never moved away from Finn’s face.

“I’m fine, it’s just Finn and I.”

“That’s why he’s come here.” Finn spat.“Thinks I’m gonna try something.”

“I’m safe, don’t worry Bonnie. But you might as well stay, you shouldn’t have come all the way here at this time of night. Especially after what happened to you both.”

“Thank you (Y/N).”

“Where’s he going to sleep?” Finn protested.

“Well, the only other space is in my bed.”

I enjoyed the scowl on Finn’s face, it almost made me smirk. After our break up, Finn brought many whores into his home and office, parading them in front of me. I would never resort to fucking random men to make him jealous, or to spite him; but this was too good of an opportunity to miss. And he had no reason or excuse to argue back.

“That’s fine with me.” Bonnie smiled.

“Good, because it’s late, and I need to sleep this whole thing off. Good night Finn.”

We left his shocked expression as we left for my bedroom, and I tried to keep calm as my heartbeat increased. I knew Bonnie would be respectful and he wouldn’t expect anything to happen. However, I hadn’t had someone sleep beside me in a long time. As he closed the door, I pulled him closer, hugging him tight against me. Letting out a relieved sigh, I squeezed him slightly, scared that he might be hurt.

“I was so worried.” I breathed out.

“I’m here, I’m safe.” he whispered, one arm wrapped around my lower back as his other hand was gently placed on the back of my head.

I pulled away, both of us keeping our arms on each other.“Have you seen your family?”

He nodded.“They know I’m alive.”

“I’m afraid I don’t have any spare clothes for you or Finn. I’m not sure how comfortable you’ll be.”

“Well, I sleep best in the nude but-”

I rolled my eyes at his cheeky grin.“If you want to sleep in a comfy bed, you’ll keep your clothes on.”

We fell into silence as we rounded each side of the bed, slowly slipping under the sheets. Of course I was a little nervous, but Bonnie was also hesitant. Perhaps he didn’t want to over step the boundaries that we had already crossed. Both of us were laying on our backs, looking up at the ceiling. A minute or so passed before Bonnie broke the silence.

“How come you didn’t let Finn in your bed?” he softly asked.

I sighed.“The trust I used to have for him just isn’t there anymore, not under these circumstances.”

“What do you mean?”

“For instance, if I was in some sort of danger, or a man started harassing me on a night out, then I wouldn’t doubt him stepping in. But he really hurt me. And how he acted after the breakup only rubbed salt into a fresh wound.”

I hear him move against the sheets, making my head lull to the side and seeing him facing me on his side.

“Isaiah told me about that. Said that Finn had women going home with him almost every night.”

I scoffed.“I was willing to be civil with him, to make work a little easier, you know? Especially since the Shelby’s have been so good to me, and we live so close to each other.”

“I suppose it’s hard to get rid of that label.”

“Of being Finn Shelby’s ex-girlfriend? Yeah, no one seems to take an interest anymore.”

“I did.”

Finn’s P.O.V

My hands clenched up into tight fists, hating how easily she was opening up to him...but also hating how much truth there was behind everything (Y/N) said. Sat beside the door (so they wouldn’t see my shadow under the door frame), I listened to everything as soon as it shut. It made my skin crawl to think that he was lying beside her, in the same spot as I was in; (Y/N) was particular to which side she slept on, it stayed the same for the whole time we were together, she had her side, I had mine, until we cuddled up to one another.

It suddenly went quiet, and after straining to hear anything, I figured that they finally went to sleep. Silently moving from my spot, I saw what I had ended up sleeping on, groaning as I collapsed onto it, knowing I would never get comfortable on it.

I was woken with something hitting my face, yelping as I bolted upright. Bonnie chucked the cushion he hit me with, though I caught it this time. My eyes were squinting from the natural light coming from the windows, and I could only just make out his silhouette as he walked away.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I moaned as I rubbed my neck, it was aching after my awkward position.

“Waking you up before (Y/N).” Bonnie simply stated.

“Why?”

He leaned against the kitchen counter.“So you can leave.”

I huffed.“Shut up mate.”

He scoffed.“I’m your mate again?”

I didn’t reply.

“You’ve hurt her enough. I don’t know why I agreed to let you come here in the first place.”

Before I could snap back, there was loud shouts and screams echoing through the block. Both of us rushed to the window, faces up against the glass to try and see what was happening. Being blinders, we were on high alert, however, I hoped it was just a fight between a group of people; that hope disappeared when gunshots went off.

“Get (Y/N)!” I ordered Bonnie, who sprinted towards her room.

“What the fuck have you got me in now Finn?!” (Y/N) exclaimed as she was pulled from her room.

“We need to get out of here.” I said slipping on my jacket, checking how many rounds were in my gun.“Bonnie, you got your gun?”

He nodded as he opened a side of his jacket, revealing his weapon.

(Y/N) was shoving on her shoes, grabbing a random coat before racing back to her bedroom. Before we could question her, she had emerged with her own gun, the gun I had given her for emergencies only.

“You remember how to use it?” I checked.

“Yes, though I don’t want to use it.”

“You won’t have to.” Bonnie tried to reassure her.

This wasn’t a time to make witty remarks. Cautiously opening the front door, I stepped out, looking left and right to check the coast was clear. Gesturing for them to follow me, Bonnie and (Y/N) stayed behind as I went ahead, peeking around every corner for anyone who looked dangerous. We had made it out of the building, but it was too suspicious to me that there hadn’t been anymore noise.

“Right, we need to head to the shop, it’s our safest bet.” I stated as we made it to the streets.

I hadn’t even taken another step when someone shouted,“There’s the peaky bastards!”

Immediately sprinting, (Y/N) screamed out as gunshots went off. Ducking behind a car, I quickly shot back at them, Bonnie joining me as (Y/N) stayed hidden away. I recognised them, they were the ones that were ordered to beat us up after the meeting. It didn’t make sense why they were back, they had got their punches in already, literally.

“What the fuck do we do now?!” (Y/N) cried.

There was no way for us to run out in the open again. There were four men our age, all with guns, and even if (Y/N) had a good aim, it would still be hard to gain the upper hand. I couldn’t think of a way to get out of this, not all three of us anyway. As the firing ceased for a moment, I called out to them.

“Let these two go, I’m the Shelby here!”

“Finn, what are you doing?” (Y/N) hissed at me.

“Finn, you can’t risk it!” Bonnie also said.

“They won’t say anything, just let them past safely.”

“Oi!” another voice called out.

Shit.

Bonnie’s P.O.V

Tommy had shown up, waltzing around the corner of a house with Arthur, Isaiah and four other peaky blinders. Finn’s eyes widened with panic, and I too felt his fear; we were going to be in deep shit.

“Thought you made things even last night lads.” Tommy tutted.

“Your boys disrespected my father! They were lucky they got away alive!” one of the shooters spat back.

“Right, well, this problem, is between me and your father, alright? And I would hate to be the bearer of bad news.”

“What bad news?”

Tommy said nothing more, except pulling his coat back to show his gun, as did the other blinders. There was more of us, they were outnumbered. Glancing around the car, I saw any colour on the boy’s faces drain away, some of them already taking slow steps back. The power Tommy held was admirable, though also something to be very scared of.

“Fine, but my father will not be mocked again. This isn’t the last time you’ll see us!” the son shouted at the top of his voice, echoing down the street.

“You three.” Tommy raised a finger at us and gestured us to go to him.

Finn sighed, putting his gun away as he stood. I copied, holding my hands out to (Y/N). She didn’t look at me, shakily pushing herself off the ground, crossing her coat tighter around her. Her head was hung low as we approached Tommy, awaiting a telling off like small children.

“It’s alright!” Tommy suddenly shouted, making us flinch.“Just boys being boys!”

He looked up and around at the houses, and we realised how many people were watching. People were timidly looking through their curtains, scared that they would be hurt, even if they weren’t part of the situation.

“You got your keys (Y/N)?” Tommy asked, a lot quieter now.

She nodded, reaching into her pocket and fishing them out. They rattled against each other as her hand was still shaking. Tommy gently took them from her, handing them to Arthur.

“Brother, take three of these men and check (Y/N)’s building, then her flat. Make sure it’s safe for her.” he instructed.

“Alright.” Arthur mumbled, already walking away.

“Isaiah, help the poor girl to walk.”

Isaiah was hesitant to hold her, or even offer his arm, knowing that Finn and I would rather be doing that. But I held my tongue. She wasn’t happy with us, we had put her in danger, something she had avoided since splitting up with Finn. And it wasn’t just his fault this time, it was mine too. I was the one who said I would never want to put her in that kind of situation, yet here we stood, almost with bullet holes in our bodies.

“We’re all going to have a chat, and you’re going to explain everything.”

(Y/N)’s P.O.V

Isaiah let me loop my arm through his, and I unintentionally grasped at it. I could feel myself crying, but I remained silent, still shocked from what had happened. It had all been so fast. Polly always told me that I had to be ready for this lifestyle, and I had been, the most danger I had been in was a threat from a club owner, who’s business had been taken over by the gang. Although he was rough, he never got to me, and we were always one step ahead. Of course there had been the insults thrown my way, and the name calling; however, that never hurt me, not when I was with Finn.

It was still too early for the shop to be open, making it a perfect place for Tommy to yell at us. I was sat in the seat opposite to Tommy at his desk, whilst he instructed the boys to stand either side of me. I couldn’t bring myself to look at Tommy, embarrassed that he had to come and save our arses.

“Look at her.” Tommy grumbled.“Look at the state she is in. You two did that.”

Finn tried to speak.“Tom-”

“You both owe an apology to (Y/N).”

“I’m sorry (Y/N),” Finn started,“I truly am. I never meant for any of that to happen. You took me into your home and looked after me, this isn’t how you should be repaid.”

“(Y/N), you know I would never want you hurt. And I feel ashamed that I wasn’t able to protect you better. I’m sorry, and I’m sorry that I broke my promise.” Bonnie said.

I hadn’t looked at either of them, still fuming inside, tempted to scream at them. When I remained silent, Tommy cleared his throat.

“Right you two, fuck off.”

Wait, why was I staying? If this was some bullshit about how I should have turned them away after fixing them up, I wasn’t going to stand for it. After the boys slowly exited the office, and as soon as the door was shut, Tommy lit a cigarette.

“Are you alright?”

That shocked me.

“Um, yes, I am now.” I mumbled, finally looking him in the eye.

“I know what’s going on here. Love triangles are dangerous.”

I rolled my eyes.“It’s not like that.”

“You should be flattered, having two boys pine after you.”

I didn’t know how to reply.

“I think you need to stay with Pol for now. Just to make sure you’re safe.”

“You don’t seriously think I’ve been dragged into this, do you?”

“I’m afraid so. You know the drill. They’ve seen you with two blinders, it doesn’t matter what you mean to them, it still sends a message.”

I sighed, suddenly feeling a wave of tears come on.“I thought this had all been thrown away after Finn forgot about me.”

“He never forgot about you.”

“Were we looking at the same person?”

“We were. And you know that deep down. But you need to make a decision about all of this.”

“Yes, I’ll stay with Polly.”

“Not that decision. There’s going to be a lot more people effected by this if you don’t sort this all out now. And (Y/N)?”

“Hm?”

“Choose the right one.”

#bonnie gold #bonnie gold imagine #bonnie gold imagines #bonnie gold x reader #bonnie gold one shot #finn shelby #finn shelby imagine #finn shelby imagines #finn shelby x reader #finn shelby one shot #peaky blinders #peaky blinders bbc #bbc peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders imagines #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders one shot

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oceangenasi · 3 years

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D&P and Merther for the shipping ask game???

Yax I would die for you except you’d probably stop me from dying with your EMT wizardry and then where would we be

🖤 D/P 💙

1. What made you ship it? I have eyes? But seriously, I like to joke about how my ships are either softboys and their badass women or queerbait m/m angst.... and then there’s this shining exception. A canon m/m ship that gets a love story and a happy ending :’’’) I started watching the show very casually, knowing David was queer but not that D/P was endgame and then the next thing I knew I had ascended to another plane of existence

2. What are your favorite things about the ship? I am never not thinking about the Dynamic... it’s the complementary aspects of their personalities for me!

You’ve got David: flamboyantly queer and deeply dramatic, who’s had intense emotions his whole life that have scared people away but he’s also brave and unique and creative and wonderful. He’s everything that Patrick didn’t know he needed. He’s been hurt a lot of times and he almost doesn’t believe that he’s capable of being loved so wholly and completely. Enter Patrick.

Patrick is so straight-laced and repressed and invested in being well-liked that he had built up a whole seemingly perfect life that was making him deeply unhappy. I don’t think that even Patrick knew he was capable of loving David the way he does, because he hadn’t cast off his old life and gone on that emotional journey until he met David. His “you make me feel right” speech is my favorite bit of the entire show. Patrick found himself in finding David.

They balance each other: Patrick grounds David, providing him the unconditional love that David can flourish with, and David brings beauty and color into Patrick’s life.

I also adore how much casual intimacy they get on screen, all the kisses and shoulder touches. It’s incredibly healing to watch after so much queer angst and suffering, when we get representation at all.

3. Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship? Yeah, Patrick’s not perfect. I get very pissy when people trash David for his actions surrounding the barbecue and/or the wedding and imply he was being unfair/selfish -- because even if he was, Patrick has a responsibility to communicate his concerns if he wants David to respond to them. Patrick has a tendency to avoid/repress his feelings and that can be incredibly damaging in a relationship if not addressed. David can’t read Patrick’s mind, nor should he be expected to. He doesn’t need to magically intuit Patrick’s distress from Patrick’s micro-expressions or whatever the fuck -- Patrick needs to step up and tell David when he doesn’t like David’s behavior. Yes, I’m projecting like hell when it comes to this but it is something that made me furious during season 6 and the discourse surrounding it.

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💙 Merthur ❤

1. What made you ship it? I watched the first episode and was like “oh wow this show is even gayer than I’d heard it was.” No but seriously... fellas, is it gay to be literally and canonically someone’s other half? Fellas, is it gay to stare intensely into each other’s eyes at every given opportunity? Fellas, it is gay to dedicate your entire life to serving and protecting someone? Fellas, is it--

2. What are your favorite things about the ship? ah jeez where do I even start... Arthur is Merlin’s whole world. Merlin’s magic is “only for Arthur” and Merlin’s magic is... everything he is. I literally don’t know how you could read that as Merlin not being in love with Arthur. I genuinely and honestly think this interpretation is backed up by commentary by the actors and writers: Merlin loves Arthur, and that’s not even a point of debate. I adore Merlin as a character (son boy baby sweetheart sunshine child) and his unwavering faith in Arthur, his dedication, his tenderness, the years spent protecting someone who didn’t even know how much Merlin had done for him.... it gets me good.

