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#arthur how did you fumble her
scythegirl13 · 1 month
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v lazy mary davis but i finally drew her. i love mary davis…you deserve women to treat you well. mary davis you will always be famous
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the-eclectic-wonderer · 4 months
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Sometimes I remember the fact that Stanley Zbornak spent 38 years lying to, cheating on, and being a horrible husband to this:
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Personally if this woman even looked at me I would kiss the very ground she walked on
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captainreecejames · 3 months
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Miss Movin On || My Ex is a Footballer CL16 Edition
links [masterlist] [my ex series masterlist] [series update with more footballers]
summary your ex is engaged and you haven't moved on, or have you?
pairings ex!federico chiesa x reader, charles leclerc x reader faceclaim benedetta porcaroli
warnings cursing, mentions of austria 24
notes lol this is kinda short but my head has been hurting for the past few days so I haven't been able to do much. Fernando Alonso's my ex is the next one I'm working on.
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yn's instagram messages -----
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yn's messages -----
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twitter ------
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ynusername posted a story -------
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ynusername posted ---------
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liked by carmenmmundt, arthurleclerc and others
ynusername me and the bestie tagged opheliamillaiss
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opheliamillaiss ti amo ynnie! i love you ynnie ↳ ynusername sei bellessima you are beautiful
username1 i HAVE seen two pretty best friends
username7 she's trying to distract us from her story ↳ username8 yn, babe, who was the man??
username2 why is arthur leclerc lurking in the likes? ↳ username3 was it him in the story? ↳ username2 no i don't think so ↳ username3 your're right, looked more like charles
username4 girl it's time to move on ↳ username5 she posts about her friend and you guys are mentioning chiesa! can't make anyone happy here
username6 thoughts on the euros? ↳ ynusername :(((
yn's whatsapp messages -------
"unofficial official drivers group chat"
charlie now accepting caption ideas for my post about yn
ynnie charles no
max emilian charles yes
ynnie max no
danny ric max yes
landotd max no
ynnie lol not the norstappen breakup drama
landotd you made this my name didn't you
ynnie well... yes you did say it was better than the actual trophy 🤷‍♀️
landotd you make me want to say max yes
ynnie lmao telling the f1 girlies that I'm the reason yall are getting back together
charlie and none of you are helping me with the caption
frenchie pie shhh cha, we're watching the girls fighting messaged haha'd by 11
princess george "imagine getting knocked out of the euros and losing yn, couldn't be me"
albono aww, george that's a good one
carmen 🩵 that's because it's my idea
lily 🏌️🏻‍♀️💙 I knew it babe
aussie son fumbled the bag and the girl or winning isn't for everyone, but it is for me 👎🏻 by ynnie
lily 🧡 how about monagasque men do it better 👎🏻 by ynnie
carmen 🩵 damn lils!
frenchie pie "you broke her heart, I breaka da spaghetti" 👎🏻 by ynnie
logie bear "formula 1 > soccer"
lewlew make that football and you got a good one
kmags why are we coming up with captions?
hulk 💚 because yn's ex man is messaging her being a dick and so charles has decided to hard launch
kmags ohhh wait, how do you know this nico?
hulk 💚 I stay in the know 💪🏼
ynnie gotta keep my grid dad up to date
nando why the fuck is he your grid dad??
lewlew yeah wtf?
ynnie uhm, cause my grid dad can't be my boyfriends grid dad or my son's dad's boyfriend???
charlie still getting off topic
frenchie pie don't worry chiesa, she's moved on to someone better
kika!! 💘 pierre, he is not saying that!
ynnie thank you!! someone actually on my side
kika!! 💘 say 'don't worry, she's moved on'
ynnie how about none of those
charlie i don't see you coming up with anything, mon cherie
ynnie meet my love, yn?? my beautiful girlfriend, yn?? something normal please
charles_leclerc posted ------
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liked by ynusername, scuderiaferrari and others
charles_leclerc don't worry bud, she's moved on
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username11 calling chiesa bud is insane
username12 two different tifosi coming together to NOT maximize their joint slay ↳ username11 charles really declaring war on juve fans ↳ username12 who will win? ferrari or juve?
ynusername sha, this is not what we agreed on. ↳ charles_leclerc but this is funnier, no? ↳ ynusername I blame pierregasly for this ↳ pierregasly that's okay, MY bestie is iconic ↳ francisca.cgomes are you calling me not iconic ↳ ynusername hahaha, let's all laugh at pierre now ♥️ by estebanocon ↳ username13 not estie bestie liking that comment
username14 THE HAND ON HER THROAT IN THE SECOND PICTURE??? YN HOW DID YOU SURVIVE? ↳ username15 BITCH WHO CARES ABOUT THAT HAND!! LOOK AT THE FIRST PICTURE! ↳ username14 charles marking his spot like a dog
lewishamilton look at you two! ↳ ynusername hi future teammate!
logansargeant i liked my suggestion :( ↳ charles_leclerc me too ↳ oscarpiastri personally my options were better ↳ username16 now I want to know what you all suggested ↳ logansargeant formula 1 > soccer
username17 someone should edit that picture of jorginho getting the spaghetti dumped on him to chiesa, but it's actually formula 1 cars ↳ username18 winning isn't for everyone, but it is for Charles ↳ oscarpiastri that's what I said! ↳ username18 omg twins!
username19 chiesa really fumbled the bag ↳ oscarpiastri I said that one too! ↳ username19 oscar just twinning with everyone!
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pacifymebby · 10 months
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Arthur and a walk with the reader and their child. Maybe they're walking around their garden. Or Arthur tells the baby the names of the horses in the stable.
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Fatherhood hadn't exactly come naturally to Arthur. He'd always been scared of having children, scared he was going to be like his own dad - flighty and unreliable - scared he was going to pass on the dreaded Shelby curse. Worse still, scared he'd end up raising a son just as violent, just as angry, pained and fragile as he viewed himself.
But when you'd fallen pregnant the first time he'd seen the tears of joy in your eyes and felt them mirrored in his. Sure, the fear hadn't dissipated and he was convinced he'd always be scared shitless of the wee one - not that he'd ever tell you that - but the second he had laid eyes on her that fear was dulled somewhat by a sense of great purpose. A sense of purpose which had overwhelmed him completely when he'd held your little girl in his arms for the first time, her head small enough it fit in the palm of his hand, her little body so tiny he could hold her like that, head in palm, little feet resting on his forearm as he bounced her gently to sleep.
He'd looked down at your little girl and known that no matter what he felt, no matter how bleak the world around him felt, he would always keep persevering for you and her. He'd do anything to make her life peaceful and full of joy. She was like a little ray of sunshine cut through all the bad, a diamond in the rough. He couldn't stop smiling and even now, a year later, he couldn't help but grin whenever he laid eyes on his little one.
Still, he often found himself at a loss to do. It wasn't that he was scared of her as such, it was that he couldn't quite relax when he was near her. Her big eyes looking at him expectantly. The knowledge that she relied on him completely, to look after her, to keep her safe... It was scary, it made him nervous. Meant that more often than not a lot of the time he spent with her was also spent with you because he knew that you wouldn't let anything go wrong. You would be there to sooth her if he was too rough or clumsy when he was holding her. He was terrified of making her cry, scared even just to think that he might, that if she did he wouldn't be able to help her, would only make things worse.
Today however was different. For the first time since the little girl had been born you'd left him alone with her. He'd been stunned when you'd told him that morning that you had to go out into the city for the day and wouldn't be able to take the baby with you. He'd stuttered and fumbled his words trying to ask you why not, all "but... How long are you gonna be gone for what should I do if.. If..."
"If what Arth? You'll be fine," you'd said with a smille shaking your head fondly. The truth was you could have taken the baby with you, the three of you could all have gone into town together but that wasn't what you wanted. What you wanted was for Arthur to realise he was a good dad, a capable father. For him to realise that his little girl thought the sun shone out of her daddy, just the same as he thought that of her. You'd noticed Arthurs apparent awkwardness from day one and you knew he'd always been worried about fatherhood.
You'd hoped that he'd settle into the role eventually, that he'd realise he really didn't have anything to fear... But as time had passed and you realised he still looked a little on edge just holding the little darling, you realised that you were going to have to intervene. Perhaps pushing him into the deep end wasn't the best idea, but you didn't know what else to do.
You'd already tried gently pulling back, leaving them to play together in the next room, leaving him to read to her, asking him to walk her round the garden when she couldn't sleep. Arthur always managed to stay close to you, to fall back on you. It wasn't exactly bad but you knew it couldn't be a good thing either. Besides, you wanted your daughter to love her father, to grow up trusting him, seeing the good in him. You didnt want her to feel he was distant or awkward. That would be just too sad.
So you'd left him alone, closed the front door and hurried off into the city to spend the day with your friends shopping. And now there he was, sitting at the kitchen table, your little girl Lily sitting on the table, one hand in a bowl of mashed banana the other in her mouth.
"Sposed to eat the food darlin how many times av i told you eh, foods for eatin not paintin..." chuckled Arthur, his low grumble broken by his smile. Lily really was a daddy's girl and he couldn't get mad at her for anything, even when she'd smeared herself, him and the table with banana and honey gloop.
"Right, alright," he smiled tickling her belly through her dress as he reached to pick her up, "you've had your fun with that now i reckon, time to get you cleaned up an then you an daddy have the whole day to do whatever we like, how does that sound darlin? How about that eh?" he said kissing her on the head, using his thumb to scoop a little of the banana from her cheek. When he licked his fingers he screwed his nose up.
"No alright I don't blame you littlen, thas no good for owt but paintin with..." He mused as he scooped her up in his arms and kissed her cheek which only meant that they were both covered in banana and honey gloop.
But once he was holding her in his arms he was once again at a loss, uncertain how he should even speak to her. He'd heard it was good to talk to babies as though they were adults because it helped them learn how to have intelligent conversations, but he wasn't sure he would be much use there. He couldn't remember having ever had the kind of conversation others might consider intellectual.
Besides he wasn't half as gentle talking to adults as he was with Lily. Didn't seem right for him to start talking to her the way he talked to his brothers, nor did it seem right for him to talk to her the way he spoke to you. So he stood in the kitchen doorway looking out at the chickens pecking at the dirt on the drive and he bounced Lily in his arms until she giggled and clasped her little hand around the hairs in his beard.
He grinned, the sound of her laugh was ever so contagious and never failed to make him smile.
"Right well, how about a nice little walk round the garden eh, suns out and I can introduce you to all the animals round the farm eh? What dya reckon sunshine would you like that?" He asked her looking down at her with all the love in the world. She was so pure and precious and that was exactly why he got so nervous to be with her, just seeing the joy and innocence in her bright doe eyes made his stomach twist with anxiety at the thought that he wasn't good enough for her. That he could never be the kind of dad she deserved because he wasn't a good enough man.
But when she smiled up at him and reached for his face with her tiny hand, her stubby little fingers skimming his beard as she giggled and said "dada dada," one of the only words she could he found his nerves replaced with a swell of pride and a smile he couldn't shake off.
"Alright then sunshine," he said with a grin, bouncing her in his arms as he carried her out of the kitchen door and into the garden, the stoned beneath his feet crunching as he made his way to the gathering of chickens on the driveway. He'd fed them earlier that morning but he still had some dried corn in his pockets and he was hoping Lily would enjoy scattering a handful or two across the garden.
"Right then sweetheart," he said using his finger to uncurl the little toddlers hand, "here we are you take some of this shite... Fu.. I mean... Sorry darlin eh, you just ignore your daddy he's a very naughty man eh, you just feed the chickens an ignore him eh..." he grinned sheepishly as he did his best to fill her tiny hand with dried corn. She scrunched her fist up tight around and smiled flexing her fingers a little too soon so that when the feed fell from her hand it fell all down Arthur's shirt and got stuck on his trouser legs.
"You little rotter," he chuckled kissing her forehead as he boosted her up in his arms and helped her have another go. His dismay only setting in when one of the chickens began pecking at his ankles to pick at the feed little Lilly had dropped all over him. "Oh bloody... Go'wan get away!" He grumbled at the hen who seemed determined to peck right through his trouser leg. As he shook the troublesome bird off his ankle Lilly looked down at the silly little scene from her Daddy's arms, her eyes lit up as a giggle escaped her. And when Arthur looked down at her well there was no way he could remain frustrated or preoccupied with that damn chicken.
He couldn't do anything but smile when he looked down at little Lilly, couldn't do anything but beam down at her and press another kiss to her bonny head, heart full to bursting with pride every time she smiled.
"Right darlin right let daddy show you this time eh, let's do it together..." he said taking her little hand beneath his and guiding her as she threw the seed across the path. This time it really scattered and the two of them grinned down at their success as the chickens gathered and began eating the feed from the ground rather than from Arthur's leg. "That's better there we go that's fu... That's better."
Not swearing in front of Lily was perhaps the hardest part of fatherhood. It was the only thing you'd notice he hadn't quite taken so naturally too. Even if he couldn't see it himself, in every other element of fatherhood he was perfect. He was loving, a little clumsy but gentle and nurturing always. He made your little girl laugh like nobodys business. He was always worrying about her, always the first to rush to her side if she took a trip or bashed her head... He was perfect. But he just couldn't control that potty mouth of his. The bad words just had a way of slipping out and you were beginning to worry that when Lilly finally managed her first word that first word would be "fuck."
"Right then little miss sunshine," he grinned bouncing her in his arms, unable to hold back his fond chuckle when Lilly began giggling at his jostling movement, "let's introduce you to everyone eh... This beautys name is Eloise, she's pretty for a chicken ain't she, what dya reckon my darlin? Prettiest chicken you've ever seen right, beautiful, gorgeous bird... And this... This is Audrey... She's a bit, she's a bit stuck up if you ask me like, look at her see, strutting around like she owns the place... And this, this little rotter of a bird, her name's Helen and she's got one bloody... She's got one very sharp f.. beak on her, aye one very sharp beak.."
Lilly tried to reach down to the chickens, stretching her tiny body away from Arthur's and though she was only small, for a second she almost managed to tip their shared balance so that Arthur stumbled and almost - thankfully only almost - stepped on the smallest chicken. That was your chicken, one you'd found shrinking away, not doing as well as the other chicks in the brood. You'd insisted upon bringing her into the house to look after yourself, insisted on naming her too which Arthur had tried to encourage you against. It wasn't that he was cruel he just didn't want you to get attached to a chick that might not survive. But she had survived and now she lived out in the garden with the others.
"Ahh," chuckled Arthur thinking of you fondly, wishing you were there with him and Lilly. "You've found your mammy's hen little one, her names Pearl..." He said crouching down so that Lilly could get a closer look, being sure to hold her up and away from the hens who were prone to a curious peck or two.
Lilly watched them with wide curious eyes, her little smile breaking into a giggle as she watched the birds funny little walk, the way they jutted their necks with each step.
She flinched when Helen and Audrey began clucking a little too wildly for her baby ears and Arthur decided that perhaps it was time to head to the stables instead. It would be quieter inside the stable and the horses were gentle beasts Lilly would be able to pat and babble at to her heart's content.
"Alright little poppet," smiled Arthur kissing his little girls cheek again, his mustache tickling her cheek and neck so that her giggle rang out melodically around the garden. That sound was music to Arthur's ears. It was the sound which reassured him he wasn't such a bad man after all. That if nothing else, he would always know that there was one person on this earth he could make smile. And she just so happened to be the most important person on this earth too.
The stable was quiet just as he'd hoped and where the sun broke through the scattered cracks in the roof the afternoons warm light filtered in and graced the hay on the floor with a golden glow.
"Alright," he whispered, his beard tickling Lilly's face as he leant in to talk quietly in her ear. He always tried to be quiet when he came to the stables. It was such a gentle, peaceful little place and he liked to preserve it. Keep it soft, a sanctuary not just for the animals but for him. "Alright," he whispered, "there's someone who wants to meet you little one..." he said carrying Lilly to one of the stall where the newest addition to the family was standing on shakey little legs.
"But we've got to be nice a quiet eh my darlin, cause he's only a baby int he, just like you... So he might be shy..." he put his finger over Lilly's lips and shushed, grinned when he felt her blow a hissed "Shhhh" of her own against his hand. When he carried her over to meet the little foal he was struck by how similar they were, considering one was after all a baby horse and the other a baby girl.
But they were. They were both so delicate. So pure. These tiny, vulnerable little creatures who depended on him in their own way. Two sweet little lives to be nurtured and loved. Two tiny things he had to be gentle with.
He wasn't sure how he was going to manage that but he knew that since Lilly had been born he'd learnt a lot about being gentle. That slowly but surely he was learning tenderness too.
"Ain't she beautiful eh Lilly?" He whispered. It wasn't the first time he'd seen the little foal but as Lilly gazed at the timid creature in awe Arthur felt the softness in his own eyes. The melting of his cold heart. "Wanna say hello littlen?" He asked taking an apple from his pocket to settle the foals nerves.
"Hello lovely," he said holding the apple out and watching as the foal eyed them warily. He was still working on trust with this one, something Tommy had always been better at than him. Still he was determined to show the little creature his gentle side, prove that he could trust him. Not just for the foals sake but for his own sake too. Prove to himself that he could be gentle too.
And so when the foal approached him, his little legs shaking, Arthur couldn't hide the grin, couldn't hide the swell of pride which rose to his chest and then got stuck in his throat when little Lilly reached her hand out to stroke the foals soft hair.
"Careful now sweetie pie," he whispered to Lilly, "nice and gentle eh don't wanna spook him..." but the foal was far from spooked. In fact he seemed to warm to Lilly, standing patient and still whilst she stroked his nose with a smile on her lips.
"Tell you what darlin," smiled Arthur, it had been his plan from the very beginning but he presented it to her now as though he'd only just thought it up, "since you two're gettin along so well eh, why don't you come up with a name for him? Hasn't got one yet have you mate?" He said copying his daughters gentle movements and giving the little foal a pat.
But when Lilly looked up at him and smiled, clapped her little hands together with this big beaming grin on her face, her wide eyes bright with mischief, Arthur realised that perhaps it was a little too soon to offer her that kind of responsibility.
"Hmmm," he chuckled as he stood quietly, letting Lilly continue to pet her new best friend. He wasn't expecting her to be the one to break the silence. Certainly not in the way that she did... With a word she'd not yet said before.
"Da..." she said reaching out to stroke the foals nose again, "Dada!" When she said it Arthur couldn't quite believe his ears. Wasn't sure he hadn't just imagined it. But when he looked down at Lilly his smile already too much to be contained, she turned to look up at him and pointed at the foal, her own eyes bright and smiling too.
"Dada!" She said again pointing at the little foal, waving her hands to get Arthur's attention - though she had his undivided attention in that moment. He was stunned by her, could hardly process the emotions he felt. Struggling to keep the tears out of his eyes.
"No sweetheart," he grinned kissing her head and turning her round to face him, "that's me.. I'm Dada!" He chuckled, laughing louder when she pointed once more to the foal and repeated herself over and over again until he was forced to accept that when you came home and asked about his day he would have no choice but to tell you all about it. How lovely it was. How Lilly enjoyed meeting the little foal... "He's called Dada by the way..."
Taglist:
@call-sign-shark
@inalovesrabbits-blog
@cocoaflowers
@zablife
@jomarch-wannabe
@itsghostgirlyo
@marwwfairy
@toddlerbodybag
@everysage
@tommyshelbywhore
@kas3ylovesyou
@kxnnxy
@starrykitn
@only-malala
@galactict3a
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mooncalf87 · 6 months
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Cherrisnake??? 🥺🥺🥺🥺💕💕💕💕💕 Tell me more
SORRY THIS TOOK ME SO LONG my brain short circuited and I couldn't fathom this ask lol
EVEN MORE CHERRISNAKE HCS <3
Forgive me if some of these are repeats, I dont remember what I did on the first two lists LOLOL also I am gonna do a few with my Pentious fan kid Adelaide, but I'll indicate where that starts
Snuggle bug. Pentious craves physical touch and comfort CONSTANTLY, which Cherri enjoys giving.
If you put them in a room together and lock the door there is a good 80% chance they will find out how to make a bomb out of carpet fuzz and drywall
They are big on PDA, but they- and everyone really- dont really notice it. They love giving quick kisses to each other, Cherri often finds her seat all cuddled up in Pentious's lap. It is a normal thing at the hotel, no one thinks much of it.
Cherri isn't interested in getting redeemed, which is something that Pentious 100% respects. They make it work
Pentious tried to propose but dropped the ring like 5 times. Cherri even handed it back to him once (he didn't realize)
Adhd couple
Their ideal date night is getting drunk off their asses and blowing up the Vee district
Pen is far from being a virgin, but he fumbles around in bed like one. Cherri finds it HILARIOUS
Pentious goes to Husk for relationship advice, and so does Cherri. Husk gets ALLLLLL the drama.
Cherri likes sweet/sugary stuff but Pen doesn't- pen has made jokes like "I'll have to break up with you, it just won't work. we are enemies 😔"
Sense their eras are so far apart, they love to teach each other about their time
Pentious, due to growing up in thr 1800s, didn't get a great education. He is great with building and stuff, but he doesn't know how to write or read very well. Cherri teaches him, and writing is one of his favorite things now.
Pen fell first. That man was smitten from day one. It took cherri a good 4 decades to realize her feelings
Adelaide stuff starts here! (Little bit of info: they are pents kids who were angels and he reunited with them in heaven. Adelaide is 3. She has a brother named Arthur, but I won't be including hcs about him, because he is not my character! His creator is @/emositecc, go to their page of you wanna learn about him!)
