#but I did try to have him 'attach' to Arthur at the parts of the brain corresponding to sight and moving the left arm? I like that detail

[spacetimeaccordionfolder]

Jon, Arthur, and Erin and their respective eldritch/ primordial entities that are attached to them somehow. (click for better quality)

partly inspired by various fan arts I keep seeing of John and Arthur interacting with Jonathan Sims the Archivist. I was thinking about who it would be funny to draw Arthur and John with and thought about Erin and the Void Dragon (plus a few other characters but I wanted to post what I had here). Please imagine John just "Aurthur! there's an entity attached to him too! Orthur this is dangerous!" The Void Dragon is wondering if he can set Arthur on fire yet.

[fastandcarlos]

The Never Ending Night : ̗̀➛ Charles LeClerc

summary: as your best friend arthur's party comes to an end, you're left with his brother charles together, wondering what could be

Your smile was soft as you bid goodnight to Arthur, watching him walk back into the family home. It was the home of the LeClercs, but as your childhood friend headed up the stairs, it was just as good your home too. 

Which was why as you glanced across at Charles beside you, you felt no urgency to excuse yourself either.  

You’d spent years around Arthur and his entire family, been treated as if you were a part of it, invited in without second thought during some of your most difficult times. 

Charles especially was the sibling you found yourself pulled towards the most. When Arthur wasn’t around, he always stepped up for you and offered to help you out whenever you needed someone. Although you were closest with Arthur, Charles was a pretty close second. 

It didn’t bother him at all that you were still sat as he took a sip of the beer in his hand. He was used to spending time with you, even as the last two standing at the party, Charles knew you could carry on together all night long. 

Both of you were undeniably a little bit tipsy, your words not coming quite as easily as they usually did. Before you knew it you were sat on the two-seater sofa that Charles had commandeered, his arm draped across your shoulders as you both sat overlooking the large garden of the LeClerc family. 

The longer you were with Charles, the more comfortable you got. Your body slowly relaxed into his side, feeling his head rest on the top of your own. Charles’ hand rested on your bicep, his fingers catching onto the goosebumps that were on your arm as a result of the chilly air. 

You could feel his eyes staring down at you the longer that time passed. Fear got the better of you, holding you back from looking back to Charles. 

The more you settled, the more Charles’ confidence grew. His lips soon pressed against the top of your head, arm tightening to pull you even closer to his side. 

It was at this moment you glanced up, a lump running down your throat as your eyes met Charles’. Before you could look away, Charles leant down and pressed his lips to your own, hand moving to cup the side of his face. 

The kiss was softer than you ever could have ever imagined, it wasn’t the intense affair you imagined it would be, instead it was full of love, emotion, far from what you expected from Charles.  

As you pulled away, neither of you quite knew what to say. You both were aware you had overstepped the threshold; your many years of friendship had a new label attached, but neither of you quite knew what that label was. 

Whatever it was, it felt right. For both of you. Neither of you could disguise the smiles that were on your faces, your eyes drawn to each other’s and unable to look away. 

“What do we do?” Charles whispered to you, breaking the silence, brushing the pad of his thumb across your cheek delicately. 

Your shoulders shrugged, if you were truthful, you had no idea. Just a few metres away you knew Arthur was nearby, unaware of the events unfolding outside, the events taking place between two of the most significant people in his life. 

“I can’t stay here all night,” you whispered, momentarily glancing down at your watch realising just how late it was. Charles’ smile dropped as you spoke, taking a look at his own watch too. 

“Why not? You’ve stayed here a thousand times before,” he reminded you, refusing to let go of the hold that he had on you. “I’m sure there’s somewhere in the house you could sleep.” 

“I know exactly where you’d want me to stay,” you chuckled, knowing Charles all too well. His head nodded, how could he not with the adrenaline of your kiss soaring through his body.  

Your eyes fluttered shut, trying to straighten your thoughts. Unlike you, Charles knew exactly what he wanted though. “Please, just stay. We don’t have to talk, or figure things out, all we have to do is just sleep.” 

“I don’t know Charles,” you whispered, struggling to make up your mind, jumping left and right as you toyed with the idea of staying and the idea of running away and blocking out what had just happened. 

“I’ve always liked you,” he admitted, laying his heart out on the line for you. “If it helps, I’m serious about whatever this is Y/N, this isn’t some game to me, I’m not looking to mess with you or hurt you.” 

“I don’t know,” you whispered, only to be cut off by the feeling of Charles kissing your lips again.  

Charles was expecting you to push away, but you didn’t. You couldn’t. Despite how much you want to ignore Charles, he was an irresistible force pulling you back in. 

“Stay the night,” Charles asked you as he pulled away, pressing his forehead against yours, “there’s no harm in that, right?” 

As your head shook, Charles intertwined his hand in with yours, standing himself from the sofa and guiding you to do the same. 

Your footsteps were slow as you followed behind Charles, allowing him to lead you through the house and up to the room that he still called your own. The two of you were silent, aware of people on either side of the house, waiting until you got into Charles’ room to make any sort of noise. 

Charles’ arms wrapped around your waist as soon as the door shut, showing you the way to where his bed was. He laid you down before dropping down beside you, his hand in yours, but distance between you both. He didn’t want to rush anything, showing you what he promised you, following your lead. 

What Charles showed you was everything you needed if your mind wasn’t already made up, deciding to roll across and rest your head against his arm, draping your arm across his stomach. 

“I’m not going to regret this, am I? We’re not messing up, right?” You asked Charles. 

“I’d never let us mess up,” Charles assured you, resting the side of his head against your own. “I want you here, not just because you’re Arthur’s friend, but because I really care about you too.” 

Your head nodded taking in everything that Charles had to say to you. You weren’t sure whether this was a long thing, a short thing, or a just for tonight thing, but whatever was happening between you and Charles felt like the right thing to do, whatever it was going to be. 

Neither of you had the answer right now, but you knew that you had many questions that needed answering over the days that came. 

“Thank you for staying,” Charles whispered as he came face to face with you, noticing how nervous you looked. 

“You make it pretty hard to say no,” you laughed, “that stupid LeClerc charm.” 

Charles scoffed at your response, kissing against the tip of his nose. Arthur had pulled you in many years ago, and now Charles had you where he’d wanted you for so long. 

“Do you want to sleep?” Charles offered, glancing out at the night sky through his open window. 

Your head shook, much to his surprise. “Do you mind if we just lay here? I don’t think I want this night to end yet.” 

Charles hummed, happy to stay up with you for as long as you wanted him, holding onto the feeling of having you there with him. 

“I’ll stay here all night long with you.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[nemesis-is-my-middle-name]

[ @dargonics: Yeah I have thought about this as well. The boring answer to it all is narrative cohesion allows for leeway. The cooler answer is that perhaps the eyes are inconsequential and just collateral. John's type might have different rules in regards to how he senses things. He already perceives things as no human would. That could also just be Arthur's body changing too like with the visions he got post-coma. But we also have to think about other senses that are present for John like hearing. Touch is only the parts he controls and olfactory seems non-existent. So I wonder why hearing is ok? We also have Larson and Yellow that completely negate the idea that there needs to be an exchange. ]

YEAH i was actually also just thinking abt this earlier! larson and yellow appear to share both sound and sight, which suggests that the current understanding they have of john having stolen arthur's vision is not necessarily correct. i think it might be that john does have control over arthur's eyes, since he has use of peripherals like crying, but that might be entirely unrelated to his own ability to see.

headcanon semi-related to the "john may not actually need their eyes to be open to see" thing and also how people can apparently see just by looking at them that something's wrong with arthur's vision: what if john actually has no concept of "focusing" their eyes. he perceives their entire field of view in the exact same level of clarity all at once. john decides where their eyes are pointed as with the rest of the body parts he controls but also has no particular need to look in any direction other than neutrally forward, so he doesn't, which leads to the uncanny impression that arthur never looks directly at any one thing and yet can read and perceive other visual details with ease regardless. somehow.

[daisyblog]

Angel Baby

Too Young Masterlist Summary: Louis and YN welcome their second baby, and Arthur becomes a big brother.

warning: childbirth, labour, birth, hospital

9th of September 2024

If Louis was glad he made any decision in life, he was thankful that he decided to come straight home from the festival in Munich. He had managed to sleep for a little bit on the flight home but he couldn’t wait to get into bed next to YN and wake up with Arthur in the morning.

Spotting Harry’s car on the driveway wasn’t unusual because he would often stay with YN and Arthur when Louis was away. Opening the front door, Louis was trying to open the door as quietly as possible, not wanting to disturb anyone.

The dim light that was on in the living room caught Louis eye. But what surprised him was YN and Harry wide awake. YN was sat on the birthing ball and Harry on the edge of the sofa.

“Hey! Is everything alright?”. Louis walked further into the room, walking closer to YN as he placed a peck to her forehead, aware Harry was in the room.

“I’m having contractions but worry pants over here”. YN signaled towards Harry with her thumb. “Thinks I’m about to give birth within the next five minutes the way he’s been frantically phoning everyone”.

“M’sorry for being worried about my sister”. Harry joked as he looked to Louis for some back up.

“To be fair love, Harry was only looking after you”. Louis kneeled down in front of YN as she still sat on the large grey ball. “How painful are they?”.

YN knew he was referring to the contractions, as he gently rubbed his hand over her thigh. “They’re manageable at the moment”.

“Well we’ll keep timing them and let the hospital know when you need to go in”. Louis smiled up at YN who shared the same look. “We’re having a baby!”.

---

Within two hours, the contraction had become quite intense. YN felt her tummy tighten as the pain spread from her bump around to her back.

“Birth scares me”. Harry voiced as he watched his sister cling to Louis. Her arms were wrapped around his neck and her head burned into his shoulder as she breathed through the pain.

“Keep breathing through it babe…you’re doing amazing”. Louis rubbed her back and kissed the side of her head.

As the contraction ended YN sat back up straight as she took a rest in between. Knowing another one could hit her at any point. “I’m sure I said that you could give birth this time”.

Louis chuckled as he remembered the conversation during Arthur’s birth. “You did…but I didn’t think there would be a next time then…and also I don’t have the right body parts”.

“I forgot how painful this was”. YN held onto Louis’ hand as she prepared for the next one.

---

“I can’t do this…I can’t do this”. YN repeated as she sat on the edge of the sofa, Harry now being the victim of the famous hand squeeze.

“You can…you did it once and you’re going to make Arthur so proud when he finds out you’ve given him everything he’s ever wanted”. Harry encouraged, knowing mentioning Arthur would help.