And then there’s what Merlin is to Arthur! Setting aside the stuff Arthur doesn’t know about, which I will talk about in a moment, Merlin is possibly the only person in Arthur’s life who has always, always treated him as a person first and a prince second. Merlin’s unwavering faith and freely given friendship are because he sees the best in Arthur, not because of Arthur’s hereditary right to the throne. Merlin is Arthur’s first and truest friend -- I know the knights and Gwen care for him, but there is a component of social discrepancy to their relationship that Merlin simply has ignored. Merlin’s disrespect is because he fundamentally views Arthur as his equal, which is a gift Arthur didn’t even know he needed. Arthur was touch-starved, emotionally repressed, and incredibly lonely before Merlin came into his life. (Yes, the similarities between my two OTPs are well-known to me.) Just because Arthur struggles to express his emotions (thanks, Uther) and doesn’t have the same plot opportunities as Merlin to show how much he’d sacrifice for Merlin, doesn’t mean he doesn’t love Merlin as deeply as Merlin does him. This is why I like writing Arthur POV so much -- I like describing how fundamental and immutable a concept Merlin is to him. He takes Merlin for granted, yes, because there is literally nobody else that he is so vulnerable around or trusts so completely. This is why the magic reveal was so temporarily devastating to Arthur -- it broke something he’d built his entire life around. Or at least, that’s what he thought.

3. Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?

Canon is a trash fire and I hate a lot of things about season 5, because it had some stellar opportunities that got rushed and squished by the way they timed the plot.... but I actually really, really like the finale. I think that considering what they’d done with the plot up to that point, it was brilliantly executed and gorgeously acted. There wasn’t enough time to do everything I would have liked with the magic reveal*, but in the last episode they hit every one of my buttons at least once. Arthur witnessing a competent Merlin, Arthur experiencing realistic grief and anger but being able to see how deeply Merlin loves him... Setting aside the plotholes and the timing, the people who made the show realized what was critically important in the finale, and it was digging deep into the relationship between Merlin and Arthur. This is why it completely and totally wrecks me, incidentally, and why I can’t watch the last part of the episode because it actually unhinges me too much. I’m not joking, I went into some kind of grief spiral the first time I saw it that took me a literal week to recover from. I care about things too much and feel my feelings too intensely, but we been knew.

Oh, and an even spicier opinion on later seasons/the finale: I don’t think that Morgana “isn’t really evil” or that her fall was “unnecessary.” I think that Morgana was indeed capable of being a fiercely good and loving person, but I also think that people with the kind of anger she carries can be dragged into some very dark places. I don’t think it was unrealistic, I think it was painful to watch, and there’s a difference. She didn’t get the support she needed -- she was gaslighted, manipulated, and tortured -- and I think that the same person who could be good in another situation is absolutely capable of becoming monstrous, considering the hand she was dealt. I have very similar opinions on her as I do on Anakin Skywalker, which is to say: her evil was both believable and tragic. She was a product of her circumstances, but her actions are not excusable, and she is responsible for how she responded to her trauma.

*I can and will read every damn magic reveal on ao3 because it’s really important to me that Arthur understand what Merlin has done for him. Truly, truly conceptualizes how crucial Merlin has been in helping him build his kingdom. That’s the one thing that I wanted to see so badly that never happened in canon.

#tangled pixel harpsichord #answered #oh god oh jesus I've written a pair of essays here #if anyone actually reads this entire thing I will propose marriage to you on the spot #bbc merlin #sc #schitt's creek #merthur #david/patrick

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vaniri · 5 years

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Eye of the storm [Arthur Morgan x Reader] - CHAPTER 1/2

warnings: tuberculosis 😧 (this fic takes place in the middle of chapter 6), light smut (the good stuff comes in chapter 2 😏), a bit of angst? Just loving our ill cowboy ;_;

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You sighed tiredly, leaning against the Saint Denis Stable wall. It was a hard day and you would be the happiest person alive if it finally ended. First, the stagecoach you tried to rob turned out to be completely empty, as all its passengers (and their precious belongings) disembarked at Emerald Ranch. Later, when you were going back to Rhodes to have a talk with your discouraged friend, who had tipped you off about this "wonderful opportunity", you got ambushed. By the damned Lemoyne Raiders! It wasn't the first time that happened, and you were not alone, but you absolutely hated being swooped by these obstinate morons. The fight was tough, but somehow you managed to survive mostly unaffected. Unfortunately, your poor horse, your beloved four-legged friend, wasn't that lucky and got a bullet.

It didn't look that bad, but still scared the shit out of you. You loved this creature and couldn't even think of losing her. You tended to her wound the best you could, but you weren't an expert, so you decided to take her to the city, where the stable owner could examine her properly.

Now you were watching as the man carefully inspected your horse, saying nothing but getting a bit impatient. He was quiet for too long, you thought, and that made you feel uneasy. You moved your gaze to your girl, standing motionlessly where you'd halted her and letting the owner scrutinize her whole without any objections, like a good horse she definitely was. She seemed calm and relaxed under the owner's touch, but in her eyes, fixed on you all the time, you saw she was just waiting for a sign to leave this place.

In other words: she was behaving as usual. That was a good sign.

"Seems like the bullet just grazed her, it's nothing serious." The owner informed, snapping you out of your musing. "She'll be fine."

"Are you sure?" You approached him swiftly, still uncertain. "And is it the only wound? Those... people who tried to rob us, they were fierce. We got under a spray of bullets in seconds, it's a miracle we got out of there alive."

"Her wound may look serious, but I assure you, miss, that it's nothing dangerous. There's no bullet inside, that's for sure. And I didn't see any other injuries, but I'll check again to be certain. I'll clean this one so it doesn't get infected, but she needs to rest now, at least for a day or two, and she'll be fully recovered soon. Would you like to leave her here for a while?"

You were going to agree, but your answer was cut off by sudden coughing, coming from the street. Your heart lurched with fear as it was growing louder and harsher with every second. You excused yourself from the conversation and rushed out of the building, where you knew your companion had promised to wait for you, after paying a visit to the gunsmith.

You found him doubled over by the stable wall, with one of his hands resting on it for support. The other one was clutching his chest, as if trying to ease the pain the coughing was visibly causing. His fit was violent, but fortunately ended pretty quick, and the man could breathe again. He hawked up what was irritating his throat and spit it out on the muddy sidewalk. Not wanting to look at it, he raised his head and then noticed you, watching him with a worried expression on your face. He immediately wiped his mouth with the back his hand and straightened up, trying to look as if nothing had happened. But you noticed the stain of blood his mouth left on his sleeve.

"Arthur?" You didn't even try to hide your concern. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah. That's nothing." He waved his hand dismissively, covering his spit with his foot. "It's this air. Heavy with smoke from all these factories. It's hard to see anything here, let alone breathe with that shit."

You knew it wasn't the air. It was tuberculosis. It's been weeks since he got the diagnosis. During that time his health was deteriorating rapidly, due to terrible accommodation conditions, severe malnutrition, as money at camp was tight and food scarce, and constant stress and pressure some of the gang members put him under. Mostly Dutch, who was exploiting him as if he hadn't noticed the state his "best man" was in. Granted, Arthur did his best to hide the fact that many actions he used to take almost effortlessly before, now became difficult and exhausted him more with every day; but certain symptoms he'd developed were hard to miss. He couldn't deny he got weaker and visibly thinner. He blamed it on the shortage of food, but the truth was he had problems with ingesting even small meals. He had also trouble sleeping, as his coughing often jolted him out of his slumber, and when it did, his recurring night fever shot chills through his body, keeping him awake. Arthur of course tended to marginalize his condition, assured everyone who asked about his health that he was fine and his debility was just a temporary inconvenience. But you knew the truth, you saw it in his tired eyes and despondent face. Every day you watched him wither, succumb to the disease, and it filled your heart with trepidation.

"Yeah, I can feel it too." You played along, trying to lift his spirits. That illness was not only destroying him physically, but also mentally. "It burns my lungs and prickles my eyes. What an awful district to live in."

"The whole city is awful. When we're leaving?"

"Not so soon, I'm afraid. My horse needs to stay here for a while."

"How's she?"

"She'll be fine, but she needs to rest."

"You'll ride with me, then."

"We won't get to Beaver Hollow before night and I'd rather not risk getting into another shooting today." You raised your eyes to the sky. There was probably less than an hour left before the sunset, and riding through the Roanoke Ridge forest in the dark, especially when Murfrees were on the rampage, was a death wish. Which was very convenient for you - your current camp was a depressing place, where people only yelled and accused each other of being disloyal, and you took literally every opportunity to excuse yourself out of it. "Besides, you know I couldn't sleep, being so far away from my girl. It'll be better to stay around tonight."

"So we're setting camp outside the city."

"Where, in the bayou? Gators will eat us in our sleep. Or mosquitoes, those nasty little suckers. I'd rather stay here, in Saint Denis."

"I don't think it's a good idea."

"It is. The air is usually better where the saloon is, and a warm meal and some good sleep in a comfortable bed wouldn't harm you." You hopelessly believed that this could somehow improve his condition. Even a little. Because what else could you do for him? "Come on, Arthur. It's just one night, maybe two, in comfort and silence, away from all that bickering at camp. I'll pay for it. And for a bath." You eyed him up and down. "You definitely need one. With a bath lady, if you insist."

Arthur let out an exasperated sigh. He would rather sleep surrounded with gators and mosquitoes than in this damned city, but he knew better than to argue with you, you could be pretty adamant when it came to the matters involving his well-being. Besides, a warm bath didn't sound that bad. Nor did a bed that wasn't an old sleeping bag on the muddy ground. Especially if you would sleep beside him.

"Bath lady won't be necessary."

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You sat on a creaky, but fairly comfortable bed, looking at a clock standing in the corner of your rented room. It's been a while since Arthur had left to take a bath, you realized. Well, he probably needed to do more scrubbing than you could have expected. At least his absence gave you a couple minutes to just sit and enjoy your moment of respite. You could get used to living like this: having a little house, or at least a room somewhere, a quiet and warm place of your own, where no problems of this world mattered. There would be no gangs, no robberies, no obligations to Dutch or anyone else, no bounties on your heads. Just you and Arthur, living your live peacefully together.

Oh hell, the bounty! You should have checked and made sure there was no prize on Arthur's head anymore - for that bank heist the gang had pulled a couple of weeks ago - before you decided to stay here. But you didn't see any posters with his face, or even anything resembling it, on the way to the saloon, and if you remembered correctly, Arthur had visited the city several times after returning from Guarma, without getting arrested. So you could probably assume that Saint Denis had forgotten about his sins. They always did. Still, you'd rather keep a low profile, just for sure.

You flopped down on your back and sprawled comfortably on the mattress, closing your eyes. Your life would have surely been much easier and filled with fewer problems if you hadn't been an outlaw. Not that you really regretted your life choices, you would have been much worse if it wasn't for Dutch and his gang. You should consider yourself lucky; they found you in your darkest hour, took you in, and cared for you when no one else did. They taught you how to survive in this harsh world, they showed you their ways, and let you become one of them. They became your family.

A family that was being torn apart for weeks. Not many things in your life hurt you more than seeing them all like this, at each others' throats and questioning their bonds. Sometimes you felt like everything around you was falling apart. But despite the pain it caused, you had to stay strong, for your own wits and for Arthur, who needed you sane more than anything else now.

"Sleeping already?" Came unexpectedly from the door. You opened your eyes and propped yourself up on your elbows, watching your companion enter the room.

"Almost. What took you so long? I've been starting to worry that you changed your mind and went camping in the bayou."

"Can't say it ain't tempting, but no. I went downstairs, tried to eat something. But" He shook his head with resignation. "you know."

"Yeah, I do. You planning to go back there, or head to bed? Because if the former, I need to remind you that we should lay low, even more than usual. No excessive drinking, no crazy business."

"Going to bed sounds easier."

"Your kingdom awaits, then." You sat up and patted the sheets beside you. "Clothes off. This ain't your cot, you ain't going to bed in these dirty rags."

"Rags, ouch." He feigned a pained expression, but obediently took off his shoes and unbuckled his belt. "These are the finest clothes in this city."

"I see remnants of mud on your knees. And something that looks like dried blood on your shoulder."

And that blood on your sleeve.

"Your clothes may be the prettiest in the state or look like taken off a destitute, you know I don't really mind. But they're still dirty. Off with them, now."

"Fine, fine."

Not giving a damn about decency and averting your gaze, you were watching as Arthur took his vest off and shucked off his suspenders, then slid his pants down his legs and slowly unbuttoned his shirt. You saw that contented smile that tugged at his lips when he noticed how engrossed you were by his little show and you nodded appreciatively, letting him know that you really liked what you had before your eyes. Even though it wasn't the same sight as a couple of weeks ago. Sure, his muscles were still well-defined and his shoulders to hips ratio absolutely breathtaking, as you tended to describe it, but he was noticeably thinner. His union suit wasn't as tight on his body as it used to be. It hung loosely around his certain parts, indicating that the man was still losing weight, even despite your persistent attempts to keep it on a more or less constant level.

"Hey, what are you doing?" He asked surprised when you got up off the bed, at the exact same moment he sat beside you, and picked up the trousers he left on the floor, along with the rest of his clothing.

"Taking care of your rags, so they won't look like literal rags tomorrow?" You folded them neatly and put on the sofa standing by the window. You did the same with his vest, and his shirt you slung over its back. You really tried not to look at that smear of blood on its sleeve, but your eyes darted to it before you could stop yourself.

"I could do this, you know?"

"But you didn't. And if I wasn't here, you'd rather leave them scattered around the room and slip them on as you found them tomorrow. Don't say that's not true, I know you too well, Arthur Morgan. I really do."

You were always around him, since the day Dutch let you in. Something drew you to this violent, but always effective and getting his job done man, he quickly became your role model and you looked up to him in literally every aspect of your new outlaw life. You wanted to be strong like him, intimidating like him, and as good or even better at shooting than him. You were watching him at every occasion, trying to learn and mimic his moves, expressions, his ways with the gun. Arthur wasn't particularly happy that you tagged along with him wherever he went, but you were never intrusive or really bothering him, so he accepted that fact and eventually got used to your presence. Sometimes he even taught you a thing or two, just to make sure you could handle yourself well.

You didn't even realize when it turned into something more. You stopped watching and only looked at him, enthralled by his handsome features. You gave up trying to become like him and just enjoyed the time you could have spent together. You really wanted to know him better but it wasn't that easy, Arthur had built so many walls around himself that going through them seemed nearly impossible. But you were patient. You made him feel comfortable around you; you listened to what he had to say and talked when he wanted to talk. You were always the first to cheer him up when he had a bad day, you took care of him and showed affection when he needed it. You became his real friend, with who he was comfortable enough to discuss literally every matter of his life, or just sit in complete silence for hours. He didn't even realize when he fell for you, but when he did, he didn't fight it, didn't try to push you away, didn't let the fear caused by his previous experience ruin it all. He trusted you and knew that you wouldn't leave his side, no matter what.

You two were officially a couple for quite a long time now, and riding together for even longer. You robbed people together, plundered houses together, stole horses sometimes, and even started some bar fights. Well, usually you did, but Arthur always ended them. You were through a lot, shit like Blackwater included, and you knew you could always rely on each other. The bond between you two grew stronger than anyone could have ever imagined and you considered yourself the luckiest person on Earth for having Arthur in your life.

"I'll try to deal with these stains tomorrow's morning." You promised, a bit tiredly, sitting beside him.

"You don't have to. I can live being a bit dirty."