Cherri loves Pents kids SO. MUCH. She loves being a mother figure to them
Cherri is closest with Adelaide but she loves them both so so much
Adelaide CAN talk, but she is preferably non-verbal! The only time Cherri has ever heard her talk was when she called her "mama" once (cherri cried)
They were both in Pent and Cherris wedding
I do hc requests!
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look-at-the-soul · 2 years
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Save yourself- Tommy Shelby x reader
So ages agooooo @runnning-outof-time posted a Kaleo song that I kept listening to over and over again, then @shelbydelrey made a cheating theme celebration 🎉 and I had been working since forever in both ideas but something was missing… until I decided to mix it and this came as the result.
K, I hope you like the result of using this particular song (Idk what idea you had in mind for it), but it gave me these vibes.💖
Isa, I couldn’t decide how to approach this particular theme, but Tommy cheating seemed to come to life by itself… and I hope it’s not too late to celebrate you 💕
⚠️ Cheating, angst
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Y/N removed the hat as she walked into the House of Watery Lane, feeling so much better than the previous night, she had to leave the Grand re-opening of The Garrison early after feeling unwell, but after some tea and crackers, the only food her stomach seemed to accept. Polly offered her house because it was closer and she didn’t want to disturb anyone or ruin the fun for them, Ada was finally visiting them, Arthur was the happiest she had seen him in a long time, proud of the new and flashy decoration, and Tommy… well he just was enjoying himself to take him back home just because she was tired and nauseous.
Opening the door, she found a scene she never wanted to see; Tommy, her Tommy in bed with not one, but two women.
It weighs heavier on one's heart
I could tell right from the start that sweet ones are hard to come across
Her heart stopped beating for an instant, while the realization was sinking in… there was an indescribable ache, so hard to breathe… imagining his arms around them, giving those women the same pleasure he gave her endless nights.
He was just as shocked as she was, and quickly he tried to get up, untangling himself from them, shit, what did he do? Y/N didn’t deserved that. As she felt her stomach up in her throat, she couldn’t watch them anymore.
Snapping fast from her trance, she found herself turning around, strangely calmed, a realization hitting her like a bullet, heartbeat now drumming against her ribs, her fingers felt numb, clumsy, as if she had a big cloud inside her head.
She wasn’t going to make a huge drama out of it, she wouldn’t ask for explanations, she didn’t feel like listening to lame excuses to justify his actions. No, she walked out of there in silence, with her heart shattered into million pieces, yes, but she would get over it, just like she had been all of her life.
Tommy rushed to get dressed, shouting for her to wait, he would ask for forgiveness, beg on his knees, tell her it was just a mistake. Fumbling with his pants, he picked up his peaky cap from the floor, breaking an empty bottle of whiskey as he stumbled. Trying hard to tuck in his shirt inside of his pants, but she was gone already. She was the best thing of his fucking life and he ruined.
Heart like yours is rare to find
Someone else's gain will be my loss
Revenge could come in different forms, she could’ve steal all the money from the safe in their room or the one in his office, fuck him over, force him to buy her expensive presents to make it up for it all, she could fuck anyone right there in front of him just to give him back what he did. Anyone would suggest make him pay, make him beg and watch him suffer…
But she wasn’t going to make an scandal. No, her reaction was much lethal than that.
She would leave in silence, without tears, without shouting, no pointing fingers.
He turned out to be just like his father, she knew that would kill him, the comparison.
Choose your words before you speak
Can you see that all you've got is time?
Tommy rushed down the street cursing at himself, feeling the worse headache forming and found her in their bedroom, a single travel bag over the bed, she was calmly folding her clothes.
Just as she packed their bags to go to their country house.
“Y/N please.” Tommy pleaded desperate.
His words meant nothing now, all of those empty promises, the dreams they had together… gone.
Seeing her like that was worse than hear her shouting, breaking things, yelling at him. That would’ve been the expected reaction after what she saw. But she wasn’t even crying or hitting him, he deserved that.
He’d have preferred that, a million slaps than this.
She took a moment to check her belongings and walked towards the dresser to retrieve her passport and important papers. She arrived to this house with just a few things and she would leave just about the same.
“Y/N… nothing I could say could repair what I did, but I swear it meant nothing, it was a mistake, I was so drunk…” she wasn’t even listening to him anymore, it was just a buzz in the back of her mind. “I lost control…” he drank a lot, mixed it with an obscene amount of snow, didn’t even realize…fuck.
Walking into the nursery, she went directly to the first drawer and carefully, took a blanket that Polly knitted for the baby, the nappies and the rabbit that Ada bought for their unborn child. Yeah, she really didn’t need all those expensive gifts he gave her.
“I’ll go somewhere else, you can stay here I won’t bother you,” Tommy kept babbling while she walked past him, back into the bedroom they once shared.
Still in complete silence.
He knew Y/N better than the palm of his hand, he knew he should stay away right now, but he needed her to stop packing, this silent treatment only added more worry and stress to his already altered heart.
And that was the only time she dared to look at him in the eyes, making him wish she never did. Shoving away his hand from her body as he tried to reach her.
Tommy deserved a slap, deserved to have his balls cut, but she wasn’t going to lose time in that.
He started to see white dots when Y/N closed the bag, it wasn’t completely full yet and she seemed to be done.
And not just with the bag, but with him as well.
Tommy rubbed his hands all over his face, lost for words, feeling his entire world coming to an imminent end. It didn’t matter that he was stronger than her, in that very moment he felt so small, so useless, knowing that nothing he did, would make her change her mind.
But he tried, he tried to grab the bag from her hands as she stood at the top of the stairs, still begging for forgiveness.
“Fine, I don’t need that either.” She wasn’t even going to try to fight him over the bag, especially not close to the stairs, she just wanted to leave.
She knew she deserved better, not because she was someone important, but because she knew her value and she wanted respect, simple as that. Birmingham could be his territory, but he wasn’t her owner.
“No no, Y/N, listen to me please…” he rushed down, to stop her from opening the door.
But she was determined to leave, with or without the bag, of course that wasn’t going to stop her.
Before she met him, she had several wooers, with better intentions than him, but he was determined to make her fall for him, and that was the greatest mistake of her life.
Oh darling, save yourself for someone else
“We’ve a story together, Y/N, please…”
Save yourself
Oh, won't you save yourself?
“You can’t take away my child!” He snapped breathlessly, panicking because he was running out of time, of reasons to make her stay.
Are you going to break?
The look Y/N gave him, could’ve easily turned him into stone, a sarcastic smile playing in her lips.
“Now it’s a good time to remember you have a baby on the way, should’ve think of that last night, don’t you think?”
Y/N ripped the bag from his hand.
It would be just her baby and herself, away from this life, away from the risks, away from his lies.
She was unsure of a lot of things, but there was one around her mind in that very moment, sometimes you need to save yourself.
The worst part of it, was that Tommy knew deep down, that Y/N would be better off without him.
***
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One of Us
A Scooby Doo: Mystery Incorporated/Mystery Skulls Crossover
<Prev
Chapter 26
Erase Me
There was something good about the Mystery Machine. It was filled with a sort of warmth that never really went away. And almost always, it was filled with sound. Plotting, theorizing, and swapping stories and information while on a mystery. Or in mundane moments, there would be idle chatter, laughter, music or voices drifting from the radio, tapping from Velma’s computer as she typed away, or Shaggy and Scooby munching away in the back seat. And even when the Mystery Machine did fall silent, there was a sort of lightness to be found there; when five friends could find comfort in a familiar place with nothing more than one another’s presence.
It was never a good thing when the Mystery Machine was the other kind of quiet. 
This kind of quiet. 
The sort of heavy silence when there was an elephant in the room. So many words that needed said - would inevitably be said, but weren’t ready to come out. And yet the five of them were so stuck in their own thoughts that it didn’t seem very quiet at all. But to the sixth occupant of the van, the silence was suffocating. 
Before the drive, before the quiet, back at Daisy’s when she and Steven had finally walked back into the living room, the five Mystery Solvers had barely moved and none of them had spoken. Daisy, mascara slightly smudged, had stood in front of her sister and said, “Daphne.” 
But Daphne didn’t look at her. 
“Daphne,” Daisy said again. And this time she actually knelt down. Daisy Blake, who had never once stepped down to meet her little sister in the middle, knelt down to look her in the eyes. This time, Daphne looked up. 
“Steven and I talked about it and… we’ll do it.”
The next few hours passed in a blur. They called the Mystery Skulls back inside and Vivi and Lewis did most of the talking. Logistics. Timing. Whens, wheres, and hows. Plans and backup plans. Numbers were exchanged for if and when those plans changed and so the nitty-gritty details could be hammered out later, and then they were leaving. 
Daisy led them out herself, Steven beside her, but as Mystery Incorporated was heading down her front steps Daisy said, “Daphne?” And when her sister turned around, Daisy looked like she didn’t know what to say. Or perhaps like she wanted to say more than what came out. “Just- like… be careful. M’kay?” 
“I- uh… okay Daisy. You too.” Daphne stammered, bewildered.
Then they were at the Mystery Machine, and Fred was fumbling with the keys when Lewis gently placed his hand over them. “Fred,” he said, “I’ll drive.”
“Huh? What do you mean you’ll drive? C’mon Lewis, that’s ridiculous,” Fred tried to laugh it off, but he wasn’t fooling anyone. 
“Dude,” Lewis said, gently yet firmly, “you guys have been twitchy since… look, you can barely get the car started with how bad your hands are shaking. You are in no state to drive. Please, Fred. Let me.”
And as much as Fred loved the Mystery Machine, he didn’t fight Lewis on it any further. But once they were actually in the van, heading back to the mansion behind Vivi and Mystery in the other vehicle, the quiet set in. 
The sort of tense silence that had Lewis very, very worried. What had they seen? Because whatever Mr. E had been facing then, it was what Arthur was facing now! 
And Mystery Incorporated knew that. Really, they did. And they were thinking about it. But their thoughts were also elsewhere, elsewhere, and all over the place. 
Yet individually, they stood united under one question: How could you?
Mr. E was the one person who believed in Professor Pericles more than anything. The one who gave him another chance, even after everything. His best friend. And he’d-
But that train of thought just made them replay what they’d seen all over again. And that was one thing Shaggy absolutely did not want to do. Just thinking about it made his skin crawl. 
He kept having to remind himself that Ricky wasn’t there anymore. He was safe and sound in Shaggy’s body back at the Mystery Skulls’ mansion. And Shaggy was safe and sound in Arthur’s body - but where did that leave Arthur? 
It isn’t fair, he thought to himself. It wasn’t fair that Arthur was fighting a battle that wasn’t his own. The way Mr. E had screamed in that video… Arthur had already endured what Ricky had at least once. Had he screamed that way too? Was he screaming now? He shouldn’t be, and it wasn’t fair! But if Shaggy wished Arthur to be safe and sound back where he belonged, then where would that leave Ricky? And Shaggy- 
Once his train of thought went down that road, Shaggy shrank in on himself and felt dirty. He wasn’t a stranger to being afraid. Or running away, or wanting to quit. But this time? That kind of thinking made Shaggy feel like a rotten, selfish, ungrateful coward. Because if they could swap bodies one more time and Shaggy had the chance to take their place, he knew he wouldn’t have the strength to do it. And for a moment, he wasn’t sad for Ricky or worried about Arthur. He was just glad that it wasn’t him. 
Feeling awful about himself, Shaggy looked up and his eyes wandered to each face in the Mystery Machine. Scooby was laying at Shaggy’s feet, ears drooped. He looked oddly guilty, or as though he was going to be sick. Velma, sitting next to Shaggy, had alternated between looking completely blank or on the verge of tears ever since they’d seen the footage. And from what he could see in the front seats, Daphne was looking out the window and Fred was staring straight ahead. So while he could not see their expressions, he could see the glances Lewis kept giving them; And his face told Shaggy everything he needed to know. 
With a sigh, Shaggy looked down at Arthur’s prosthetic arm, flexing the metal fingers thoughtfully. Now wasn’t the time to be feeling bad about what a shitty person he was (which of course only served to make him feel even worse) for one simple and obvious reason: it wasn’t about him. It was about Ricky. Ricky, who had been carrying all of this around from the beginning. Ricky, who had trusted them with one of the most horrible things to ever happen to him, and was probably waiting back at the mansion right now worrying over what their reaction was going to be. Ricky, who was somehow brave enough and strong enough to face what Shaggy knew he couldn’t.
Mr. E. 
Who didn’t really have anybody else. 
So the five of them would have to do.
༻˚⁺・⚉。○✼༓☾⦾♫෴♡💛♡෴♫⦾☽༓✼○。⚉・⁺˚༺
When they arrived at the manor, they found Ricky and Angel in the library. 
Not that they were exactly difficult to find. The Dead Beats were diligently patrolling the hallway outside and their voices were drifting down the corridor from the open door.
“-So the first and really only culture to write about the Annunaki and the Nibiru event were the ancient Mesopotamians,” Ricky was explaining. “But there’s evidence of their presence among other cultures under different names. Which obviously there must be at least some truth to because Mystery’s Annunaki ancestors spent time in Japan, and according to our research the evil entity behind the curse, which is an Annunaki, was defeated and imprisoned in Ancient Egypt- oh!”
Ricky stopped mid-sentence and looked up when Mystery Incorporated stepped into the doorway. He and Cassidy had some of the notes the two groups had made yesterday spread out on the floor and the two of them had been laying on their stomachs side-by-side reviewing them. But the moment he saw their faces he sat up and his stomach dropped. 
They’d seen it. 
Daphne’s eyes were red and puffy, Fred could barely look at him at all, there was no mistaking the pity on Shaggy and Scooby’s faces, and Velma’s eyes were fixed on the floor. 
I knew it. 
They’d never go back to the way they’d been this morning. All the progress they’d made, and for what? How little they must think of him now. They must be so disgusted… 
Ricky could see the Mystery Skulls coming up behind the kids, and even though they hadn’t seen the footage, it was plain on their faces that they were worried. It was also clear even to poor Cassidy, who didn’t fully know what was going on, that something was up. Right as she was sitting up, looking between them, Ricky nervously cleared his throat and stood up abruptly. 
“So!” He said, as if ignoring the elephant in the room would somehow make it go away. “How did it go?” Ricky rubbed his hands together and started picking up the notes and books that they were done with, busying himself with stacking them and setting them on tables to quell his nervous energy. “I uh- heard from Lewis that you went to see Professor Hatecraft. I know he’s your friend. Must’ve uh- been nice to see him again. And you’ll have to tell me how it went with Daisy. I know Daphne wasn’t looking forward to it, but I really do apprecia- oof.” 
Right as Ricky was setting the first stack on the table, Velma suddenly marched forward, grabbed him by the shirt, turned him around, and hugged him tight around the middle. 
Ricky was so shocked by the gesture, much less from Velma, whom he’d wronged more than any of them, that for a stunned second he froze. Eyes wide, arms awkwardly held above her like he didn’t know what to do with them. Did he hug her back? Was he allowed? 
“Uhm… Velma…?” 
Then finally she whispered, “I’m so sorry…” 
Her bottom lip trembled, her shoulders tensed, the tiniest little whimper slipped out, and then she was crying. 
“Velma…” Feeling extremely awkward about it, Ricky brought his arms down, rubbing her back and gently patting her hair. And when she didn’t pull away he hugged her back. Then the rest of her friends were around him too - and Ricky didn’t have enough arms for them all. Shaggy’s head on his left shoulder, Daphne’s on his right, Scooby against his hip, and Fred’s cheek leaning on the crown of his head.
They’d never go back to the way they were this morning. And slowly, it dawned on Ricky that it wasn’t because they’d gone backwards. 
But any warmth that realization inspired was replaced by a cold dread. Because he could feel Cassidy’s eyes boring into his back and he was fresh out of excuses. 
Swallowing nervously, Ricky gently backed Velma off of him, and the other four took the cue to let go as well. “Aw, thanks guys. There there, Velma. It’s alright-” 
“No. It’s not,” she said. And now she sounded angry. “I-” she sniffed and dabbed her eyes under her glasses with the thick fabric at her turtleneck. “I cannot believe they did that to you!” 
“Reah!” Scooby agreed with a growl. 
“Like yeah. Friends like- friends don’t treat friends like that, man!” Shaggy exclaimed.
“Oh It went far beyond treating someone bad!” Velma said, so loudly it bordered on yelling. “It- it was assault! That’s what it was! I just- I can’t believe he- Oh god… Ricky, I- dammit, I know I already said it but I’m so sorry!” 
“She’s right,” Fred said. “What they did was- beyond anything I could ever imagine doing to one of my enemies, much less one of my friends. And I can’t believe my real parents-”
“Fred,” Ricky said, his brows coming together, “I don’t blame you. What they did- it wasn’t your fault.”
“Yeah. I know that,” Fred said, sounding every bit like someone who didn’t completely believe it. “But that doesn’t make it any less true.”
“And the way they talked to you!” Velma scoffed. 
“No kidding! If Pericles has got one thing going for him, it’s the audacity,” Daphne quipped, hands on her hips. 
“Reah! Rit’s not like you asked for anything unreasonable!” Scooby added. 
“Like yeah! He totally didn’t!” Shaggy agreed. 
“He asked for the bare minimum really,” Daphne said. 
“So- Are you okay, Ricky?” Fred asked. 
By now, Ricky’s head was ducked as far between his shoulders as it could, and he was positively red in the face with a mix of embarrassment and flattery… and a smile he couldn’t wipe off his face no matter what other emotions were clambering over each other for attention. Everything they were saying- even after seeing it. Even after presumably knowing everything. They weren’t disgusted or treating him like he was made of glass. And in spite of all the words of comfort and wisdom he’d gotten up until now, he’d never felt so validated before. 
But of course he couldn’t say all of that without embarrassing himself further. So all he said was, “M’ good. I’m- better than I thought I’d be, actually.” And he laughed when he said it, in spite of himself. “So uh- what exactly did you see? I mean I was under the impression that there was… a lot on that flashdrive. I mean did you watch all of it?” 
“Not even close,” Fred said. “We started at what I can only assume is the first time he hit you. And we got to the first time he- did it. Before we uh… sorry. We couldn’t bear to watch any more than that.”
“Couldn’t bear. To watch any more. Of what?” 
All six of them froze and had the same thought at once: Shit. 
They slowly turned around, and there she was. Brows furrowed, mouth set in a firm line, arms crossed, weight balanced on one hip. Looking positively murderous. Without daring to look away, feeling very much like they were facing a rabid animal, Fred gulped. “You didn’t tell her, did you?” He asked out of the corner of his mouth.
“Most of it, but then couldn’t get the important part out,” Ricky grumbled back. Also out of the corner of his mouth.
“Want us to help you out?” 
“No Fred, I’m afraid this is something I have to do myself. But thank you.”
Also not looking away from Cassidy, like she’d jump out and bite somebody at any moment, Velma pulled her laptop out of her bag, stuck the flashdrive in it, and passed it into Ricky’s arms. “All yours, E.” 
“Hoh-boy. Like, we believe in you man.” Shaggy laughed nervously. 
“Rud ruck,” Scooby said. 
“Ranks. I’m gonna need it,” Ricky gulped. And then they were backing away. Not leaving, but lurking just beyond the doorway to give them the space they needed (yet close enough to witness the drama unfold). The Mystery Skulls meanwhile, still respecting Ricky’s wishes and privacy, had made themselves scarce.
Ricky was glad the kids were sticking around, because if they left he would’ve been alone with quite possibly the scariest thing in the entire manor. Had she really been contently laying beside him while they talked just a few short minutes ago? Because now, it was as if the energy of the room itself had shifted.
“What happened to you?” She pleaded. Her voice wasn’t as hard as it had been a moment ago but there was a crack to it already, and she hadn’t even seen it yet. “Ricky. Baby. Please. Talk to me.” 
He took a deep breath and nodded. He set the laptop down on a desk between them and opened it right to where the kids had left off. With the screen paused on a scene he remembered all too well. His hands were shaking when he slid the timestamp back to the beginning. Then he looked up at her, still staring expectantly over the top of the screen. And he knew this whole day, waiting for bad news must’ve been torture for her. His mouth was dry and his heart was pounding in his ears. But he remembered the kids. He remembered how seeing it, knowing what had happened to him, hadn’t ruined anything between them. 
He hoped the same would be true with Cassidy. 
And he told her - he must have. But if anyone asked him what he said, he couldn’t tell you. Even as the words came, it was as if he blocked them out.
But not the look on her face. First anticipation. Then unease. And finally horror. And once he ran out of words and couldn’t bear to see her look at him that way anymore, he turned the laptop around and hit play. 
“He’s late,” he heard his own voice, his real voice, say. 
Then came Judy’s. “You know he shows up when he means to. I’m sure he’ll be here soon, don’t you think Brad?”
He couldn’t look at her as she watched the scene unfold. Try as he might to tune it out, those voices- that scene started playing in his head and the feelings started coming back in real time, as if he was back in the shoes of his past self all over again. Anxiety. Hope. Pride. Power. Then frustration. Anger. And as the video neared the inevitable tragedy, the feelings of his present self, knowing what was coming, seeped in. 
Fear. Fear that grew and swelled into abject terror. 