“I can feel another one”. YN tensed up as she anticipated the pain. Her eyes closed tight as she dreamed about when she would have gas and air at the hospital.

Louis appeared with a bottle of water just in time as he cringed at how tight YN was squeezing her brothers hand.

---

Harry stayed at the house to look after Arthur, whilst YN and Louis were at the hospital. Anne was on her way but this was the downside of living so far away from her Mum.

Like she had done many years ago, YN kept the gas and air nozzle securely in her hand sucking on it probably more than she needed to.

“Do you have any children already? Or is this your first?”. The midwife asked as she sat in the room wi the couple.

“We have a little boy, Arthur…he’s nine”. Louis couldn’t hide his smile as he spoke about their son, and showed her a quick photo of him.

The midwife’s eyes widened. “Waw! He’s the image of you…perhaps this one will look like Mummy”.

---

YN was laying on the bed, the nozzle still attached to her hand. Louis was moving the hair out of her face as she now had a layer of sweat covering her forehead.

“YN I’m so sorry my darling…but we’re going to have to break your waters because your contraction are starting to slow down”. The midwife’s voice was full of sympathy, knowing how painful it could be.

With the tool in her hand ready, YN held onto Louis tightly. “You’re so strong and I’m so proud of you”.

The pain was something YN hadn’t felt before. “AHHH!”. She cried out in pain as she felt the water burst from her.

“You were amazing darling…keep sucking that gas and air for me”. The midwife gave an encouraging smile.

---

The contraction become more frequent and YN could not keep still as she moved from different positions. If she was not bouncing on the ball, she was sat in the chair next to the bed. If she was not in the birthing pool, she was clinging onto Louis, hoping it would ease the pressure.

As Louis massaged the bottom of YN’s back, getting a sense of deja vu, he felt her tense up more than she had been.

“Babe? You alright?”. He swallowed thickly, as YN froze.

“I think…I think I can feel the baby”. At the words, the midwife shot up from her seat and quickly glanced under YN’s gown.

“Lie down on the bed for me…baby’s head is crowning”. The midwife moved around the room quickly gathering everything she needed.

YN laid down like she was told, her legs up in the correct position, trying to relax as she was about to meet her baby.

---

“Baby’s head is out…and I think in about three to four pushes, you’re going to be cuddling your little baby”. The midwife spoke from her position at the end of the hospital bed.

Louis quickly glanced down and could see his baby’s head. Seeing his babies be born was something he found breathtaking and he was in absolute awe of YN for doing it.

YN found strength within and began to push. She repeated the action over and over. Louis was by her side as he waited for the sound to fill the room.

And the sound of a newborn cry finally filled the room, as tears ran down Louis and YN’s cheeks when the little one was placed on YN’s chest.

“I’m so proud of you…and I love you so much”. Louis left several kisses on YN’s head before the final one on her lips.

“I couldn’t have done it without you…I love you”. YN’s voice was tired but the adrenaline was pumping through her.

“Mummy and Daddy love you little one”. YN gently kissed the newborns head.

---

YN couldn’t decide who was more excited as Arthur, Harry and her Mum walked through the hospital room door.

Arthur ran straight to his Mum, who was laid underneath a blanket. “I’ve missed you my boy”. She wrapped her arms around him.

“I’ve missed you too Mum…I’ve been nagging Uncle Harry to come and see you”. Arthur held onto his mother for longer.

Harry and Anne hugged YN and congratulated her and Louis on the birth of their baby. The room was full of happiness and smiles as they looked at the little baby in Louis’ arms.

“Hey lad…do you want to have your first big brother cuddle?”. Louis felt his heart melt as Arthur eagerly nodded and ran over to his father’s side.

Arthur sat in the chair, waiting for Louis to place the newborn into his arms. The minute Louis placed the baby into Arthur’s hands, the four adults all shared a loving look, and wiped the tears away from their cheeks.

“Hi baby…I’m Arthur, your big brother”. Louis and YN shared a look as they knew this was the right time to share the news.

“And this is Elsie…your little sister”.

---

ynstyles and louist91

liked by lottietomlinson, annetwist and 1,672,665 others

ynstyles Our babies🤍Welcome to the world Elsie Johannah Tomlinson🩷 View all 10,733 comments

lottietomlinson Our sweet Arthur and Elsie🥹🤍

annetwist My heart could burst❤️I’m one lucky Nanny🩵🩷🩷 ⌞ynstyles The absolute best🥰❤️

the.daisytomlinson I love being an auntie to all these babies❤️

thephoebetomlinson my beautiful nephew and niece🩵🩷Auntie Phee loves you lots xx

gemmastyles We are so lucky❤️Aunties little cuties xx

louisfan5 OMG THE BABY IS HERE!!!

louisfan3 Louis a girl dad🩷🩷🩷

harryfan9 Harry is an uncle to another girl🥹💕

Taglist :@jillsvalentinex @itsmytimetoodream @peterholland04 @youcan-nolonger-run @chronicallybubbly @macy-tpwk @wh0s-nadii @lillisummers

[hihomeghere]

Could you do prompt 30 & 50 for Arthur, please and thank you ^_^!

Hope you enjoy! Word count : 1.7k Prompts : #30 I just want to be yours. #50 We need to talk about last night Warnings/tags : unprotected piv, cursing, talk of sex workers in the time period, friends with benefits

The agreement you had with Arthur was pretty straightforward. You were close friends, friends who also knew each other more intimately than friends should. Your agreement had begun after a rough job the two of you had gone on. Both full of adrenaline and anger after almost everything had gone wrong. Breathing hard, hiding from the law in a tiny cabin, tension was high.

It’s not like you hadn’t noticed him in that way before. He was a conventionally attractive man. Tall, muscular, ruggedly good looks.

And you both needed some relief, and you certainly weren’t complaining. As much as he put off a tough guy facade, he was nothing but caring. Making sure you reached your peak multiple times before he did.

You knew you worked well together in the field, you didn’t know it would transfer so gracefully to the bedroom. Reading each other's minds and body. The small twitch of his lip when you pressed your nails into his biceps. The way his brows knit together when you tugged at his honey brown locks. The primal groan that ripped through his chest when you locked your legs around his hips.

It worked. The two of you always worked well together.

-

“Hey.” His hoarse voice pulled you out of your daze, setting the gun you were cleaning next to you.

“Yeah?” You asked, laying down your rag on your pistol. He shuffled from one foot to the other, his hand gripping his gun belt. His hat tipped low on his brow. “Need me?” You asked, leaning back on the crate you were sitting on. The sun beating down on the both of you, though his brim shaded the upper half of his face. For having this arrangement for so long, it surprised you how shy he was when he would ask.

“Need ya.” He nodded, holding his hand out for you to take. As much as you tried to deny it, your heart skipped a beat at the thought that he needed you. You, no one else. Even if it was only to scratch an itch.

You took his hand, letting him lead you into the trees. His heavy steps paved a way through the brush near camp. You had to admit you were giddy, a smile spreading across your face as he led you further away from the noise of camp. Following him anywhere he took you like a lovesick pup. As much as you tried to deny it, you were falling for him.

It was wrong, so wrong. You were breaking the first rule, no attachments. But Jesus, how could you not fall for him?

You accidentally walked straight into his broad back, not having noticed him stopping.

“Eager?” He chuckled softly, smirking at you over his shoulder. You scoffed, your cheeks heating up.

“You’re the one who asked.” You hummed, trying to hide your growing embarrassment.

“Yeah yeah, alright.” He mumbled rolling his eyes playfully as his large hands found purchase on your waist. He walked you backwards until your back rubbed against the bark of a tree. Successfully pinning you between him and the birch. His knee immediately nudged its way up between your thighs. You let out a soft gasp, which he quickly swallowed as his mouth covered yours. He pressed his knee up against you, grinding against the most sensitive part of you. You couldn’t help but moan softly into his mouth, electricity shooting through your veins as he rubbed against you. He made quick work of his gun belt, dropping it to the grassy floor. Your hands threaded through his hair, something you had learned he loved, giving it a small tug.

He groaned into your mouth, which gave you the perfect opportunity to slip your tongue inside.

It wasn’t some sweet embrace, it was the clashing of tongue and teeth as he rocked you back and forth on his knee. Electricity shooting through your body as he bumped against your clit.

“Shit- c’mon Arthur.” You moaned feeling wetness gather in your bloomers. He moved down your jaw, leaving open mouthed kisses in his wake. He pulled away, his deft fingers worked on pulling himself out of his pants. While you shimmied out of your bloomers. His calloused hands landed on your waist, turning you around. He flipped up your skirts like you were some common whore, but you didn’t mind one bit. You pressed your backside against him as you leaned against the tree, feeling the hard line of his cock against you.

He spit into his hand, the sound obscene and yet so arousing. You waited, his body nearly engulfed yours as he leaned over you, his hand on your hip. He guided the head of his cock between your folds, pressing into you with a groan.

“Always so damn tight.” He muttered through gritted teeth, pulling you back against his chest. You thought you would get used to being filled by him by now. But every time it felt like you were being stuffed, feeling every ridge and vein of his length as he bottomed out. Giving you a breath or two to get used to his size before pulling nearly all the way out and slamming back into you.

Your mouth fell open as a cry left your lips, Arthur’s hand quick to muffle the sound. Those noises were for him only. It was like he was made for you, you knew that was a dangerous thought to have but you couldn’t help it. The way he rubbed up against those delicious spots inside you so effortlessly. Taking you to the precipice of pleasure as moans fell from you unabashedly.

Like a lightning strike, your orgasm hit you fast and unexpectedly. Holding onto the trunk of the tree as your legs nearly gave out from under you.

“Feel too damn good girl-“ He choked, driving into you with a near bruising pace as your walls fluttered around him.

“Shit-““ he bit down on your shoulder as he quickly pulled out. A low moan leaving his lip as his seed painted your backside. Panting, he pulled your bloomers back up and over your ass, his hand trailing reverently up your shaky legs. You hummed to yourself, basking in the afterglow as he returned the two of you to your prior state. You stood back up, using the tree as leverage as you turned to look back at him.

A beautiful flush had crawled up his neck, that you were just itching to reach out and kiss. But you didn’t, because you didn’t do anything afterwards. You hardly looked at each other afterwards. Like it would break the spell of the arrangement. That you would realize you were toeing the line between friends and something more a little too closely. So instead you leaned up against the tree and watched him buckle his gun belt low on his hips. He strode over to you, his hand finding your hip as he placed a kiss on your forehead before walking back towards camp.