"Oh, I know. But I'll do it anyway, try to make you look like a decent man. As always, and despite your strenuous attempts to remain a dirty cowpoke. Hmm, maybe fighting with you over that matter became my hobby at some point of my life?"

"You have a very weird hobby then, miss."

"I'm of a very peculiar kind."

Arthur chuckled, lightly, so it didn't provoke any coughing.

"Yes, you are. But you know what? You could be strangest woman in this country and I would still pick you over anyone else." He declared, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you closer.

A warm smile tugged at your lips when Arthur kissed the side of your neck. He took your chin in his hand and turned your face towards his, made you look him in the eyes. Then, he gave you more soft kisses, first on your forehead, next cheeks, nose, and the last one where you wanted it the most. It always surprised you how gentle that usually tough and violent man could be with you, how passionate this allegedly heartless outlaw became when his lips were on yours. You purred excitedly when his hand left your face and slid down your body, to your thigh, where it rested suggestively close to your crotch.

"I've got the impression you may want something." You remarked, breaking the kiss.

"Really? What gave me away?"

"It was a wild guess."

Maybe his hand, now caressing your heat through the layers of your bottom, was some kind of a hint. Or maybe it was Arthur's lips, working their way down your neck, tenderly kissing and sucking every bit of skin they reached. Yeah, you could definitely tell that he was in the mood.

"...And that's the moment you tell me to back off, ain't it?" He noticed pretty quickly that despite the fact you let him do anything he wanted with your body, you clearly weren't into it yourself. You didn't even touch him once.

"Sorry, Arthur. It's been a hell of a day. I'm exhausted. That would be a real shame if I fell asleep while you was fucking me."

"Something's wrong, am I right, [Y/N]?"

Making love with Arthur was absolutely wonderful. You loved the way he pampered your body, and how adored and wanted you felt under his lustful gaze and tender touch. You loved how he reacted to your displays of affection, how he wasn't scared to open up and show his vulnerable side, and that he let you worship his body. You knew Arthur had his demons, the ones that completely distorted his own body image and undermined his self-esteem. But he learned to believe your words of adoration more than the whispers in the back of his head. He trusted your love more than his intrusive thoughts.

His illness changed a lot in your relationship. Not the way you felt about him, obviously, but how you perceived certain things. You became more observant, more aware of the consequences your actions may have had, and some of them took a serious toll on your man's condition, you found out. Now you had to be a responsible woman and put Arthur's well-being first, take proper care of him before you could take care of his carnal desires. You couldn't recklessly make love every day anymore, as his deteriorating health was putting more and more limitations on his body. It couldn't always keep up with what his mind craved, so you had to be more cautious now.

"I'm sorry Arthur. I'm not in mood."

"It's okay. I understand." He took you in his arms and gently kissed the top of your head.

"I'm just... worried." You tried to explain yourself. "That coughing fit at the stable, I can't push it out of my mind, I don't know why. I know you had them worse before, but this one scared me so much."

"Shhh, I know this whole situation is hard for you, but try not to think about that. I'm feeling okay now. Even more than okay, having you here." He pulled you tighter against his chest.

You calmed down a little, listening to his still strong and steady, but a bit faster than usual heartbeat. You didn't like it when he saw you like that, concerned and unsure. But honestly, you'd rather be sincere with your man than hide your fears away and lie to make him believe that everything was alright. He wasn't that stupid.

"Can we just go to sleep now?" You asked pleadingly. "I'm really tired."

Arthur didn't oppose. After you undressed and put your clothes beside his, he took you back in his arms and lay down on the bed with you on top of him, locked in his loving embrace. You snuggled up to his chest, tucked your head under his chin, and drifted off almost immediately, lulled to sleep by soft music coming from the saloon downstairs.

#red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #rdr2 fanfiction #fanfiction #duck pecks her keyboard #I GAVE UP ON THIS FIC :D

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han100894 · 6 years

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Some of My Frustration with NNT

So this is probably going to be a controversial take, but as much as I like NNT, there are things about it that have been bothering me.

One big one is, despite attempting at least lip service, the girls often vastly get overshadowed by the guys.

(Note, this is me airing my frustrations, I still like NNT, I like all of theses ships to some extent, I don’t mean to rain on anyone’s parade. It would be awesome to know if anyone else agrees, but mostly I’m just trying to make myself feel better and honestly it may not be the best written and I’m probably forgetting points that made me feel this way and I’m sure I’ve forgotten things in the Manga itself.)

Just look at the three biggest ships: Kaine, Banlaine, and Melizabeth.

I like Kaine, it was my first favorite ship but… it’s ultimately King’s story. The majority of the focus is on King’s POV and feelings. Even Daine’s memory loss is played more about how he feels than her—she doesn’t even get a chance to get mad at Gowther for it, or for that matter angry at King—no instead King gets mad on her behaft. She gets pulled around by the plot, and the memory loss in particular to give King extra angst. Even her confused feeling for Meliodas are mostly played as comic relief, drama fodder early on with Elizabeth, and to King more angst. We get very little from her POV.

And whenever Diane tries to protect King (In my memory at least) it always backfires on her, leading to King to Angst and “power up” and come to the rescue.

She has no real major victories to her name. Generally in any fight from the second half of arc 1 and moving forward she’s either coached by King (The Vytle festival, he saves Diane and defeats his enemy alone, but Diane needs couching), or King takes the spotlight (fighting Helbram, fighting Mael)

The only plot point she gets on her own is the brief time with Matrona after she loses her memory once again. Otherwise her plotlines are heavily tangled with King’s and again we usually see things from King’s point of view. Even when they both went back to the past Diane ends up goofing off but King notices something is wrong. We just—we never get into her head like we do King. We don’t see anywhere near the kind of character development he has.

And King gets several plots unconnected to Diane, Helbram, the fairy forest, Ban and his sister, his inferiority complex…

I just wish she’s get some focus that didn’t revolve around King (or Mel)—and also that she got a chance to protect King without it instantly backfiring on her or making King feel bad about himself again…

(Also, there is no reason for Diane to be “equivalent of 15” none at all. Made even worse once King gets to go through “fairy puberty” in an instant and grow up something she can’t do (Also why the heck would 700=15 when giants only live to like 2000?)

And then Banlaine:

Let’s be honest, Elaine exists almost completely as a prop for Ban’s story, up to and including dying on him (aka being fridged) and causing his manangst and driving his story). She spend half the story dead and the other half deathly ill. She has little to no interaction with anyone else—even her conversations with her own brother is all about Ban.

She doesn’t even really get much of a say about the whole thing, Ban’s quest to save her, it just is.

I do think the Raven’s arc was the best arc, but it was so entirely because of Jericho and her character development and drive, not because of Elaine. She had one moment of cute interactions with Elizabeth as they fought off two people who had no build up and were pretty much fodder, and then she had one moment where she saved Ban and managed to “grow up” something that’s downplayed slightly by being part of the reason Ban gets into his huge angst, and her losing her upgrade literally the next time we really see her just in time for Ban to save her (And turning her back into a child look alike) something that was truly not necessary. Gloxina didn’t lose his wings when he died, and wings are literally something fairies are killed for to sell—she could have stilled died and not lose her upgrade.

Honestly what I want from her is her to get to talk with her god damn brother, and maybe actually work things out on screen how he hurt her, and her understanding how he did so almost entirely unintentionally without Ban being their or brought up would be nice. Off screen does not count at all either. other than that let her be a person and not a prop!

And finally Melizabeth

Technically, or at least some people believe so, Meliodas and Elizabeth are the two main, main characters of the story. Honestly I kinda feel that Meliodas, Ban and King are the one who have gotten the most development and focus throughout the whole story, or at least until recently.

Elizabeth has tried, but in a lot of situation she’s been a plot point (Getting kidnapped, the seed not being in the cup for her test, ect) or had a lot of her agency taken from her to push the story along. Ever since she got her memories back she’s been trying to change that yes, but so far has instead been nearly instantly kidnapped and put into a situation where she could only be saved by others. (And yes, in story context she as in a bad situation for her powerset, but Nakaba still decided to have this happened to her and decided that she could do nothing to help just after she decided she would do something about all of this. It’s not like he didn’t have a choice.)

Meanwhile Meliodas has mostly treated Elizabeth like a child—which is fair considering she is one, she’s only 16 (Seriously, why couldn’t she have been at least 18, what would that have changed other than a tiny bit of the creepy factor)—but even after she regains her memories, he decides what he’s going to do with no input from her (Take the Commandment, break the curse, kidnap her, ect) and yes he has no emotions at the time but it’s still really shitty and only a step more than earlier when he refused to allow her to join the Sins again at the start of arc 2, without even explaining why, and even insulting and hurting her instead.

And it’s not that I want her to be a badass fighter. I’m fine with her being a realistic pacifist and mostly a healer and leader—that’s great. I just want her to have more agency instead of being shoved around to force the plot to do what Nakaba wants and get a chance to actually help Meliodas like she wants.

Bonus: Monspeet and Derieri

Their relationship is interesting, as on its outside it’s actually reverses some of the tropes this story has. Derieri is the one who get most of the focus and character development, while Monspeet is somewhat behind her. And in a twist, instead of the girl being fridged for the guy’s character development, the guy is fridged for the girls. Something rare enough that I actually thought that Monspeet’s death was somewhat okay (Up until Derieri’s story faltered right after).

Derieri has the same somewhat realization as Elizabeth—she was always the one being protected by Monspeet, being taken cared of by him, and how she wanted to be the one who did it back.

But then just as she was getting a big moment, finally a chance to somewhat redeem herself and try and help stop this war and save Mael, she is killed just as she’s about to do it, stopping her story cold turkey.

And now with Mael doing the weird reincarnation thing I have to ask why. If she’s almost certainly going to come back at some point (probably in the sequel—Arthur’s story I’d assumed if it actually happens) why couldn’t she have succeeded when she was so close. Why did she have to be worfed to show off Mael and eventually being the catalyst to power up King.

It’s just… frustrating.

I just wish she’s been allowed to succeeded after everything. I wish she’d gotten at least one moment where she protected Monspeet.

Last complaint

And one thing that has bothered me over all is, most notably while Ban and Meliodas were in Purgatory, how “We are going to get out of here and save our girls” which is great I guess, but, both them, and King in his “I have to protect you” say it so often that it almost feels…infantizing. The guys are so obsessed with taking care of and protecting the girls who don’t get the same chance to do it for them, or try and get punished for it, or realize to late and it’s just…

Ban and Mel really do it, King has his huge “I have to save everyone” complex, even Monspeet goes overboard with Derieri a bit (hitting away the rocks anyone). Escanor is similar, though he respects and believes in Merlin as much as he wants to jump to her defense making him a bit of an exception but I have no idea if Escalin is supposed to be a thing or not at this point. Margret got to be political prisoner for ages, and when she went out to find Gil she gets manipulated into becoming Ludo’s host. Veronica gets a whole side plot only for it to suddenly stop with no conclusion.

I just want the girls to get to do cool things, sometimes completely unconnected to the boys, and not have it backfire on them or get overshadowed. I want the relationships to have more equal screen time between each partner, Is that so much?

#seven deadly sins #nanatsu no taizai #me being kinda salty #ignore me if you want

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galadrieljones · 5 years

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A Funeral: Chapter 17 (Arthur Morgan x Mary Beth Gaskill)

Fandom: Red Dead Redemption 2 | Pairing: Arthur x Mary Beth | Rating: Mature

Content: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Touch-Starved, Humor, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Angst, Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Fake Marriage, Epiphanies, Backstory, Banter, Deep Emotions, Sharing a Bed, Swimming, Arthur to the Rescue, Forests, Abduction, Angst, Heavy Angst, Mutual Pining, Friends to Lovers, Sexual Content, Sexual Themes, Adult Content, Canon Divergence, Found Families, Brotherhood, Fatherhood

Summary: To help her process Sean’s death, Mary Beth asks Arthur to take her on a hunting trip, somewhere far away. He agrees, and on their journey, they find quietude and take comfort in their easy bond. They’ve been friends for a while now, but life is full of uncertainty and complications, and in their desperate search for meaning together, they endure a number of trials, some small, some big—all of which bring them closer to the insidious dangers of the natural world, as well as to one another, and to their future.

Credit to @bearly-tolerable for the banner! Art is my own.

***For the rest of this story, you can visit the masterpost or AO3, both linked in the replies to this post and also at my blog.***

Chapter 17: The Sons

“You wanna talk about me and Arthur?” said Mary Beth, looking down at her hands. Abigail was holding them real tight.

“It’s so romantic," said Abigail. "I been hoping for this, Mary Beth.”

“You have?”

“Of course,” said Abigail. “The two of you together—you’re so right for each other. With the books and the poetry and all that. Now what happened on that trip of yours? Tell me.”

Mary Beth got a little bashful. "A lot happened."

“Like what?"

Mary Beth smiled and gave her a look. “How much do you think I'm gonna spill?"

"As much as you're willing."

Mary Beth's cheeks felt very red.

Abigail became tender then, and kind, like she was reading the moment. “It's no bother,” she said. “I'm just so happy for you. And I just—Arthur. He’s so…stoic, you know? So strong and silent. Mysterious. What’s he like, all close like that? I’m just being nosy. You don't have to tell me anything, but I got to ask.”

“He's just...Arthur," said Mary Beth, a little shy. She was embarrassed in a way. "You know?"

“Not really," said Abigail.

Mary Beth was confused. She felt stupid all of a sudden, flustered. "Oh," she said, realizing. "I—I'm such a moron. I'm sorry, Abigail."

"What, you thought I slept with him?"

Mary Beth nodded, kind of sheepish. "I shouldn't have assumed."

Abigail laughed, at herself more than anything. She looked away, still holding Mary Beth's hands. "You got every reason to assume," she said. "And I ain't ashamed. Not no more. But I never took a turn with Arthur, Mary Beth. Not once. I swear."

Outside, you could hear people talking, getting to work on the day. The sounds of chickens and metal clanging. Mary Beth sighed. "I'm sorry," she said.

"Don't be sorry."

"It's good to know, I guess," said Mary Beth. "Not that it really matters."

“We was only ever friends,” said Abigail, real earnest. “And it does matter. I understand. In any case, he's a different man now than he was when I met him. Things have changed so much."

"You mean for Arthur?"

“Of course." Abigail sighed. “You know, that year I got here, it was just a year or so before you got here."

"I know."

"You missed the worst of it. Lucky you. But back then, Arthur was...kind of a mess. You know about Mary Gillis?”

"Mary Gillis?" said Mary Beth. "Yeah. I mean, everybody does."

“Well, when I showed up, they had just ended things. For good. And he was so goddam busted up about it. I never seen a man wallow and brood like that, and with it, he was a fuckin derelict drunk.”

"A drunk?"

“Now don’t get me wrong,” continued Abigail. “He was a chivalrous drunk. He was still Arthur. Never raised his voice to no woman, certainly never imposed on no woman physically. But he drank, and he kept to himself. And when he didn’t, he was just getting in fuckin brawls in the saloons, and punching holes in pianos and getting thrown in jail for drunk and disorderly. Once when Hosea went to bust him free, he said he just wanted to die there. Wouldn't budge. Hosea literally put him on a salvaged barn door, tied it to the back of his horse, and drug him back to camp like a invalid. He made Uncle look sober that day.”