“-If you won’t listen to me,” his true voice said, and his mouth silently traced the words, having played this memory over in his head a hundred times before. Searching for some way it could have ended differently. “-Then you haven’t left me with much choice: Get out…”
Ricky turned around and all but stumbled out of the room. Wanting- needing to get away. He knew how this story ended, but he didn’t want to live it again. The kids made some move to stop him. But he played little heed to their voices and jerked away from the kind hands that reached for his shoulders. 
The sounds of his own screams chased him down the hallway as Ricky blindly fled his own memory.
༻˚⁺・⚉。○✼༓☾⦾♫෴♡💛♡෴♫⦾☽༓✼○。⚉・⁺˚༺
Cassidy didn’t know what she’d been expecting. 
But it wasn’t this. 
A torture button? Using what- mutated cobra llarvae? 
Who on God’s Green Earth other than Professor Pericles even thinks of that? 
After spending time with Ricky in someone else’s body for the past few hours, it was sort of jarring seeing him in his own skin again. Even in a video. But when Ricky of two weeks ago (according to the timestamp) started telling Pericles off, Cassidy sat back, looked up at Ricky, and laughed, impressed. 
The far-off look in his eyes and the tremble in his shoulders stole the smile from her face. She looked back at the screen. 
At some point, she became aware that he left. And she would have gone after him, but tunnel vision locked her legs in place and her eyes on the screen.
When Pericles pushed that button, when Ricky went rigid, then dropped to his knees, it hit Cassidy right in the heart. Then came the screaming. The begging. The pleading. And she froze. 
She had never heard Ricky scream like that. And she never wanted to hear it again.
And Brad and Judy were smirking at one another. Like a pair of naughty children who’d gotten a third into trouble. 
And Pericles was laughing. 
“I had wondered what sounds you would make,” the parrot sighed, chuckling to himself. “And of course, my sweet Ricky, you did not disappoint me.”
A cold fury seeped into Cassidy’s veins like venom. She had already hated Professor Pericles for far longer than the time she’d once considered him a friend. But at that moment, listening to him laugh and gloat over the sound of Ricky screaming- Angel Dynamite thought to herself for the very first time, I’m going to kill you. 
Pericles had finally stopped, but Ricky was still quietly sobbing, his body shaking with the aftershocks when Cassidy stopped the video, unable to watch any more.
There was a painful lump at the back of her throat that Cassidy couldn’t afford to let out. Her hands steepled against her lips, her elbows on her knees, and she closed her eyes and took deep breaths. She wanted to scream. Throw things. March out of this manor right now and put a damn bullet through that bird’s skull. But the kids were still lurking just outside - watching. And Arthur was in there- oh God, Arthur was in there! And above all, Ricky needed her. 
Ricky. She opened her eyes. And what did she see? With the video closed, she was faced with a long, long list of files. And it hit her, really hit her, that what she’d seen was only the tip of the iceberg. “Oh sweetheart…” She muttered.
Then one of the file names jumped out at her: “CASSIDY 🗣️🔴”
… What was her name doing there? 
For a moment, she was torn. She didn’t want to see any more of Ricky’s suffering. She wanted- needed to go after him. To see him, comfort him, hold him. Reassure herself that even if not in his own skin, she had him.
But that file. It was as if it was calling her. Cassidy. Cassidy!
She had to know. 
Cassidy opened the file and hit play.
Ricky was sitting alone in front of his monitors. With the glare, she couldn’t see what he was doing, but he was anxiously bouncing one leg. Brad and Judy appeared on the island behind him and he flinched, but said nothing, trying to ignore them. 
“You’ve been on the computer more and more.”
“He sure has, Brad! You’re not allowed on the internet, so what do you do in here for hours on end?” 
“There’s been no sign of her for weeks!” Ricky finally said.
“Who are you looking for?”
“Cassidy.” And the way he said it- even while trying to mask it, he sounded so worried. Earlier today came to mind. The look of shock, hope, anguish on his face when he’d seen her standing alive and well at the bottom of the staircase.
“Maybe she finally gave up,” Brad suggested smugly. 
“No! She would never give up! She’s gone!”
Again, this morning came to mind. Ricky, screaming those very words at the top of the stairs.
“Of course she’s gone,” Professor Pericles said, appearing onscreen. “Anyone who crosses me gets… eliminated.” 
If Cassidy had found the first video hard to watch, seeing Ricky’s heart shatter into a million pieces right in front of her was somehow worse. Again, she remembered this morning. The way he’d hugged her like his life depended on it- 
“You were informed she had been taken care of,” Pericles said dismissively. The Ricky on the screen was hyperventilating. Falling to his knees beneath the weight of his grief. His guilt.
She remembered Ricky sobbing into her shoulder, hardly able to get a word out between sobs. ‘I never stopped looking for you and then he told me- he-’
“Would you like to know how she died?” Pericles asked, as if he enjoyed the pain he caused. “If it is any consolation, my sweet Ricky, she likely did not suffer.” Cassidy stood up. She’d seen enough. But as she stepped around the computer she could still hear the audio. “-They say that drowning is one of the most peaceful ways to die. If the explosion didn’t kill her instantly.” 
Then she heard two words come out of Ricky’s mouth in such a frigid tone of voice it stopped her in her tracks. “Fuck you.”
“What?” Pericles said. And he sounded just as surprised as Cassidy. She slowly turned around. She never would have expected Ricky to talk to Pericles that way. But then- 
“FUCK YOU! You bastard! You were always jealous of her! All because you wanted me all to yourself, you just couldn’t let me have anyone else that I loved! And look at what you’ve done to us! Brad and Judy threw away their own son like garbage for that stupid treasure! Anyone with eyes can see what I’ve become! Cassidy was the only one of us who was strong enough to stay good in spite of that stupid curse - in spite of you! And YOU KILLED HER!” 
Then Pericles must have pulled out the button again. Because Ricky made that same horrible choked, strangled sound from the other video. Screaming on the inside, but unable to muster the breath to let it out. 
Cassidy slammed the laptop shut with a snap, unable to bear a second more. 
There was a beat- maybe two, of stunned silence. Then the music began. 
Dramatic violins overlaid with static - all too fitting for the tightness in her chest, the burning in her throat, and the wetness on her cheeks. Right as the deep thrum of the cellos and clarinets joined the orchestra, Cassidy took a deep breath, turned around, and walked out of the library with as much grace as she could. She barely glanced at Mystery Incorporated when she passed them. A few of them were crying, and a few of them had their hands clamped over their ears. The crash of the cymbals all too fitting for what they were feeling. Angel herself was holding her own emotions back by a thread and knew that if she stuck around a second longer, she was going to lose it right in front of them. 
She strode up to the nearest Dead Beat. And right as the striking beats were ending and the gentle thrum of the piano began, Cassidy looked up at it with angry, bloodshot eyes and asked it point blank, “Where is he?” 
The sad little ghost knew without being told who she was asking about. It pointed a nubby arm and went zipping down the corridor. Cassidy walked after it at first. 
So right now I can feel it, feel it overtaking me
Then she couldn’t stand it and walked faster. 
So right now, ooooh I can feel it overtaking me.
Then the moment she turned a corner and the kids couldn’t see her anymore, she was running. And when it sped up, she sprinted after it. 
'Cause there's, 'cause there's no one in this world that could treat me like 'Cause there's no one in this world that could take me back 'Cause there's no one in this world that could make it fit 'Cause there's no one in this world
Turn after turn, paintings, doors, and suits of armor flew by. Cassidy’s boots colliding with the carpeted hardwood floors echoed through the corridors. Where is he? Where is he?
Erase me Erase my mind again. Erase meeee~, ooooh~ Erase my mind again, love
When the Dead Beat led her into the foyer and went zipping up the stairs, Cassidy dashed after it. Where is he? Where is he?
Erase me Erase my mind again
Cassidy ran after the Dead Beat for what felt like an eternity, but really wasn’t very long at all. They found Ricky on the second floor, having been trying to retreat to the relative safety of his room before his own emotions got the better of him. He was kneeling on the floor leaning against the wall between two suits of armor, clearly facing the tail-end of a breakdown, his hands fisting his hair. She stopped when she saw him, breathless, shoulders sagging with relief. And then she was striding towards him. 
Erase me, oh
He turned around when he heard her coming. Red-faced and puffy-eyed he croaked, “Cassidy I-” 
Erase my mind again, love!
He was cut off just as the song came to an end, when she dropped to the floor at his side and flung her arms around him. He stiffened, surprised, but a moment later she felt him relax. Only then did Cassidy lean back and, gently yet firmly, she dragged his upper body into her lap and pressed her nose into his soft caramel colored hair. He stretched his legs and curled them in on the floor to get comfortable, and his arms came, gentle yet firm, around her waist. 
And she held him; So tight it probably wasn’t comfortable but he didn’t complain - just held her back. Leaning into it with a sigh when her fingers carded through his hair, then stayed there. Ricky had always loved having his hair touched. 
Cassidy’s shoulders shook. Her vision blurred. That lump in the back of her throat finally slipped out. And then for the first time in what seemed like forever, she was sobbing. 
He muttered her name, muffled with his face pressed into her chest, “Cassidy,” and his arms tightened around her. “M’ sorry…” 
“Don’t you-” she sniffed, “dare apologize- hic! It’s just- I… oh Sweetheart… Baby. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry…”  
“Yeah,” he said. “I know.” 
They laid there together for what seemed like the longest time. There was something unmistakably intimate about their position, and yet in spite of everything that had happened between them none of it seemed to matter. 
It did matter. That much should not be mistaken. And they would hopefully work through it. Or they wouldn’t. But that didn’t seem to matter much for the moment either. 
All that mattered was that, at least for the moment, he was safe. And he was with her. 
-Except he wasn’t.
Because no matter how much she kept telling herself that this was Ricky, and that was enough, her heart still longed for the rest of him. All of him. Complete and whole. In his own skin. As he should be. She missed his face. His voice. His dark brown eyes, even with the bags under them. His beard and thick, silky dark hair. She’d never gotten the chance to touch it, in the five years since she’d gotten to see him again. She remembered being surprised to see it so long, and had caught herself wondering how it would feel beneath her fingers. Or how the rest of him had changed for that matter. How would it feel to lean against him? Or to have his arms around her? Did he still have that scattered peppering of freckles across his back and shoulders? And how much could those constellations have shifted?
It scared her to think of Ricky, even part of him, still in the clutches of someone who only wanted to hurt him. And it horrified her to know that Arthur was in his place. Oh God, Arthur! He was such a sweet guy- a good person. He was the grounding member of the Mystery Skulls, who’d been the best at easing her into… all of it. And he’d never been anything but kind to her. Even going as far as to let her stay in his room while she stayed in Tempo recuperating with his uncle. And now he was in that Hell too. And now? If he really did get himself- get Ricky out of this mess, she didn’t know how she’d ever repay him. 
Pericles came to mind again. Looking so proud of himself for what he’d done to the one person who’d stuck by his side the longest. And she didn’t even want to imagine him doing to Arthur what he’d done to Ricky. Anger set her heart ablaze and that thought came again, with even more conviction than the first time: I’m going to kill you. 
Suddenly the walls began to scream. Cassidy and Ricky both jumped and scrambled out of their embrace, searching for the source but there was none! The sound was all-encompassing, as if it was coming from everywhere! But then they realized- 
Cassidy’s blood ran cold. She knew that scream. And when she looked over at Ricky, she knew he recognized it too. 
Because it sounded like him. The real him. Shouting in agony, and begging for it to stop.
In an instant, Cassidy was on her feet and dragging Ricky to his as well. “Come on Ricky!” She said to him, but he was having a freeze response. Staring straight ahead, straight through her. “Ricky! Ricky, look at me!” Cassidy shouted above the din, shaking him slightly, and finally his eyes focused on her face. “We have to find the Mystery Skulls! Come on!” And then she was dragging him down the hall with her as fast as she could. Within a few moments, he was snapped out of it and running after her. 
༻˚⁺・⚉。○✼༓☾⦾♫෴♡💔♡෴♫⦾☽༓✼○。⚉・⁺˚༺
The paintings they passed along the way were either laughing or cowering in the corners of their frames. And as they ran the screaming got louder, and then the music began. 
Erase me, just like before. But the house had never played the same song twice in a row, and this time the music was different. Corrupted. Jagged, almost. Like playing a scratched CD. Around the time the cursed cellos started, the walls began to shake. 
When they ran into a swarm of Dead Beats, it became even clearer that something was very wrong. They were ignored when they tried to get the ghosts’ attention and hissed at when they tried to reach out. They were glowing more brightly than they’d ever seen them before and they were shrieking, pulsing, swelling and shrinking in size as they howled and scrambled along the walls like lizards, leaving claw marks in their wake. And they were all heading in the same direction. And as terrifying as it was, they followed. 
They arrived right when the piano made its entrance in the song, at the same time as Mystery Incorporated, who had followed the Dead Beats from elsewhere. And they found the Mystery Skulls in what was- should have been an art gallery. The Dead Beats were swirling around the walls in that same panicked frenzy, not knowing where to go or what to do and in the middle of it were Mystery, Vivi, and Lewis. Huddled together staring at the paintings in utter horror. 
Ricky, the fastest of them with Shaggy’s body, got there first. “Mystery! Vivi!” He shouted at them above the cacophony. “What’s-” Then he saw what they were looking at, and he let out a gasp of absolute mortification. 
S̷o̷ ̷r̷i̷g̸h̴t̸ ̵n̵o̸w̷
He was in every picture frame. Convulsing on the floor in agony back at Destroido. It was as if the contents of the flashdrive had been hung up on every frame! Except- wait. 
I don’t recognize that scene. I never would’ve gone anywhere without my coat. And why do I have a bottle of wine - oh dear God. 
S̵o̵ ̵r̷i̵g̷h̴t̶ ̵n̷o̶w̸,̵ ̸o̴o̷o̴o̴h̵ ̶ ̷I̶ ̷c̶a̴n̸ ̵f̸e̶e̷l̷ ̵i̴t̵ ̵o̶v̷e̸r̸t̷a̸k̷i̷n̶g̸ ̵m̶e̸.̶
THAT’S ARTHUR! 
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At once he rushed to their side, dodging Dead Beats as they flew by his head. “Guys! It’s okay! Everything’s gonna be alright! Don’t look at that! Look at me!” Ricky shouted above the din. 
C̶̮̓a̷͓͐u̶̗̚s̸̥̕e̴͈̊ ̷̞̕t̶̰̒h̷͖̿é̴͓r̴̘̊e̶̘͌'̷͈̽s̴̜̔ ̷̣̉n̴͈͑ó̵͖ ̸̞̓ŏ̸̹n̶̥̓é̴̯ ̷̍ͅȋ̵͔n̷͖̂ ̷̝͝t̸̮̕h̴̳͂ȉ̸̧š̸̤ ̴̫̋w̷̞̚ọ̷̅r̸̤͝ḽ̶̀d̶̪̉ ̶̦̿t̸̺̿h̵̯̉a̷͎͒t̷͊ͅ ̸̞̈́c̵̥̽o̶̯̚u̸͈͒l̴̟͊d̷̼̆ ̷̗̿t̷̙̒r̷̗̒e̶̯̅à̴̼t̵̙́ ̵̗̈m̸͚̐ē̸͉ ̸̟̍l̶̖͝i̴̻̎k̷̬͠e̵̟̓
When the others saw what he was doing they rushed to join in. “Come on, Mystery! Snap out of it! Do something!” Ricky shouted. But the kitsune was so big and utterly frozen with horror that no amount of shaking or shoving against the creature, even with Fred and Scooby helping, could rouse him. 
C̶̨͎͆͒a̷͇̖̽̒u̷̘̲̚ś̷͓ȩ̴̋̎ ̵̹̀̃t̶̢̹̿́h̴̔͜e̷̬̐̀r̶̲̙̔̾ȅ̵̖́'̸̘͕̌s̴̖̩̄ ̷̻̗̋n̸̬̾͝ô̷͈͜͝ ̵̖͈̅̕ō̴̗ņ̴̇̏ẽ̵͖̟ ̴͖͑͐į̴̒̒n̸͙̊ ̸͙͈̅̊ẗ̸̖́̓ḩ̶̎͘í̸̲̜s̷̛̤ ̸̥͑̕w̴͓̄͝ơ̷̩r̵̟̅l̴̝͘̕d̸̠̐ ̵̣̦̚t̴̠̔h̷̞͛͜ả̸̳̖͝t̴̚͜ ̷̹̫͆̚c̶͉̈o̴̧͔͆͒ṵ̵̳̃l̶̪̘̀͝d̷̦̃͐ ̸̻͛t̷̼́ạ̸̡̾͘k̶̮̈e̶̲̜̋͐ ̷͚̉m̶͓̔́e̸͖̳͌̄ ̴̪̍b̴̞̗̀a̸̧͇͂̑c̴͕̆͒k̷̠͍̇͠
Desperate, Ricky looked over at Vivi but she was absolutely inconsolable. Cassidy, Velma, and Daphne were shaking her, blocking her view of the moving pictures with their bodies, to no avail. She was hugging herself, trembling, looking straight ahead with loud, ugly, gasping sobs bursting out of her. 
C̵̳̫̪̍̕̕ä̵̞̲̚ų̸̂͋ͅș̶̡̘̔̌ę̴̺͊͂ͅ ̴̡͚͕̋̄t̵̺̹̯́h̸̡̺̐̍̀e̴̥͊͆r̴͈̽̐͜ë̵̹̭́'̷̛̗̖̱s̷͙̖̒ ̵̜̳̥̂̕n̵̰̣͒͠ö̷̜̣͑̔ ̸̥̮͆̏͝ȭ̷̬̦̠n̷̺̰̟͗̏e̷͉͂ͅͅ ̴̨̯̜̓͑͝i̵̳̟͐̕n̶̖̈͋ ̸̞̏́t̵̝͑ḩ̵̬͔͗̀ì̵͍͕͗s̴͈͕̑ ̸̛̤̪̄̇w̵͎̺̚o̸̼̰̊̌̕r̶͓̳̂̃͆ĺ̵͖d̸̲̮̬͗̍̽ ̵͈̿̇̀t̴̟̱̥̅͌h̵̫̞̰͗̇a̴͍͒ṱ̴̋͊ ̵̞͎̪̑̎̓ċ̷͈̖͍̋̀o̷͇͇̖͗̽͠ư̶̙͓̐͐ͅl̷̢̦͋̕͘ͅď̸̹̜̦͝ ̵͍͈̉̌̈m̶̮̏a̵̛̜͉̔̇k̶͍̳͉͒̊e̷̻̠͔̊̂̒ ̵̧̮̫̉ì̷̤̰̈́̍ț̵́ ̸͉͝f̷̛̜̰̦i̷͍͍̒͊t̴͚͎̃͌͝
And that left Lewis. The Master of the House was in his ghostly form, staring wide-eyed at his friend in pain with ugly black tears, like ink, dripping from his eye sockets. 
C̴̛̰͈̲̻̽͆͆ą̶̛̠̘̘͉̭́̔̀̀ų̸̮͍͎͉̋́̌͘ͅs̵͙̒͐̐̒̏e̴̢̼̯̰̔̓̓ ̸̡̡̗̦̐ͅṯ̷̨͍̹͇͆͐͘̕h̶̤̋̃̈́̊e̶̲̫͖̒̚̚r̴̨͔̤̩͓̦̂̿̽͌ḙ̶͙̜́͑̀̐̿̓͜'̸̪̳͗̐͑̚s̴̜̫̾̐͘̕͝ ̶̧̈́̑͌͝n̶̛̖͔o̵̧͉̗̮̞̱̓̋̅͌͛̕ ̸͔̊͑̓̚͘͜o̵̬͙̦̎͝n̸̬̲͍̝̄̒͛͒͘é̴̬̹͔͉̗̝̌͛̿͌̎ ̵̨͍͎̞̈́̍̋̃ḭ̸̃̓n̶̡͙̬͈̞̼̈́ ̶̠̩̩̭̟́́̇ẗ̶̢̘̫̬̝̲́h̸̲̙̭̮̙͂̈́ì̵̫̩̲͇̟́s̴̨̒̀̾͂͘ ̸͉́̀̀͗̍̽ẃ̷̤̘ǫ̵̛̪͈̹̤̏̎̚r̶̗͈̦̞̃͘͝ĺ̵̝d̸͕̋
“Lewis! Like come on man!” Shaggy was shouting. 
Ë̶̢̦̪̺͍̥͉́̓r̸̜̫̮̝̟̲̓͐̏̚a̷̡̫̗̬͕̱̹̎͝s̵̢̙͙̦͂̓̃̌e̸̯̰͈͙͓͆̐̍͆̽̎̿ ̵̢̞̩͓̑͋̔̕̚m̴̼͓͚̭̫̓̾̀̽̃̒ȩ̵̜̀͌͗̕
“Like dude! You’re the master of the house! You gotta stop this man! Like snap out of it!” And in desperation, Shaggy slapped Lewis across the face so hard that his skull spun around like a top for a moment before the ghost slapped both sides of his face and turned his head around the right way. Dazed, but finally alert!