You wouldn’t realize until you were getting ready for bed, that he had slipped a bill into your skirt pocket.

-

You left your tent in a damn near rage the following morning. Shame and disgust mixed inside you as you searched for Arthur. Did he really think he could treat you like some… some working girl? You weren’t selling yourself to him, just like he wasn’t selling himself to you.

The arrangement had worked for so long and he just had to go and ruin it?

You found him near the coffee pot, along with some other gang members.

“Arthur.” You said, your tone cold as you stood next to him.

“Y/n.” He replied, sipping his coffee. You didn’t miss the way Mary Beth side eyed Tilly. Although you couldn’t give two shits who knew you were pissed.

“We need to talk,” you said in a low tone. He raised an eyebrow giving you a questioning look. “About last night.” You huffed. He nodded, tossing the rest of his coffee out onto the grass before motioning for you to lead the way. You walked over to the edge of the trees, his footsteps heavy behind you.

“Well go on, out with it.” He said with a sigh, his hands resting on his belt.

“What the hell is this?” You asked, holding up the five dollar bill, “I ain’t offering you any services.” You hissed stuffing the bill back into his front pocket.

He recoiled, his eyes narrowing as you stuffed the bill into his shirt. “I know that.” He huffed, “I ain’t- I didn’t give it to you as payment.” He said clenching his jaw as he pulled the money out of his pocket.

“Then why the hell did you give it to me? No- why the hell did you hide it in my pocket?” You asked, narrowing your eyes.

He sighed looking down at his feet, “Damn it, Morgan.” He muttered under his breath, shaking his head. “I just- I just keep takin from ya.” He said, running his hand through his hair, “I just wanted to give you somethin’. Somethin’ for puttin up with the likes of me.” He hung his head, clenching his jaw.

“You think I’m just putting up with you?” You scoffed, your frustration at a boiling point, “I don’t want your money, I don’t want anything from you, I just want to be yours!” You cried, feeling hot tears sting your eyes as the damn broke, unable to hold your feelings back.

His head snapped up, his eyes locking onto yours as his mouth fell open.

“W-what?” He asked, his voice hoarse as he stared at you in disbelief.

“I don’t-“ you sighed crossing your arms, “I don’t want anything from you. I just want you.” You said, biting your lip as you stared into his cool blue pools. Arthur was frozen, for a moment it looked like he had stopped breathing. Then his brain finally caught up, he took three steps and pulled you into his arms. One hand on your hip while the other cupped your cheek, pulling you into him as his lips crashed against yours.

You froze, but only for a moment before you reached up, cupping his cheeks as your lips moved against his.

“Darlin,” He whispered, pulling away from you as the biggest grin spread across his face. “You’ve had me for a long time.”

Prompt list

[mediocrecowboyhat]

Set in sand - Chapter 11

We mark the year 1934 and a peculiar journal falls into your hands. It's telling the tale of an outlaw and the downfall of a gang. Some pages are torn and others are downright unreadable, but nevertheless, you are still able to make out some parts of the tragic story.

With the help of a certain time traveler friend of yours, will you be able to save the author of the journal or will you be the cause for his demise?

Previous chapter - Next chapter

Word count: 5.1k

TW: end-game spoilers will be mentioned very early on in the story, 18+ MDNI, sexual themes, violence, gore, death, misogynistic themes (anything that happens in the game as well), she/her pronouns

As discussed, you find yourself together with Arthur at a stable near Rhodes and are currently looking at a variety of horses. There's not much you can say except that they all look gorgeous.

The outlaw who brought you here on his Tennessee Walker is engrossed in a conversation with the stable owner.

"We was thinkin' of somethin' strong.", Arthur says and the owner points at a particularly large one.

"We got a nice Shire right over here."

You inspect the horse a bit further. It looks absolutely stunning (they all do), but you're not so sure about that pick. "It's a bit big, don't you think?"

"Yes, you're right.", Arthur agrees and rubs his chin with his hand in a thoughtful manner.

"I see. You're lookin' for somethin' smaller then?", the owner asks and you both nod.

"Yea, a sturdy, but fast horse. Not too small of course.", Arthur adds and the man nods.

You and him had discussed what you were looking for before leaving camp this morning. Riding is something you're pretty familiar with by now, but you still don't feel confident enough to get a racing horse or anything like that.

Besides, Arthur had suggested for you to look into one more on the hefty side for the times when you get into trouble. It was a good argument.

"How about this Andalusian. She's young, muscular and listens well." The owner walks towards a medium-sized dark horse and gives her neck a good pat.

Yes, you liked the look of her ever since you walked into the building. You've had your eyes on her almost the entire time as if you knew that she's the one. Much to your relief even Arthur looks satisfied.

"It's a good war horse.", he tells you in a low voice and scratches his cheek. "How much is it?"

"$140. It's a good price for a fine girl like her."

That sum alone is way over your budget and let's not forget about the saddle you have to pay for as well. It breaks your heart knowing you have to settle for another horse when you've already grown so attached to the Andalusian.

"Do you have anything else?", you ask and try to mask your disappointment.

"Of course! How about that Kentucky Saddler over there?", he suggests while motioning with his chin behind you. "They're your standard riding horse. Nothin' special, but gets the job done."

The Kentucky Saddler is the smallest one in the stable in both height and muscle mass. It's definitely not your first (or second) choice, but that one has to do.

"How much?"

"Only $50. It's a steal, I'm tellin' ya, miss.", he says.

It's true. That price is perfect actually, because now you can afford a nice saddle. There is no need to settle for the cheapest one.

The same moment you open your mouth to declare your decision, Arthur chimes in. "We'll get the Andalusian."

Your eyes widen in horror as you face him. "What? Arthur, I don't have the money for that horse.", you hiss and he rummages through his satchel.

"Relax. I'll help you out with that."

He fishes out a stack of cash, more specifically the amount that is exceeding your budget and hands it over to the stable owner. The man let's out a satisfied hum after counting the money and his eyes fall on you.

Your gaze is still sternly set on Arthur as you pay for the rest. It's almost surreal that he just did that.

"I'll get the horse and papers ready for y'all." With that the owner scurries towards the back of the stable and you turn to Arthur.

"What were you thinking?"

"That's a strange way of thankin' a man.", he comments amused and you sigh.

"Of course I'm thankful, Arthur, but I don't want you to waste your money on me. At least not that much", you hiss and he waves it off.

"First of all, I got more than enough and second of all, you need a horse. I don't want you ridin' 'round with a scrawny thing like that one.", he says, pointing at the Kentucky Saddler. "What I want is a decent horse that won't only do it's job, but keep you safe durin' it as well."

His words shake you to your core and you simply stare at him without saying anything. At this point, you can't even begin to count the amount of times he has helped you. It's safe to say that you owe him a lot more than just money.

"She's ready now, miss." The owner hands you some documents and your eyes trail over the words before you nod.

After getting all this done and leaving the stables with Arthur, another question arises. What will you name her?

It's a war horse, so you're thinking about maybe choosing a goddess like Athena or Minerva, but that seems a bit...well, plain. Then suddenly a story comes to mind. The Tojan War more specifically and the Amazon Queen Penthesilea.

Granted, it's a long name and not one that rolls off your tongue easily like Minerva, but you like it. In the story, she died by Achilles' hand and yet he mourned her, because she admired her for her skill and bravery.

The more you contemplate it, the fonder you grow of the name and you give the Andalusian a soft pat. She's beautiful and now she's yours.

Riding her is easy as cake to say the least. It's hard to say if it's because of her nature or if you're having a better time steering and giving commands knowing it's your horse.

Throughout the entire ride home, you can't shake off the wide grin that is glued to your face and you hitch Penthesilea at one of the posts. At some point in the near future you'll have to come up with a nickname for when you call out to her.

Yelling the whole name is going to take too long and by the time you're done you might get shot or something. You don't like the prospect of ending up like Swiss cheese, because you decided to go a bit overboard with naming your horse.

"Thank you again, Arthur. This...I can't begin to explain how much it means to me.", you say to the outlaw and your voice is trembling slightly from how much his gesture moves you.

He places his hands on his weapon belt and kicks a pebble away. "It's nothin', really. I'm just glad that you got a horse that will keep ya safe, is all."

As much as he tries to hide it behind his broody facade, you don't fail to notice how bashful you're making him just now. His ears are turning slightly pink and he shields his face with his black hat while keeping his eyes on the ground.

Something within you wants to tease him for that, but you decide that it would be better to leave him be. If you get too much on his nerves about this now then he might stop helping you out like this all together.

As you make your way with him through the camp, you hear Bill call out to the man from the other side. Him, Karen and Lenny are standing together next to a wagon and the two of you walk over to them.

"We got somethin' cooking that you might be interested in.", Bill says.

Arthur looks anything but convinced by his statement. "Am I gonna like the sound of that?"

"Been cookin' since Horseshoe, but you went and kicked up all that commotion in Valentine.", Bill explains as he paces around. "Now we was preparin' to rob the bank there until you got involved in all that nonsense and I don't know...I feel like it's unfinished business!"

Arthur leans against the wagon and waves around with his hand. "That wasn't my fault. It was just one of them things."

After saying that, Bill throws up his hands in the air and glares daggers at the outlaw. "How come everytime I get in trouble, I'm called a fool and an idiot, but when you get it trouble then oh it's just one of them things."

"It's a good point, Arthur.", Lenny chimes in almost immediately and even Karen crosses her arms infront of her chest.

"A very good point.", she mumbles under her breath and the outlaw's eyes go wide.

His gaze searches for yours and his expression makes it clear that he's looking for support from you, but you shrug. "Hey, don't look at me like that. They're kinda right, you know."

Upon hearing that he gestures as if he's throwing away something and clicks his tongue in irritation. You bite back a chuckle and exchange amused looks with Lenny.

"Well, what do y'all want me to do?", Arthur asks rather offended and Karen let's out a deep sigh as if he just asked for the answer to 1+1.

"Hit the goddamn bank with us!", she yells in a matter of fact way, but the outlaw laughs dryly.

"You think it's worth goin' back there?" His question sounds more rhetoric than genuine.

"The five of us can hit the bank easy, but I ain't gonna lie to you. The law will be on us if we linger."

Arthur furrows his eyebrows in confusion. "Five of us? Who else is comin'?"

All three of them look in your direction and you raise your brows in surprise. They want you to join? That makes you feel oddly touched to be honest. Now you know why Sadie reacted the way she did when you asked her to rob that coach with you.

You clear your throat to not have your voice betray your excitement. "I'd love to if you guys really want me there."