Mary Beth was surprised, but also somewhat amused. She didn't know why. It wasn't funny. But something about the image, looking back, knowing how things turned out, that made it less pressing somehow. ”Arthur punched a hole in a piano?” she said.

”Yeah,” said Abigail. “He did. Bloodied his hand something awful, too. But for all them antics, Arthur was never the type to buy a working girl. I mean, I'm sure he has, at one point or another, but as a general rule, he's got plenty of vices, it's just that none of them has ever been women."

"I know that," said Mary Beth. "I mean, he told me that."

"I was truly sad for him, in those days," said Abigail, "the better I got to know him, seeing how he'd been done. He didn't deserve that, getting so messed up over some uppity bitch trying to get above her station. Or, well, that's what Miss Grimshaw used to call her. Arthur has always been good to me and Jack. He protected us—that year John disappeared, he made sure we was taken care of, every day. He listened to me. He supported me. He's a good man.”

Mary Beth was just staring, listening. She was grateful for Abigail's honesty and her kindness and her earnest nature. “Thank you for telling me," said Mary Beth. "About you and him. And I'm sorry again, for assuming like I did. I guess I just got...kind of nervous."

“Why?"

“Because I ain’t so experienced.” Mary Beth looked away, out the window, to where the birds were singing. There was a quiet breeze coming in off the river now, too, cooling things down.

“That would never matter to Arthur," said Abigail. "And there's different kinds of experience. Trust me."

“I mean, it’s not like he was my first or anything," Mary Beth continued, "but he might as well’ve been, in some respects. I mean, a man like Arthur? I just got insecure for a minute that you’d—you know…”

“That I’d been there first?”

“Sort of.”

“Well, it ain’t true.”

Mary Beth smiled. She was, in truth, relieved, though she did not make a show of it. “Did Arthur ever propose to Mary?” she said.

“He did,” said Abigail. “He’d bought a ring and everything. And I believe she said yes at first, but then she broke it off. Kept the ring and everything."

“Jesus Christ,” said Mary Beth.

“Yeah,” said Abigail. “But none of that matters now.”

“The drinking,” said Mary Beth. “Is that why he don’t get drunk much no more? But for seldom occasions, I guess.”

“Probably,” said Abigail. “It weren’t pretty.”

Mary Beth sighed.

“You really love him, don’t you?” said Abigail. “I can see it in your eyes. He's caught your heart. You worry about him.”

“I do love him,” said Mary Beth. “He’s easy to love.”

“It’s just so romantic,” said Abigail.

Mary Beth felt herself relax a little then. Her shoulders loose. She studied Abigail’s hands. They were clean. The nails were very clear. “He’s real giving,” she said, suddenly wanting to open up, to talk.

"Like how?" said Abigail.

“In all sorts of ways," said Mary Beth. "Generous. With talking, and touching. He never told me about that drinking thing, but I get why. It’s of no consequence. He told me so much else. Sad things. Real sad. He has all of these…layers. I see it sometimes, like he’s so nervous that I’m just gonna…disappear. He’s such a good man. He’s smart and his brain is so strong and it works so fine. I just want him to know this, you know? Sometimes I get the sense that he don’t love himself, not like he should. You know?”

“I get it.”

“I know people think I’m some sort of dippy idiot,” Mary Beth continued. “That all I do is walk around with my head in the clouds. But it ain’t like that with Arthur. It’s like having my feet on the ground for the first time, and not feeling like I gotta run from nothing. Like I’m safe. And I don’t just mean physically. I mean like—in my soul.”

Abigail was breathless, put a piece of hair behind Mary Beth’s ear in a sisterly fashion. “That’s beautiful,” she said.

“Anyway,” said Mary Beth, feeling self-conscious all of a sudden. “I’ve talked enough about myself. You get it.”

“Has he asked you to marry him?”

“No,” said Mary Beth. “We ain’t discussed marriage. I think though—I think with Arthur, that’s sort of implied.”

“How many of his babies you gonna have?”

Mary Beth blushed. Her face got hot. She took back her hands to push the hair off her cheeks. “As many as I can.”

“He’ll be such a good daddy.”

“I know.”

Abigail sighed. She was so genuine in her happiness for them. She was this pure soul.

“You know,” said Abigail. “John is—he’s starting to come around, and I think it’s a lot because of Arthur.”

“That don’t surprise me.”

“Yeah. After Jack got taken by that fuckin snake, Angelo Whatever, and the boys went after him in the city, John changed. It was like—on a dime. He listens to me now. He’s here. He reads to Jack, though he ain’t no good. He tries. It’s sweet.”

“You still love him, don’t you, Abigail?”

Abigail straightened her skirt, looked down at her knees. “Of course,” she said. “I’m all bluster sometimes, but inside, I am a woman like any other. I am soft for that man. And him coming around like this, trying to be better, it’s made me miss him like I never knew I could.” She looked up then, hardened a little, but seeming desperate. “Do you think I’m a fool, Mary Beth? For having faith?”

Mary Beth was surprised by the question, the outpouring. She didn’t know that she was worthy to answer, but she tried anyway. “No,” she said, being as honest as she could. “Of course not. If anyone knows John, it’s you, Abigail. And if you got faith in him and the man he’s becoming, that’s all that matters.”

Abigail sat up a little, smiling after this, like she was relieved and so gracious. Her eyes got full, glassy. “Thank you,” she said.

“Any time.”

She wiped a quick tear from her cheek now. More seemed to be coming. “Gosh, I’m such a dumbass,” she said.

“No you ain’t.”

“Don’t go telling no one I’m saying these things,” Abigail went on. “I can’t have them all thinking I’ve done forgiven John Marston.”

“Why not?” said Mary Beth.

“Because it’s none of their goddam business,” she said, smiling now, stopping her crying. She sniffled a little, held Mary Beth’s hand again. “You can know though, Mary Beth. You understand.”

“I will always try.”

“Anyway,” said Abigail. “I hope I haven’t scared the shit out of you here. I didn’t mean to cloister you off and force you to confess your love for Arthur, and then start going off about my own complicated carryings-on with John Marston.”

Mary Beth laughed. “It’s fine,” she said. “It saved me a trip to go see Miss Grimshaw.”

Abigail waved her off then and became exasperated. “That woman needs a vacation.”

“She definitely does,” said Mary Beth.

They sat together as the breeze came in through the window, blowing their hair, making the air smell good.

Outside, Arthur chopped some firewood. The exertion made him feel clean and strong. He said hello to Cain, patted him on the head, and he said hello to Tilly and to Jack. They were happy to see him, sitting together beside one of the covered wagons, drawing pictures of trees and people on paper with crayons.

He found John then, drinking coffee and smoking a cigarette by the scout fire. He was silent and content, wearing a dark shirt with the sleeves rolled up, staring off into some infinite distance all by himself.

“Marston,” said Arthur, coming up along side him. He had his thumbs hooked through his belt loops, his hat on to guard his face from the southern sun.

“Arthur,” said John, flicking his cigarette. “You’re back.”

“That I am.”

“How was your trip?” He sipped his coffee. “You look rested.”

“Thank you,” said Arthur. “And the trip was fine. Just fine.”

“Good," said John.

“What are you up to?” said Arthur. "You got plans for the day?"

They both looked at the fire. Somewhere nearby, there was a sound in the trees. A boar went flying through, squealing like an idiot.

“Nothing much,” said John, studying the tip of that cigarette. “It’s warm today. I was thinking of maybe heading out in a bit, fishing some.”

“You know any good spots?” said Arthur.

“A couple. Javier gave me some tips last week. Nice and shady." He finished his coffee down to the sludge, dumped that out to the earth. "You wanna come?” he said.

Arthur nodded, regarding the warm air on his skin. “Sure,” he said. “Why not?” He lit a cigarette.

“Sounds good," said John. "Let me just go grab my gear and tell Abigail.”

“She’s, uh, she’s up in the house, with Mary Beth,” said Arthur, smoking. “You mention it to both of them, okay?”

John gave him a look, interested. He smiled. “Okay.”

They cut through Scarlet Meadows, north of Braithwaite Manor till they found a nice shady spot down the banks from Clemens Point. It was nearby to where Arthur had gone fishing once with Kieran, many months before when the world did not yet seem like it was coming to an end. Hitching their horses, they went along in a comfortable silence, Arthur carrying the tackle, John carrying a crate full of beer, each of them with their fishing rods resting on their shoulders.

They set up with their boots close to the water. John cracked a couple bottles of beer and passed one to Arthur who took a long drink. It wasn’t cold, but it was good. They cast their lines with the beer bottles stuck in the sand. They fished like that, for a while. After some time with nothing biting, Arthur took a deep breath, and then John glanced over looking expectant. He reached for his beer, took a long drink, set it back in the sand.

“So,” said John, rocking back on his heels.

“So.”

“What’s going on with you and Mary Beth?” he said. “She your girl now?”

“She is,” said Arthur.

John smiled, kind of sly, squinting past the sun. Arthur was looking out at the water. “That’s great,” said John. “I'm happy for you two. How’d it happen?”

Arthur sighed, gently spinning the reel. “The trip, north. It just kind of...put things into perspective a little bit. We met with some danger up there, a lot of beauty, too. She makes it easy.”

“Makes what easy?”

“Living,” said Arthur.

John was looking at him, like he didn’t quite catch his drift.

But something bit on Arthur’s line then. They both flung their heads to see. John got big with excitement and encouraged him on as Arthur dug back into his heels and reeled in hard. After a minute or two, Arthur pulled in a real sturdy Steelhead. It must’ve weighed fourteen or fifteen pounds, a delightful catch.

“Look at that!” said John as Arthur steadied the fish. “We can cook that one up for the both of us.”

“And we shall,” said Arthur, smiling. He was proud of this one. He gave it a nice, hearty shake.

Once it quit the fight and its gills went steady, Arthur wrapped it up in a big cut of paper and went over to Sarah, stashing it on the back of her saddle. He dusted his hands, went back to the lake, picked up his beer and drank. He gestured to John, then to the water. “Your turn, brother.”

“I can’t top that,” said John, recasting.

“You never know until you try,” said Arthur.

John continued fishing. Arthur finished his beer, decided to cast out one more time. It was a fine temperature in the shade. Not too humid. The day felt good.

After a little while, John spoke. “Hey,” he said. "Arthur."

“What’s up.”

But then John got stopped up. He seemed stifled. He seemed like he was going to say something, something big and important, and then he choked.

“You were saying?” said Arthur.

“I just—I been thinking.”

“Thinking about what,” said Arthur.

“Thinking about…that year." He got quiet, lowered his voice like he was embarrassed. "That year I spent away. How it—how it weren’t right. How angry you were. After what happened to Jack, I been thinking about it a lot.”

“Is that so,” said Arthur.

“Yeah,” said John. “It is. And I just—I’m glad you’re here, with me now. So I can tell you.”

“Tell me what.”

“That I’m sorry,” said John.

They got steady, together. Arthur looked at him, but he was looking at his boots, in the sand. The fishing rod was sagging. He had all but abandoned it. Arthur pulled in his line, set the rod against his shoulder. “I appreciate that,” he said.

John swallowed something, hard, glanced up at Arthur very seriously, as if ashamed. “You took care of her,” he said. “While I was gone. You helped me get Jack back. You done nothing but look after me and mine over the years, and I just—thank you, Arthur.”

Arthur felt full up, heavy and still. He nodded, adjusted his hat, looked back out to the water. “You’re welcome,” he said.

“I just—” John continued. “At the time, I was so inside my own head, you know? I couldn’t see straight. I never understood why you were so goddam angry. Why the hell you cared so much.”

Arthur looked down at his boots.

“But I get it now,” said John. “I get it.”

“What do you get?” said Arthur.

“It wasn’t long after Mary, you losing her. What that did to you, and how it drug up bad things. Real bad things, Arthur. Maybe you don’t think I saw, but I remember. And seeing me, running out on Abigail, this little baby—it was like me, repeating your old mistakes, wasn’t it?”

“I’ve made a lot of mistakes, Marston,” said Arthur. “You’re gonna have to be more specific.”

“Eliza,” he said. “And Isaac.”

Arthur blinked, quickly, finished his beer, tossed the bottle to the water. He looked down. He said nothing.

“I’m sorry,” said John. “Arthur, I am.”

“It’s okay,” said Arthur, squaring up with him. “You’re a better man now. That’s what matters.”

“You are, too,” said John.

“Yeah well,” said Arthur, “Mary Beth keeps trying to convince me of that. I keep telling myself, if she thinks it’s true, then true it must be.”

They looked at each other, real earnest, like brothers.

Then, John lurched toward the lake as something bit on the line. “Oh, shit,” he said, nearly stumbling into the water. He steadied himself, reeling in perhaps a little too hard.

“Ease off the reel, Marston,” said Arthur. “Jesus Christ, you’re gonna break the line. Ain’t you fished before?”

“It’s strong,” said John.

“Guide it in,” said Arthur. “Real easy. Easy. Like that. There you go.”

“Like that?”

“Yep,” said Arthur, giving him a long look as he finally got the damn fish under control. “Patience is not your virtue.”

John smiled. “You’re right about that.”

He brought in the fish. It was another Steelhead, as big as Arthur’s catch, maybe bigger.

“Now look at that,” said Arthur, clapping him on the shoulder. “You did it. Nearly all by yourself.”

“Shut up, Arthur,” said John, but he was joking. He wrapped the fish. Together, they decided to call it quits. They built a little fire. Arthur cleaned up and fileted one of the trout, sprinkled it with salt and a little bit of ground pepper. He pan-fried it while John led the horses over to the water and opened a couple more bottles of beer. He came back and sat down across the fire from Arthur. When the fish was done, Arthur served them both. It was a fine lunch.

The sun was getting long over the water by now. It was afternoon. They leaned, looking at the water with their legs straight out. Some canoeists went by, a man and a woman who looked happily in love.

After a little while, Arthur spoke. “So,” he said. “How’s it been going. With Abigail.”

John sighed. “It’s going,” he said. He sat forward, plucked a couple long blades of grass from the earth, began shredding them between his fingers. “I been trying to get back there, you know? To where it was when it was good. She even looks at me now. Sometimes like she used to.”

“And how’s that?” said Arthur.

“Like she can stand me.”

Arthur laughed.

“How’s it with Mary Beth?” said John.

“It’s new, but we already know each other pretty well. So it’s steady, too.”

“I mean, the two of you? You’re perfect for each other if you ask me.”

“Why do you think so?”

“Because,” said John. “She’s kind of…you know.”

“She’s kind of what?” said Arthur, sipping his beer.

“She likes the things you like.”

“Which are?”

“Writing,” said John, tossing the pieces of grass to the fire. “Words and drawings and stories and all that. I think a girl like her, especially in a life like ours, that’s one in a million, Arthur. And she’s nice to boot.”

“That, she is,” said Arthur.

“Pretty, too.”

“You wanna marry her?” said Arthur. “Or, shall I?”

John laughed. “I’m just saying.”

“I know,” said Arthur. “And I appreciate it.” He finished off the beer. John popped the top off another, handed it to him with an absent mind. Arthur thanked him, cleared his throat. “You ever think about leaving?” he said.