É̸̛̛̥͇̤͛̋̔r̶̠̯̹̠̹̈̈́͒̀a̶͉̣̝̣̝̾̂̐̊̚s̸̡̫̑̕ȇ̸̡̖̩́́ ̶̡͎͎̟̾̄̎͒̐́͜m̶̨͓̱͂̓͜y̸̹͍̐̈́̈ͅ ̶̣͉̃̂͗m̷̮̣̲̼͓̲͂̅̃̉̉͘̕ĭ̶̧͈̙͐̃̌̏̂̕ń̸͖̗̩̲͒̓̓̎͝d̵͇̠͂͆̃͛̚̕͠ ̴̢͊̊̏å̴̡̧͔̣̩̣̟ǵ̴̻̌̒̎̿̈̀ą̸̯̦̩̼͇̠͠ḭ̷́̌̇͛͗͊͠n̷̥̏́͌͘͠.̶̢͉̱̦̼̬͔̋̔͑̈́̎̽̓ ̶̡̟͕̠̓͐̒̽̋̈͠E̷̻̫̭̼͕̓̄r̶̮͍̅̑̿͐a̴̱͙̟͌͆s̶̹͖̙̖̭͘é̶̢̱̭̬͕̽͌͠͠ ̷̘͘͠m̶̱͖̔͒e̷̝̣͔̾̎̅̌̑͝ĕ̷͙͈̔̓̎͜ě̸̛͇̩̣͔̣̓͝͝ͅe̷̢͓̬̤͔̳͗̎͋̍͊̒~̶̹̩̻̬̊̿̈́̄,̴͓̏̃̒̉̑ ̷̣̯̱̦͌͗̍́̕͝ơ̴̢̟̐͠o̸̢̱̫̞̼͇̣͆̌̿͆ỏ̵͇̖͇͊ö̷̪̰̠̫̟̆̂h̷͇̱͎̰͇̥͒̂͛̓̆͝͠~̷̞͔̝͝
His eyes finally focused on Shaggy, then his gaze darted to Vivi and Mystery. Flames dancing across his shoulders, the ghost looked back at the paintings with fury. 
E̸͔̗̪̣͚̤̗͎̘̯͍̣̿̓̓̒̕͜r̸̡̧̬̙̮̝̖̜̖͎̟͓̒̃̔a̷̧͚̭͓̭̻̎̔͆̿́̓̑̋̌͝͝s̴͍̹̯͔͓̙̮̹̓̈́͋̏̂̒͒̓͐͐e̸̝͓̼͑̏̃̾́̌̚ ̴̨͎̗̫̲̜͚͎̯̗̑̏̔̈́̃͑̃̓m̶̨͍̬͉̗̩̺̣͈̼̟̩̿̎̊̊̊ẙ̷̢̧̧̹̞͍̘͎̗͕̤̈̌͗̿̒̒͌ ̸̡͈̺̘͕̱̪̠͉̫͈͚̙̈́͂̔̈̿͛͌̐̉́͌̀́m̸̛̮̞̄i̴̧͕̥͈̠͍̯̘̠̟͈͎̤͎̓͒ǹ̸͍̟̗͐̅͑̿ͅḑ̷̧̧͙̠̠̗̹̥̪̙̇ ̴̭͈́̄̓ą̶̡͇̣̳̖̻̮͉̼̦̲͎͉̳̬͐̔̿͗̂́̈͛̕͠g̸̻̬̙̟̟̦̼͖͇͎̮̑̔̍̑̐̿̎̉͌̾̇̈́ä̶̭͍̺́̊̍͋̋̌͑̆͋̔̾̃͌͝͝į̸̯̦̗͎̜̹̹͖̜̱͍̞̻͈͛̾̆͗̈́̈́̈̇͂͒̈̿̌͠͝͠n̷̢̰̹̭̗̹͙̤̬͕̳̼̺̮̺̂̾͆̇͆ͅͅ,̸̧̧̼̖̞̘͕̤̯̞̗̫̫̑́͐̈́́́̀̔̈̕̕͠͝ ̶̧̡̝͔͎̺͕̱̙͈͙̙̼͖̝̀̉l̷͉̬̩̥̍͌͋͘͝͝ơ̸̢̞̜̰͓͉͇͕͛͊́͊́̆̍̋̾̍̿̀͘ͅv̴̟̬̜͓̟̲̩̜̠̘̤̼̼̘̊̊̆̊e̶̡̨͙̰̘͎͈̝͉̦͕̱͍̾
“ENOUGH!”
There was an explosion of blinding pink light!
And just as suddenly as the screaming had started, it was quiet. The music was off. The screaming stopped. The Dead Beats vanished into corners and crevices unseen. The only sound was Vivi’s crying.
Mystery Incorporated, Ricky, and Cassidy slowly sat up from where they’d hit the deck, looking around partially surprised they hadn’t been torched by the pink fire. And yet none of them were burned and nothing was touched. The torches had been blown out, and the only light came from the cloudy sky outside the large window. Other than that the room was back to just how it should be, with macabre paintings of supernatural creatures and statues of the dead. And in the middle of it all, just as they had been, were the Mystery Skulls. 
Vivi’s legs shook, then gave out under her as she sobbed. “Ar-Ar-Arthur! Artie….” 
Lewis still looked absolutely stricken, that black fluid still leaking from his eye holes like tar. He made some move towards his girlfriend, “Vivi-” but he stopped, looking torn, and finally his eyes settled on Ricky. “ I’m sorry. I- it was an accident we- I- we didn’t mean to-... I’m sorry. I have to go!” And then in a flash of pink fire, he was gone. 
And then there was Mystery. Once the images stopped, the kitsune was finally shocked out of his stupor and his gaze dropped to the floor. Large, fat tears dripping silently down his snout. 
 There was a sort of tension in the air, like the calm before the storm. Did the others feel it too? Either way, Daphne was the first to move. She dropped beside Vivi and pulled her into a hug, trying to comfort her, and Velma and Scooby joined in to do the same. Cassidy, Fred and Shaggy stood up as if they didn’t know what to do, and when Ricky stood up, something told him to be very, very careful.
“Mystery?” 
“Ricky!” Cassidy hissed at him quietly, and when Ricky looked over at her he could see it on her face: she felt it too. 
But he’s my friend, Ricky thought. And he remembered how Mystery had comforted him more times than he cared to recount. So he continued on anyway. With careful, deliberate footsteps towards the creature. “Um- are you-” 
“He trusted you.” 
That voice. Inhuman. Part growl, part hiss. The only time Ricky had heard anything remotely like it was when Mystery had lost his temper back in the conservatory. But this was different. It was so loud, so deep, so powerful that it froze Ricky dead in his tracks, reverberated deep in his chest, made his skin break out into gooseflesh. And when Mystery turned, a new set of crimson markings were on his face and the only thing in his glowing red eyes was pain and rage. Rage that raised his hackles and bared his fangs. Rage that sent pale mist rising from his shoulders and made his snowy coat glow like a silver flame. And Ricky realized then that he, in fact, had never seen Mystery lose his temper.
“Mark TRUSTED YOU with his BOY…” 
Ricky’s heart seized for an entirely different reason. Mark? Mark Owens? Dad?!
But that train of thought ended when Mystery snarled, 
“And now you DARE HARM MINE?!” 
That was when Ricky realized he was growing. Seven tails lashed menacingly behind him as the kitsune swelled in size until he positively towered over them, almost incorporeal. Glowing, as if his body was made of smoke while curses rumbled out of him in Japanese, in English, in tongues that had never been spoken by man! Until finally Mystery raised his head to the ceiling and everyone’s hands snapped over their ears when he let loose a bellow that shook the house to its very foundations! Then as swift and smooth as the wind itself, the kitsune leapt over their heads and out the window with a howl and the piercing scream of shattering glass. 
Ricky’s last glimpse of Mystery as he rushed to the window after him was a white blur vanishing into the dark mass of jagged branches surrounding the manor. And he was gone. 
For a few beats of stunned silence, the only sound was Ricky’s heart pounding in his ears and the soft rumble of thunder overhead. Then right as the first raindrops were starting to fall from the dark sky above, Ricky shakily turned around. To Vivi, still sobbing on the floor. And to the others: Cassidy, Fred, Velma, Daphne, Shaggy, and Scooby. All staring out the broken window with the same question written on their faces: what do we do now?
༻˚⁺・⚉。○✼༓☾⦾♫෴♡💔♡෴♫⦾☽༓✼○。⚉・⁺˚༺
Thunder boomed overhead as the storm rolled in and began to unleash its fury upon the land below. Soon the rain began to fall in sheets, hiding the Earth in a gray haze of falling raindrops. But even still, as he ran the trails beneath Mystery’s paws were familiar. Smells and shapes, similar yet changed, that he’d seen a thousand times before flew by as he squinted through the rain. Leaping over roots, stones, and creeks. The forest whispered to him like an old friend welcoming him home, but Mystery was too far gone for niceties. Breathless and furious. 
How could you? How could you? How could you?!
He trusted you. He trusted you. He trusted you! 
With a roar, Mystery burst out of the treeline and was met with a familiar hillside. The familiar sound of waves crashing against the rocks. A familiar church silhouetted black against the sky as lightning cracked across the heavens behind it. 
But the god this temple had been built for had long-since forsaken it, and a demon had taken its place. 
Mystery’s ears laid flat against his skull as he let loose another otherworldly shriek and took off across the grass. So fast his paws seldom touched the ground. The same ground where all those years ago he’d sniffed and searched until he knew every blade of grass, and still he’d found nothing!
When he reached the top of the hill, the Old Spanish Church towering above him, Mystery exploded through the double doors and screamed, “YOU!” 
But another crack of lightning was his only reply. 
“You VILLAIN! You COWARD! Did his screams delight you?!” The kitsune roared into the storm as he paced across an empty floor, looking around at shattered stained glass windows and fallen arches.
“I thought I’d won when I denied you the blood of my children, but I see now that I gave you what you wanted! My old nemesis! Have you enjoyed these twenty years of free reign? Drawing power from the pain you’ve caused? DID YOU THINK THIS DAY WOULD NEVER COME?! Well hear me now you disgraced, twisted, FALLEN GOD! My vow was no bluff!” He hissed and spat, and though he received no answer, he knew that it could hear his every word. 
“This has all happened before, but OUR story won’t end the way you want it to!” Mystery swore, as lightning split the sky and the wind clawed at his fur. “I’ve taken back Jasmine’s daughter and Mark’s son,” he hissed, chuckling darkly. “By your enemy’s blessing, I have your newest opponents at my side. You tried to kill my children when they were small, but now they’re grown and they are strong, strong, STRONG. Ready to fight you just as their predecessors did five hundred years ago, a hundred years ago, twenty years ago! But you won’t survive it this time. I’ve brought them back just as I promised I would.”
A mad grin split across Mystery’s face as he roared into the storm. 
“-AND WE’RE GOING TO KILL YOU!”
Well that was intense. Not gonna lie - this chapter wasn't an easy one to write for that very reason. Ain't NOBODY having a good time right now. 🙁 (But I had so much fun with the formatting and fanart for this chapter for that very reason. 😜) Seriously I put my whole soul into the fanart for this chapter, and I'm so proud of how it came out!!! Good thing too, because I had two other pieces planned for this chapter but uh... they didn't work out. 😅 I have part of a plan for chapter 27 and a whole-ass plan for chapter 28. But plans can always change and no promises as to when either of those will be completed OR posted. Because yay me - I just started college classes again. (And that's not a complaint. Actually I'm having a great time.) So to say the least, I'mma be a busy bish. Please let me know what you thought of the chapter and art!
And of course! Here's the tag list for all the beautiful people who wanted to be notified when each chapter is up. If you want to be added or removed from this list, then feel free to DM and let me know!
@void-lioness @nikicherry1234 @angorwhosebabyisthis @lunasummers04 @orithereticent @mysteryskullsblog @the-moogle-of-your-nightmares @sfcabanasstarcgs
Chapters 1-25 of 'One of Us' are presently posted on Archive of Our Own!
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live-laugh-lenney · 7 months
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a part two to this arthur blurb was asked for... and i've delivered... i hope so, anyway. let me know what you think! absolutely in my feels and pumping these out like there is no tomorrow so if you wanted to send in anything that we can discuss and chat about then feel free! i'm just gonna melt away in my arthur feels right now.
a knock on her door startles her.
the towel that was scrunched in her hand was thrown onto her bed, her clean clothes were laid out on her vanity unit and ready for when she came out from her bath, candles already lit and flickering in the corners of her bathtub and emitting smells of berries around the room. a chosen bath bomb sitting and waiting to be used - which would only have to wait a little longer until she got rid of whoever was at the door.
her guess was that it was chris on the other side.
with some sort of apology wracking his brain that he stumbles over when he comes face to face with her after she opened the door. his tongue fumbling the words with profanities leaving his mouth as he tried to form a sentence. because he didn't know his boundaries, at times, and he really didn't want to upset her or make her feel at all uncomfortable in certain situations.
or george.
who would simply pop by to check on her and to make sure that she wasn't actually upset. to inform her that they really weren't being mean or anything, they were just teasing and that they soon realised it was a sensitive subject once she'd left.
but it was neither.
it was arthur.
still looking sleepy with his eyes looking heavy, still dressed in the clothes he'd chosen to take a nap in - a oversized, black jumper and black football shorts, white socks pulled over his ankles and a pair of trainers on his feet which she'd seen before she left his flat - and he had a concerned look on his face that she couldn't tear her eyes from.
"hello, sleepyhead."
"you left," he frowns and she moves aside to let him into her flat; and, really, there was no different in how their flats were laid out. she still had the extra rooms which she managed to convert, with the help of the boys, into different rooms - a small studio, for her to practice her yoga and her at-home workouts in, and a home office for her to work in - and she still had the same looking open-plan floor that arthur was used to in his own home. "are you okay?"
"i'm fine, i was just messing with the boys," she informs him and he gives her a confused look as she closes the door behind him, "i came home for a bath, to be honest. they just gave me ammo to leave in a dramatic fashion."
"oh," he nods softly and, in his mind, he felt stupid. of course the boys would never say anything that would truly upset her... and if they did then she would have blown up in the middle of their flat instead of walking away, "well, now i feel silly."
"don't be," she smiles softly and his lips curl into a gentle smile, his cheeks pink and his eyes crinkling at the corners, "i was coming back tonight anyway. there's a new film on amazon prime that i wanted to make you lot watch."
she watches as he takes refuge on the arm-chair of her living room, kicking off of his trainers and sticking his feet up on her coffee table, ankles crossing. and he really makes himself at home, grabbing her tv remote and turning on her television, cosying down on the cushions as she saunters into her kitchen.
"do you want a drink?"
"if you have a beer, i'll take one," he looks over his shoulder and up and over the back of the arm-chair and she rummages through her fridge because she knows she had one can of moretti left over from their last gathering round her flat, "if not, i'll just take a wat-"
he's interrupted by the sound of the can hissing open and he grins.
"i'll just stay here until you're finished, if you want? we can go back to the flat together," he suggests and she blushes at the offer; and that would just really please george and chris, and she could hear every single sentence of the relentless teasing they would give to the two of them once they see them arrive together, "only if you want to? i can always give it five minutes and then head-"
"no, it's okay," she smiles and passes the can of beer over to him, "i'll just take a shower instead. baths tends to last until the water goes cold."
she walks back over to her bedroom, feeling his eyes lingering on her back as she walks away from him, her feet coming to a halt in her doorway.
"arthur?"
"yeah?"
"do you- uhm," she gulps thickly and she can feel nerves bubbling in her stomach as she turns around and she didn't want to dig herself into a hole that she couldn't climb out of and she didn't want to ruin something that they had going for them; a good friendship where she felt the happiest, "i, uhm, i think-"
"jeez, i thought i had a bad stutter," he laughs softly and she rolls her eyes in his direction, "you can talk to me without feeling nervous, you know?"
"do you, maybe, uhm- do you want to go and grab dinner sometime this week?"
his eyes widen and he almost chokes on the sip of beer he took from the can, leaning forward to place it on a coaster on her coffee table before coughing into his hand and clearing his throat. her own eyes widening because, for god sake, why did she say it to openly? with a nervous stutter? she should have just left it. carried on as if she had no sort of feelings towards him because he clearly didn't feel similar feelings towards her.
"you beat me to it," he murmurs softly, rubbing the back of his neck nervously, "i was going to ask you."
"you were?"
he nods and she tries to stifle the grin that wants to burst open on her lips but she fails, teeth bearing and her cheeks stretching and she really can't contain the happiness she felt knowing that the feelings she felt towards him were reciprocated.
"well, i was going to text you and ask because asking you to your face was making me nervous but- yeah, i was going to ask you on a date," he slowly stands to his feet and she feels giddy as he makes his way over to her, a bob in each step that he took closer to her, "i've had chris in my ear for the last week telling me how i should just man-up and ask you out."
"oh, god. he brought it up with me earlier," she laughs softly and he stops in front of her, toe to toe, "i gave him the dramatics and walked out, that's why i left. no point denying it so i just never said anything."
she felt his fingertips brush over her hands and she welcomed his hands into hers, holding them tightly and squeezing them softly, feeling how soft and gentle the pads of his fingers were. how soft the entirety of his hands were. smooth and gentle, not a callous in sight.
"he's persistent. he's got george going on it, too," she adds, "but hey. he's my best friend. he's your best friend. i guess that's what they do."
"i guess without it, without them, i'd probably be back in my own flat and not standing right here, right now," he says softly and she's sure - no, she's 100% certain - that he's slowly leaning in a little closer with each passing second, "with you."
"they're never gonna live this down, are they?"
arthur shook his head and it was only in that moment did he realise just how much of a height advantage he had upon her. her whole stature coming to just below his neckline and he felt like a giant in front of her. but she didn't mind; heck, if she was being honest, the extra few inches he had on her made him all the more attractive.
"they'll absolutely bathe in the glory of thinking they set us up," he states and it's only a matter of seconds before he drops his forehead onto hers, "we know otherwise but we can let them think what they wish. if it makes them happy."
his warm breath washes over her face and it really takes everything within her to resist the urge of completely wrapping him up in her arms and delving into the deepest, most passionate kiss she could muster up to let him know just how much she wanted it to happen.
"i can't be annoyed with him though. knowing him got me knowing you," she whispers softly and his hands drop hers so he could cup her cheeks in the palms of his hands, "that is one he can have."
his thumbs rub over the tops of her cheeks, just below her eyes, and she wants to melt under his gentle touch.
"so, dinner?"
"you choose, surprise me," she grins and she pulls away from him, turning around and entering her bedroom, "give me fifteen minutes and i'll be ready. then we can go and deal with the two of them."
"how about we just, not tell them?"
"what? and carry on denying everything?" she wonders and he gives his shoulders a shrug, "i just want them to know, arthur."
"we can tell them, just- we can tell them after our date?"
she grabs her towel and walks into her bathroom, hanging it on the hook behind her door, blowing out the candles that were already lit and burning at the wick. she heard her bed springs creak under his weight and as she closed the door, she couldn't help but let out all of the giddiness that she had been feeling. pumping the air with her fist and using her other hand to cover her mouth as she whispers soft 'oh my god's out in the open.
that bath bomb was going to have to wait even longer now.
if you read this far then let me know what you think! thank you! xx
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vi1223 · 3 months
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Stephanie Brown ran as quickly as her legs could take her, refusing to look back at the scene behind her.
The moment she heard her father's heavy boots staggering up the stairs, her whole body froze. She squeezed the 2B pencil in her hand tightly, as she heard him fumbling with his keys.
"Godammit, Sharon! Where are my fucking keys?"
Stephanie turned towards her mother, pupils blown wide in fear, desperately shaking her head with a silent plea. Her mother, with her frazzled hair and bags under her eyes, gave her a small smile that did nothing to reassure her. She watched as her mother patted her apron and approached the door, a forced smile spreading across her face.
"I'm coming dear...."
The moment the door swung open, Arthur Brown burst into the room, a bottle in hand. The smell of burgundy wafted into the room, nauseating her nose. He was fuming, at what Stephanie wasn't sure but she bit her lip and kept as quiet as she could, praying he wouldn't notice her. His eyes swept across the room and landed on her.
"Well, kid? Show some manners, will ya?
She plastered on a big smile.
"Wel....Welcome home, daddy....."
He staggered forward, a hand reaching out towards her. She flinched away from his touch, expecting the worst, when a large hand clamped down on her head. He mused her hair with a chuckle.
"Good girl...."
He patted her head like a dog as he took another swig of his beer before staggering away. Stephanie made a quick sigh of relief. He whipped and chugged the bottle as he lunged towards the sofa.
"What's for dinner, woman?"
Stephanie watched as her mother fiddled with her apron nervously.
"The chicken's in the oven and I'm making mash pota...."
A piercing sound of glass shattering filled the room. Stephanie jumped out of her chair in shock as her father suddenly jump up from the couch, smashing his glass bottle against the wall. Glass shards and alcohol littered the walls and floor of their little two room apartment.
"Chicken? Chicken? I asked for roast beef?"
Arthur Brown rose to his full height, towering over his wife and waving the smashed glass bottle like a bat. The woman leaned against the wall, cowering in fear as the man shouted strings of profanities and curses at her.
Stephanie had seen enough, she dashed out of the room and ran as fast as her little legs could take her. She cowered under her bed in fear and reached for the landline.
She quickly dialled "911" as she covered her ears.
"Pick up.... pick up.... please somebody....."
"Thank you for calling 911, how can I help you?"
She let out a deep breath.
"Yes, hi... um, I need help...."
"Hi, sweetie. What's your name?"
"I'm Stephanie Brown....."
"Hi, Stephanie, how can I help you?"
"Um...."
Stephanie didn't know what to say. She was about to response when a loud crash could be heard from the next room. Stephanie flinched.
"Stephanie honey, what was that?"
"That... That's my dad.... He's drunk...."