"Of course!", Karen exclaims, nudging your shoulder. "One of us goes in to create a distraction and the other stays outside. The men will look a lot less suspicious if they're waitin' with a woman."

That plan sounds solid actually. It makes sense and you nod. If you play your cards right then they might even let you go inside the bank to create a diversion. You've been wanting to improve your acting a bit.

Much to your relief, Arthur doesn't have anything to say against it. Granted, the look in his eyes is enough to tell you that he isn't quite in favor for it, but at least he doesn't voice it. It means he trusts you enough.

This day just keeps getting better and better.

"You mentioned the law.", Arthur speaks up again and Karen diverts her attention to him now.

"Nothin' serious, just local boys bein' rounded up and pressed into action. If we go in quick and quiet, we can hit it just fine.", she explains.

Lenny steps besides you and eyes you and Arthur up. "If there's five of us."

"And you guys think it's worth the risk?", you chime in.

There is no need for them to answer your question, because you were on board since they said they want you there, but you don't want to seem reckless. They don't have to believe that you're down to run head first into trouble just because they're including you in something.

It's the truth. That is happening right this moment, but still. They don't have to know.

"It's a bank.", Karen responds in a matter of fact way.

"But is the take good?", Arthur counters and you nod along. You already assume that it's more than good, but you want to show that you're thinking things through properly.

"According to the feller I met, yes. It's the end of the stock sales. Plenty of money and plenty of people millin' about."

Anticipation is hanging heavy in the air as the others await your final decision. Not that it's that difficult for you. "I'm in.", you say confidently.

A quick look in Arthur's direction tells you all you need to know. If there were any doubts in his mind then you got rid of them all with your answer. It makes you happy that your involvement is the tipping point for him.

"Alright.", the outlaw finally answers and the mood immediately lightens up.

It doesn't come as a surprise to you that they desperately want him in on this. If there's anything you've noticed during your time here then it's that when you bring Arthur with you to a job it's a guaranteed success.

"We should move in the mornin'. I'll just get out of these rags." Karen picks up a pile of clothes and hurries away.

With this the group splits up and you try to find something to keep you busy until tomorrow.

---

Even though you couldn't get any sleep last night, you feel refreshed and ready to take on the day. The excitement of the upcoming robbery is giving you all the energy you need and you meet up with the others at the hitching posts.

Karen is wearing a beautiful burgundy dress and the men seem to be all dressed in the exact same dark coat. No wonder they wanted another woman to tag along. They do look even more intimidating than usual.

This is also a great opportunity to take Penthesilea on a longer ride and bond with her. There is no other reason for you to leave camp except for paying Rhodes a visit, but that town isn't far away enough.

Getting to Valentine on the other hand is going to take half the day if not longer. You give your Andalusian an oatcake on which she happily munches on.

"Mr. Morgan!", you hear a familiar voice call out and you turn around to see Herr Strauss approaching the outlaw. "That man, the debtor, Thomas Downes. Apparently he's dead."

Dead?

"Dead? Huh. Well, he didnt seem very well.", Arthur mutters and scratches his cheek.

"His wife. I believe he has a wife and child. She will assume the debt of course.", the Austrian continues and Arthur nod.

"Of course."

"When you can, head up there and collect. We lent them a lot of money." With that Herr Strauss leaves and your group mount their horses.

Your mind wanders as you hoist yourself onto Penthesilea's back and follow the others onto the road outside of camp. It's strange that this Thomas Downes had died.

Yes, he didn't look too well last time you saw him, but well enough. Surely he would have lasted a few more weeks or even months. Maybe Arthur's threats had done more damage than you expected.

Whatever it is that cut the man's life short at the end, you know one thing for sure and that is that you want to be there when Arthur collects the debt. Obviously there is nothing to be worried about anymore with the sick man being gone and all, but you can't seem to shake off that uneasy feeling.

Something, a voice in the back of your mind, is telling you to join him when he goes there. It's hard to tell what exactly it is that's pulling you, but you simply have to listen to your gut.

Besides, you're wondering how Mr. Downes' family is holding up. They lost a loved one after all and perhaps your presence won't shake them up too much when Arthur throws around threats again.

Look at you trying to be a good person as if you don't have blood on your hands.

The ride to Valentine is being accompanied by casual chatter between the other gang members, but you're only listening with one ear. Jokes are being made and when the others laugh you join in. You don't want them to think that your head isn't in the game.

You banish your negative thoughts and try to focus on the task at hand. The bank robbery should be your main concern right now. Once that is done, then you can worry about the Downes family.

"We should leave the horses over here.", Bill rips you out of your thoughts and you get off your horses.

You give Penthesilea a soft pat before following the others around the corner towards the bank. They're discussing who should be send in as a distraction.

"I can go.", you offer, but Bill hesitates.

"She's good. Helped me steal an oil wagon once." Arthur's backup earns him a grateful smile from you.

That seems to be enough to convince Bill and he nods. "Alright then. We'll be right outside."

Before entering the bank, you fix up your collar and hair and straighten your skirt a bit. Rather dramatically, you swing the double door open and stroll in with a certain confidence as if you own the place.

Immediately all heads turn to your direction and a bunch of eyes stare you down. It makes you nervous, but there is no backing down now, so you gather all your courage.

As you pull out a white handkerchief, you wave it around for a second and point at the customers.

"Good afternoon to thee and thee and thee! May I present Madame Lupone's terpsichorean troupe of travelling thespians!", you declare in a rather ceremonial way and bow theatrically.

The customers share puzzled looks between one another and you take the opportunity to study each one of them a bit more thoroughly. By the looks of it there is only one guard posted.

A sweet smile forms on your lips as you lock eyes with the guard and pretend to rummage through the pockets of your coat. "You look like a man who'd be interested in what we have to offer!"

He lifts his hands as he makes his way towards you, shaking his head. "Lady, I don't think-"

You don't let him finish the sentence. A sickening crack can be heard as you ram the handle of your revolver straight into his face. The man let's out a mortified screech and blood splatters all over the tile floor.

Not even a heartbeat later, the others come crashing through the front door, pointing their guns and yelling orders. You too put the end of your barrel at the back of the guards head.

"On the floor. Now." Your voice comes out cold and controlled and the man follows your command without question.

Everything that follows after is smooth sailing. For you at least. While you, Lenny and Karen make sure the customers try nothing funny, Arthur and Bill seem to struggle a bit with the safes in the back.

The bank clerk's sobs can be heard all the way to where you're standing and you force your attention somewhere else.

"How's it goin' back there?", Karen yells over her shoulder.

"We're gonna have to crack open the safes!", comes Bill's response.

Hopefully they will be fast about it. You take a peek out through one of the large windows and spot a small group of men talking and looking over at the bank.

"Any minute now, boys!", you call out. "I see some movement outside!"

There is more chatter in the back and after what feels like an eternity, Bill and Arthur emerge again. Their bags look full and loaded and relief washes over you. Bill presses his back against the wall and takes a look outside.

"What exactly did you see?", he asks directed at you.

"There was a group. They were talking and looking at the bank. It doesn't have to mean anything, but you know...", you respond and he nods.

The men outside didn't look particularly alarmed or anything. They might have been discussing something entirely else as well. There are other building on this side of the street after all.

Karen moves closer to the door and steps outside. A few seconds later she enters the bank again. "I think we're fine. C'mon I'll lead the way."

Arthur leans closer to you and lowers his voice. "You good?"

Your nod seems to satisfy him and you move out with the others. Leisurely, you all make your way back to the horses until you spot, in the corner of your eyes, a group of lawmen storming into town on horseback.

A man shouts in the distance. "Somebody robbed the bank!"

You curse under your breath as you enter a full sprint and jump onto Penthesilea's back as fast as your skirt allows you to. Bullets fly around your head and you instinctively duck.

You signal your horse to start galloping and you follow the other gang members out of Valentine. How come that everytime you want to leave this godforsaken town, you do it under heavy fire? It's starting to get real frustrating.

Luckily, Penthesilea doesn't seem fazed by any of this at all. Not even when one of the bullets lands awfully close in the ground infront of her. You make a mental note to yourself to shower her in treats later today.

Without expecting to land any hits, you point your Schofield at the lawmen behind you and pull the trigger a couple times. There is no time to check if any of your shots landed, so you focus entirely on the other gang members.

They soon lead you off road and into a  familiar forest. Easily, you recognize the area and reckon that you must be close to Horseshoe Overlook. Thinking of that place brings up memories.

"I think we lost them.", Lenny comments and you let your gaze wander around.

He's right. It seems like you guys have shaken off the lawmen for now and you jump off your horse, panting. Pearls of sweat have formed on your forehead from the stress of the chase and you wipe them off with the back of your hand.

A relieved and breathless laugh escapes Karen. "Thank you, Gentlemen. That was-"

Arthur cuts her off as he opens his leather bag and inspects the contents. "Stupid and dangerous. Thank you, Bill."

"We're alive and paid! I don't see the problem.", the other man argues and Arthur hands everyone their share of the money.

"And that is the problem.", he comments.

It could have definitely ended a whole lot worse. In your book, you see this robbery as a success as well, but you decide to better leave that unspoken.

Your mouth almost falls open as you count the stack Arthur has given you and realize just how much you guys have stolen. With this amount you could easily buy a whole army of Penthesileas and have enough to equip them with the most luxurious saddles.

"But this is quite the take. Dutch'll be happy. Even if it did come with a heap of trouble.", Arthur says, flinging the leather bag far away into some shrubs.

"Ah, it was fun!", Karen argues and you're not quite sure if you could agree.

Sure, it came with a certain thrill that one can describe as fun, but to you personally it was more stressful than anything else. The constant fear of someone waltzing into the bank in the middle of it isn't something you're particularly fond of.

Having that sense of danger in the back of your mind is definitely a thing you'd have to get used to if you ever agree to join a bank heist again. Perhaps you should stick to coaches for now.

"Alright, there is other business I gotta attend to. Everyone, split up and do not head directly into camp!" Arthur hasn't even finished his sentence before everyone starts to run off. "And make sure you're not bein' followed!"

Now it's only the two of you and he lifts his eyebrows in slight surprise as his gaze falls on you. Seems like he thought that you had also taken off with the rest.

"I got this debt to collect 'round here. You don't have to wait up for me.", he mutters and mounts his horse.

"Let me come with you."

His expression turns sour and he let's out a long sigh. "Listen...I don't want you takin' this the wrong way, but I really don't need you there. Last time-"

He leaves the rest unspoken, but he doesn't need to say it anyways. You already know what he's trying to say. Last time he was at the Downes ranch you had stormed in and interrupted him in his work.