John cracked another open for himself. “Leaving Shady Belle?”

“Leaving the gang,” said Arthur. “Packing up your family, getting lost.”

John paused, gave him a look, curious. “Have you?”

Arthur nodded, looked back out toward the water. He took a long drink. “Yes,” he said. He could almost picture it now. The more he said it out loud, the more real it seemed to become. “We are leaving," he went on. "Mary Beth and me. I don’t know exactly when, but soon. That's why I asked.”

The world seemed to get real quiet around them. If you listened close, you could hear the sounds of nature, birds and bugs and rushing water. “You and Mary Beth?” said John. “You’re gonna leave?”

“That’s right.”

“What’ll you do?”

“I don’t know,” said Arthur, peering down into the bottle. “Anything." He looked up, looked at John. "You know, you could come with us.”

“Me and Abigail and Jack?”

“That's right," he said. "You could come along, and our luck might be that much better.”

“You think?” said John. He was staring at Arthur, staring at him hard, listening really close, rapt.

“I do,” said Arthur. “Between you and me, we got a lot of know-how, plenty of skill. Mary Beth and Abigail, they’re capable women, and little Jack, well he won’t be little forever.”

“What are you thinking?” said John, taking a long drink. “Buying a ranch or something? Headed back west?”

“Not west,” said Arthur. “No, there’s too much unfinished business back there for us.”

“Then where?”

“North,” said Arthur.

“North?”

“The Midwest.”

This seemed to concern John at first. “I don’t wanna go back to Chicago. There's nothing there for me, Arthur.”

“Not Chicago,” said Arthur. “No, closer to the Mississippi. Wisconsin, maybe.”

“I ain’t never been to Wisconsin,” said John.

“Me neither,” said Arthur. “But I know somebody who spent time there in his youth, and I think there’s a life to be made. An honest life.”

John finished his beer. He chucked the bottle. He sat with his elbows resting on his knees. He seemed torn and contentious all of a sudden. Real young, thought Arthur. Still searching, cynical and unsure. “You really think we could make it work?” he said, looking at Arthur. “You and me? After years of living outside the law.”

“I ain’t saying it’ll be easy,” said Arthur. “It’ll take…patience. But it’s a possibility, and I think between the two of us, along with the girls, we could get it done.”

John nodded along. He was thinking about it. He was. “You’ve really thought about this.”

“I have,” said Arthur. “In truth, I’ve been thinking about it for a long time. I just never had a reason before.”

“You talked to Dutch? Hosea?”

“Only Hosea,” said Arthur. “He supports it. It was his idea I come talk to you.”

John hung his head. He closed his eyes. “And Dutch? What’s he gonna say?”

“The way I see it, John, we do this, he don’t have much of a choice.”

John sighed, real big. He was picking at the grass again. “This whole thing—it’s crazy,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

“Everything that’s happened,” said John. “Since Blackwater. I mean, how the hell did we end up in the goddam swamps?”

“I don’t know,” said Arthur. “But that’s part of the reason I need to get Mary Beth out of here. It’s too much goddam uncertainty for my comfort.”

“Is she pregnant?” said John, looking at him, in earnest.

Arthur took a drink, looked down at his hands. “She could be,” he said. “I don’t know. If she ain’t now, she will be soon. And I just—after what happened to Jack. That was a best case scenario. You realize that, John, don’t you? It could’ve been a whole lot worse.”

“You mean like, not getting him back?”

“That’s exactly what I mean.”

John straightened up then, his jaw real firm. The day was already getting on. Some ducks and geese had come to float in the water. The fire was low. “What does Mary Beth think?” he said.

“She’s ready,” said Arthur. “She don’t push me, but I know she’s done with this place. It ain’t for her.”

“It ain’t for Abigail either,” said John. “And it definitely ain’t for Jack.”

Arthur sighed. Together, they watched the ducks, cleaning and pruning their feathers in the dark water. They thought about life, and madness, and what it would take to get gone with the wind.

“Let me talk to Abigail,” said John.

Arthur nodded, finishing his beer. “You do that.”

#red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #arthur morgan #rdr2 fanfic #mary beth gaskill #arthur morgan x mary beth gaskill #mary-beth gaskill #arthur x mary beth #a funeral

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the-astro-ace · 6 years

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Merlin Writer Month: WIP Week Part 1 - Gen Fics (No Romance)

“Part one?” you ask in confusion upon reading the title.

“Hmmm yes, reader,” I respond, stroking my metaphorical beard. “I found over twenty fics to recommend for @madaboutmerlin’s Merlin Writer Month, but I don’t think the mods would appreciate one giant post. So I am splitting into two not-so giant posts. Below I shall link the eleven gen fics I recommend, and then Part 2 shall be all the not-gens. And they shall be linked from most recently updated to, well, not. Please enjoy.”

Part 2: The Not-Gen Fics

GEN FICS - May contain romance, but not the focus of the story (at least no more than the show)

Rend and Rebuild by PeaceHeather

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Chapters: 38/?

Last Updated: 2018-11-18

Summary: One wrong move in the heat of battle changes everything. Merlin is a sorcerer, and Arthur has stabbed him.

My Comments: From angst to well-written battles to a wonderful Merlin and Gwaine friendship this fic has a lot of things that I love It’s got Druids, it’s got BAMF Merlin, it’s got Gwaine just being GREAT, what more could you want?? And at 38 chapters, you have quite a bit to get through before you have to wait for updates, and even then it’s nearing the end. so I expect that you won’t be left disappointed.

Do You Feel Like a Young God? by onceandfuturewarlock

Rating: Mature

Chapters: 4/?

Last Updated: 11-14-2018

Summary: When Merlin's magic is discovered by the last person he ever would have expected, he soon finds himself a pawn in the most twisted, dangerous game he's ever played, no way to win, and no way out - unless, of course, he changes the rules.

My Comments: Okay, just a heads up: this fic is DARK. HEED THE TAGS. This fic is GOOD but it is HEAVY STUFF MAN. You thought you couldn’t have Agravaine more?? HOO BOY THIS FIC WILL PROVE YOU WRONG; I have literally written the phrase “I want to shank Agravaine with a rusty spoon” in a comment to this fic. Twice.

Stronger Than by NotNecessarilyInThatOrder

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Chapters: 8/?

Last Updated: 2018-11-12

Summary: “I said I was dying.” Arthur sighed.“I don’t have time for this.” “Would you have had time to retrieve my corpse?” Merlin thought, then nearly smacked himself when Arthur’s expression made him realize he’d spoken out loud. Could Merlin have told the truth if Arthur had been willing to listen that morning? What would that mean for their future? For Morgana's?

My Comments: An AU starting with s3e02 that it looking to be a MORGANA REDEMPTION YEAH BOI. Excellent read, and I look forward to finding out where it will go :D

The Siege Perilous by CarverTwaine

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Chapters: 6/?

Last Updated: 2018-10-21

Summary: (Druid Merlin AU) Druids came for Hunith's son long ago. Years later, a man named Emrys and his apprentice are captured as Druids in Camelot. But Emrys strikes a deal with Uther: as long as the King allows Emrys to live as a political prisoner in the dungeons, the Druids will stay far away from Camelot. Uther agrees. Hated and feared, Emrys works to gain the trust of his jailers.

My Comments: I have a thing for Druid!Merlin apparently, and this fic falls into that. Most recent chapter left off on a cliffhanger so I’m :OOO atm but it’s VERY GOOD and I recommend you all read this one as well :D

A Sea and Four Centuries by MDJensen

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Chapters: 6/10

Last Updated: 2018-09-27

Summary: In which Lancelot and Aramis wake up in the wrong beds-- and the wrong countries, and the wrong centuries. HIATUS until ~December 2018.

My Comments: Probably the fluffiest thing on this list. A crossover with Three Musketeers in which the author literally swaps Santiago Cabrera’s characters. That’s it, that’s the story. But it’s not just crack- there’s angst, there’s emotions, and overall what I feel is a realistic reaction to what would happen if this, well, happened lol. I especially adore the scenes in which Lancelot is learning French- THE AUTHOR ACTUALLY ACKNOWLEDGES THAT THERE’S A LANGUAGE BARRIER- IT’S GREAT.

Knowledge does not mean Understanding by Selene467

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Chapters: 5/10

Last Updated: 2018-09-27

Summary: In a time when Merlin's magic is outed and accepted -something he never thought possible months ago- Arthur is shown that despite knowing how strong Merlin is, he doesn't fully understand -comprehend- just how powerful he truly is. A dangerous conflict in which Merlin all but sacrifices himself to save everyone else, shows Arthur that there is far more to Merlin than he thought possible. Gaius wasn't kidding when he told Arthur that Merlin was the strongest sorcerer ever to have lived.

My Comments: I greatly enjoy the non-linear story telling of this one- with the present interspersed with flashbacks to the magic reveal, it allows the reader to see what happened without just an info dump lol (also I’m considering trying that style myself now). Just I recommend this one too lol

A Criminal’s Burial by gecko818

Rating: Mature

Chapters: 8/?

Last Updated: 2018-07-02

Summary: Upon awakening in a strange castle with no memory of the last week, Arthur learned that not only had he been recovering from poison, but that Merlin was responsible for the betrayal. Unfortunately, the boy was reportedly killed by Arthur's own sword and left to rot. Little does he know, the story is a mere ruse to conquer Camelot. NOT a death!fic. Merlin!/Arthur!Whump.

My Comments: With Arthur angsting over the fact that he thinks he’s literally killed Merlin gd and Merlin being, well, not treated well in an enemy lord’s dungeon, this fic is hurt/comfort gold. At least, when the comfort part reaches lol. But with intrigue, and emotions running high, this fic is a good one and I sincerely hope it updates soon lmao

The Right Thing by AithuzahFic (veritably_mad)

Rating: General Audiences

Chapters: 3/?

Last Updated: 2018-05-10

Summary: Merlin jumped when Arthur spoke. “He didn’t deny it,” he said, his voice low and cool. “I’m sorry?” “He said he loved her and would never hurt her, but he never said it wasn’t true.”

My Comments: How the aftermath of the Arthur nearly killing Uther scene SHOULD HAVE GONE. But if this exchange doesn’t convince you, idk what will: Every word Arthur had spoken had Merlin off-balance and reeling, but his next question threatened to knock him flat. “Will you help me?” Merlin gaped at Arthur long enough that the earnest nobility of his expression faltered. “I realize it’s a lot to ask—it is essentially treason, after all—” “I have magic,” Merlin blurted, and then slapped both his hands over his mouth. Arthur stared at him. Merlin stared back. “Well,” Arthur said at last, “I suppose treason isn’t a problem for you, then.”

Silence Cuts Loudest Through the Chaos by 1917farmgirl

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Chapters: 20/?

Last Updated: 2018-04-16

Summary: Kidnapped by a mad king, Arthur and Merlin must rely on each other like never before. While Arthur struggles with choices that put his heart and duty at odds, Merlin struggles just to stay alive after being stripped of his magic and freedom. With impossible choices and heavy secrets weighing them down, can they manage to escape before all is lost? 2018 Frog Award at HPFT for "Best Non-Harry Potter Fanfiction"

My Comments: I love this fic SO MUCH. Merlin and Arthur’s friendship is done SO BEAUTIFULLY in this- feels exactly like the show’s. I know the author plans to continue and I sincerely hope she manages to conquer this writer’s block that has had her down for months ;-;. But, in the meantime, there’s over 70k worth of material to read, and I highly recommend you do :D

The Truth of Who We Are by Marie_Iliea

Rating: General Audiences Chapters: 4/?

Last Updated: 2018-02-20

Summary: Set into the wall, a brazier evenly spaced between them, were words, each with the imprint of a hand below it, and a pair of footprints set into the floor below that. Loyalty, Strength, Courage, Servitude, Magic, Nobility, Humility, Authority, and Discipline. Merlin recognized the riddle right away, having met the dwarf during Arthur’s quest. He knew three of the names, three of the matches — and it terrified him. What would the others make of him being Magic? He shivered, a thrill of fear running down his spine. Or: When Arthur and the knights go hunting, but events take a predictably unusual turn that exposes Merlin's magic to them all -- and then it all goes, quite literally, to the Otherworld. I finally figured out where this 'one-shot turned story' is going to go. Since I like Lancelot and originally this was "Arthur is King, Lancelot is alive," this tale explores how everyone finds out Merlin has magic AND the fallout -- during the chaos with the Dorocha.

My Comments: I also love fics that assign roles to the rest of the knights, and I would love to see where this one plans to go with it

Some Things Are Meant to Be by 1917farmgirl

Rating: General Audiences

Chapters: 2/3

Last Updated: 2018-02-15

Summary: For Merlin, having the world fall apart around him was nothing new, but having someone there to help him pick up the pieces afterwards unfortunately was. Until it happened twice, with two very special people who appeared in his life when he most needed saving. Modern AU, friendship fic. Sort of Christmas story.

My Comments: A short, bittersweet one that left me sobbing and me wanting more. Tender hurt/comfort with a side of Christmas. And with only one chapter left, I hope the author won’t leave us hanging for much longer

#merlinwritermonth2018 #Merlin BBC

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nedcanquen · 7 years

Text

Chapter 6: Mr 7th Floor

Tags: Slow Burn (like…really slow burn) - endgame is NedCan but they don’t get there directly, Single POV, Yep, Canada will date other people before endgame because he’s very desirable even if he doesn’t always know it, Audit firm AU, Office AU, some angst…

Pairings: NedCan (endgame), NorCan, implied NedDen, DenNor (I can’t believe I missed this in the last update), implied Spamano, France/Jeanne d’Arc, GerIta

Photo from Pexels / Pixabay

Matthew doesn't know why he’s once again, riding the elevator to his desk. It’s an odd kind of detachment, he’s controlling his body but he isn’t. It’s on autopilot, but mostly because he doesn't know what else to do when he wakes up that morning. Well, he doesn't really wake up, because he hardly slept in the first place, so he went for a run. After the run failed to do whatever it was he wanted it to (he had no idea), Matthew showered and got changed for work. The best explanation he can give himself is that it’s routine, and routine is comforting right now because he doesn’t have to risk thinking - down that path led to ugly doors and ugly thoughts. Still, Matthew’s brain isn’t the type to just fully shut off, it needs something to be distracted. Right now, between Francis’ command that he take a step back from work, the reality of fighting his personal demons over his lost promotion and lost potential relationship, or being a workaholic, the latter was sadly, the much preferred option. He knew how to work, he could do it on autopilot, but perhaps his mistake hasn’t so much been being a workaholic, but that he’s been focusing on the wrong thing.

“Patrice, Sylvie, sorry for the short notice, but how about we change our setting and have a brainstorming session?”

His team has been walking on eggshells around him all week and it’s not healthy. It’s one thing for his unprofessionalism to affect himself, but it crosses a line when it affects everyone else. It’s time to fix that. He’s lucky that the team is pretty self-sufficient but still. Patrice smiles and nods while Sylvie looks relieved. That’s a good sign at least. To continue the positive mood, Matthew decides to completely change their scenery. They pack up their computers and walk to the building across the street to set up in the firm’s bar.