"He's drunk... ok sweetie, I need you tell me where are you?"
Furious typing could be heard from the other line.
"I'm in my room. Under my bed...."
"You're under your bed? Ok good.... Can you give me your address?"
"Um....I dunno....it's a small apartment."
"That's alright sweetie, the GCPD are on their way. Do you think you could give me a description of your building or apartment?"
Stephanie gave the description to the best of her ability but suddenly her father burst into her room.
"Where are you, little brat?"
Stephanie hiccuped in fear. Arthur noticed and dragged her out from under the bed. He noticed the phone in her hand.
"Who are you talking to? That better not be the cops!"
He quickly snatched the phone out of her hand and crushed it with his foot. Stephanie gasped in shock. He sneered at her as he left the room.
"You better clean this up, woman! That stupid brat called the coppers!"
Stephanie peaked out of her room to see her mother frantically sweep up the glass and mop the floor, wiping her puffy red eyes with her apron.
Moments later, the GCPD showed up. Arthur Brown opened the door with a wide smile. He had sobered up a little and had even managed to groom himself.
"Officers, what's the issue?"
The GCPD looked at him unimpressed.
"Somebody called for domestic violence?"
Arthur made a big show of acting unimpressed.
"That's just my daughter. She loves making prank calls."
"We need to have a look around the house."
Arthur shrugged.
"Be my guest. I was just having a little drink after work, you know to unwind. And my wife was watching some cheesy romcom...."
Stephanie frowned, she forgot how convincing a liar her father could be, even half drunk. He was a performer after all.
The cops looked around the room. There was nothing except a couple of bottles of beer and a sniffling woman watching a romcom.
"Alright, but we still need to talk the girl who made the call."
"Of course, Stephanie...."
Steph stumbled into the room. One of the cops knelt to her eye level.
"We need to have a little chat about your call, is that alright?"
Stephanie nodded as she followed the men out.
"Why did you call the police?"
Stephanie bit her lip, unsure of what to say.
"You can't just call the police anytime you like. Your parents obviously loves you, you don't want them to go to jail right?"
Stephanie shook her head unsure of what to say. The officer patted her head.
"Alright, be a good kid."
With that, they left. Stephanie sighed, in exhaustion. She headed back inside and noticed her mum hiding in the kitchen. She peeked in curious. In her hand, she held a tiny ziplocked packet of white powder. Stephanie gasped.
"Mum?"
She bursted out in shock.
The woman turned around to face the girl, quickly hiding the packet in her pocket.
"Mum, is that...?"
"That's nothing for you to be concerned about.... Go finish your homework, alright?"
She stroked Stephanie's head before heading into the master bedroom. Stephanie sighed as she trudged back into her own room. She looked out the window and saw the bat symbol. She put her hands together and prayed that someday Batman would save her too.
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merlinemrys · 1 year
Text
remind me to write a mergwenthur fic where merlin and gwen have to pretend to be nobles who are courting for ~some reason~ idk idc but arwen’s together and arthur begrudgingly agreed bc merlin is the only man both he and gwen are okay with doing this façade and arthur has zero belief that this scheme will work bc he’s never really seen merlin court anyone and gwen—while she did have a crush on that awkward country boy when he first arrived at camelot—doesn’t know how merlin would fair in stuff like dancing and romance bc she also hasn’t seen much of him be romantic!
cut to a dance scene where merlin blatantly flirts with gwen and gwen’s all flustered and giggly and wide-eyed bc oh dear gods he’s so attractive and he’s so charming and you have arthur in the corner or whatever swallowing his tongue bc he has never seen merlin act with so much confidence, like he was born to charm his way into people’s lives and he realised he can’t even feel a single ounce of jealousy bc he wonders what it’d feel like to be the object of merlin’s affections.
and when arthur and gwen are alone, gwen admits, her hand coming up to the base of her neck where merlin’s touch lingered, “i didn’t think he’d be so good at courting.” and then she fumbles, continuing, “not that i thought he’d be bad at courting—it’s just that i rarely ever saw him—oh goodness. you know what i mean.”
and arthur laughs and tucks a lock of her hair behind her ear before tipping her chin up. he thinks of merlin and gwen on the dance floor, twirling beautifully and capturing the attention of everyone around them while they only had eyes for each other. “merlin’s full of surprises.”
annddddddd idk i never thought of anything other than this ngl
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zablife · 1 year
Text
As Long As I Live (Part 4)
Tumblr media
Tommy Shelby & Amelia Holland (OC) x Bonnie Gold
Summary: When things go wrong at Lizzie's party, Tommy proposes a solution Amelia finds difficult to accept.
Author's Note: Requested by the lovely @kpopgirlbtssvt. This will be the final part to the series and the longest at 4K words!
Warnings: drinking, language, mention of assault and blood, mention of pregnancy, minor character death
Masterlist
“How long is a fucking ballet anyway?” Arthur asked, fumbling inside his coat pocket for his flask of whisky. Finn only shrugged in reply, barely watching the performance himself in favor of staring at his pocket watch. He ducked his head to study the time, only to find the minutes passing more slowly than before. He gave a tired exhale of breath as a hand clamped over his shoulder.
“Finn, we need to get Tommy,” Isaiah said out of breath and uncharacteristically rattled by something. 
“Thought you were supposed to be with Amelia,” Finn noted. “Tommy’ll have your balls if something happens to her.”
Isaiah’s face turned grim as he confided, “Something’s already happened, mate. She’s probably with Frances by now, but Tommy should come to the garden straight away,” he urged.
“Y-yeah, ok,” Finn stammered as he moved into action, glancing at Arthur who didn't look like he'd be much help in his state of inebriation. 
Quickly shuffling between seats, Finn found Tommy and whispered to him. Watching Tommy excuse himself from the front row, Lizzie pressed her fingertips to her temples, willing away a throbbing headache, unaware the night was about to get worse.
As Tommy rounded the corner of the garden he found Bonnie throttling another man, arm pulled back to deliver a punch. “Oi! Get the fuck up!” he yelled, pulling Bonnie off with all his strength and struggling to contain him.
“What’s going on?” he demanded to know, squinting in the dim light to make out the bruised and bleeding figure on the ground. The man rose to a sitting position, holding his ribs and heaving for breath as he searched for a handkerchief to dab at his bloody nose. A sliver of light cut across the garden path illuminating his face and Tommy’s eyebrows raised at the sight of Sir Oswald Mosley.
“One of your thugs attacked me,” Mosley accused, pushing himself up from the ground with great effort. 
Tommy looked to Bonnie for an explanation and Bonnie turned away as he stuttered, “He-he had Amelia. If I hadn’t come-” Tommy held up his hand, his mouth suddenly too dry to speak. He understood Bonnie’s meaning immediately as Mosley’s ghastly reputation preceded him. It wasn’t hard to believe, though he did wonder why Isaiah hadn’t kept her away from the party like he asked. It was no time for that, however, as he attempted to handle the matter at hand.
“I want to know what you’re going to do about this, Shelby,” Mosley demanded, stalking toward Tommy angrily. “This animal belongs in jail for attempted murder,” he seethed, pointing at Bonnie. 
“Nevertheless, you attacked one of my guests first,” Tommy replied, attempting to restrain the venom seeping into his voice. 
Mosley scoffed at Tommy’s comment, taking the handkerchief from his face as he sneered, “One of the whores you employed for the evening?” He waited for Tommy to take the bait, revealing the true nature of the relationship. However, Tommy held firm, swallowing harshly to hold down the bile that threatened to rise in his throat. Seeing no other option, he realized he would have to acquiesce to Mosley’s demands or give that illusion until he could formulate a plan.  
“Alright,” Tommy reluctantly agreed. “If you’ll step inside I’ll make the necessary calls and see that you receive proper medical attention,” he said with lips pursed tight, otherwise expressionless to hide the fear of how he might find Amelia. Tommy exchanged one last concerned look with Bonnie before escorting Mosley inside, his mind preoccupied with his daughter’s well-being before he could begin to think of a solution to this catastrophe. 
———————————-
The next morning blinders guarding the front entrance of Arrow House could hear the shouting from Tommy's office. It reverberated off the paneled walls and down the corridor. The men exchanged nervous glances as pieces of the conversation drifted out toward them. For the better part of an hour Tommy attempted to persuade Amelia to flee without providing details of his treacherous ties to Sir Oswald Mosley. However, his proposal of having her return to a life of travel with Bonnie Gold was not something she was prepared to entertain. 
“How could you do this? Cast me off like some cursed soul?”Amelia yelled. She realized she was being dramatic, but that’s how she felt. 
“Amelia, please, I’m trying to see that you’re taken care of and...,” Tommy trailed off, words failing him suddenly. Was he doing what was right? He’d only just gotten her back. Could he relinquish her so easily? He wasn’t so sure of his decision now that he was saying it out loud, but this was the best plan he could think of on short notice. 
“You’d never do this to Charlie or Ruby!” she shouted, turning to face him with tears stinging her eyes. At a time when she had finally come to believe her father loved his children equally, this was irrefutable proof he saw them very differently. Although she had been attacked in the garden, she felt she was being blamed for it. Her father's insistence on her protection felt more like banishment so he could continue living a life of respectability amongst the toffs he claimed to despise. 
Tommy halted, taking a deep breath as he thought about what he was asking of his eldest daughter. Amelia took his silence as complacency and it infuriated her more. When he finally began to speak she wouldn’t allow more than a few words. He began, “Amelia, I wish you’d consider…” before she interrupted.
“I don’t want to hear about Bonnie Gold again as long as I live!” she said defiantly.
Tommy removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose as he exhaled loudly. She was stubborn and headstrong, qualities he loved about her normally. However, faced with the sickening fingerprint shaped bruises on her neck, he was desperate to get her to safety. “What if Aberama and Polly go with ya?” he pleaded. He clenched his fists to hold back the feelings of helplessness he’d experienced when Izzy disappeared all those years ago, willing this time to be different. 
Amelia looked at Tommy with fiery determination wanting to object, but knowing it was useless because her father was also relentless when he wanted something. It was a battle she would surely loose, a humiliating defeat with only her heart at stake. Finally she gave in with a slow nod of agreement.
Tommy’s posture instantly relaxed knowing he’d found a compromise. “Thank you, Amelia. It’s for the best,” he assured her.
“For me or your fucking career?” she bit back.
“That’s not why I’m doing this,” Tommy urged, holding her gaze in hopes she would recognize the sincerity of his words. 
"It doesn't change the fact that you're giving up on me. Because that's what you do when things are too difficult for you to handle, isn't it? You abandon people... like you did with mum," she confronted him, voice constricting in her throat. 
Tommy felt an uncomfortable weight settle in his chest at her accusation. “I wanted you here, Amelia. It just couldn’t be,” he murmured. He wished to express how much she meant to him, but his words fell away as he noticed the look of disillusionment spreading over her like a disease. 
Amelia’s stare remained harsh as she waited for something more. An apology would have been a start, though she knew her father was unaccustomed to issuing them under any circumstances. 
"You should pack," Tommy finally told her, in a resigned voice.
Amelia shook her head in disgust and turned on her heel, slamming the door behind her as she went. Passing Lizzie in the hallway, she ran to her room.
As Lizzie entered, she found Tommy slumped forward in his chair, elbows on his knees, contemplating what Amelia had said.
“Tommy, what’s happened?” Lizzie asked, pulling her dressing gown closed against the chill.
Tommy exhaled slowly, reaching for a cigarette. He took his time lighting one for his wife and himself before answering, “I’ve fucked it all up, Lizzie, and now she’ll never forgive me.”
“What did you say?” Lizzie asked hesitantly and Tommy told her plainly what was to come. He explained how Moss would arrange Bonnie’s transport early the next morning with just enough time for his men to intercept at a crossroads. Then Aberama and Polly were  to whisk him away deep into the mountains. He held his breath before admitting Amelia would be with them.
“Oh, Tommy, no,” she sighed, abandoning her cigarette in the ashtray and collapsing into a chair. “You promised me she’d be taken care of after everything…” she said, lowering her head into her hands.
“And she will,” Tommy said, coming to stand next to his wife’s side.
Lizzie looked up at him with a shake of her head. “I don’t understand you sometimes. What is this good that you will become?” she demanded to know. “When you turn away your own family. Is this work with bloody fascists so important you’d lose everyone you care about?” 
“Lizzie, please, I need you to understand,” he said, reaching for her hand, but she stood suddenly to avoid his touch. Walking to the door without a backward glance, she left him alone with his thoughts and his regrets.
————————
There was something comforting about being in nature again after nearly a year on Tommy's estate. Now that she was back on the road, it was as though she’d never left. The circling of the crows overheard and the welcoming softness of the velvety moss under her feet were all she needed to feel at home again. Despite the desperate ache she felt leaving her younger siblings behind, she soon found routine in her chores and conversations with Polly, who helped her understand the person her father became in order to survive after the war.  Amelia listened to the stories out of curiosity, but disregarded the silent plea for forgiveness. That wasn’t something she was prepared to give just yet.
Sometimes she contemplated what her life might have been if she’d disobeyed her father and stayed near Small Heath, but those were only fleeting thoughts. She wouldn’t stay where she wasn’t wanted. It was a thought that crept up on her, chilling her even in the warmth of the campfire. Amelia shivered as she stared into the abyss of the flickering light, too lost in the past to notice Aberama approaching. She startled at the feeling of his large palm on her shoulder when he softly asked, "May I sit with you, child?”
She immediately nodded in agreement, gladly accepting his company as she had changed her opinion of him during their travels. He’d proven himself to be generous with her, ensuring her comfort by providing plenty of fresh meat and repairing the old vardo where she slept. She’d also witnessed his fair and honest dealings when trading and felt ashamed at her earlier accusations. 
Taking up a place on a log beside her, Aberama stoked the fire before rubbing his hands together to feel the warmth radiating from the flames. If there was a moment to say what he'd been holding back, now was the time. "You know, I traveled with the Hollands many years ago," he said with a small smile playing on his lips at the memory.
Amelia's head shot up at the mention of her mum’s family, fingers clasping the gem at her throat nervously. "You did?" she asked hesitantly.
"Aye, and I knew your mother," he recalled. "You'd not find anyone better with horses," he mused, eyes drifting upward with the curls of smoke twisting in the night air. Then he added sadly, "She was a rare gem and she would have made a fine wife."
Amelia swallowed a lump in her throat as she asked, “I don’t understand. Were you in love with her, Mr. Gold?”
His head dropped as he huffed out a little laugh, “I think everyone loved Isidora, but we all knew her heart belonged to Tommy Shelby,” he said, reaching for a piece of kindling and his small pocket knife to distract himself with a bit of carving. He was growing nervous at the thought of revealing secrets long buried and looked to his work instead of the girl at his side as he continued. “Amelia. I didn't think it was my place to say anything before, but now perhaps you should know something," he ventured. 
However, Amelia soon grew uncomfortable and attempted to push away the topic that caused a deep chasm to open within her chest. "It's alright, I know my father abandoned her when she was pregnant," she said dismissively, rubbing her thumb over the sapphire in silent apology to her mum. 
Aberama's hands dropped to his sides as he stopped to look at Amelia with a look of confusion, mixed with pain. "No, child, he loved that woman."
Amelia scoffed, "You must have him mistaken for someone else. He never wanted her...or me," she noted bitterly.
"That's where you're wrong," Aberama corrected. “Your parents were very much in love, but your grandfather kept them apart because of a feud.”
“Dad never mentioned that last part,” Amelia said, knitting her brows. 
Aberama considered the piece of wood he held in his hand as he said, “I doubt he knew his father’s deceitfulness caused him to lose Izzy.” He glanced up at Amelia with a mournful look, wishing he weren’t the one to tell her this.
“Your grandfathers were friends. Well, they gambled quite a lot together,” he corrected himself. “Izzy’s father owed money to Tommy's father and in 1914 they began to quarrel," he explained. Amelia leaned forward unsure if she wanted to hear more. Aberama took a deep breath before continuing. "Soon after Izzy fell pregnant and her father came to believe it was some kind of retribution. He was outraged that the Shelbys would collect a debt in such a manner so he sent her away. Said he’d be damned if she married a man with no honor. Of course, your father went to war and by the time he returned, you and your mother were long gone.”
Amelia's eyes were wide with shock and disbelief, wondering if this misunderstanding could be the cause of so much pain. Furrowing her brow she asked the question still lingering in her mind. “But…that doesn't explain why my father never looked for her," she said accusingly.
"He did. For years he asked my family for help, but we never found her,” he said in a voice close to a whisper. Amelia could see the look of regret etched on his face and didn’t ask anything more, choosing to sit in pensive silence. She knew there was little else he could have done to help, time ticking away the years her mother had left before fever claimed her life. She knew from Polly’s stories that in those years Tommy became a hardened criminal and any suspicion the family had about him was cemented in his deeds with the Peaky Blinders.
Amelia’s fingertips lingered over her necklace as she thought of the promise it contained and she realized her father had told the truth when he said he was coming back for his true love after France. She sat back against a log, taking in a deep breath as she closed her eyes and imagined her parents together. It healed her fractured heart to know that they had been happy for a brief time and in a way, their love remained through her.
With the fire crackling between them, Aberama studied Amelia and watched a look of contentment settle over her face. He placed his knife in his pocket with a nod, standing and brushing himself off before leaving the campfire. As she listened to his footsteps, Amelia’s eyes opened and she called out, “thank you.”
Aberama turned back and tipped his head toward her in acknowledgment before joining Polly in their vardo.
———————————
Amelia didn’t spend much time with Bonnie when they first set off into the mountains. He reminded her of the awful night at Arrow House that drove them all away. Sometimes when she looked at him she blamed his jealousy, and the temper Aberama claimed he inherited from his mother, for what happened. However, as time passed, she found it hard to hold a grudge. As her own mood improved she became curious to know Bonnie, though occasions were now rare seeing that he often kept his distance from her.
Sitting by the riverbank, Amelia watched Bonnie cross a log, his feet swift and sure, never faltering, and it reminded her of the day in the boxing ring when he'd shown such promise. Suddenly she found herself thinking of everything he’d given up that night in the garden after she dared to spit in Mosley's face, provoking his animalistic impulses. 
Unable to contain the question as it came to her she blurted out, “Do you hate me?”
Bonnie wobbled on the log for the first time, looking over at her in surprise. He'd waited for the moment Amelia might speak to him again. He feared she might never trust him after the beating he gave Mosley. Thoughts echoed in his mind about the brutality she’d witnessed from him, even after she yelled for him to stop, protesting how she could have managed on her own. But the image of Mosley's hand against her throat as he ripped Amelia's dress replayed on a loop nearly every night and he knew he’d do it all again if necessary to keep her from harm.
Without a hint of hesitation, he replied to her question, “Course I don’t hate ya.” He made his way to the end of the log and jumped down, joining her on the soft grass. “What makes you say that?”
“You’ll never get to live your dream now. Don’t you remember the day in the gym when you told me you wanted to be a champion?” Amelia asked sadly, turning her face away from Bonnie and hiding in her shoulder. 
“I didn’t say that, dove. You did,” Bonnie reminded her gently, looking out over the river.
“What?” she asked in confusion.
“I said I didn’t want to waste my life and I’m not so long as I’m with you,” he replied.
Amelia peeked out from her hiding place, to glance at Bonnie. He laid back against the grass looking up at the passing clouds as he continued, “The day I met you in the stables, I knew you weren’t like anyone I’d ever met. You've got a wild spirit that makes ya fearless. Hell, sometimes I watch you just to see what you'll do next!" An easy laugh escaped his lips and he rolled over to lean on his elbow looking at Amelia as he turned serious. "If I never went back to boxing again, that’d be alright.”
“You’re lying,” Amelia sniffed, though she felt the truth behind the sentiment in the gentle way he spoke, without rushing his words.
Bonnie's heart caught in his chest as she began to cry. He moved toward her slowly, coming to kneel beside her. “M not. Even if you said you hated me, I’d stay.”
“Why?” she asked. “After all this..” she wondered aloud, wiping a tear away with the back of her hand.
Bonnie shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. “Stubborn, I reckon,” he said with a grin, ducking to catch her gaze.
“That’s it?” she giggled in spite of herself.
“No," he said with a soft shake of his head, hand brushing over the luscious grass as he plucked a daisy from the ground. "I’d like to get to know you better cos there’s something else I think I’d like to ask you one day,” he said, offering her the flower and the whole world all at once.
———————
Eight months later…
Arrow House was quiet with the children at school and Lizzie attending a meeting for one of her charities. Only Cyril was left to keep Tommy company on this cold winter’s day, but he didn’t mind. He was soaking in the last moments of tranquil solitude before the entire family would be reunited at last. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so at ease. With Mosley's assassination, his plans for the party could go forward and Bonnie and Amelia were now safe to return home.
A fortnight ago he sent Johnny Dogs to deliver a handwritten message, asking her home to talk and offering an apology for the way they parted. He finally found the words he’d been unable to speak months ago. Though the letter had unburdened his soul, he hadn't slept until he received word she would see him. He also promised Lizzie not to interfere with Amelia's plans after the visit, allowing her to choose her own path now that she was eighteen. 
As luck would have it, she and Bonnie arrived two days before Christmas looking well and much more agreeable than when they left. Tommy wondered what transpired in their time in the mountains, ushering them into his office for a chat. The pair beamed as they requested an audience with both Tommy and Lizzie, smiling from ear to ear. 