It's understandable that he wants to avoid this happening again, but there is also no need for you to stop him this time. Mr. Downes is dead. The danger is gone, as bad as that sounds.

"I won't do anything without you telling me so. Arthur, you've seen me back at the bank. I can handle this!" Your voice carries a certain urgency and desperation and you dearly hope that that won't make him think that you're plotting again.

There really isn't anything for you to plot anymore. You simply want to be there, because...well, you don't even know it yourself. It's a feeling that is pulling you towards the ranch.

For the longest time none of you say a word until he pinches the bridge of his nose and makes a throwaway gesture. "Alright, but no funny business."

"No funny business.", you repeat reassuringly and mount your horse.

Together you make your way to the Downes residency and dark clouds begin to form over your head. It gives you an odd sense of deja-vu and you swallow the lump in your throat.

In the distance you spot the familiar house and there is a wagon parked in the front of it. Two people are loading crates and bags on it. They must be the wife and child Herr Strauss mentioned.

You leave your horses on the edge of the property and walk towards the wagon. You stay closely behind Arthur and recall his words.

No funny business.

"My husband's not cold in the ground and you come back here." The woman spits out her words like venom. "I nearly paid off what was owed."

"Your husband knew the rules when he took that money.", Arthur argues and lifts his hands. "Now, I'm real sorry 'bout how things turned out, but your husband had a choice. Ain't my fault 'bout the way the world is."

She gives him a look as if he had slapped her right across the face which is evidently pretty much what he did with that statement. "He had no choice! He was good and he did good. There wasn't no choice in that."

Her son hands her a bag from the top of the porch which she quickly loads up with the rest before continuing. "And you've as good as killed him yourself and don't kid yourself. You had a choice."

"You speak as if killin' is somethin' I cared about." The way he says this so coldly sends a shiver down your spine, but nevertheless, you bite your tongue.

"You ever wonder about eternity? You should."

"I hope it's hot and terrible, Mrs. Downes, otherwise I'd feel like I've been sold a false bill of goods. Now, please...get me that money."

She glares daggers at him before vanishing into the house. Watching this...it makes you uncomfortable and strange.

The son isn't any less condescending and doesn't hold back either with giving Arthur a nasty look. For most of the part, the Downes seem to be ignoring you completely.

The outlaw obviously notices the son's dismay for him and steps closer. "Either you got a lazy eye or a lack of respect. Which is it, boy?"

The young man puts down the bag he's carrying. "I ain't got no lazy eyes, nor respect for the likes of you."

When he says the last part, you don't fail to notice how his eyes flicker to you for a brief moment. It doesn't come to a surprise though. You might have been the one to stop Arthur from beating Mr. Downes, but you're still the one by his side.

"Well, maybe when your mother is finished mourning your father I'll keep her in black on your behalf. You think on that, boy."

The son is left speechless for a moment and so are you. His words have shaken you to your core and you're staring at him with your mouth left slightly agape. Arthur's gaze falls on you for a brief second and there is an emotion lying in his expression that you can't quite place.

When the son finally speaks up, his voice cracks and trembles. "Well, maybe you shall, sir, and maybe other events will transpire."

"You better stick to books, because mark my words on this, vengeance is an idiot's game." Arthur's face lights up once Mrs. Downes appears in the doorway and walks down the stairs of the porch. "Ah, Mrs. Downes! Thank you for your punctuality. It's right next to godliness isn't it?"

As he counts the stack of dollar bills, she scoffs. "That's cleanliness."

"I'll have to take your word on that. Good day." With that he goes to leave for the horses, but you find yourself lingering where you stand.

Your gaze is set on Mrs. Downes and you clear your throat. "I'm...I'm so sorry for your loss."

Her eyes wander up and down as she studies you with a stone cold face. Her lips are tightly pressed together, so that they're forming a thin line and you notice only now how her eyelids are red and puffy. Probably from crying.

"I appreciate you stepping in when you did. I do.", she starts with a strained voice and you feel your heart picking up in pace. "But don't be fooled by thinking you're a good person, because you're not. Not when you ride alongside the likes of him."

These words hit you and what's worse is that they're true. You've stolen, robbed and killed. Not once have you stopped to think about what consequences your actions are bringing.

Now you see them though. This family is moving away, because they had to sell their home to pay off a debt. What about the families of the men you've murdered? The two O'Driscolls probably didn't have anyone waiting for them at home, but perhaps the guards at the bank coach did.

They lived honest lives with honest jobs. Why were they guarding that coach that day? They most likely had mouths to feed and now these mouths might not have anyone anymore.

It feels like invisible hands are wrapping their fingers around your neck and squeezing tightly. They have an iron grip on you until you sense something warm on your back. Arthur's hand.

Gently, but assertively he pushes you towards Penthesilea and helps you get up on the saddle even though you don't really need the support. The widow's words are replaying in your mind like a mantra that is meant to drag you down.

I can't continue like this.

Taglist: @shackspossum @heloixe @abducted-cowz

[keitorin3]

The Reckless King and the Old Storyteller

So I had this idea that came to me one night just sitting around watching this movie "Three thousand years of Longing" on TV. If you've seen it, you'll probably know which part of it inspired me just by the title of this post.

So the setting for this story is based in the 1200-1300s where there is a young boy named Arthur who was crowned king at the early age of 11.

At age 20 he leads his army's to war, fighting alongside his men in the battlefield. Stories are told of his recklessness, even with his own life, but still with his strength and the power of his armies, he conquered the surrounding lands and the other neighbouring kingdoms as well. He returns to his kingdom as a conquer, but his soul has rotten in war, making him unable to shed his bloody armor (Figuratively speaking).

His councillors, fearing his bloodlust tries to distract him with other gratifications. They gave him all one could desire, alcohol, exotic foods, beautiful women and entertainment.

None could quinch his thirst for violence. Until the court summons all of the kingdoms best storytellers and bards to the castle in a bid for one of them enrapture the King with their tales.

At first, after many of storytellers failed and try to flee from the kings displeasure and impatients, they almost lost hope. But there was one that was able to enchant him.

The old storyteller went by the name Merlin, and he was a different kind of man. His insolence and quips would have earned his neck the blade, but the tales the man told stole the kings attention and even his foolishness and blunt comments was a charming quality to Arthur. It made him laugh and soothed the harsh king.

Merlin became his first friend. And that friendship eventually evolved into love.

Arthur grew very attached to the old man, and eventually it became a very common sight to see the two together as Arthur didn't just seek Merlin for stories but for company, somebody to speak too. For Merlin was honest in a sarcastic way that Arthur appreciates.

The tales Merlin told were many and holding a lesson and point of truth to be told. But Arthur especially loved the stories of Artorius. A Roman General from the 4th century who later becomes king after many adventures that helps to gather his loyal men of the Stone Round Table.

Arthur especially loves the tales featuring Artorius and his secretly magical Manservant, Myrddin. Their tale was of loyalty, love and heartache. Once, Arthur told Merlin that he thinks Artorius was in love with Myrddin and not the Queen Guinevere with how much they had been through together. It saddens Arthur that Myrddin had to hold onto Artorius dying body alone, weaping for him by a lake.

When Merlin finally reveals to Arthur his magic one day by via magic butterfly, and there and then, Arthur knew love.

Arthur tried to place Merlin in his court as advisor or court magician, but Merlin denies both offers and chooses to be his friend instead.

Now, this is where things get interesting! There's an assassination attempt on Arthur after hearing of the king going soft, someone had balls to try and kill him. The attempt is thwarted by Merlin who took a blade to the back after pushing Arthur out of the way.

The King holds Merlin in his arms as he dies.

The assassin dies shortly after with his internal organs ripped out and his head set on a pike in the front gates. But as soon as the bloodlust depleted, Arthur found himself beside Merlin's body and weeping.

The people ran for the hills as news of the Storytellers death spread, fearful of the violence the Kings grief filled rage will ensure.

Arthur did none, he remained at Merlin's side crying for the man who held his heart.

(Now here I would have left it off and said Arthur dies after drinking himself sick, but I'm a suckered for happy endings.)

It was only due to him never taking his eyes off Merlin that he witnessed it.

The Magic.

It was glowing gold, much like Merlin's eyes when he practiced magic, it sprung from the very earth and wrapped him. Before his very eyes Arthur watches in shocked Wonder as Merlin's sliver white hair turned raven black and his wrinkles disappear and smoothed clear into flawless white skin.

The best part was when Merlin's lungs breathed air and his eyes opened. They were gold for a long while before turning into very familiar blue eyes.

It was Merlin, his Merlin, only not so old anymore, but it's him and he was alive. Arthur had no restraint in hugging the just revived man tightly. Sobbing again but this time in relief.

Merlin: I'm ok Arthur, everything is ok my King.

Arthur: Don't- don't ever do something like that again do you hear me! Never again Merlin. Thank god you're alive.

Merlin: Err, your not shocked that I'm young again? Sorry about that by the way, I was planning on telling you but it slipped my mind, being old wasn't fake, just temporary. But man, it feels good to not feel my bones ache.

Arthur: You idiot. *then proceeds to kiss him dumber.*

Arthur would later trick Merlin into marriage and make him become King Consort. Nobody questions about the Old Storyteller become an Young Storyteller, content and happy with the positive effect he has on the Once Reckless King.

(This was great to get out of my mind. I loved the part of the Gjinns tale because instantly my mind went to Merlin and Arthur, but Merlin is the magical Being so he don't stay dead.

In my mind, the stories Merlin tells are all real events, especially Artorius and Myrddin. If it wasn't obvious, Merlin is Myrddin of the story and has been waiting for his King to return for 5-6 hundred years. He went across the lands telling their story. Now he found him in young Arthur and it was time they make new tales to tell, one of a round table and a sword in the stone.

That's all for now, till next time fellow dreamers~! ✨)

[tumb1rprincess]

Oh man, Arthur’s really freaking out now and all John can do is say “I know, I know” over and over and try to keep him from drowning in his panic. Damn, I feel like this is the most scared we’ve heard him sound, he’s practically having a panic attack at this point.

Oh boy, this deal with Scratch is going to backfire or turn out really bad or something.

You don’t know how much I sighed in relief when Oscar showed up, finally a friendly face.

Hold on, John missed Daniel and Oscar when Arthur passed by, did he forget them and what they looked like? God damn it, what the hell is going on with him? And he's still in denial about it. It’s getting worse and if he’s forgetting when Arthur really needs to know who’s in front of him, god, that’s bad. That’s really bad.