The PK&DE bar is actually located on the opposite building of the one where he usually works - an odd halfway measure to compromise PK&DE’s rapid growth - they had to rent floors across the street to seat everyone comfortably. On normal days the extra walk can be frustrating, but today it turns out to be a good thing because the distance liberates him in a way and he can be the mentor that he needs to be. He still takes pride in being a professional and the work that he does, the lack of a promotion wouldn’t hurt otherwise, but he hasn’t been doing a good job of being that professional in the past two days.

Their productivity is off the charts that morning, so this is definitely a good call. Sequestered away in their own corner, Matthew walks Patrice and Sylvie through the process of actually resolving the issues they raise in their audit reports based on what they’ve learned from sitting with the client for months. Well, Patrice should be promoted to Manager soon so he’s been through this before, but for Sylvie it’s still a process of being given knowledge. She needs more experience before she’ll be able to connect the dots. Without exposure to sessions like these though, there are no dots to connect. It’s not good enough to write a long audit report and flag problems. PK&DE charges a premium because they’re supposed to be able to deliver more. Clients were not receptive to inane textbook issues and answers after putting up with you sitting in their office for months, digging through all the paperwork of the past year and knowing that audit findings could cost them their jobs. If they raised an audit point, it had to actually be something worth raising, and something worth raising, needed a worthwhile solution.

They’ve drawn mind maps with a spider’s web of linkages and scribbles on several pieces of A3 recycled paper that’s been taped together and covers two tables. They could do it on a computer, but there’s some kind of connection that the brain makes when you physically draw something out, especially drawn out this big when you’re discussing it at the same time. It helps to make sure that Sylvie is adding her own notes to the mind map as well so she feels invested and can therefore contribute more to the process - she’s the one literally sitting at the client’s and reading through every single document they have, so she is the one with the most knowledge here.

Having the issue illustrated in front of them also makes the knots somewhat easier to unravel. Matthew is already drawing links to where the problems are and potential solutions lie and he can coach Patrice and Sylvie towards them as much as he can without giving the game away. For Patrice he’s mostly teaching management skills by this point, so really it’s Patrice doing most the leading with Matthew jumping in occasionally and filling in whatever gaps are missing.

Matthew feels better already, and it’s good to be reminded of these rare moments of accomplishment, hidden behind the many more moments of frustration behind office politics or administrative paperwork that otherwise takes up his time. Matthew does care about his team, and it’s likely a more healthy driver, to be driven by working with good people, rather than believing that your life is worthless if you aren’t the best at everything. It’s easier said than done though. It also doesn’t take away the reality that Matthew is an introvert by nature and part of the reason why today is working out so well is because he’s only sharing space with two people, rather than everyone in the department, as much as he likes them. It’s also a lesson in trust, he knows that sometimes he takes on too much of the work because he doesn’t want to overwhelm the younger staff. He does less of that now, but he needs to figure out better ways to do that more often and let them have the hands-on experience for themselves without him abandoning them. Some things you have to let people experience and fight through for themselves after all.

“You could have booked a meeting room - those have whiteboards for you to play with.”

They turn and greet Ha, who’s walking to them. Matthew is grateful that she hasn’t sat him down and demanded that he leaves Francis, or asked him what he feels or needs to do. Matthew supposes that she just knows he needs some time to calm down. After all, he knows her well enough to know what she would do in this situation - fight tooth and nail then leave (she is terrifying if you get on her bad side), but he’s not Ha, or Michelle, or Arthur for that matter. Matthew wishes more than occasionally, that he could be more like Arthur, or Daan, or even Alfred when it comes to work, if he’s being honest. It would certainly make things much easier, but he’s not. He’s just Matthew, and it’s exhausting to try to be someone else.

But ‘exhausting’ is oftentimes still easier though, because now he has to re-figure out who ‘Matthew’ is. Today seems to be a good start on that.

“Meeting rooms are all booked, I already tried.” Matthew responds. “HR is on a hiring push. I don’t want to interrupt the hopefuls. What’s up?”

“Lunch?”

Matthew looks at his watch - it’s 11.55 already, where has the time gone? Ha is looking over at their mind map and Matthew has to shake his head. “You guys go ahead. Thanks for coming all the way to get me but,” He wants to avoid potential uncomfortable questions over how he feels, which may come up at a lunch setting but not an office setting. “But I think I want to keep working on this. I can grab something here anyway.”

But Ha just smirks and winks, she’s looking at his computer screen now. “No need to lie Matt, I can keep a secret you know.” She whispers, giving a sly grin to both Patrice and Sylvie, who look confused but dangerously intrigued.

“What?” Matthew asks with some worry.

“Oh so he didn’t tell you two?” Ha asks Patrice and Sylvie.

“Secrets Matthew? I’m hurt.” Patrice jokes and Sylvie just smiles, waiting for the punchline. Yeah, Matthew wants to know it too.

“It’s exciting but don’t you think it’s a little too soon?” Ha is leaving the question open ended. Too soon after what?

Matthew still has no idea what she’s talking about. Something nags at the back of his mind though. Ha’s expression slowly changes as she realizes he isn’t lying.

“Your calendar Matt, it’s showing a lunch appointment with Daan deBoer at noon.” She waves her hand at his screen.

“OH SHIT!!!”

“OH WOW!”

“WHY ARE YOU STILL HERE?!”

Somehow all of this was exclaimed at the exact same time. Matthew forgot. How had he forgotten lunch with Daan?! Fuck fuck fuck, it’s 11.56 now, and it’s lunch hour he’s going to be late because the elevators are slow as molasses uphill during lunch and of course this is the day he decides he has to work in the OPPOSITE building! It’s too late to send a message now and all he can do is run. “My computer! The mind map!” It’s confidential, all of it, and yes these are technically the firm’s grounds but Matthew hasn’t locked his laptop to the table as IT policy insists he does and they follow a strict clean desk policy.

“We’ll take care of it Matthew! We’ll bring everything to your desk, just GO!” Ha yells.

Matthew is a good head taller than her but he’s not going to argue with that tone or expression so he sprints out of the bar and desperately presses the elevator button several times. He had barely looked at his laptop all morning, since he was so focused on Patrice, Sylvie and the mind map, and with how much he had shut down parts of his mind, fighting between indulging in the voice that emphatically berated him for being forgettable and not good enough and stamping it out with everything else, he had plain forgotten. It was embarrassing to the extreme. The elevator doors finally open, filled with disgruntled and hungry workers but Matthew pushes himself in anyway.

He’s not a small man. Usually it’s not a problem, but now he gets some stares, no doubt annoyed at him for insisting on entering a full elevator, but Matthew spares them that as soon as the doors open by sprinting out the doors. The building doors slide open fast enough and he can see Daan standing across, as he promised, in the lobby of the opposite building and looking at his watch. Matthew knows he’s late, Matthew knows that Daan has a reputation for hating tardiness when he’s in Canada, Matthew sprints across the street and hopes that he can be forgiven for a few minutes since this is the first time they’re having an appointment.

Matthew doesn’t see the car. He sees Daan look up with a frown on his face that quickly turns into alarm. Then he hears the horn, the screech and burnt scent of stressed brakes and a car taps him just enough to make him fall off balance onto the road, more from shock than any actual impact. He lands on his shoulder. If the car doesn’t stop, there’s nothing to save him, but thankfully it doesn’t move. Matthew lets out a breath and realizes that he doesn’t feel hurt, it’s just the smell of engine and rubber that’s assaulting his nose and eyes. He looks up at the nose of a silver Porsche and hears someone wailing from inside the car. Matthew rises so fast he feels dizzy and has to lean on the car hood for a moment, but his main concern is making sure that whoever’s in the car is unhurt from such a sudden braking, especially in a car this powerful. A shocked blonde man with somewhat disheveled, but mostly slicked back hair is sitting on the driver’s side, holding a smaller crying man with auburn hair.

Footsteps run up beside him and Matthew feels himself manhandled off the road to the safety of the sidewalk. He looks up to ask the person to release him, he’s being held with a desperate grip on the forearm that he didn’t fall on and it’s not helping - oh. It’s Daan. Of course it’s Daan. And he looks absolutely livid.

“WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?!”

Matthew opens his mouth but no words can come out because at this proximity, Daan’s angry voice sounds like it has an echo. Matthew also doesn’t appreciate being yelled at, but he has to admit that what he just did was pretty stupid and dangerous, and not just to himself. A car door slams and Matthew turns to see that the car has pulled over to the side and the blonde driver has stepped out of it. It wasn’t an echo, it was Daan and this man yelling at him at the same time. “I’m sorry.” He says to the other blonde man, who looks uncomfortably familiar.

“And you…” Daan glares at the approaching man. “Are you blind as well as fu-”

“Daan it hurts.” Matthew says calmly, tensing the arm where Daan is still gripping tight. It’s an exaggeration, Matthew can take pain, but he’s finally remembered who the two men in the car are and he doesn’t want Daan to say something absolutely career-killing over a dumb mistake that Matthew made.

Daan stops mid-rant and looks back at Matthew, bewildered, as he drops his hand. “I’m sorry. But damnit Matthew-”

“Luddy!” The formerly crying man has stuck his head out the window completely, and is calling out from across the road. It didn’t look like Daan was going to get to finish his sentences, for that, Matthew is grateful. “Everyone’s alright? I have tomatoes in the back, let’s feed everyone tomatoes! All will be well!”

What? That is the most random thing Matthew has heard today but he also hears some laughter from the crowd that has gathered at the lobby and on the side of the road. ‘Luddy’s’ face lights up with a slight smile, so it seemed to be the right words to break the tension. Until today, Matthew has only known of Feliciano Vargas by reputation. He’s a male socialite who is a social media celebrity and has a reputation for randomness with a strong streak of social genius. This is a man who can act stupid and do stupid things but make a lot of money off of it. He understands people in a way Matthew knows he never will.

“Oh...joy.” Daan seems to murmur to no one in particular and doesn’t look particularly joyful. Matthew looks back at Daan while Daan looks back at him with wide eyes. He tugs Matthew closer and says more calmly. “You’re lucky to be alive. If it were Feliciano behind that wheel, and not Ludwig, you wouldn’t be.”

“He is right about that.” Ludwig Beilschmidt, Managing Partner of Heta&Lia, approaches them. He had taken over as Antonio’s successor after a scandal. A man built from completely different cloth from Antonio, Ludwig was an Assurance man all the way, just like Matthew. He was likely selected to give his firm undoubted integrity after that mess, and his famous husband gave Ludwig some degree of likability, even to those who thought he was too stony. But the ‘stoneman’ only ever melted for his ridiculous husband. Seeing has how he had inadvertently made Feliciano cry, Matthew now knows that if he ever wants to change jobs, he may as well cross the entirely of Heta&Lia off his list. “Are you alright?” Ludwig asks.

Matthew blinks in surprise. “I was going to ask the same about you and your husband. I’m alright, you barely tapped me.”He holds his arms up, as if to prove it. Other than some minor scrapes and bruising that Matthew can feel, he is fine. The reality is exhilarating. Thanks for…” Not driving over him? “Stopping, that was entirely my fault, I’m so sorry.”

He could say a lot more, how his mind has been anywhere but present this whole week, but it sounds silly now. Matthew can barely contemplate how sad it truly would have been if he had died in some meaningless accident with his mind anywhere but here, sad and upset about his life. “I really haven’t been...I’m sorry. If there’s any damage to your car…” Matthew gulps, even a minor problem on a Porsche would probably be monumental.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Daan scoffs. “Ludwig, he’s one of mine. He was running to meet me. If there’s a problem, let me know.”

“No!” Matthew objects, but Ludwig simply nods.

“I checked just now. There is nothing. If my brakes were to break over such a thing, Porsche should not be selling cars. And Feliciano and I are alright. You really have no idea how Feli drives. I actually hope that this experience will instill some sense into him.”

Daan lets out a snort. “If you believe that, there’s a bridge I’d like to sell you Ludwig.”

“Hey!” It’s Feliciano again, who seems to have snuck up behind them, holding a small box of the tomatoes he promised. “I offer you tomatoes and that’s how you repay me? They’re free tomatoes Daan! Don’t you like anything that’s free?”

Amazingly, Daan rolls his eyes and cracks half of a sarcastic smile. “Yes, yes, and you only care about food and fashion, Ludwig is stupid and has no sense of humor, Matthew here is niceness incarnate and oh what else have I forgotten? I received coupons for all my birthdays and went Dutch on every date.”

“I do have high food standards! Don’t pretend you don’t agree!” Feli teases, dropping the box into Daan’s arms. “And don’t you dare go Dutch on this date, this guy almost got run over just to see you!”

The words fall on Matthew like a ton of bricks.

“Fe-Li…” Ludwig grumbles.

“What?! Oh give me a break! The whole industry’s been repressed since Antonio! It’s ridiculous!”

Ludwig sighed but his lips are still upturned, fond. “It is not ridiculous Feli, and not everyone who eats lunch together is on a date. I’ve also explained why, multiple times, that what they did was-”

Feli waves his hand with an impatient flourish. “It’s a job Luddy! A job! You can always find a new job but your soulmate? That’s for life!”

They’re all silent for a few beats then, and Matthew can’t quite believe how unbelievable this week has become but here it is. It has cumulated into his narrow avoidance of being manslaughtered by the man in charge of a rival firm, who’s being told off by his husband for thinking that Partners should not tie up people to their desks to publicly have sex with them. Okay, fine, Matthew is being uselessly pedantic, that’s because he knows Feliciano’s words are going to echo uncomfortably with him for a long time. There really isn’t any argument one can put up against what he was saying, which is why they’re all standing there uncomfortably and Ludwig finally takes his husband in his arms and starts murmuring something that Matthew assumes is Italian but with an odd accent. Meanwhile, Daan simply rolls his eyes and begins studiously gazing at the label on the box of tomatoes in his arms - a funny distraction, but at least he has one. Matthew is quite jealous of him in this moment.

“Right, well…” Matthew decides to say because he needs to get out of this awkward situation right now! “Thanks for the tomatoes, I think I’ll get going.”

“Wait!”

“What?”

Ludwig and Daan both yell at him the same time. Ludwig wants him to wait it seems, while Daan looks equal parts worried and offended.

“I mean…” Matthew desperately waves at Daan. “You’re hungry aren’t you?”

Daan just gives him an exasperated look while Ludwig sighs loudly. “At least let us take you to a clinic to get checked out! You cannot simply go walking on back to work!”

Oh right. He looks at the husbands and for some reason feels even more exhausted at the idea of dealing with them for any longer. On any other day he could do it, well no, any other week. But not this week. Feliciano is...a little too much honestly and Matthew feels exhausted at the thought of having to deal with him for more than five minutes. Ludwig is...well the sad part is, he’s kind of the role-model of any auditor and Matthew isn’t so sure he likes the image of Ludwig as his future self. Also, the codependency they exhibit - he’s not sure if it makes him jealous or makes him cringe. “Thank you but I’m really really..ready to move on from this. I’ll take myself to the clinic, I promise I’m absolutely fine.”

Ludwig looks like he’s about to object so Matthew squares his shoulders and puts more authority in his voice. “If I have any other questions or feel odd for any reason, I will get a hold of you. I really appreciate everything, truly but you’ve done everything you can - most importantly, you didn’t kill me. No one is harmed.”