As drinks were poured and everyone found a seat in Tommy’s large study, Lizzie held her breath, noticing the obvious sparks between the young couple. Amelia was the first to speak, a glow about her as she excitedly announced her engagement to Bonnie Gold.
“And what, might I ask, happened to “not as long as I live?” Tommy asked incredulously from his place beside his wife.
“Shhh, Tommy,” Lizzie hushed him. Whispering in his ear, she reminded him of his promise to concentrate on Amelia’s happiness from now on. He waved her off, saying, “Alright, alright, Lizzie.”
“Of course, you have my blessing,” he said, standing and extending a hand toward Bonnie.
“Thank you, Mr. Shelby, sir,” Bonnie replied with a wide grin. He pumped Tommy’s hand with a bit too much vigor, excitement and adrenaline coursing through him. 
Lizzie rose from her seat to offer her congratulations to Bonnie and Amelia faced Tommy. She  clutched his letter she’d kept in her pocket since she’d received it. “I’m sorry too, Dad,” she whispered as he held her in a long embrace.
Tommy pulled away to study her dewy eyes asking, “What do you have to be sorry for, eh?”
“I said the worst things before I left. I was hurt, but I didn’t realize you were in pain too,” she managed in a shaky voice, stopping to look deeply into his eyes. “I’m sorry you lost mum, but you won’t lose me again,” she promised.
The breath left Tommy’s lungs as he listened to Amelia’s heartfelt declaration, leaving him speechless and happier than he’d felt all year. As Lizzie looked to them with a tilt of her head, she decided not to pry into their private moment. Instead, she asked the group, “Shall we ask Frances to open a bottle of champagne? We should celebrate properly!”
“We should,” Tommy agreed with a wide grin. “Me daughter’s home and she’s getting married. It’s a good day,” Tommy declared, staring back at Amelia with a look of pride. 
Lizzie looped her arm in his and they set out toward the dining room, peppering Bonnie with questions about his adventures, his easy laugh filling the corridor. 
Amelia watched them happily as she placed a hand over her necklace, feeling the presence of her mother beside her. She hadn’t experienced this kind of inner peace for a long time. The circumstances of her short life had taught her to be wary of this feeling as it was ever changing and tended to shift beneath her feet whenever she found herself on stable ground. However, when she married Bonnie Gold the following spring she knew it was everlasting. As she stood before him in a flowing white dress and a crown of daisies adorning her thick mane of dark curls, she was comforted by the quiet promise in his voice when he proclaimed, “I will love, honor and cherish you for as long as I live.”
----------
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klutzyroses · 1 year
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IkeVamp: S/o jealous of their wife
What happens when his wife from his former life is revived and lives in the mansion but he has a girlfriend now? And she begins to feel insecure and worried that he will leave her for his former love and is scared to tell him?
Suitors: Napoleon, Mozart, Arthur
Warnings: Bit of Angst with a Happy Ending, Slight NSFW
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Napoleon
When she first laid eyes on Josephine de Beauharnais, Y/N felt the slightest twinge of discomfort in her stomach.
She was, is a beautiful woman, no question about it. Intimidatingly so.
At first she pushes down the tense knot in her stomach. Napoleon is with her. Napoleon loves her.
"But for how long...?"
The little voice in her head prods, leaving a deep dent on her heart even as she shoves it away. When Napoleon and Josephine begin to spend time together, it's like they were never apart. They seem to break any tension present between them like it was nothing, within days. They talked, laughed together and reminisced together. They clearly had a strong bond and reconnected so seamlessly, so effortlessly and it bothered her to no end. To hear them discuss the pass, laugh over their shared moments.
Y/N didn't want to admit it to herself and especially not to him but...It hurt. It hurt to see the man she loved connect with another woman on such a deep level. Worse still, it was to be expected. She was his first wife after all, and she had heard from Sebastian that historically, Napoleon was absolutely smitten with her.
He wasn't doing anything wrong. It was perfectly innocent, friendly play. But she can't help but worry as she gazes upon the beautiful empress. She was beautiful, powerful, elegant...everything Napoleon deserved...everything she felt she wasn't.
Y/N didn't want to seem controlling, nor did she wish to get into the habit of dictating who he could or could not be friends with. So she stuffs down her feelings and kept reassuring herself that he wasn't going to leave her.
With that in mind, she keeps a bright smile for her loved one, yet they bubble just beneath the surface, waiting for just the slightest mishap...
That mishap came in the form of a joke made by Arthur. She had been serving dinner to everyone alongside Sebastian when...
"I say, you're quite the pair, 'Leon, it's like the two of you are still married!"
CRASH!!
Several eyes turn to Y/N, startled as she stands there looking like someone had plunged a knife into her, her grip loosening on the plate in her hand. She yelps and fumbles, frantically mumbling apologies to Sebastian and promises to clean up. When a concerned Vincent asks if she is okay, her answer is a flustered affirmation, but the Emperor can sense a crack in her voice, a sadness in her eyes before she rushes off into the kitchen after cleaning it up. His worry amplifies when his nunuche never comes back.
Her room is his first destination after dinner. He can feel his heart twisting upon entry when he sees his belle sat on the bed, her shoulders shaking as she dabs her eyes with a tissue, illuminated by the moonlight streaming through her window.
He doesn't hesitate to take her in his arms, tilting her head up so they were eye to eye.
"What happened nunuche? Tell me what's wrong?"
When she blurts out everything she is and has been feeling, it's Napoleon’s turn to feel like he's been stabbed in the heart. He cups both her face, his jade eyes stern and almost fiery with passion as he speaks.
"You're ridiculous. Why are you thinking like that, nunuche? Why didn't you tell me? Don't you remember...I was reborn in this world to be with you, as a normal man, living only to protect and love you. Your body, your heart and your mind...I'm not going to let them go so easily. Josephine and I, that's in the past, I love her, but as a friend. You, though....you are my future, Y/N. You're the only one for me."
His lips gently collide with hers, pressing until the woman falls on her back onto the bed, the Emperor climbing on top of her. When he pulls back, his eyes are alight with desire and love, a smirk finding its way across his handsome face as he peers into her lovely, flushed visage.
"You're the only one, ma nunuche. And I'm going to prove it."
Mozart
Meeting Constanze Mozart was a...slight awkward affair. Especially when Y/N was introduced as Mozart's lover.
Of course she didn't shy away from her, Y/N had nothing to be ashamed of, and it wasn't as though Mozart didn't make it clear that he had moved on with her.
However, that doesn't make her feel any better when she realizes how close Mozart and Constanze were and...still kind of are.
They clearly have a deep, profound mutual understanding for one another and he seems so soft and gentle with her. The way Y/N saw it from where she stood, it took ages for her lover to start warming up to her and Constanze seemingly had him as putty already. It felt like being punched in the stomach.
Historically, Mozart was possessive and positively enamored with his wife and his current love could definitely see why. The lovely Constanze is graceful and beautiful and her singing voice is like no other. No wonder she used to have Mozart wrapped around her pretty finger. Y/N's worry is that she may still have him wrapped around her finger.
She doesn't want to start any kind of argument by potentially bringing her feelings of insecurity into it. Mozart himself may be the jealous type but it felt like a different story entirely when the woman that Y/N was jealous of was the wife he once adored. No matter how she puts it in her head, any attempts at bringing it up sound accusatory and that is the last thing she wants.
So, just to get a sense of whatever she may need to worry about, she asks Jean his opinion, as he is the person closest to him and could understand his mindset.
Jean, for his part, may have not had much to say about Mozart's closeness to his former wife, but he does share that he genuinely believes Y/N had no reason to worry, which assuages the beauty's concern slightly.
However, the girl should have perhaps specified to Jean that this exchange was to remain between the two of them and was not supposed to get back to Mozart.
Because when a very unhappy musiciam marches up to her that evening, Y/N knows. She just knows.
She doesn't fight him as he drags her off to his room, instead keeping her gaze to the ground the whole time, trying to find any words that could ease the situation, but she doesn't get the chance to speak as her elysian lover speaks first, looking less than pleased, his violet eyes slightly crackling with displeasure.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
She contemplates playing dumb to stall for time but the darkening of his eyes deters her from doing so. He looks upset...really, really upset.
"The truth, Y/N."
She has no choice but to unload her fears and concerns to him in a torrent of emotion, having bottled it up far longer than her sweet heart could take. She feels her throat begin to close up at the end of it, unable to say much more as she glances upwards to avoid her beautiful orbs overflowing with tears. Not once does Mozart interrupt or even speak. He doesn't even seem to visibly react, even after her weak voice trails off. Not until he starts making his way over to her, slowly, silently, but with a hint of menace in his step, causing his beloved to take a step back until she meets the wall.
Soon she is caged by both his arms as he leans in close to her, a serious expression written into his porcelain features, leaving her unable to escape anywhere. Not that she particularly wants to at that moment.
"...If I had known you were going to be this foolish, I'd have reconsidered spending that much time with her. I thought you were smarter than that but apparently I thought wrong."
His words are harsh but his expression begins to soften as he keeps her caged in close to him, his voice lowering to a near whisper.
"I assumed you knew. You are the precious treasure of my life. I've told you that before, haven't I? What part of that wasn't clear to you? Even when I'm with her, all I think about is you as I compose. Make no mistake, mein Schatz, I have no intention of letting you go. And I most definitely do not appreciate you going to another man about your problems. From now on, I demand you come to me, for whatever you need. I won't have it any other way."
He catches a stray droplet of sadness sliding down her cheek, caressing her skin with long delicate fingers before gripping her chin. He gives her a slow, sultry simper that promises nothing short of pleasure.
"It seems like I have to remind you of how much you mean to me. I hope you're ready, because I won't be going easy on you."
Arthur
Upon meeting Jean Elizabeth Leckie, Arthur's second wife, Y/N knows immediately why he had been so captivated by her. She was a kind and likeable woman and treated her with respect.
She was charming, lovely, honestly. And that's probably what has her heart tightening up so much when the charming lady smiles at Arthur.
This only gets worse when Arthur seems to respond with an equally charming smile.
Y/N can't help but wonder if there might just a little spark still left between them. They were still so in sync after all. Of course she wouldn't say this aloud, especially when Arthur is so open about the fact that Y/N is the only apple of his eye now.
For the woman, it's bad enough that she has to put up with her boyfriend's past flings and admirers throwing themselves at him, sometimes while she is there, not that she blamed Arthur for this, but now here is a woman who at one point, genuinely and truly had his love.
Y/N can only blame herself for asking Sebastian what the relationship between Arthur and Jean was, only to receive the tortuous answer that his last words to Jean were that she was wonderful. She honestly walked right into that one.
She doesn't want to confront him, simply because she knows that if she asks, Arthur would distance himself from Jean and potentially lose a friend or...someone he really cares about.
And that is not the type of girlfriend she wishes to be. She doesn't want to be the kind of girlfriend that makes Arthur choose between her and his friends. The kind that makes him wary of who to be friends with. She wants to believe she is open minded, she wants to be understanding, she doesn't want to smother him. After all, isn't that the easiest way to drive away the man she loves?
So the only thing she could really do is smile and act normal. After all, Arthur hasn't done anything wrong. He is only reconnecting with someone he was close with. Being friends with one's former lover wasn't a bad thing. She should be proud of him in fact. Most people didn't get on with their ex-spouses, no?
With that logic, she is able to rationalize her jealousy and stop it from getting out of hand...for a bit.
However, her depressed demeanor does not go unnoticed by her beloved detective. The mystery author is not blind. He could see that lately, his darling has been feeling blue as of late. He suspects it might have something to do with Jean. He isn't absolutely sure but he suspects it.
However, this is only confirmed when he stumbles upon a conversation between the house butler and his love.
Y/N felt low enough that night to confide in Sebastian as they're doing the dishes together. Just to alleviate some of the worries she was feeling deep down.
"Sebastian...am I overreacting? I'm being ridiculous aren't I? Being so upset about nothing."
"I think it's more ridiculous you're invalidating yourself. I personally don't believe you should be worried, but I understand why you are. Master Arthur will too."
"Sebastian...I don't want to tell him who he can and can't be around, that's not fair. I don't want to be...that kind of girlfriend."
Sebastian nods in understanding, a look of sympathy in those grey eyes before they peer over the maiden's head and land on the doorway, realizing he and Y/N were no longer alone, unlike the oblivious beauty herself.
"Well, I personally think, luv, that he knows you are a wonderful person and he would never think so lowly of you. I also think that there is no woman in the world that is more loved by me than you, my darling."
The girl spun around, her eyes wide with sheepish shock as her butler colleague hides a surreptitious smile. The writer walks up to her and takes her hand kissing the top of it.
"I'd have preferred you just talked to me about it, love, but I'm glad to hear the truth. Now I can do something about it. Sebas, you don't mind if I steal this lovely lady for the night?"
With Sebastian's permission, Y/N finds herself swept off her feet. Quite literally as she is carried away towards Arthur's room, a suggestive smile playing on his lips.
"You may want to postpone any plans you may have had this evening, because I plan on keeping you to myself tonight. Prepare yourself, luv~"
🌸
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Text
Three Women to a Market
Trans femme Merlin perhaps? – anon
Read on Ao3
Warnings: gender dysphoria
Pairings: none
Word Count: 4149
Morgana and Gwen have...noticed some strange things about Merlin, which isn't saying much, considering that he's quite a strange man. Still, there are things that seem a little out of the ordinary, even for Merlin. Or, five times Merlin had to hide her true self, and one time she didn't.
 
Morgana truly doesn’t think much of it when she catches Merlin in her wardrobe, fussing with her dresses.
“I don’t think that one’s quite your color,” she says, hiding a smile when he jumps and turns around so quickly he almost stumbles into the side.
“I was just—um—there was a moth—“
“A moth?” She raises her eyebrows, still grinning, and Merlin doubles down.
“Yes! A moth. Huge, the size of—of—“ he holds his hands up— “it was this big. Eat right through any of these—these dresses, M’Lady, I had to make sure it hadn’t gotten in.”
Morgana narrows her eyes playfully at him before she sighs and turns to go to her vanity. “If it’s that big of a moth, perhaps we should call the knights. Get them to shoo it right out.”
She watches him in the mirror as he fumbles for something to say. “I, uh, I think I go it out.”
“Oh, you did? How wonderful, thank you, Merlin. Whatever would we do without you?”
Arthur’s right, she thinks giddily as Merlin turns back to meekly shut the wardrobe, his ears do turn red when he’s all flustered.
“M’Lady,” he mumbles as he turns to go.
Morgana waits until the door has closed and the footsteps clattered away before she sighs, resting her chin on her hands. She turns back to the wardrobe and takes out the dress Merlin had been ‘examining.’
It’s one of her more colorful ones, the rich green one with the purple trim and the stones fastening in the back. She runs her fingers over it, checking to see that there weren’t any moth holes and for what Merlin was actually doing with it. As she looks, she can’t find anything obviously wrong with it, nor can she find evidence of any less than savory endeavors that she would expect from some other men who snuck into her clothes. Try as she might, though, she can’t imagine Merlin doing anything of the sort. Sure, he was awkward at times, and he could be bumbling in his attempts at talking to women of any sort, but he wasn’t like that.
She hangs the dress back up, frowning as she walks back over to her vanity. She takes a seat and begins to under the intricate hairstyle Gwen had done this morning. No, she thinks to herself, it wasn’t like he was looking at them because they were mine, per se.
Rather, he’d just been looking at the dress.
She glances at the wardrobe in the mirror. As ward of Uther Pendragon, he had spared no expense to see her clothed in whatever fineries were available. They were fine works of art in their own right. She supposes she can’t fault Merlin for appreciating the craftsmanship—so few men ever did. Idly, she finds herself picturing one of her shopping days with Gwen, the two of them going stall to stall, inspecting the various wares, and Merlin behind them, helping to carry things, offering his own slightly bumbling opinions, and smiling bashfully when they took his advice.
Morgana stops. Shakes herself. Gives herself a look in the mirror.
What is she thinking? Shopping day was her day to spend with Gwen and Gwen alone. They’d never allowed so much as a guard to accompany them, and here she was fantasizing about including Merlin?
She must be more tired than she thought. She gives herself another shake and goes back to fixing her hair.
Still, she can’t help but smile to herself, it really wasn’t his color.
***
2.
Gwen has long ago come to the understanding that Merlin is one of the most peculiar people she’s ever met and no, she doesn’t mind even the slightest bit.
From their first meeting, him in the stocks, covered with rotting tomatoes, shaking her hand as though they were meeting under perfectly normal circumstances, to this past week where he offered to help her carry the massive laundry baskets and somehow tangled a sheet around a running thief and caught him with a child’s brooch in his pockets, she can never be quite sure what’s going to happen when the two of them spend time together.
She’s not complaining, though. Merlin is by far one of the better options for companionship.
still, she hesitates before asking him for a favor where the two of them have a moment to breathe in between their duties to the Pendragons.
“I know it’s a strange ask,” Gwen says quietly, tucked away in the side hall, “and I understand if you say no—“
“No, Gwen, I’d…I’d be happy to help.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really. I, er, don’t know how much help I’ll be, I’m not—you know, I’m not you—“
“But you’ll be there, and you’ll be another pair of eyes, and that’s all I need.” Gwen reaches out and clasps his hands, smiling widely. “Oh, thank you, thank you, Merlin, I would ask Morgana, but she’s…terribly wealthy.”
Merlin frowns. “What do you mean?”
Gwen sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “She’d suggest I use some fabric or thread that’s from three kingdoms over and when I say that I can’t afford that, she just offers to get it for me, and I…”
Merlin nods with a slight grimace. “Yes, I had to explain to Arthur that he didn’t need to get new boots just because the toe had been scuffed slightly more than usual.”
Gwen shakes her head, grinning. “Thank you so much, Merlin, I really appreciate it.”
“Of course. I’ll see you—“
“At twilight, yes.”
They meet up near Gwen’s father’s house, Merlin tricking his hands politely behind his back as she leads him off to her friend’s house. She takes a key from inside the pail and unlocks the door, letting Merlin inside to see the rows of fabric spread out along the table.
“This shouldn’t take too long,” she says, tucking the key into her apron, “and I’ve got some ideas already.”
“I’m ready when you are.”
Gwen hadn’t been lying; she has most of these patterns planned out already, she just needs to…say them out loud and make sure they sound just as sensible outside of her head as they did inside. Merlin listens carefully, asking clarifying questions here and there when Gwen uses a bit of technical language he doesn’t understand. But it’s…honestly, it’s like talking to any of the other women she works with on these. Once or twice, she even holds up the fabric to see how it goes with Merlin’s complexion and he nearly glows each time she does.
”I know this is boring,” she says near the end, “but you’ve been really helpful.”
“No, I’m—this is kind of fun,” Merlin admits, scratching the back of his head, “I…I’m glad I could help.”
Gwen pauses, her hands on the next bolt of fabric, She looks at him for a moment. “If…if you’d be willing, I think I’m going to need some more help next month?”
Merlin beams. “I’d love to.”
Strange man, yes, but Gwen adores him.
***
3.
At some point, Camelot will admit to itself that it hosts the tournaments and festivals as often as it does for the sheer enjoyment of it, not because of any old traditions or long-term alliances that must be maintained, or whatever the old steward was on about whenever Morgana asked. It’s an excuse for celebration, and there should be no shame in saying as much.
There’s another one this week; knights and champions have been arriving all morn and the royal retinue of Camelot has been in court to welcome those of noble heritage. It’s not so bad, truth be told, most of the things she must do is allow her hand to be kissed by those who have the courage to approach her, and smile politely at those who do not while having whispered conversations with Gwen as they speak to Uther and Arthur. As far as hours-long court proceedings go, there are far worse ones to be trapped in.
At least until Gwen murmurs that she has to step away and attend to t he rest of her duties.
Morgana nods, because Gwen is right, of course, but she cannot help the slight slump of her shoulders as she watches Gwen curtsy and leave the grand hall. With her conversation partner no more, she finds herself growing bored quickly. She has no interest in recounting ceiling tiles, so she lets her eyes drift over to where Arthur and Merlin are standing.
Arthur greets every knight with a firm handshake and they exchange a few challenges, fighting words, whatever they want to call their puffing themselves up like proud peacocks. Merlin stands there much the same way she is, a polite indifference on his face that only breaks when one of the knights deigns to look at him.
“Are you eager for another bout, then?” Arthur laughs as he shakes the hand of a knight from Cenred’s kingdom. “Or are you still recovering from that fall you had last time we met?”
“You got lucky, young prince,” the knight says with a laugh, “I assure you it will not happen again.”
“Right, I’m sure this time you’ll blame the horse.”
The knight laughs again and glances at Merlin. “Is this your squire? Another man to back up your words?”
“Merlin? Oh, god no, he’s my manservant.” Arthur claps a hand on Merlin’s shoulder. “Not one for the ring.”
“Perhaps you should let him have his fun this time around,” the knight suggests, “it’s every man’s right to feel the rush.”
Something flickers across Merlin’s face so quickly Morgana is half convinced she imagined it.
“Oh, trying to beat my manservant instead of me? Are you that afraid?”
They exchange one or two more jabs before the knight moves on.
After that, well, every time one of the knights or Arthur says something about the tournament being ‘a man’s greatest glory’ or ‘a man’s desire for combat or victory’ or ‘it’s a man’s right to fight for his honor,’ some such masculine nonsense, she sees that flicker across Merlin’s face again. One of them says something about Merlin being a coward and she half expects Arthur to do the same, only for Arthur to put his arm firmly around Merlin’s shoulders and say that the measure of a man is not in battlefield prowess alone, and that Merlin is just as much a man as any of them.