Daniel for god’s sake, now is not the time to talk about Winston Churchill!

Arthur being so confused about Oscar offering to help just because he genuinely wants to, god, how long has it been since someone’s helped him with no strings attached? Like, he’s had John, but other people, it’s been so long since he’s been able to trust another person.

Ah, Noel’s finally here. Saw a little bit of him too when checking this fandom out. Now we’ve got someone on board who solves crimes like Arthur used to, it’ll be interesting to see if they work the same way or if their methods differ from each other. Also got a bit of mystery to him, what's his backstory?

Oh god, oh god, this whole stand off with Collins and Arthur in Daniel’s room, god, I can barely breathe, this is so tense.

Arthur going “Daddy should have taught you how to tie a better knot, boyo” and “Good dog” had me, uh...feeling a certain way. Like

Collins got fucking wrecked, woooooooo! Have fun in jail, sucka! And yes, I know he's probably not going stay there for long 'cause that's just how this show is, but let me revel in this moment a little bit.

I know John's being cautious here, and part of me is wondering if this is going to lead to some bad outcomes, but Arthur's been on his own for a long time. Friends like Oscar and Noel could be good for him. He's been trying really hard to see the good in himself, let him see the good in other people too.

[department-of-landing-strategies]

So initially this was supposed to happen after I did pre-canon stuff for at least Marcus and Audrey but I have more motivation right now to do this so now presenting Pre-Canon (and touching on a bit of canon and post canon) headcanons for Percy Weasley:

Despite what others thought, Percy was the second parent to the family and not Bill. When Molly lost her brothers, she ended up in a state where she only managed consistently to be able to cook dinner. Percy decided to take the parenting responsibility on himself, which Bill was thankful for, partly to try and avoid processing the loss of his uncles. Since he couldn't really do much in terms of cooking, Percy enlisted Charlie to help make food. A system got formed that involved Percy parenting his younger siblings that stayed even after Molly got more involved and Charlie left for Hogwarts. The system only got thrown out the window and into a pit of fire when Percy left for Hogwarts.

Percy saw his Uncle Fabion and Uncle Gideon as father figures more than he saw Arthur as a father figure. This happened because Percy was around his uncles more than his father during the war, which left parenting Percy to Fabion and Gideon more often than not. After the war, Arthur tried to parent Percy, but Percy refused to let it happen partly because he saw it as Arthur trying to take over Fabion's and Gideon's jobs. Arthur gave up trying to parent Percy, and their bond never really developed much even as Percy got older.

Despite looking up to both Bill and Charlie, Percy was always closer with Charlie. Besides Charlie helping Percy parent their younger siblings, both found each other the best to listen to each others rambles. As a result, Charlie knows a lot of magical laws and Percy knows a lot about a lot of magical creatures.

Percy looked like a mini male version of Molly with some of Arthur's attributes. As a result, Percy looked really similar to Fabion and Gideon. After the first wizarding war, it Molly a while to be able to look at Percy because half of the time when she looked at Percy she would see one of her brothers.

Percy's accidental magic was illusion and apperation based. Whenever Percy would read a book to one of his younger siblings, there was a chance that an illusion would encompass the room and change depending on what the part of the book Percy was currently reading was describing. As for Percy's accidental apparitions, when the Burrow would get too loud, Percy would usually apparate to the roof of the Burrow. If the rest of his siblings were playing Quidditch when it happened, however, Percy would apperate to Muriel's house because her house was always quieter than the Burrow was when Quidditch was involved. With gaining a wand, the illusions were harder to stop than the apperations.

Percy has an attachment to stuffed animals. It started with a black dragon plushie he named Nyx that ended up being one of the last things Fabion and Gideon gave him. Throughout his time at Hogwarts, mostly during the first four years, the most common gift Penny, Oliver, Audrey, and Marcus got Percy was some sort of plushie, which led to Percy gaining a collection of something he had almost all positive memories towards. Percy gained a Gryffindor coloured dragon plushie to add to the collection from the twins after the war as a gift meant to try and start to make amends.

Percy and the twins got along better than they did in canon before any of them went to Hogwarts. The twins jealously of several of their siblings that weren't Percy (mostly Ron) for taking Percy's attention from them meant it always had some cracks. It only started to get bad the summer after Percy's first year, and the twins started to aim their pranks at Percy to try and keep Percy's nkw more limited attention in them

Percy didn't initially want to go into a job at the MoM. If you asked what job Percy wanted to do before Percy's third year, you'd get an answer along the lines of a creative job or a job that involves divination.

Percy used to do art. His best part of the process was the sketch and the line art. That's not to say he was bad at colour. It's just that he was more experienced with sketches than full coloured pieces. He decided to hide his supplies after Molly, either accidentally or on purpose, burned some sketches. Percy stopped after Charlie accidentally caused a fire in his room that took most of Percy's art supplies and some of Charlie's school stuff. He only got back into it after the war aince it helped work through some feelings

Percy was the only one who got told in person about Charlie going to Romania. Charlie's plan was to explain that he was going to Romania and then apologise for destroying Percy's supplies. Percy lashed out and stormed off from the conversation before Charlie could apologise. As a result, Charlie decided to explain the Romania bit through a letter (rip Bill's mail that month) and apologise for the fire to Percy in a separate letter.

When Bill left, Percy was the one that sent him letters. Initially, it started as two letters a month, which capped at a side of parchment. After the twins showed up to Hogwarts, it became once a month letters that occasionally needed a second sheet of parchment. The letters turned to only happening in extreme cases of concern or in case of celebatory news when Ron started Hogwarts before being cut entirely after the fight with Arthur.

Percy can see thestrals thanks to Fabion and Gideon. He had a breakdown about it when he and Oliver got in their dorms that night. The breakdown was fuelled by every emotion that Percy bottled up since the Weasleys lost Fabion and Gideon.

[e-dubbc11]

Love Her

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Billy Russo x F! Reader

Warnings: Angst, mentions of PTSD, Billy’s abandonment, and his nightmares, couple of swear words, fluffy ending.

Word Count: 3.6k-ish

Summary: From Billy’s POV, he struggles with his own feelings after reader walks out on him. He realizes how he feels after listening to one of her favorite songs.

A/N: This is a side/adjacent/sequel story to Love Me, if you need a refresher or haven’t read it yet, you can read it HERE. This is also part of the Thirsty for Cox server writing challenge for the month of April. The prompt we chose for this month was music. Each of us chose a song to inspire us and the song I chose was The Difference by Matchbox Twenty. Please check out the song, I love it so much and I'm excited to read everyone else's also!

As always, thank you for reading! I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don't be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕💕

After she left your apartment, the cutting words she had uttered hung heavily in the air and it was all you could hear over and over again in your head like a broken record.

“Let me go, Billy.” She had said with hurt and disdain in her voice.

Your calloused hands touched the soft skin of her wrist when you grabbed her to try to prevent her from leaving. You didn’t want her to go, the very thought of her leaving you tore you up inside but you couldn’t say it. The words remained unspoken, locked away where they couldn’t be used against you, or make you weak.

You didn’t want to admit to her that you were broken, you knew you were but how could you tell her that? You imagined her running away anyway if she found out what you had done, the awful things you had done that she didn’t know about. Sometimes you could still see the blood on your hands from Afghanistan and Iraq, to the blood you shed on your own home soil…Arthur, or protection assignments gone awry. No matter how hard you tried, the blood wouldn’t wash off. You washed and scrubbed but your hands were never clean after that. It was all a reminder that you weren’t a good man. At least you didn’t think you were.

You had hoped she never had to see the blood.

There had been a date or two where you had noticed a small spot of blood on the cuff of your shirt while having dinner with her. Was it actually there or were you seeing things again? If the blood was there, did she see it too? Did it scare her? You didn’t know because you didn’t ask her. Why was it so difficult for you to just talk to her about it? You had just started to open up and share more about your past with her when she left, it was the very reason why you didn’t do relationships. If you didn’t form an attachment, if you never let them get close, then they never had a chance to walk away from you.

You were attached to her though, very attached. Maybe you thought if you didn’t verbalize it, your feelings for her would change or go away even though you didn’t want them to. And it wasn’t as if she didn’t know you were a combat veteran, a scout sniper, or that you had more than one form of PTSD between fighting overseas, being abandoned at a very young age and growing up in the Ray of Hope group home. You never gave her too many details though.

You never told her about the constant nightmares you suffered from, the nightmares that would wake you in the middle of the night while she was sleeping next to you. They triggered you to frantically leave the bedroom so she wouldn't see the sweat dripping down your temples, feel your heart beating rapidly against her body, or notice your trembling hands.

You didn’t want her to see how scared you were. You’re a marine, you’re not supposed to get scared, especially not in front of her. You were the strong one and couldn’t let her see you that vulnerable, that afraid. And afraid of what? There wasn’t anything there!

The sad thing was, you knew she would be there for you, be there to comfort you, talk you through the nightmares, and tell you it will be alright but you didn’t let her. “No attachments soldier, they’re a weakness!” Those words echoed in your head and had always stopped you from forming any meaningful relationships.

But what if you wanted a weakness? What if you wanted to finally be in love…with her.

She loved you, with her whole heart. You could feel it, she didn’t hide it even though she never said those three words. The only reason she didn’t say them was because you never did. She didn’t know how you felt about her so she kept it all inside, hoping one day you would tell her and she could finally say it back.

“I love you.”

You imagined her saying those words, hearing the tone of her voice as she did, but when she asked you how you felt about her, your whole body seized and you couldn’t do it. All you managed to say was “I wish I could love you, I know you’re good for me, but I can’t.”

And that’s when you lost her. That was when it all fell apart. She walked out of your apartment never turning back, no matter how much you willed her to come back or tried to force yourself to chase after her, you were frozen. The heart you spent so many years building an impenetrable shield around, was broken and she was the only one who could fix it.

After she left, you couldn’t look at anything in your apartment without thinking of her, picturing her beside you on the couch, seeing her beautiful smiling face in the kitchen making popcorn or getting a beer from the fridge. Her face was everywhere, even in your dreams. It was even difficult for you to just be at home without her there.

Your arm stretched over to the other side of the bed, it was empty but you remembered her being asleep next to you. You didn’t sleep very well, so watching her sleep was comforting, it put you at ease to watch her chest rise and fall gently with each inhale and exhale, moving a stray hair away from her face so you could see her better, while she lovingly whispered your name in her sleep…”Billy.” You missed the sound of her voice.