Ludwig at least gives him a sympathetic look. Matthew feels that the man can understand him at that moment. “Right. Well, enjoy the tomatoes.” Ludwig says. “Matthew, if you feel odd for any reason, definitely give me a call and I will organize a visit to a specialist for you.” He hands Matthew his card, even though Matthew can likely find him through an online search. Then again, he sees the handwritten mobile number written on it and takes the card. It does help, having the direct line rather than having to jump through unnecessary hoops.

“And Daan.” Ludwig turns to Daan. “If it makes you feel any better, they are good tomatoes. You know how picky -”

“Yes, yes.” Daan cuts in tersely. “Even psychopathic nutjobs can have hobbies and be good at them.” He waves farewell immediately after, and Matthew does the same, pondering those words.

After some polite farewells, Ludwig and Feliciano turn to leave, then Daan calls out, “Wait, Feliciano, how is your brother doing?”

Feliciano turns with a warm smile. “He’s happy Daan. Happiest I’ve ever seen him.”

Daan just nods. They leave and Matthew wonders what that was all about. Daan hands him the box before he can ponder too deeply. There’s a giant label on the side that boldly displays the brand ‘LOVE’S TOMATOES’ that temporarily confuses him.

“Wha?”

“You’ve kind of earned them, I mean, you did survive getting hit by a car and Feliciano isn’t lying when he says he’s picky about his food. I saw the trunk when he opened it to get these, the whole damn thing is full, no wonder he’s trying to give some away...” He rambles. Daan rambling, this week has gotten odder. “Honestly though, are you alright? I’m sorry for grabbing you earlier.”

Matthew can only nod. “It’s okay, I mean, I feel alright, but after lunch I’m going to a clinic just to get checked out, and then I’m definitely going home. I’ve learned my lesson. This is the type of week where I should just stay in bed.”

Daan laughs and nods. It occurs to Matthew that Daan is uniquely positioned to know about all of the blows Matthew has suffered this week, and maybe that’s why he wanted to speak to him.

“Well that’s good at least.” Daan says. “But why don’t you go now? I’ll come with you. At the very least, you need someone to help you carry a box of tomatoes.”

Matthew shakes his head and also finds laughter bubbling out from himself. “This is the most random thing, ever, I mean…”

Daan shrugs. “That’s Feliciano and Ludwig for you. The most unlikely, sickeningly sweet couple you’ll ever meet. You’d expect that level of mutual codependency to explode but it seems to work on them. You know they’re actually childhood sweethearts? Poster childs for choosing to stay together and accept change...a lot of it.”

Matthew has to smile at that, he doesn’t believe in two people staying together no matter what if it causes more pain than good, but Ludwig and Feliciano seem especially happy together, despite their differences.

“Which is also why Feliciano never had to grow up, well, they’re both kind of unevenly matured, to be honest. Ludwig is emotionally constipated because Feliciano can project enough emotion for three people and Ludwig handles all the responsible things, like drive in the city, so that Feli doesn’t accidentally kill anyone. But they’re happy.”

Matthew smiles and shrugs. “Well, to each their own. Anyway, I can put the box in my car, I’m not parked too far.”

Daan nods and they set off. “You know,” He starts, not too long into their walk. “If you need to be late, that’s...fine, I know it happens. Just let me know ahead of time.”

Matthew doesn’t want to admit that he forgot their lunch appointment, so he just nods and smiles out of habit, before he realizes that he’s too tired to continue swallowing things down all the time. Besides, as significant as Daan is to the periphery of his life, if Matthew is going to offend the man, he may as well do it now with some honesty rather than later when it would actually hurt.

“Uh yeah about that...I’m sorry, I was having a brainstorming session with my team and we got carried away. I completely forgot and didn’t look at my phone or computer or anything...”

He tries to bury his face in the tomatoes but that’s not a good solution. From this close he can see how good they are though.

“Alright then,” Daan shrugs. “That happens too, but when it does, I’d like to imagine that whatever I’d lay on you is better than this. If it’s not, well, just say so.”

And that was that. Simple, except there are weeks where Matthew is willing to put up a fight and weeks where he’d rather avoid one. Still Matthew is relieved, yet he wants to kick himself for his habit of making mountains out of molehills. It’s a little funny that Daan thinks it’s so easy for anyone to just tell him anything, but maybe it is for his actual team members.

It’s strangely comfortable and companionable after that, having Daan as a walking partner on these familiar streets. As nervous as he is, Matthew doesn’t really want their conversation to stop, though right now it’s inane and work-related. Daan is kindly not bringing up Mathias and Lukas, or the fact that he hasn’t been promoted, maybe because he’s also recovering from the fact that he almost saw someone get run over. He seems a little...overly engaged, like he’s trying too hard.

When they reach the car, Matthew’s much more humble twelve-year-old Ford pickup, at least in comparison to a Porsche, Daan takes the tomatoes so Matthew can get his keys to open the car.

“Do you need me to drive?” Daan hesitantly offers. “In case you’re still shaken up?”

Matthew let’s out a chuckle. “Thanks but, no offense, you seem more shaken up than I am. Box can go in the back seat, thanks.”

“Hey!” Daan objects. “You’re fine now, wait till the adrenaline disappears! You’ll be exhausted in seconds. Also...I don’t really like driving, that’s where more of the nerves come from.”

What? “Really?!”

Daan shrugs. “I can drive, sure, but I feel better when I’m cycling. Driving a car feels too, hmm, stressful. You’re always surrounded by idiots.”

“I don’t see how cycling on the same road as those idiots with no protective casing or air bags makes that better.” Matthew retorts honestly, now a little worried. He knew that Daan liked to cycle but not this much.

Daan smiles and climbs into the passenger seat next to Matthew. “I’ve been cycling for as long as I can remember, it’s like walking or talking for me, I’ve been driving for far less years. My reflexes are better on a bike.”

“What about winter?”

The man shrugs as Matthew climbs into his own seat. “It’s the same as winter driving - you change your mindset, make sure you have the right equipment…” He shrugs. “And if it’s really bad out then yeah fine, you can’t cycle, but you can’t really drive either. It’s not that big a difference.”

There kind of is. “Buying groceries?”

Daan gives him an incredulous look. “I’m just one guy, I don’t need a car to hold them all, and my housemate,” It’s the first mention of Mathias all day and Matthew imagines that Daan says the word rather pointedly. “Buys his own stuff. If we’re really desperate we get a supermarket to deliver. How much do you eat at home?” He teases.

Matthew can’t really imagine life without a car at all, so finally he settles on, “If the heating in your building goes out in winter, where do you run to so you don’t freeze to death?”

Daan laughs. “That has never happened, but I guess if it really came down to it, the cafe isn’t too far from where we live and it’s a different building.”

Matthew gives up, if Daan can’t see the correlation between Matthew’s recent near accident and literally cycling everywhere... “Right, well, we’re going to the clinic. If you get hungry, holler and we’ll stop there first instead?” Besides, if Daan avoids driving to that extent, he’s not trusting the man with his car.

“Nah, clinic first.” Daan answers the unspoken question as he buckles his seatbelt. It’s all so casual, as if they’ve been friends for a long time.

Matthew nods, figuring that both of them wouldn’t really have an appetite right now. “Then take out and we can eat at my place, and then I’m serious! I’m asking the doc for the rest of the week off and I’m not leaving my bed!”

It’s only after he says it that Matthew realizes what he’s just done, but he can’t hit himself in front of Daan, so he starts up his car instead.

The doctor gives Matthew the rest of the week off, a clean bill of health save for some scrapes and bruises (as expected), sleep aids and at Matthew’s final hesitant request and brief discussion, a referral to a therapist. Matthew has no idea if it’ll actually be effective, and his promise to Lukas is probably not binding anymore, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t a good idea. Maybe it was almost getting run over earlier in the day, but Matthew is willing to think a little differently, even if he’s still hesitant to make life-changing decisions in the heat of the moment. He’s not actually going to get the rest of the week off, there’s too little notice, but Francis said that Matthew can claim the lost time back. Matthew is grateful but he wonders if time will allow him to actually do that. Or if he wants to. He still doesn’t know what to do with free time or with himself. There are meetings he has to ‘attend’, which he will do by calling in or video conferencing, and he’ll work on urgent deliverables in the quiet of his home. Backup plans were made, emergency texts were answered as much as possible. Now all Matthew has to try to do is relax a bit.

Lunch is terribly indulgent, but hey, if you can’t indulge after surviving a near-death experience, why live? They pack two giant burgers from Harveys and head over to Matthew’s flat (Daan actually insists on paying for the burgers - survival comfort food, as he calls it). It occurs to him that since this crazy week started, he’s had guests over for three days in a row. His dining table is being used more than it has in years. With the exception of the previous night’s unpleasant ending, he was always happy to welcome these friends into his home. He also knows that at some point he will be ready to welcome Lukas into his life and home again, it’s not like he wouldn’t open the door if Lukas knocked on it tonight after all. But Matthew had never been nervous with these other guests. That is not the case with Daan behind him as he opens his door. Daan is probably the last person he ever expected to end up in his home.

“Right well, it’s humble, but it’s home.” Matthew hangs his keys on the hook next to the door and feels at a loss for a moment, not having a heavy bag to set down either. He had texted Ha earlier as well to help him bring his stuff over afterwards.

For now though, it is nice to come home without the added weight of his laptop hanging on his shoulders.

“Thanks for having me,” Daan says, somewhat formally after walking in. “Uh do we need plates?”

Matthew laughs nervously. “We’re going to rough it, straight from the wrap, if you don’t mind.” He really didn’t feel like doing the dishes afterwards. He also really didn’t know why he invited Daan over without thinking about it, at that moment he had just desperately wanted to retreat home. “But if you want plates, they’re in that cupboard over there.” He points it out.

Daan shrugs with an amiable, “Wraps it is.” And places the box of ‘Love’s’ tomatoes on the kitchen counter. As Matthew walks over to his table with the takeout, Daan calls out. “Want some fresh tomatoes with that? They’re pretty good just sliced up with olive oil, salt and pepper.”

There are already tomatoes in the burgers but okay, he may as well experience how good these tomatoes are, presumably grown by Antonio Fernandez-Carriedo. It had been years since he had thought of the man, but he supposed Feliciano did have a point. Ever since the scandal, inter-firm relationships between management and any kind of junior staff seemed to have shuttered to a halt, at least publicly. If Matthew were younger and had first had his crush on Daan after the scandal, he probably would have been allowed to forget it. Heck, he wouldn’t have admitted to it in the first place, 3am or no.

“Sure. Salt and pepper’s on the table, olive oil in the cupboard above the stove on the right, knife’s in the drawer next to the sink, uh, second drawer down.”

It was a miracle he had maintained some semblance of adult life in the past year, but he’s grateful for it now. He doesn’t know if he’d be able to live it down if he had invited Daan back to a cluttered flat with piles of things carelessly tossed everywhere, which was the state that he lived in before he had an honest conversation himself one day about how he wanted to live. It also helped that he had been having guests recently; he had just cleaned up yesterday for Lukas. Still, none of these musings prepared Matthew for the sight of Daan doing extremely domestic kitchen things in his home.

It’s odd, and Matthew tries to ignore the confused beating of his heart in his throat because he’s simply too...fascinated at the sight of Daan with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and cutting tomatoes. His Partner persona is not really present. It hasn’t been since the near-accident, actually, now that Matthew thinks about it. He just can’t stop observing. At this moment, Daan is clearly annoyed at how blunt the knife is and is digging for the knife sharpener. Who would have thought that after having uncomfortably faced the front of a car just inches from his face a few hours ago, that the sight that would finally make his brain fry up and stop working this week is simply Daan in his kitchen?

He’s so fucked. A million and one thoughts fly through his mind in an instant and it’s amazing he still manages to stand - ‘Of course you’re losing your mind over this guy in your fucking kitchen,’ he thinks ‘You’ve never been allowed to forget about him for years, but don’t get carried away Matthew, he’s just, well, who the hell knows why he’s here? You’re going to ask him though! Hey why are you so fixated now? Are you rebounding? Damnit Matthew, it’s barely been a day! But Feliciano said - who cares what he said! This is the unattainable guy you crushed on because you saw him in an elevator! Not your soulmate! Get a grip!’

“Are you judging me?” Daan’s question cuts through Matthew’s panicked thoughts and he can only stare dumbly.

“Huh?”

“You’ve been giving me this kind of scary look for the past minute or so. I swear Matthew, and you have to trust me on this, but a sharp knife is just one of those small things that makes a huge difference towards a more satisfied life. Now, is this cheapo Ikea sharpener the only one you have?” Daan’s tone may be teasing, but it is still laden with judgment.

“Yes, it is. There ought to be another knife that’s sharp, I think Ha sharpened it on Monday when she made dinner.” There are only two knives after all.

“Well how about I sharpen this one as well and then you can have TWO sharp knives.” Has his tone changed? Yes, what did it mean? Why did it change? “How about that? You’ll owe me one forever.”

Matthew’s mind can puzzle over the mystery of Daan deBoer all day, but it can’t, nope! It’s been a stressful day but Matthew knows he has to get a grip on himself, so he simply starts taking out the food and drinks and placing them on the table.

Still, Matthew has to laugh as the sound of a blade being pressed against stone echoes off the walls. “Are you always this silly when you’re not at work?” He has to ask.

Daan turns, temporarily stopping his work. “You think I’m silly? Sharp knives are serious business Matthew.” He runs the blade across a few more times. “Sharp knives lead to good food, good food gets you a market and connections, and those...get you money.”

Matthew can’t figure out if he’s joking, so he gives up at this inane line of reasoning, and simply grins. “Fine, I’ll sharpen my knives.” He walks into his kitchen to hand Daan a plate for the soon-to-be cut tomatoes. He distantly wonders if this was what Daan’s younger siblings had to endure - strange anecdotes about life and money. Daan’s a bit odd sure, but who isn’t? It’s strangely endearing.

Eventually they eat, and Matthew savors the juices and taste of familiar cooked meat on his tongue, allows the smell of his burger assault his nose and lets out a sound of appreciation. Survival comfort food indeed. Once they had finished their burgers (it didn’t take long, they must have both been starving), Matthew decides to cut to the chase. “So why did you want to have lunch with me so urgently this week? Was it because you knew I was going to start it with a demotion, followed by getting dumped?”

Daan freezes for a moment and there’s a second of uncomfortable silence before he regains his composure and chuckles. “That’s what I like about you Matthew, when it counts, you get straight to the point.”

Room full of Alfreds. Room full of Alfreds. Can’t show hesitance, you can handle this. “Well?”

Daan takes a breath. “I didn’t know that Francis was going to pull such a stupid stunt. I thought the Communications team made a silly mistake and left out your name until Arthur brought it up at the Partner meeting and Francis didn’t deny it. I originally wanted to see you to give you a heads up about Lukas and Mathias. I wasn’t there when they spoke at the cafe, but I sure as heck saw Mathias when he got home. I also had no idea if you’d even want to see me today, but when I didn’t get any message from you canceling our lunch plans…” He shrugged.