Which would be…oddly sweet for Arthur, and honestly a vast improvement, had Merlin not immediately looked like he was about to be sick.
She’s moving before she realizes it.
“Uther,” she calls, watching the man’s head instantly snap around to look at her, “I find myself growing weary, would it be alright if I…?”
He’s nodding before she even finishes her sentence. “Yes, of course. Please, you’ve done enough for today, there’s only a few of them left.”
She curtsies. “I’m going to go for a walk in the gardens. Merlin, would you accompany me?”
Arthur gives her a strange look, but Merlin has already nodded and made to step away.
“Merlin!”
“It’s alright,” Merlin says to Arthur, leaning in a little, “you know how particular Morgana is about things like this.”
Ah, they must be remembering the guards that were found with their britches stuffed with bread rolls and cakes shoved into their mouths after they tried to ‘escort’ her. She smiles fondly at the memory.
Merlin steps easily to her side, offering her his arm as they depart the hall. With her hand nestled in the crook of his elbow, she can feel the way his shoulders slump as soon as the doors thud shut behind them.
As they make their way outside, the cool breeze blowing through the flowers, Merlin bows his head and mumbles something under his breath.
“Thank you.”
Morgana gives his arm a squeeze. “I should be thanking you for giving me the perfect excuse to get out of there.”
Merlin chuckles and their laughter floats through the garden paths.
***
4.
It seems like every other day in Camelot, something is going wrong, or someone needs to know this obscure bit of information, or some long-long grudge held by a noble that Uther won’t speak about needs to be revealed so that the kingdom doesn’t descend into war.
Regardless of the reason, Gwen has memorized how to get to Gaius’s quarters from nearly everywhere in the castle.
Today is no exception; some visiting noble has caught a terrible cold and seems to believe she is on the verge of death. Despite multiple repeated attempts to placate her, nothing but the promise to fetch the King’s physician would do anything to stop the hysterical cries. So, here Gwen is, going down to Gaius’s chambers late at night to try and get him to come and soothe this poor woman.
When she reaches the corridor, she’s surprised to see the door is partly open. She frowns, touching it lightly, and it swings open to reveal a mostly darkened room. Gaius is nowhere to be found and so she turns to look somewhere else when she catches sight of light coming from Merlin’s room at the very back. With no small amount of concern, she walks carefully into the room and peers up the stairs.
Through the thin crack in the door, she glimpses Merlin holding a massive black blanket. It’s a shaggy and shedding thing with bits of fiber falling off as he moves back and forth. She frowns, creeping a bit closer. What on earth could Merlin be doing with such a thing? The weather hadn’t turned that cold yet, and even if it had, a blanket like that wouldn’t provide any sort of decent insulation on its own. Does Merlin need more blankets? She’s sure if they asked Arthur, maybe he would—
Her line of thinking comes to an abrupt halt when she sees him disappear behind the blanket and reappear with it wrapped around his neck. And his arms. And his chest. And—
Oh, Gwen realizes silently as Merlin shakes out the fabric, it’s a dress.
A baggy, shapeless, shedding and sweltering dress, but a dress nonetheless. Merlin adjusts it once more and looks at the wall—there must be a mirror there. Something in his expression changes, smoothing out, and he takes the skirt in his hands, moving it about. He turns this way and that, looking at his reflection.
In a flash, something cold and shameful crawls over Gwen’s skin.
I’m not supposed to see this.
This is clearly a private moment for Merlin. It means a lot to him. She shouldn’t be here, stealing it. Gaius isn’t here anyway, she’s here to find Gaius, not intrude and spy on Merlin.
As quickly and quietly as she can, she makes her way out and closes the door to Gaius’s rooms. With any luck, someone else has found him already and the noblewoman’s fears have been calmed.
Still, as much as she tries to banish it from her mind, she can’t stop thinking about how happy Merlin looked as he put on the dress.
***
5.
Ripples distort the reflection of the moon across the surface of the lake as a cool breeze blows into the forest. Crickets sing as the horse makes its way carefully through the underbrush, snuffling at bushes and three branches of interest. When it reaches the tree line around the lake, it comes to a stop to allow its rider to dismount and walk towards the water’s edge.
The figure sets a basket down near to a broad, flat rock and lays a folded-up cloak next to it. The moonlight captures a hand reaching for a bottle tucked into the tip of the basket. The horse snuffles and nibbles on some grass as the figure drinks the bottle’s contents and reaches for the folded-up cloak. Clouds cover the moon as the magic begins to take effect.
When the sky clears, an old woman sits on the rock, a small bundle of yarn in her lap. She clumsily picks up the knitting needles, fumbling to hold them correctly in her hands, before she continues to knit the scarf that pools beneath her elbows. The stitches are not the neatest, some are a little tighter than the others, and every so often she drops one and has to go back and fix it. The fibers on her dress catch in her work every so often and the yarn tangles from its sloppily-coiled ball as she tries to draw more out.
And yet there is a contented smile on her face as she knits in the moonlight.
The smile does not leave her face as she lets her mind wander, but it does change. It grows wistful as she imagines herself walking through the market, looking at everything and talking with the merchants. It grows melancholy when she realizes that the moon will begin to fade soon and she won’t be able to come here for a while. It grows bittersweet as she realizes her scarf is nearly finished, and she’ll have to find some new yarn soon.
It grows terribly sad as she thinks about how here, and only here, does she truly feel Ike herself.
Her horse, as if sensing her thoughts, ambles over and noses at her shoulder. She lifts one hand from her knitting to pat its face, smile turning happier as the horse snuffles against her hair. She sighs, promising to herself that she will think happier thoughts now, when she hears a twig behind her snap.
She turns, peering into the darkness. After a moment, the horse calls out and two answering nickers sound from the trees.
”I know you’re there,” she calls, “you may as well come out!”
A pause, during which the breeze sends ripples across the lake, and then two more figures emerge from the darkness of the tree line. One clad in a rich green cloak, the other in more modest blue one. They lower their hoods to look at the old woman, sat on the rick with her knitting in her lap.
‘We’re looking for a friend,” the taller one says, her voice as clear and cool as the moon, “we thought he might have passed this way.”
The old woman shuffles. “Awfully late for a friend to be passing through.”
“Which is why we’re quite eager to find him. We don’t know where he’s gone and we’d like to ensure he’s safe. Have you seen anyone around?”
The old woman turns back to the lake. ‘None have passed by this lake except me and this old one.”
Her horse nickers.
The other figure, who holds the reins of the other two horses, furrows her brow. She looks between the horses and at the old woman’s dress, Something flickers across her expression and she swallows heavily.
“Well, if you do see our friend, could you pass on a message?”
The other figure’s head turns and she hisses: “What are you doing?”
“Trust me,” the second hisses back, before speaking normally again. “If it’s not too much trouble.”
The old woman turns back slightly. “What message would you send?”
“There’s a market that opens up in Camelot tomorrow,” she says, “we were wondering if our friend would like to come with us.”
The old woman pauses. “That is a very nice message to pass to a friend.”
“The market is lovely this time of year,” she continues, “if…if you can come, I think you’d have a wonderful time.”
The moon glimmers across the surface of the water as the old woman takes a breath and lets it out slowly. “…yes. Perhaps I would. It has been…some time since I have been to a market.”
“You should come,” she says, “I would love to see you there.”
The first woman, who had been looking between the two of them, perplexed, seems to turn her trust to her companion and nods. “It would be nice to have someone else to walk about with.”
The old woman is quiet for a moment. “If I see your friend, I will tell him this. And perhaps…perhaps I will see you too?”
“Yes, that would be lovely.”
The old woman nods once more. “You two should go back to your houses. As you have said, it is very late and not good to be out of doors like this.”
The two women exchange another look, before bidding their farewells and riding back off into the darkness of the forest. The old woman remains there for a moment longer, looking at the water, then down at herself.
“A market day,” she muses, her smile returning, “perhaps…perhaps this would be a good idea.”
***
+1.
“Are you sure about this, Gwen?”
“Positive,” Gwen says, eyes scanning the crowd. Next to her, Morgana sighs and folds her arms.
“I still don’t know what you hope to gain by inviting that old woman to the market. And what of Merlin? That was his horse she had with her, and if she had it then—“
“Morgana,” Gwen says, turning and clasping her hands, “please, trust me. Merlin is alright, and the old woman—well, you’ll see when she gets here.”
Morgana narrows her eyes at her for a moment before sighting. “Alright. But if you’re wrong about this—“
“Then you can have all of the sugar pastries they made.”
“Just to be sure you remember,” Morgana smiles, both of them knowing full well she‘s going to insist that Gwen have at least one.
“There!”
Gwen points through the crowd. Sure enough, the old woman shuffles slowly towards them, looking about and pulling the cloak a bit closer around her head. Her black dress catches on the loose cobbles as she goes, her hands knitting together nervously as she moves about. Gwen waves, gesturing her over to the small patch of stillness they’d found for themselves amidst the hustle and bustle.
“Look at her eyes,” Gwen murmurs to Morgana as the old woman nears, “really look at her.”
Morgana opens her mouth to ask what exactly that could mean, but quickly changes to smile when the old woman draws near. “Hello, I’m so glad you could make it.”
The old woman looks about. “I’ve…never been to this market before,” she says nervously, “and I…did not see your friend.”
”That’s alright,” Gwen says, stepping forward and linking her arm through hers, “I’m sure he’ll find his way here eventually.”
Morgana, who had been watching the old woman closely, tilts her head as Gwen looks at her expectantly. The old woman’s eyes flick over her cloak.
“I love the markets,” Gwen says, still looking at Morgana, “they’re such a good place to find new things, aren’t they?”
She motions to the old woman’s dress.
“I’m sure we could find something you might like too, don’t you?”
“Oh, well—I’m not sure I’m meant for all the fineries,” the old woman says with a small laugh, “though they look lovely on you both.”
”Oh, come on, everyone needs a little something now and then.” Gwen says, “isn’t that right, Morgana?”
“Yes, of course.”
“What about some fabric for a new cloak?” Gwen gestures between them. “Something like this, maybe?”
“Oh, no, dearie,” the old woman says hesitantly, “I don’t…think that’s really my color.”
Morgana’s eyes go wide and she looks at the old woman with something almost like wonder. The old woman shuffles and shrinks a little under the scrutiny and she quickly takes off her cloak and drapes it over one of the woman’s shoulders.
“I think it looks wonderful,” she says softly, watching the old woman’s eyes light up, “and I’m sure the moths won’t get at it.”
The old woman holds her breath. Morgana and Gwen move a little closer and she lets out a shuddering breath.
“You…you wouldn’t mind if I…accompanied you?”
“Not in the slightest.”
“It would be our pleasure.”
“You wouldn’t find it…in bad taste?”
Gwen grins. ‘Not even a little. I think you look beautiful.”
“It’s been a while since Gwen and I have had another woman to shop with,” Morgana says, lacing her arm through the woman’s other side, “it would be a pleasure to have you join us as often as you want.”
“Really?”
“Of course!” Morgana tilts her head, considering something, before she leans closer. “And perhaps you could help us pick up a few things for our friend too?”
The old woman’s face splits into a lovely little grin. “I would like that very much.”
“Come on, then,” Gwen says, “the market’s waiting!”
Many a merchant that day would be happy to tell you of the three women who visited their stall, smiling all the way.
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lxvenderjewel · 8 months
Text
song/ship analyses part 6: merthur and "call it what you want" by taylor swift
this one was inspired by a video i saw on yt: merlin & arthur || call it what you want [CC] go check it out after this!!
“My castle crumbled overnight” i mean in both s4 and s5 arthur loses control of his kingdom so like
“They took the crown, but it's alright” i know arthur’s like. magic-high during the s4 finale but if the shoe fits
“All the liars are calling me one” being a king he’s probably been called a liar a lot, even by his own father he’s been called a liar (which is like. hypocrite much??)
“Nobody's heard from me for months” during the entire s4 finale no one knows where arthur is except merlin
“Walkin' with his head down, I'm the one he's walkin' to” merlin’s arthur’s servant, so of course he’s walking with his head down towards him (well maybe not with his head down he doesn’t have that kind of respect for arthur 💀)
“High above the whole scene, loves me like I'm brand new” merlin never seems to be swayed by public opinion, he always has complete trust in arthur
“So call it what you want, yeah, call it what you want to” can you imagine how many rumors swirl around merlin and arthur? this lyric is so perfect be real
“Windows boarded up after the storm
He built a fire just to keep me warm” whenever arthur goes through hardship merlin’s always right there. when uther dies merlin sleeps right outside to offer arthur comfort as soon as he needs it
“All the jokers dressin' up as kings” morgana
“They fade to nothin' when I look at him” i think arthur has a lot of faith in merlin. like as in merlin is part of what motivates him to be a better king for his people
“And I know I make the same mistakes every time
Bridges burn, I never learn, at least I did one thing right” he often fumbles romantically, and when he finally thinks he has gwen, he ultimately loses her to lancelot, but merlin stays with his unwavering loyalty to arthur
“I'm laughin' with my lover, makin' forts under covers
Trust him like a brother, yeah, you know I did one thing right” arthur and merlin antics, like that one pillow fight scene in an episode i can’t recall, and “trust him like a brother” of course he does. a term that comes to mind for merthur is “t’hy’la” from star trek, which roughly translates to “friend, brother, lover”
“Starry eyes sparkin' up my darkest night” merlin’s eyes when he does magic
“I want to wear his initial
On a chain 'round my neck, chain 'round my neck” this line reminds me of the deleted scene where arthur gives merlin his sigil (which i think is in the video as well)
“Not because he owns me
But 'cause he really knows me
Which is more than they can say, I” many people look at arthur like a kind of god, considering he’s king, and even his knights, who he’s closest with, still look at him with some sort of reverence, but merlin treats him like just another person, which must be so refreshing, to not have any expectations on your head and to be just known as you are without and preconceived notions
“I recall late November
Holdin' my breath, slowly I said
"You don't need to save me
But would you run away with me?"” he never actually says it to merlin but this line reminds me of when arthur is with gwen and he tells her he dreams of living in some village with merlin and just being a farmer, and living a calm, soft life
once again go watch the video!! it’s very well made and the person who made it is awfully talented
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lizard-shifter-noms · 3 months
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Still Subject to Change Chapter 19 (NEW)
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Hello everyone! i decided to repost arc 1 of SSTC
(the chapters were way too long and had a bunch of typos but hopefully this will make reading easier)
this Story contains Vore, Dont like dont read.
if there are still any grammatical errors i’m sorry.
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Nea stared for a few seconds, waiting for anyone to make a move.
As that didn’t happen she shrugged and turned to the other two Knights that had stayed behind.
“Get some blankets and bedding material, i don’t think they are going to move”
The knights hesitated and she snapped at them.
“I said ta get Blankets! Are ya deaf?”
She raised her helmet a little which sent the two under her order running through the door in order to fulfill her command.
Now we were alone with her.
She turned back to us and rummaged through the barely reachable pocket in her tunic under the armor and pulled out a keyring with various keys in different sizes after a few seconds.
“Gotta open tha door of course”
She walked past us right towards the over to the big wooden door that was tall enough that even i wouldn’t have to duck much.
What the fuck was that even built for?
I heard the telltale click of a lock opening after Nea fumbled a few seconds with it and then shoved the door open as much as she could with her shoulder.
The oversized wooden gate was just a bit too big for her to do that alone.
I decided that since I was apparently staying there anyway I might as well help and pushed the door the rest of the way open with my head.
One thing was still weird to me though, She was the least freaked out person about my big and fuzzy stature I had met and she freely sent away the other Guards, meaning she was alone with us now with no backup should anything go wrong.
Asking couldn’t hurt right?
“Hey, Nea right? How come you are so…chill with a big green beast right next to you?”
She looked at me with something akin to amusement in her eyes.
“Same story as ta how i got to be such a high ranking guard, i’ll tell ya when ya are all somewhere warm”
Well now I was intrigued, and I wasn’t the only one as Arthur and Robin slowly walked through the entrance after me.
The inside was spacious enough, with a hayloft and some straw strewn about.
Aside from that and a few torches here and there it was empty and rather dimly lit.
Hey, maybe Robin and Arthur could sleep on the elevated platform, might be fun for them.
Looking back I could see Nea doing her best to close the door and actually manage, a job I was sure usually needed at least two men judging by how I had to push against it.
Maybe closing it was easier than opening it, who knew.
The door closed with a clack and the cold air that had seeped in disappeared.
She turned back to us and made a shooing motion.
“Pick a spot and get Comfy, no idea how long those guys are going ta chatter each other ears off”
Her weird nonchalant demeanor was kinda funny, I had a feeling a manticore could charge in and she wouldn’t bat an eye.
And I kinda liked her accent, it was not something I had heard before.
Since it looked like I was supposed to wait here until whatever Rikaad did with those guys I might as well get comfy, I didn’t want to make an entire army angry at me after all.
In the end I just laid down on the floor with some hay so the ground was a bit more insulated. 
The wood was still warmer than blank stone though.
I wasn’t even in place for one second and Robin had already claimed a spot right next to me, shuffling into the fur of my arm and using me as a pillow.
Arthur had a bit more hesitance and slowly went over to us while not breaking his line of sight with Nea.
He ended up settling next to Robin on the floor, hand near where his sword should be.
Nea herself dragged a three legged stool from somewhere over and set it a fair bit away in front of us.
“So, i’m sure ya want answers, can’t give much of them as my knowledge is limited but i can tell other stories too if ya’d like?”
She was really trying to be friendly, but I didn’t think anyone else in the room was in a good mood.
We just stared at her in silence, until.
“When can we see Rikaad?”
Robin had piped up and immediately buried into my fur again.
Nea looked not too surprised by this question.
“I guess after they are done talking, However i don’t know for how long they decide to talk, so might be in an hour or tomorrow who knows”
Well that was not very useful, but at least we could see him at some point.
Before I could think of something to ask Arthur had stood up.
“Say, what the fuck is going on? And if Rikaad is heir to the throne why wasn’t he ever in the castle? Why was he living downtown?
And why did nobody tell him? Just WHAT THE FUCK in general!”
I had pinned my ears back at his sudden outburst, and even Nea seemed taken aback by it.
She composed herself quickly enough though.
“Well i don’t know the details, tha only ones that do are the highest ranking schmucks, but as far as i was told it was for his own protection, personally i suspect that a previous Heir was murdered but that’s just a rumor”
Finally some useful information, even if it wasn’t much.
Maybe I should just ask her to tell us what even happened one thing after the other.
“Nea? Maybe it’d be easier if you just tell the story of what even happened, like how did you know which person to look for? And where were we?”
“Oh yeah, good idea! Shoulda have done that from tha start i guess”
She made herself a bit more comfortable on the wooden stool and then turned to us again.
“About i dunno, three days ago? We got the order ta go and get some guy from the School dorms as the king had died about six hours prior.
When we got there the headmaster informed us that the man we were looking for wasn’t there, hadn’t been for some time even cuz he ran into the woods with some other student to retrieve someone else and just didn’t come back.
So tha head Guard decided ta send us out into the snow and search for him, that sucked by the way it was cold as fuck.
But yeah, after we didn’t find him in the city Norrin had us go out into the woods, at night, i really wanted ta strangle him for that.
And the rest, well ya were there, though i have to say i wasn’t informed that we were looking for tha Heir, i really wish i had known that sooner and not just last minute”
Huh, so that’s what was going on, and I guessed that it was technically my fault too.
If I hadn’t taken Robin that day they would have found all of them where they were supposed to be.
Nothing I could do about it now.
It was kind of funny though that even the people that were supposed to search for him didn’t know what was going on.
“Well, that’s all, any more questions before I go look for tha idiots that were supposed ta get blankets?”
Oh right, she sent the other two knights to get that.
She also did say she would tell the story of how she became a Guard.
To be honest she was kinda sympathetic, and she didn’t really hesitate to call her coworkers schmucks, which was funny.
Better ask before she left, she had already stood up.
“You said you’d tell the story of how you managed to become guard, And i have to say i’m curious, i didn’t think the old king allowed Women in his ranks”
She turned back to us and I could feel Robin shrink even more into my fur.
“Yeah right, I did do that. Well, I used ta be a farmhand, I lived right next to tha forest and one day a patrol was there n’ said they were looking for a Drake.
I found it, it got into my shed, and I ended up beating the thing to Death with my grampas Helmet.
I also might have kicked some of tha soldiers and I guess they were impressed? Whatever, it did land me a pretty good job at least.
Well see you later if those idiots don’t come back soon”
Before anyone could do anything she had already vanished out the door.
What a kickass lady, I wasn’t sure if I believed the Drake story though, those things were dangerous enough if you were with a group.
Taking one on alone? With nothing but a Helmet? Surely not.
I wasn’t the only one that thought so either, judging by Robin’s nervous Question.
“You think she really killed Drake? Those things are like, twice the size of a horse!”
“No idea, but she is a high ranking Guard so maybe?”
Arthur meanwhile had left his spot next to us and climbed the elevated platform in the other half of the room.
I couldn’t make out what he was doing very well but it looked like he was staring out a window.
“Arthur? What are you doing?”
He turned to face us.
“I’m trying if I can see anything, like maybe I can see Rikaad in one of the windows?”
Sure, I didn’t think it would help any, especially since the castle was on the right side of us and the platform faced forward so he wouldn’t be able to see much.