You missed…her. The dull ache in your chest was always there. Ever since she walked out, the pain had been there, it stayed with you like an invisible wound that wouldn’t heal. You, Billy Russo, were in love with her and that all came to a head one night while listening to one of her playlists.

With the steam from the shower enveloping you and the hot water forcefully hitting your skin, you glanced at the caddy attached to the wall. Inside, there was a bottle of vanilla lavender body wash she had left behind. Picking up the bottle, you popped the top open, placed it underneath your nose, closed your eyes and inhaled the scent.

A flood of memories came back, they invaded your mind like an army invading an enemy camp, and it had you in a stronghold with no hope of escaping. Suddenly she was right in front of you, her beautiful face smiling at you, and you could almost hear her infectious laugh. Not wanting the image of her to disappear, you kept your eyes closed while the song started to play.

She loved to listen to (and sing along to) music while taking a shower, maybe it would make you feel better listening to a song she loved. A slight smile tugged at the corners of your mouth, this was one of her favorites.

Slow dancing

On the boulevard

In the quiet moments

While the city's still dark

Sleepwalking through the summer rain

In the tired spaces

You could hear her name

Your chest began to ache again. The lyrics jabbed at you, each word cutting deeper than the one before. “You could hear her name”

And you said her name out loud for the first time in a while. “Y/n.”

A song has never affected you this way before, you knew it was one of her favorites but never really listened to the lyrics until now.

When she was warm and tender and you

Held her arms around you

There was nothing but her

Love and affection she was

Crazy for you now she's

Part of something that you lost

And for all you know

This could be

The difference between what you need

And what you want to be

The words slipped into your heart like a piece of broken glass, all she had wanted was for you to tell her she meant something to you, that she wasn’t just a piece of ass or another pretty face like the others had been.

“Do you care about me at all, Billy?” She had asked, her eyes welled up with tears.

All you had to do was say yes but you couldn’t do it.

With each lyric, the imaginary glass buried itself deeper and deeper into your heart.

Night swimming

In her diamond dress

Making small circles

Move across the surface

Stand watching

From the steady shore

Feeling wide open

And waiting for

Something warm and tender now she's

Moving further from you

There was nothing that could

Make it easy on you

Every step you take reminds you

That she's walking on

It felt like that glass was cutting your heart up into little ribbons and by the time it was done, there would be nothing left unless you stopped it, unless you went to her to tell her you how you feel about her.

You wanted to tell her you love the way she makes you laugh, that the little nose scrunch she does when she laughs is one of the cutest things you’ve ever seen, that you smile every time you get a text from her, and that from the first time you ever kissed her, it was a sensation that you’ve never experienced before, a feeling you’ve been avoiding for your entire life…love.

You…love her.

Every word you never said

Echoes down your empty hallway

Everything that was your world

Just came down

Those lyrics broke you, suddenly it was hard to breathe and you had to brace yourself against the shower wall. It felt like you had been kicked in the stomach and you were left gasping for air. She WAS your world, and even though you had only recently started opening up to her, it felt easy and safe.

And for all you know

This could be

The difference between what you need

And what you want to be

As the song finished, you came to the realization just how important she was to you, that you loved her and she needed to know it. Now you just had to figure out how to get her to listen to what you had to say.

**********

Frank had told you on more than one occasion since she left that you looked like shit. He wasn’t wrong but he also asked you what you wanted.

“You love her, yeah? Do you want her back because it seems like you do, Bill.”

The lyrics came flooding back from the previous night “The difference between what you need…And what you want to be.”

Of course he was right, you wanted her back. “I—I do love her, I’m just not sure she’ll take me back, Frankie.” You told him.

“How do you know that?” He had asked.

“I couldn’t tell her—She asked me and I couldn’t tell her how I feel about her.” You said.

Frank narrowed his eyes at you. “Listen Bill, this is something I’ve never seen before with you. You’re…happy and I like seein’ ya that way. So go home and think about how to tell her, yeah? Just figure it out, I’m tired of lookin’ at your sad, tired mug. Ya hear me?”

Maybe Frankie should write a book. Just Figure it Out -- A self-help book by Frank Castle. Comes with a free punch to the face if you deserve it and you definitely deserved one. He should have just said what he really wanted to say, “STOP BEING STUPID, BILL!” That was Frankie’s idea of a “pep talk.”

You heard him loud and clear but you still didn’t know how you were going to do it. It was incredibly difficult for you to jump without a safety net, to be susceptible to feelings you never allowed yourself to feel before but you had to figure something out, otherwise you would lose her…forever.

Your security team had been following her for about three weeks. It was just a way for you to keep an eye on her, to keep her safe and a small gesture to show that you care about what happens to her, she knew you never liked the idea of her walking alone. And she didn’t seem to mind, she never told them to leave.

Maybe some flowers would also help your cause.

Walking in the rain with a vase full of lilies in one hand and an umbrella in the other, you arrived at her building. The downstairs neighbor recognized you and let you in. You knew she would be home soon so you placed the flowers in front of her door and waited at the other end of the hallway, around the corner until she went inside. You were hoping she would at least bring them inside and not leave them to wilt in front of her door.

Hearing the “ding” from the elevator, the doors opened up and she stepped out looking just as beautiful as the last time you saw her, hair a little damp from the cool rain outside and she brushed the tiny droplets of water off of her jacket. She stopped briefly before reaching the door, the flowers caught her off guard a little before she picked them up and brought them inside.

Before making your way back down the hallway to her door, you tried calling her. You had borrowed Frankie’s phone in case she saw your number and didn’t want to pick up. It rang a couple of times and went to voice mail, you tried two more times with no success. The fourth time, she finally picked up.

“What?!!!” She yelled.

“Don’t hang up, sweet girl.” You said. “I borrowed Frankie’s phone.”

She had an angry snap to her voice. “Why are you calling me, Billy? I don’t wanna do this, ok?” She was so mad, she was practically shouting into the phone.

You pleaded with her. “I wanna talk to you, y/n.” You started to walk down the hallway and stopped in front of her door.

“Yeah well what the fuck do you wanna talk about?!” She snapped again.

There were so many things you wanted to tell her. Like you love the way she gently scrapes your scalp and messes with your hair when you’re watching tv, you miss the way she makes your t-shirts smell of vanilla and lavender after her shower. The way she looks at you when she asks you to read to her because she loves the sound of your voice so much, or the fact that she loved the little things you did for her like bringing her coffee in bed, soup when she didn’t feel well, or covering her with a blanket when she falls asleep on the couch.

She always asked how your day was and actually listened, never looking at her phone or the tv but really listened to you because she knew you loved your job, you loved creating something you believed in. Seeing you happy, made her happy.

You wanted to tell her about Afghanistan, Iraq, Arthur, the nightmares…all of it. She had even reassured you. “When you’re ready, Billy. I’ll never ever pressure you. You can trust me.” She told you with a warm smile and a kiss on the cheek. And she never did, she listened intently when you did actually want to talk and after you were finished, she’d always say the same thing “I’m so happy you told me.”

You could see it in her eyes that she meant it, she meant every word.

Closing your eyes, you inhaled sharply and let out a long exhale before knocking on her door, the phone still pressed to your ear.

She heard the knocks and said. “Ah shit! Someone’s at the door, hold on.”

The door flung open, the phone was still pressed to her ear also, and you could almost see her heart jump into her throat. She was very surprised to see you standing in front of her.

The words just seemed to fall out of your mouth. “I wanna talk about how much I love you.”

You dropped the phone to your side and waited in agony for her response. You almost expected her to push you out, slam the door in your face and tell you she never wants to see you again.

Instead, with tears in her eyes and a hitch in her voice, she said. “I’m listening.”

“Can I come in?” You asked, sheepishly.

She motioned for you to come in and closed the door behind you. Folding her arms across her chest and narrowing her eyes, she glared at you. The tears that sprang to her eyes when you told her you loved her mysteriously disappeared, now she was angry. And she had every right to be because you acted like an asshole with no consideration for her feelings at all.

Although, she did look adorable when she was mad, you tried to cut the tension by smiling at her. She didn’t smile back.

You’re going to have to do better than that, Russo. It was going to take more than a smile for her to take you back.

You inched closer to her, she didn’t move away but flinched a little when you reached for her hand so you shied back a little as you tried to vocalize everything you had been thinking about for the past month.

“I—I’ve really missed you, sweet girl.” You said. “And…I’m so sorry for everything.”

You could see her body tense up as she pressed her lips together and tried to look away from you because the tears had returned.

“Those words, what you said, crushed me, Billy.” She said. “You said you wanted to love me but you just couldn’t. I didn’t know words could hurt that badly until that moment, you couldn’t even look at me.”

A lone tear streaked down her cheek and hit the corner of her mouth. She looked beautiful even when she was crying.

Her words broke your heart, which you didn’t know was possible. The muted pain that had been in your chest since she left, convinced you that you actually had a heart and it was capable of caring for someone other than yourself. It just needed the right person to awaken it.

Then she asked a question you weren’t ready for.

“So what changed then?”

Your answer was surprising, even to you and through a half smile, you replied.

“Nothing’s changed, my love.”

Before she could get angry, you continued.

“Nothing’s changed because I’ve loved you since the first time I kissed you on that Ferris wheel. It was a strange and new feeling for me, thought maybe it would go away but the feeling just grew until I realized that it wasn’t going away and I couldn’t ignore it anymore.”

Suddenly, her shoulders relaxed and she let you take her hand while you slowly moved closer until you were sharing the same air.

You could tell she needed to hear more.

“It grew every time you made me laugh, every time you do that little nose scrunch when you laugh.” You brushed the tip of her nose with your finger and she did the nose scrunch as a reflex. “Every time you raked your fingers through my hair, or when you would make my t-shirts smell like your body wash after your shower, and every time you asked me to read to you. Our first kiss was just the beginning of my love for you.”

Your confession caused more tears to fall from her eyes, one of them landed on her hand and you brushed it away with your thumb.

Her eyes red with tears, she fell against your chest, her arms snaked around your back and she squeezed you tightly.

Through her gentle sobs, she finally said “I’m so happy you told me.”

“And I wanna tell you so much more. I—I love you, y/n.” You whispered against the top of her head.

“Whenever you’re ready, Billy. I’ll be here for you. And I love you too.” She whispered back against your chest.

Those words sounded just as beautiful as you imagined they would escaping her lips and she melted even further into you when she reciprocated the words back to you. She fit perfectly against your body, her spicy scented perfume conquered your sense of smell, and you brushed the back of her neck with your fingers, feeling the goosebumps dance across her skin as you held her in perfect silence. It had been such a long time since you had held her like this, too long.