Matthew almost asked why he wouldn’t want to see Daan, before remembering that Daan was a reminder of his job and Lukas wrapped up in one. Except, Daan was kind of two guys - the guy he admired before he even met Lukas, when his job was still fun - gruelling, but fun - and he was also the actual guy who was sitting at his table that he’s only getting to know now. “Why give me a heads up?” He asks. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful but...I’m not actually one of your team members, we run into each other but we’re not exactly...close, we’ve worked together once.”

Daan nods and has that smirk again, Matthew is starting to wonder now if it’s not so much confidence, but a defensive quirk. “On the firm front, well, you reached out to Emil when you thought you could help him. I know we’re used to doing that for junior staff but it isn’t actually supposed to stop the moment you become a manager.” He leans back in his chair and looks at Matthew in that searching Partner way. “I guess what I’m trying to say is, sometimes it helps to talk it out with someone who’s not in your team. You can talk to me, if you want. If you’re not comfortable with me because I’m in the same firm or whatever, maybe you’d prefer to speak to Belle? She can keep a secret, isn’t part of the firm and has worked with both Francis and Arthur before…”

Wow that’s… “That’s really kind of you.” Matthew has no idea what he’s done to warrant this, but maybe Emil felt the same way when he was adopted by a manager he had avoided, impromptu, in a men’s bathroom.

“Secondly, unrelated to the job, back when I thought you and Lukas were going to be a fixture I figured I was going to see quite a bit of you, one way or the other. And…” He shrugs. “I didn’t mind that. You seem cool. I know it’s kind of awkward, given our professional relationship but, I was going to ask you to be my friend.” Daan laid that out in a matter-of-fact manner. “Hey, you know about my rabbits, and my travel schedule is finally going to fall back to a slightly more normal pace. I look forward to spending time actually living here and making friends again who aren’t my relatives, Mathias, or clients.” He laughs.

“Oh…” Matthew can’t help the smile breaking out on his face. “Really?”

Daan’s expression turns lightly calculating. “Why would I lie?”

Matthew is sure there could be plenty of reasons but he can’t think of them at the moment. He doesn’t know Daan well enough. Then again, what was it that Lukas had said? Daan was capable of deceit, but not so much outright lying. And there wasn’t much deceit involved in asking a no-name manager who couldn’t even get promoted to be his friend. This means that for some inexplicable reason, Daan really thinks he’s cool. Even if not, there’s no way Matthew will pass this up. Handsome or no, he’s wanted to get to know Daan for years, it would finally get rid of the awkward feeling he has, especially if Daan can reveal things that Matthew already knows about him, organically. Besides it’s just...well he doesn’t know why Daan thinks he’s cool, but there’s no doubt that Daan is, and intriguing, and just plain admirable.

Matthew is definitely going to wake up tomorrow morning and find out that he’s dreamed the whole thing. “I can’t think of a reason.” He answers, but he’s grinning from ear to ear, he just can’t help it. “I just didn’t see that coming. Can I be honest about my ulterior motive to being your friend though?”

Daan’s expression changes, somewhat wary, but intrigued. “Sure, since we’re being honest. What is it?”

“I really want to meet your bunnies.”

Matthew expects laughter and gets it but not quite like he expected. Not this beautiful, bowled over laughing, happy kind. He can’t help but join in, it’s too infectious to hear Daan laugh and to see the man smile. He has no idea what he’s doing but that’s the point of friendship isn’t it? You’re not supposed to calculate friendship. But Matthew also knows better. He’s been on the receiving end of this question before, in the States, from people who wanted to be his brother’s friend. He earns his money based on his ability to be likable by the most amount of people possible...but he can’t control other people’s motives. He can only be honest with himself about his own. He does want to be Daan’s friend.

But why him? Why Matthew? A guy who wears a mask all the time when Daan is so straightforward and has never needed to pretend to be likeable. Or…

Has he?

Matthew doesn’t know why it’s never hit him before. Time seems to slow down a little as he just looks at the silly guy in front of him, laughing. The silly guy who whined about being locked out of his apartment after a long journey home, the silly guy who lives with his childhood best friend so that friend wouldn’t get too lonely after the love of his life left him...and never asked him to leave. The silly guy who bought a third rabbit because he thought the first two were getting lonely. The silly guy who’s scared of driving cars! None of this matches the image of the Partner he’s heard about and worked with, the miser, the taskmaster, the robber, the prodigy. Maybe he’s all of these in one, or maybe some of these are a result of masks that he wore so that he could climb so high while so young, so that the rest would take him seriously.

Whatever it is, whoever Daan is, Matthew wants to know. He’s always wanted to know. Heck, if he actually gets hit by a car tomorrow, one of his last thoughts would probably be cursing himself for a coward if he couldn’t let himself believe Daan and try.

“Deal.” Daan grins. “You know, my sister always says that the only reason I have these rabbits is so I can have friends. Now I can tell her that she’s absolutely right. I am a genius. She should listen to her brother. Now come take a look, I took a really good pic yesterday!”

Matthew shoves the paper wraps aside like the messy slob he is so he can move closer to see (he’s a reformed messy slob, he’ll clean it up later, but for now, cute bunnies take priority).

“Okay, so introductions are in order. Maple is the baby of the lot, he’s the brown-colored one, Hitam, she’s the black one, she was a baby when I adopted her, together with Nijntje, who is the grand dame of them all. I got them when I first moved back to Canada, which was in…”

Maybe this isn’t going to be the worst week of his life after all.

#nedcan #hetaliararepaircentral #fic: mr 7th floor

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ijustwant2write · 4 years

Text

Sweet Boy-Bonnie Gold x Reader x Finn Shelby (Part 2/?)

(GIF credit to @valentine-in-my-quinjet)

Part 1

Taglist: @stressedandbandobessed7771 @bethany-taylo @lovelynerdytraveler @savvy7392 @kingarthurscat @smallheathgangsters @soleil-dor @alyse45 @bloodorangemoonlight @amirahiddleston @captivatedbycillianmurphy @jenepleurepasbaby

Summary: (Y/N) agrees to go for some drinks with Bonnie, despite her reservations about him. She doesn't want to cause tension between the boys, but a part of her is enjoying the attention.

Characters: Bonnie Gold x Reader, Finn Shelby x Reader, Isaiah Jesus x Reader (platonic)

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

Warnings: Swearing, angst, arguing, threats, jealousy, fluff

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Bonnie's P. O. V

"Bonnie, I'm really not sure." (Y/N) said, looking apologetic.

My eyes cast down to the ground."Yeah, it's alright. If you don't want to come-"

"No, it's not the fact that I don't want to come. I think Finn is pissed off at me."

I looked back up at her, confidence returned."And you care about that?"

She smiled."No, I don't. Alright then, let's go."

I held out my arm for her, grinning when she looped her arm through mine. As we began walking, there was a small voice in my head warning me not to do this. Finn would be pissed, and Isaiah probably wouldn't be too happy either, it could cause tension within the group. I could potentially cause plans to fall under if we couldn't work well with each other. But as I said, that voice was small, very small.

I just couldn't understand how Finn could let (Y/N) get away. Understandably he had changed, the only male influence he had around him were his brothers, and they weren't the best role models; but (Y/N) would have stuck by his side if he let her in a little, she wasn't asking for much. However, I was glad that he called it off, gave me a final chance.

(Y/N) was so sweet, so nurturing but she had picked up the fierceness from the Shelby women. It didn't show for a while, she bit her tongue in order to not upset the family or risk losing her job, but the day she snapped at Finn was a showstopper; even Arthur was praising her afterwards.

"Never been in here before." (Y/N) stated as we approached the pub.

"Me neither."

"Oh, will we be alright in here?"

"I've got a peaky cap on haven't I?"

She was still hesitant, but walked in as I held the door open for her. Surprisngly, the place was full of various ages, both young and old, people just getting off their shifts at work. Some eyes turned our way, there were those bold enough to keep looking as I ordered for us at the bar. As soon as the drinks were handed over, I took (Y/N)'s hand and lead her to a table, moving it further into a corner so no one could hear us.

"Don't worry about them staring. It's their only form of entertainment." I reassured her.

"I know. Like earlier with the guns, just forgot about everyone watching after Finn..."

Finn's P. O. V

"Finn, calm down." Isaiah groaned as he tried to keep up with me.

"No, I won't. Who the fuck does he think he is?" I snapped back.

"That's just how Bonnie is, you know that."

"It doesn't give him any right."

"No, I know-"

I abruptly stopped walking, spinning around to face him."So you agree?"

"I mean, yes, I guess so-"

"Good." I went back to my walking.

"Finn."

"Look, we'll just forget about it for now, and speak to him tomorrow. I'm Finn fucking Shelby, he should listen to me. But tonight, we'll get smashed at the Garrison and-"

"If we're headed to the Garrison, why are we going towards (Y/N) 's flat?"

My footsteps slowed down, realising that he was right. I looked in the direction of her home, trying to brush off the fact that she would be there now, resting after today's work. I sniffed, fixing my suit.

"Come on mate, let's get a drink." Isaiah patted my shoulder, about to steer me away from the flats when we heard laughter.

My instincts forced me to see where it was from. I felt my blood boil and face scrunch up as I saw (Y/N) and Bonnie together, walking arm in arm away from her home. He had pushed it, I thought he was my friend, I was beginning to welcome him into the group, but he had turned around and fucked it all up.

"Finn, leave it. You don't care about anymore, remember?" Isaiah attempted to block my view.

"Is he fucking taking the piss?!" I seethed."He takes my girl after all that happened? Thought we were mates!"

"You've said you don't love her."

"I don't."

He scoffed."I think you do mate."

"Oh fuck off."

"Don't shoot the messenger! Look, if you don't want them to be together so much, then you need to sort it."

"How do you mean?"

"Let's go after them. Crash their little date."

"They'll just argue with us."

"Exactly. We get Bonnie riled up, he throws a few punches for no reason, he upsets (Y/N) and she never wants to see him again."

"You really think he'll start fighting us?"

"If we say the right words."

I pondered the idea for a moment. It was tempting to follow Isaiah's plan. The only way I knew how resolve most things was doing something like this. But (Y/N) was likely to take his side, and I couldn't be sure if we would be able to show a bad side of Bonnie.

"Right, we are going after them. But we'll not be fighting." I decided.

"What? Why?"

"Cause I said so."

Isaiah only replied with a huff, gesturing for me to lead. I straightened my back, peaking around the corner to check where they were. They were at the end of the street, a good distant away from us. I nodded to my friend before we headed after them, staying hidden as they mocked me by being...happy with each other.

(Y/N)'s P. O. V

As Bonnie told me one of his embarrassing stories of being relentlessly chased by one of his horses as a child, I found myself constantly smiling, staring into his eyes. They were wild, like his upbringing, but had a sense of control over me. I was entranced, captivated. And with his peaky cap laid out on the table, his curls were revealed, making me forget that he was even part of the gang for a moment. That small moment was bliss, though ruined when the doors opened again, the customers conversations dying down again. Bonnie stopped speaking too, both of our happy expressions slowly disappearing.

Finn and Isaiah waltzed in, leaning against the bar and ordering a drink. There was no point in trying to hide or leave. They were here because they knew we were. Rubbing my eyes, I didn't look at them again until I noticed their shoes beside me. With a scowl on my face, I tilted my head up, glaring at both of them.

"What are you two doing here?" I asked bitterly.

"Just having a drink, same as you two." Finn said.

"And you couldn't go to the Garrison?"

"Tom has a deal with this pub, as well as many others. And we're allowed to drink where we want."

"Well I wouldn't know any of that, seeing as you never spoke to me, even in the relationship."

Isaiah sat down."We wanted a change of scenery. Nothing exciting happens at the Garrison anymore."

I was hurt that Isaiah was joining in on this. Finn was his friend first and foremost, I understood that, but we were all adults. There was no need for this childish behaviour that led to no where.

"You could have thrown a punch, that's how you normally have fun." I spat.

Bonnie sniggered, covering it up by drinking his beer.

"What the fuck you laughing at?" Finn frowned.

"I mean, she's telling the truth." Bonnie mumbled.

"Always have something to say don't you?"

"Finn, don't start." I warned.

"He started it!"

I shook my head laughing."Oh my god. You've literally just come here to torment us. It's not against the law for us to have a few drinks."

"No, but I could ban you both from here."

"Why? I would just tell Tommy and he would probably lift it."

"You can't undermine me."

"And you can't speak to her like that!" Bonnie raised his voice, attracting even more attention.

"Bonnie-" I tried to stop him, but he and Finn were already staring at each other, tensing up.

"You've done enough gypsy boy."

"You're fucking family are descended from gypsies."

"Guy, stop it. We're going to get kicked out." I tried to get in between them, but nothing broke their glares.

"They can't kick me out, I'm a Shelby."

I rolled my eyes at Finn, standing up as I grabbed me things.

"(Y/N), where are you going?" Bonnie also stood.

"It's been a long day, and I don't want to be embarrassed any further."

I practically stomped out of the pub, ignoring everyone watching me. Clumsily, I shoved on my coat, trying to cool down from my blushing cheeks. I heard the doors burst open even though I was halfway down the street, before Bonnie called my name.

"(Y/N)! Please, wait, I'm sorry!" he called after me.

"Just leave me alone Bonnie, please. There's been enough trouble today." I shouted over my shoulder.

"At least let me walk you home."

I sighed as Bonnie managed to get in front of me, blocking my way."No, please don't."

His face dropped, head slowly nodding."Yeah, sorry. Shouldn't be harassing you like this."

"You're not harassing me Bonnie. It's just...Finn and I haven't been separated for that long, and I don't want this to be the reason that you two despise each other, and then one day you two might turn your back on each other, then one of you winds up hurt or dead; then it's all my fault and the family hates me, and...and I'm haunted by it for the rest of my life."

"Shit, when did you have time to think about all this?"

"It's all I thought about everyday when I was with Finn. It's what you think about when the people you love are in danger." I hid my chuckle as Bonnie smirked."That wasn't me professing my love to you."

He shrugged."I didn't say that."

"Thank you for the drikk Bonnie. I was having a good time until he showed up."

"Speak of the devil."

Looking over my shoulder, I saw Finn leaning against the pub wall, smoking. Turning back to Bonnie, I tried my best to smile, even if I was upset.

"I'll see you tomorrow Bonnie."

Bonnie P. O. V

Watching (Y/N) walk away, I withheld the anger bubbling inside me. She waved to me one last time before disappearing into her building. My steps had force in them as I walked away, unfortunately having to pass Finn on the way.

"Haven't got anything to say to me?" Finn sneered.

"No." I simply replied, continuing to walk.

"Thought not. Know your place."

My head tilted back as I chuckled, stopping in my tracks. I went to snap back at him, tempted to say so many things that he would end up crying. But my dad had always taught my to hold back, save the big finish so that the audience would be happy. That tactic worked out for me a lot, and I knew it wouldn't fail me, not with Finn. My strategy was all planned out, I just hoped it would be a fair fight.

#bonnie gold #bonnie gold one shot #bonnie gold ship #bonnie gold x reader #bonnie gold imagine #bonnie gold imagines #finn shelby imagines #finn shelby one shot #finn shelby imagine #finn shelby x reader #finn shelby #peaky blinders imagines #peaky blinders imagine #peaky boys #bbc peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders

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