Whatever gave him peace of mind, I was far too tired to think at this point and needed sleep.
I had taken the first watch today and the last watch yesterday so I had been awake for way longer than I should have, and then we had to walk even more through the snow after the Guards found us.
My legs definitely wouldn’t cooperate for the next six hours, not that my brain would either.
I Lifted my arm and put it down on the other side of Robin before dragging both closer to me and laying my head down.
Robin was now smooshed against the side of my head and leaning against my arm, sort of forming a narrow furry space he could squeeze between and use as a source of warmth.
Those fucks still weren’t back with any Blankets after all.
Arthur had meanwhile climbed down again and it took him a few seconds to find Robin nestled against me.
“You know what sleep sounds like a good idea”
He walked over and just fell face forward into my side, not caring that he was still exposed to the cold air.
For once the tail was useful, I curled it around me so the fluffy tip of it would cover Arthur and shield him from the cool air in the oversized room.
We could worry about what would happen when we weren’t so tired anymore, and for now Rikaad was okay,
if he really was King they wouldn’t hurt him.
I laid my head down and sorta trapped Robin by doing that, but I knew he wouldn’t wake up before I did so it was fine.
I was asleep within seconds, safely curled around both Arthur and Robin.
I woke up some time later to the sound of the door creaking and opened one eye to look.
Nea had come back and she was carrying something that looked like fabric, the blankets she said she’d get.
I couldn’t have been asleep for long then.
She looked around confused for a second before her eyes settled on my side.
Arthur’s arm was sticking out from under the fluff and decently visible.
She then placed the blankets on top of the stool she had sat on earlier and left again.
Since there was no danger or even any sort of problem I felt like I could go back to sleep.
If anything wanted to hurt the two little men right beside me they would have to go through me first.
I closed my eyes again and the dreamland welcomed me back.
The next time I woke up was because someone kept shoving at the underside of my jaw.
“Donovaannnn Move, i wanna get up and you are trapping me!”
My head jolted up and Robin let out a rather adorable squeak.
“Sorry, I thought I would wake up before you, you okay?”
He was now half draped over my arm but nodded enthusiastically.
“Yes, I’m good, now let’s go look for Rikaad!”
Ah, right, so all of this wasn’t a dream then.
I slowly stood up and saw that Arthur was also awake.
“Alright, where should we look first?”
“I suggest the door”
All of us whipped our heads towards the voice at the same time.
And we weren’t mistaken, Rikaad was standing in the doorway, no idea how he had managed to pull the squeaking hinge open without us noticing though.
It wasn’t even a second and I could already see a ginger blurr zip past me,  immediately latching onto the taller human with a big smile and squeal of delight.
Arthur also walked over as fast as he could, not full on sprinting though.
I didn’t know if I should go over just yet as well, they knew each other for way longer than i did so i just stood awkwardly there staring at them.
I could see that Rikaad had been given new garments, a dark blue vest with purple trim and red undershirt as well as dusty brown pants and a pair of shoes.
There also was some sort of gold insignia on his chest and he was wearing a light blue sash.
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I didn’t have to think about whether i was wanted in that awkward group hug or not as Robin winked me over and i realized that all of us did not fit into the doorway at once, I would shove them away if I tried.
Robin stopped clinging so tightly to Rikaad but still refused to let go and instead dragged him inside.
No doubt that if Rikaad had just stood there he wouldn’t have budged a millimeter, but he just went with it anyway.
I kinda didn’t know what to say, one one hand he was still the weirdly stoic Rikaad i knew and on the other he was the Heir, So what the hell was I supposed to do?
Also i ate the guy not even a few days ago.
As it turned out I didn’t have to do anything as the nagging question we all had was voiced aloud by Arthur.
“Soooo uh what the hell? Can you PLEASE explain? The best we got was some lady telling us that they walked through snow to go find you”
Rikaad nodded curtly.
“Of course, it might take a while so we best sit down somewhere”
Since there wasn’t really anything in here aside from the hay and the stool with the blankets on it I just sat down where I was.
Realizing that I was still a lot taller than everyone else I laid down on the floor again and Robin immediately jumped to use one of my crossed arms as a backrest.
Arthur just sat on the floor where he was and Rikaad did the same, crossing his legs and making a straight back.
Yeah, I could kinda see his bloodline with him sitting like this.
“So tell, what is going on?”
I was really curious, like why did they put him in a civilian household?
That didn’t make sense.
At least he was willing to explain, and that he did, luckily a lot more coherent than Nea too.
“Well, I was informed that the reason i was placed into a foster family was that every other heir was killed pretty soon after being born, rather violently too.
So there was a murderer that specifically targeted the Royal bloodline and I was sent away and declared dead to the public.
I was supposed to leave with them the moment the old king had died and take his place.
But they couldn’t find me at the dorms, you all know why, so they sent a search party to find us and bring us back to Kamerasca.
Any questions?”
That… did answer a lot of things really,
like why he was not in the castle in the first place and of course why the knights were willing to go into the forest at night.
But to be put into a foster family and not even know it?
What about his adoptive parents? It was impressive that they never told anyone but now that Rikaad knew what would they do?
Those were far too personal Questions though, so I wasn’t gonna ask.
Arthur also didn’t really look like he had questions , just horrified at the prospect of assassins in the castle, which, fair enough.
Robin however-
“So I’m the only normal one here? Whyyyy, thats dumb”
Ah yes, Problems and priorities.
Though I would not call him ‘normal’ of all things, He was a chaotic little ginger that spaced out sometimes and made nice flower crowns.
His comment however seemed to have confused Rikaad a bit.
“What do you mean by that? Arthur is pretty normal too”
He didn’t know! Oh that was going to be awkward, if Arthur even told him.
On that thought, why did Robin know of Arthur’s heritage?
He only told me as far as i knew.
Maybe he told it during the time I was unconscious?
Whatever it might have been, that wasn’t going to save him from Rikaads intense gaze that clearly wanted an answer.
Arthur had stayed tight-lipped for a few seconds before he finally came out with the truth.
“You’re not the only one with royal blood, so it’s kinda my fault that the Maringand Guards stuck us in the tower? I’m really sorry about that though, my uncle’s a dick like that”
As I had thought it was awkward as hell, At least for Arthur’s sake I decided to stay out of it.
I even put a paw in front of Robin and hugged him closer to me so he would keep his chattery mouth shut.
Rikaad took it in stride though, and he didn’t ask specifics, probably to not bother Arthur about it even more who was visibly uncomfortable.
“So I take it you can’t go to Maringand anymore?”
Arthur sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck.
“Yeah pretty much, also they think i’m dead and they better keep it that way”
I had a feeling this conversation was going in an even worse direction,
at least for me.
“Why do they think that?
I thought you said you escaped through a sewer?”
Arthur was silent for a few seconds, likely realizing what he had given away just now.
“Nevermind! Say what’s the plan for now?”
He rushed out an octave to high.
Rikaad still looked at him a bit suspiciously but thankfully let it drop.
Gods i didn’t want to explain that fuckery, especially not after getting stabbed by him.
I could feel Robin trying to break free from my hold and gave him a bit more space so he wouldn’t have my paw in his face anymore.
“Yeah what do we do now? Do me and Arthur have to go back to school? What about Donovan?
Where is he gonna stay? And what about the no Fae rule your old man made? Is that still in place?”
It looked like he wanted to say even more but I nudged him in the side to make him shut up for a second.
“Breathe, you look like you’re going to fall over, we can look at all this later, yeah?”
He very predictably pouted and made puppy eyes.
It was sadly very effective, so I had to look away.
I looked at Rikaad instead, Robin had brought up a few very good questions, what about me? What was I going to do now?
I wouldn’t really mind living in this weird shed if it got a bit spruced up.
There was of course the possibility that i would have to leave, I didn’t entertain that thought for long.
“You can of course all stay at the castle, you are my friends, I’m not going to send you away!
As for the rules the old man made i will look them all over individually”
It was a relief to know that we could all stay here, even if it was weird to think that it was literally the castle.
Another thought came to mind, the closer we had gotten to Kamerasca the colder it got, did he know anything about that?
Because this was way past freaky weather.
“Did you find out why the weather is so fucked?
This extreme cold can’t be normal”
He shook his head.
“Sadly not, but i do agree with you that this is not normal, i will look into it”
That was probably a good idea, if this went on all the crops would die and the people of Kamerasca would starve.
Not a pretty fate.
“Maybe Oakley knows what to do? He knew about the Ardua thing too!”
All eyes in the room went to Robin, he, Well he wasn’t wrong but it took multiple days to get to Oakley’s place.
And Arthur was the one to point that out.
“It takes ages to get to his shack, and there’s no guarantee that he does know, or even wants to help at all, i mean Kamerasca has not been nice to the pointy eared folk”
It was kinda funny that he said pointy eared folk instead of Fae, but we didn’t actually know if Oakley WAS Fae, he might just be weird.
Also it took a Human a few days to get there, about a week at the shortest.
I wasn’t human, and my legs were way longer so i probably could make the journey in about three days minimum.
“I could go? If i go alone i’m way faster, and Oakley kinda expects me back anyway so it’d be rude to just not tell him that i live here now”
Yeah it would be an asshole move to not say anything, so just because of that i had to go there.
The others seemed a bit apprehensive about letting me go into the woods alone.
“Are you sure?”
I looked at Arthur who was the only one to voice his concern out loud and nodded at him.
“Yes, and that way i can give him back the compass too, so i’m going”
Judging by the light filtering through the dusty window I had plenty of time to prepare myself before going out.
I didn’t really need anything though, not as Ardua.
I looked to Rikaad, he was now king so he probably had to give the okay.
I Wasn’t really sure how this worked.
He nodded and stood up.
“I think that is the best we can come up with, at least for now, and the sooner we find out what is causing this the better.
We could also renovate this place a bit till you come back”
A smile sneaked its way onto my face, I didn’t dare show teeth though.
“That would be nice, well then i better go there as soon as i can right?”
Before anyone could answer there was a knock on the door and a somewhat familiar face entered, it was that Guard guy, Norrin.
“I deeply apologize for disturbing you, but we arrested someone that said he knew you? He looks rather weird though”
Someone weird looking? I was admittedly the weirdest thing in Kamerasca, even before all of this, so who could that be?
“How weird are we talking about? And what’s his name?”
Even Rikaad seemed a tad confused, I doubted that he knew many weird people anyway.
“He did not say his name but instead of arms he has wings, he also got a tail-”
He did not get to finish his sentence as we had all stood up and ran past him out the door.
There was no one else we knew with that features besides Oakley, So it had to be him.
PREVIOUS / NEXT / OVERSIGHT
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sashaisready · 9 months
Text
Chapter One
Lee Bodecker (The Devil All The Time) x Femme Reader
A year after the sudden death of your husband you find yourself at a loose end, unsure what to do next. You're also learning about your sexuality - your hidden desires and fantasies creeping out now you're no longer playing the role of the good wife. A certain Sheriff in town could be the one to awaken something in you...
Series Masterlist
Chapter 2
Warnings: sexual references, references to death of a spouse, reader feeling shame for sexual urges
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You've always enjoyed sex. Everything from the awkward fumbles with teenage boys in your youth, to consummating your marriage with Arthur. You liked the thrill of knowing what was to come, the warm feelings slowly building in your stomach, the anticipation of knowing where the initial kisses were leading. You liked the way warm hands felt on your bare skin, how lips felt pressed against your neck. You liked sweet nothings in your ear, the feeling of him between your legs, knowing he was seconds from filling you as he lined himself up.
You didn't understand the other wives who joked about not liking it, squealing with laughter at long lunches over cheap wine. They spoke about laying back and letting their husbands get on with it as they made grocery lists in their heads. You felt different, not wanting to share that you were an active participant, often initiating it yourself. Wearing lingerie to entice him, exploring yourself with your fingers to learn how your body responds. They would think you were some sort of a whore, a sex crazed maniac who can't control her hormones. It wasn't very ladylike.
In the early days of your marriage you spent many an evening with Arthur exploring each other's bodies and discovering what felt good for you both. It took you a bit of time to work out what you liked, how you liked to be touched, and guiding Arthur accordingly. You learnt a lot about how the male body responded too. But it was worth it, and you'd both enjoy the trial and error. He'd worship at the altar of your body, pleasuring you with tenderness and care as he took his time bringing you across the finish line. He was a tender lover, sex for him was a physical representation of your love.
Sometimes you wanted it harder. You'd ask him to use more force, or go faster, or if he could describe what he wanted to do to your body as he did it. You told him you liked it when he put his full weight on you, that you'd like him to tug on your hair. Once you asked him if he'd like to finish in your mouth, or across your breasts.
But he didn't like it. He didn't want to be rough in case he hurt you. He didn't want to be crass and disrespect you.
"You're my wife, sweetie" he would say, his brows furrowed with concern. "I love you. I respect you. I don't want to treat you like a whore".
You would feel deep shame at that. Wondering if there was something wrong with you, for asking your husband to do such things. For thinking of them. For desiring them. So many wives would bite your hand off to have a husband like yours, a husband who touched you so tenderly. How could you be so ungrateful?
So you stopped asking. You would make love to him, and it was always making love rather than sex, gratefully accepting the worship he offered. The classic missionary position as he looked lovingly into your eyes. You wouldn't always climax, but that was alright. You enjoyed trying, and appreciated the effort he made. You'd never describe what you did as fucking. But you did want to be fucked, even though you were too nervous to tell him.
Over the years as you settled into your marriage and each other, your physical intimacy dwindled. He would still kiss you goodbye when he left for work of course, snaking his arms around your waist as you cooked for him, giving you a peck on the cheek in public. But sex became a rare event. Birthdays. Christmas. Anniversaries. Valentine's Day. Sometimes after a few too many drinks. It became perfunctory, an item on your couple to-do list - alongside painting the fence or baking a cake. It was always nice of course. Nice was very much the word. Never earth shattering. Never terrible. Always nice. You were like roommates, close friends, sharing a space and happily co-existing. You no longer felt like a wife, but a friend.
Once, you found an dog-eared, battered book stuck behind a shelf at the local library. It was an erotic novel. You snuck it out in your purse so the librarian wouldn't know. You hid it under a loose floorboard in the study and would read it during the day when Arthur was at work. It contained long, overwrought descriptions of graphic sexual acts and had hand drawn diagrams alongside them. You would find yourself blushing as you read some of the words and gasped at the positions in the illustrations, your mind blown that people did such things. That they even conceived of them! You would feel a warm flutter between your thighs as you read, occasionally slipping a finger between your folds and gasping at your slick as you withdrew, glistening in the light.
The best part was that all the women in the book all loved sex. They were not ashamed. They enjoyed feeling pleasure, they enjoyed the hedonism. You knew they weren't real, and this was most likely all written by a man, but it comforted you anyway - that women could maybe feel like that. Like you. Like maybe it wasn't such a terrible thing to enjoy different types of sex, and to desire different things to your husband.
Towards the end, in the lead up the Event, you would go to bed early as Arthur watched television downstairs. You would think of movie stars, of former boyfriends. Sometimes even men you saw in town. In your mind you'd insert them into the passages from your filthy book. Your brain became the world's lewdest playwright. You'd touch yourself as you fantasised about all the things these men did with you. TO you. Your fingers would circle frantically across your clitoris, the intensity within building and building.
How rough they were. How feral they were. Mainly you thought about how much they desired you. You were the most important thing in the world to them in that moment. Their eyes burning with passion and deep lust for you. You were the personification of what they craved. Arthur never looked at you like that. In these fantasies you'd be well and truly fucked, your body ruined as you came apart, there'd be no sign of what you and Arthur did together.
Eventually you'd muffle your cries into your pillow as you climaxed. Your body shaking as you rode each wave. You never slept better than you did on those nights. Something about having Arthur downstairs, blissfully unaware of what you were doing above his head, made it even more tantalising.
Although you would feel guilt when he eventually came to bed. He'd kiss you on the forehead and whisper good night. The familiar shame would return. It felt as if you were betraying him. But you couldn't help yourself.
And now he was gone. The car crash, or the Event as you referred to it, had taken your husband. One moment he was driving to work and the next, the local police were knocking on your door. You knew something had happened to him as they'd taken their hats off before you'd even opened the door. You missed him deeply every day. Not as a lover, but as your best friend.
Nobody in your lives knew that your marriage was essentially over when Arthur died. That you were both just comfortably going through the motions. You had been weighing up if you should leave a few weeks beforehand. Was this life was going to be enough for you for the rest of your days? You missed passion, you missed being in love - rather than just loving someone, only ever feeling platonic fondness.
It wasn't really something you could bring up during the funeral plans as your family fussed over you. They'd all driven down in convoy, descending on you and enveloping you. It was all too much. The way he died. How sudden it was. The only person you could really talk to was gone, and you couldn't even tell him all of it when he was here. Despite how you rarely had an hour to yourself during that initial aftermath, you felt very alone in the world.
You had a moment at the funeral where you realised you couldn't remember the last time you and Arthur had made love before he died. Your heart ached, wishing you could've known it was the last time - to hold him a little closer, to kiss him a little deeper. And now you couldn't even remember it.
The funeral and all the administration that comes with a sudden loss came and went in a flash. The town treated you well after the Event, a sea of well-meaning neighbours brought endless casseroles and pies to your door. Your freezer still had some in even now.
Sheriff Lee Bodecker had been a friendly face, although you didn't know him very well. He was there when they told you about Arthur, catching you when your knees buckled. He would pop by occasionally to check in on you, but you wondered if that was also to help his re-election chances. He had been on the charm offensive since his divorce, working hard to remind Knockemstiff he was a good guy. But you weren't sure about him. Something wasn't...right. You couldn't put your finger on it. You thought he was handsome. He said all the right things. Part of you wondered if you were afraid of him, despite him never giving you a reason to be.
There was also deputy Davey who often accompanied the Sheriff. You liked him much more. He had a warm, welcoming face - rounded rosy cheeks, kind brown eyes. Always said sweet things to you, he had a comforting presence like some people just do. Like it's innate. He was married to Julie who you didn't really know but had always been warm towards you. She held your hand once in the grocery store. She had seen you crying in one of the aisles a few weeks after the Event and just did it. Didn't even say anything, just quietly held your hand. You trusted both of the Daveys. You'd heard through town gossip that they were having trouble getting pregnant, and hoped they would get there in the end.
After the funeral you withdrew into yourself. Arthur was a sensible man and his savings and life insurance meant you were taken care of financially which you thanked him every day for. The house was paid off now thanks to the big payout. Part of the reason you had moved to Knockemstiff after you got married was because property was cheaper and Arthur thought it was a good investment. He was right, as always. Now you got a small cheque every week which more than covered your essentials. Not having to worry about money during all this was a huge blessing.
It had been nearly a year since the Event and you were at a loose end. You'd wondered if you should sell the house and start over somewhere new. Somewhere not haunted by memories of your deceased husband across every square foot. But you didn't know where to go or where to begin. The world was overwhelming to you. You had never been by yourself before, you didn't know how to navigate it.
You made small talk with the locals, occasionally going to church bake sales or town celebrations. But you didn't really have any friends there. Not anymore. Some of the women were still shooting you the same sympathetic half smiles they had been treating you to since Arthur's death. They had fear in their eyes. They didn't know how to deal with you. It was as if you were contagious and you might somehow kill their husbands just by being in their very presence. Your identity was just The Widow and that was who you were to them.
You had recently started doing a couple of shifts every week in the diner. You didn't need the cash, but it was nice to have a purpose - even if that purpose was carrying plates and making milkshakes. Being with people again was nice too. It felt odd, but it was nice. Good to be out of that house. Most of the town still kept you at arm's length but a few of the regulars had warmed up. The high school kids didn't care who you were and would playfully tease you about your apron, and you'd playfully tease back about them only nursing two cokes between the six of them. Some of the old fellas would talk to you about the weather, then insist of giving you a big tip because you always got their coffee just right. You could slowly feel yourself thawing out, coming back to the world again.
Sheriff Bodecker would come in sometimes too. You wouldn't talk much, Gina the other waitress often waited on him just because she always did, and she knew what he liked. Sometimes you could swear that he would be peering over at you during your shifts. But you never knew if that was just your imagination.
At night you still touched yourself, reading the illicit book openly now Arthur had gone. You mewled loudly as you came against your hand - no longer needing to restrain your moans. But you desperately missed sleeping alongside a warm body. You were desperate for the touch of another person. Every inch of you starved for physical affection. You sometimes had dreams where Arthur casually walked back through the front door and climbed into bed with you, telling you it had all been a big mistake and he was fine - he was home now. He'd pull you into his arms and you'd wake up, bereft, as if you'd lost him all over again.
The players in your fantasies were in a steady rotation. Sometimes movie stars, sometimes that muscular man you'd once seen loading a delivery van outside of the town bakery. Sometimes it was an old teenage boyfriend who made you cum for the first time in the backseat of his car.
Tonight you were at it again, reading your book and thinking about your various dream men as you neared your climax. You were surprised that just as you began to come undone who else but Sheriff Bodecker popped into your head. His shocking blue eyes staring back at you. His strong arms wrapped around your body, holding you down. Your wrists restrained by his handcuffs as he explored you with his mouth. The gentle swell of his belly warm against your flesh. You suddenly came hard, crying out and shuddering.
You sat up, confused at your own subconscious as you came out of your post orgasm haze. That was a surprise.
If only you'd known what lay ahead for you. All thanks to that damn library.
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