Pulling away slightly, she wrapped her arms around your neck to draw your face closer to hers. She gently pressed her lips to yours, they were soft and warm just like you remembered. Her lips parted, silently giving you permission for your tongue to twist and knot with hers. She really was the sweetest thing you’ve ever tasted.

She offered you her forgiveness and you would do anything to make sure you’d never be without her again, you would try harder, make sure to tell her you love her, and try not to keep your feelings a secret all the time.

It would be difficult, you’d still make mistakes but you knew she would be there for you. Her love and patience were like a lighthouse in a bad storm, guiding you in the direction you needed to go and illuminating the path that leads you safely to shore.

She was worth it, she was the bright light in the dark empty abyss that you had been walking into throughout your entire life. In her eyes, you were a good man and her love for you was real and unmatched. She was the dream at the end of your nightmare.

Tag List: @mindidjarin @saintmurd0ck @wheresthesunshinesblog @rafaelakelley @idaoftheburningmind @snowkestrel @xdervyxccgh @mattmurdocksscars @fakehappy27 @music-indie-tv @fictional-hooman @kayhi808 @munsonownsmyass @gijos @celestialams @idek-what-to-put @anastasianeedstoread @on-ya @k-marzolf @nutmeg17

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If you’d like to be added to (or removed from) my tag list for the ever so handsome Billy Russo, just let me know and thank you again for reading! 💕💕💕 If I tagged you but didn’t want to be, just let me know and I’ll never do it again

[hetagrammy]

hi it’s me again, sorry, may I ask in the regency au how Arthur’s siblings reacted to the kids? Because 1-2 bastard children, understandable, things happen; at least he’s being responsible and taking care of them. But four?

Oh they were pissed when he came home with Ralph and Eleanor. Arthur left home either right before or shortly after Matthew had been sent to live with them. Unlike Alfred, who had been there since he was a baby, Matthew didn’t come to England until he was two and it was a BIG adjustment for him. This is a big reason why he’s slightly more attached to Alasdair as a father figure. So Arthur already has these two children at home, one of whom he really hasn’t met properly. And then he comes back with two more from halfway across the world.

Part of it is about the family’s reputation, because for someone who constantly claims to have the family in mind, Arthur isn’t giving them a good look. The only reason Arthur really does have a chance in society is because he has had such a good naval career and is admired for it. Typical Arthur hypocrisy, but he makes up for it and they can live with that.

The big part is that they could recognize Arthur was fucking up other people’s lives trying to outrun his own pain. Mothers of these children aside, their focus is on the kids themselves. Molly almost lost it on Arthur the first time one of his kids called her “mama,” because the circumstances of their births directly deprived them of that. Matthew’s whole situation is what pissed off Alasdair. Eleanor is the straw that breaks the camel’s back.

Boys are one thing. Bastard or not, they can learn a trade and become respectable in that sense. They can be independent. A girl does not have that luxury. Add on top of that Eleanor is not just a girl, but she’s also biracial. In having her, Arthur has damned her to a life with few prospects. Let’s not get it twisted, they love Eleanor to bits, but they are infuriated at Arthur for the lot he’s given her.

Arthur bringing them home culminated in a huge fight. We’re talking even Alwyn is visibly upset. By the point he got home he’d already started thinking about being a more present father, but they demanded it. Alwyn and Alasdair essentially sat him down and made him actually make plans for things like trusts for the boys and a dowry for Eleanor. Molly didn’t speak to him for a week. Seán kept finding excuses to get out of the house to be away from him.

However, the bright spot in all of this was that for the first time in a while, Arthur was actually home. And the only people excited for him to be there were his kids. Alfred adored Arthur already, and he was dragging a still cautious Matthew along with him. He’d already been at sea with the two younger children, and it was up to him to help Ralph adjust, because it wasn’t easy for him. He had the time to develop enough of a bond with his children that made him realize “Oh God, I actually have to be responsible.” As he realized this and started to take charge independently, things cooled down and a routine was settled into.

Now of course, within the next year he’s running off to fight in the Peninsular Wars. He doesn’t magically become a perfect father by any means. However, he agrees to stop taking such long tours at sea and sticks to European waters. He starts considering settling down, hence why he eventually gets engaged to Emma. He writes to his children more consistently when he is at sea and occasionally sends them things. He also starts whoring around less, and is more careful when he does. It just took him having a Come to Jesus moment with the rest of the family to actually get to that point. There’s still conflict there because he still does have these absences, but it hasn’t come to a head like it did when he first brought home Ralph and Eleanor.

[therogerclarkfanclub]

Interview with Roger on The Irish Stew Podcast!

In this clip Roger discusses who his inspiration was for Arthur Morgan and how other actors helped him define Arthur's personality.

Transcript:

JOHN LEE (Host): But let’s talk about the character. People love this character! You’re reading the comments online: Arthur Morgan, your character, where did he come from? and what animal were you personifying when you came up with how you handled Arthur Morgan?

ROGER: Yeah, when I was.. the five years I was working on Red Dead I was hoping, you know, if this sells as much as Red Dead Redemption, the original, that I would be a very happy man, and we achieved that, we achieved that, and I'm very grateful for it. But the reception that I've got here was unanticipated, I'll be the first to admit. I've had generations of families come up to me saying, you know “I-.. I don't often go for these video games, but I heard my grandson shouting, and I just peeked my head in through the door and well now, I'm level 76 online and I've beaten it more times than my son, and I just think you're fantastic” my father used to scream at me to get off the thing, you know, I often think if he could see me now he probably have a good old chuckle about it, but it really has.. it's a real privilege to be able to have such an appreciative and large audience for something that you've done, and I still pinch myself up and down both arms now, so and I'm very, very grateful.

JOHN LEE: I think they're interacting with you in a way that you don't get to interact when you're at a play or you're at the movies, and then you know, they chime in with their own fan fiction and they're…

ROGER: We're both Arthur in a way. I was the blueprint, but when they play that game they are responsible for his behavior, they are responsible for his actions, so and you're with Arthur, and typically-.. on a typical playthrough, if you're doing the whole story, it's close to 30 hours, so you really do feel like part of this, this happens to me when I play games, you know, you really do have an attachment to that character far faster and in a far different way than you would your favorite character on a TV show, because then in TV and film we are we're an audience you know, whereas in gaming, we are willful participants in the narrative, we can be rich, we affect what happens, and that empowers us as an audience and I think in many ways when it when gaming is done right, it immerses us even more, so yeah I can't believe it.

JOHN LEE: Could you slip into character for a moment and uh….

ROGER: (as Arthur): “Shoah yeah, yeah I do. I'm wishing so many people happy birthday every day, I'm talking into my phone wishing these cowpokes a happy birthday, and screaming out “Lenny!” and giving the odd cough (Roger coughs), sorry about, that it's just a little tickle in my throat. No, I'm fine really, I'm honestly fine.”

(Back to himself): It's crazy, it's absolutely crazy. When I was creating Arthur I was doing Shakespeare off-Broadway, when I was auditioning for it, and my dresser was this fellow, from… where was he from in Arizona? I forget the town now.  And he was from a small town in Arizona and he helped me with the cowboy accent, and a bit of southern did creep-in into his voice after that, but I didn't go for an animal with Arthur, I knew they-.. my first audition they asked me to wear cowboy boots, they didn't say what it was for, but they asked me to wear cowboy boots and to come in with a cowboy accent, so I did that. But my main.. I've had three main inspirations for Arthur, one of them was Rob Wiethoff, who played the lead protagonist of Red Dead Redemption, a character by the name of John Marston. And what Rob taught me was, don't try and do what he did, because that would have been a futile exercise, you gotta do your own thing because John Marston is well adored all by his lonesome. And then there's a bit of John Wayne in Arthur, I grew up preferring Clint Eastwood, but Clint Eastwood's a little too stoic for Arthur, you know, and John Wayne had a very dry wit, and a dry sense of humor that often and I think that's up into that seeped into Arthur.

And another actor who I really took a huge inspiration from was this Japanese fellow called Toshiro Mifune, who did a lot of Kurosawa movies, and you know, he was the lead in Seven Samurai, and Yojimbo, and Sanjuro, the two movies themselves which eventually got twisted into westerns, so he often-.. he played this amazing-.. he would often play this ronin samurai, or the wandering samurai, that he had he could be terrifying one second, hilarious the next, and he kind of had this very relaxed, very stoic demeanor, and I would say Toshiro Mufune was a huge influence for Arthur.

Listen to the entire interview below

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[generational-atrophy]

How would the main 8 react to a yandere S/O? And are there certain kinds of yandere they would be more okay with than others? Would they try to stop them or break up?

(Allies X Reader) Yandere S/O!

(Gender Neutral) Headcanons ~ A/N im so tired sorry i only did the allies for now but ill post the axis for this tommorow :]

Trigger Warning: Typical yandere TWs (Unhealthy behaviour, manipulation, stalking mentions, murder mentions) from both parties.

The charm he once found in your obsessive antics wears off pretty quickly. Sure, he’s glad your relationship is so easy, but it’s a little too easy. Your behaviour didn’t bother him until he realised how much it bothers others… have you been hiding something?

As time goes on, he might become more and more unnerved, more distant, more uncomfortable around you. If you cross that line for him, the breaking point would be something random. As big as getting arrested (him or you? Whichever you decide) or as small as forgetting to grab him a straw when he asked. He knows your relationship isn’t healthy… but he’s a loyal guy. He’s attached at that point. So… it’s not impossible to get yourself back on his good side.

Call him sick or whatever, but he wouldn’t mind a S/O that has a tendency for… elimination. Anyone he truly cares about is immortal, so your homicidal tendencies are no real threat. All he chooses to see it as is fatal dedication. You’re really willing to go that far for him? Wow, he’s real flattered.  (And the sight of you covered in blood? Christ.)

Arthur is… well… he’s always been a bit unconventional at heart, and he’s glad you are too. If anything, your obsession is nothing more than an ego boost. Unless you want him bending to your will, in which case you’re going to be sadly mistaken.

Because of that, he’s unlikely to cut off a Yandere S/O quickly, if at all. Even the creepy and disgusting things that would bother most don’t make him see you any differently. Even if you show up on his doorstep covered in blood, he’ll just invite you in for a nice dinner date. (But not if you bring a body. That implicates him, you know? It’s too much damn paperwork…) The only line Arthur has is that you don’t end up turning on him. The moment you start getting bored, or get mad at him for something trivial, the facade is over. If it’s only been a short while, he’ll break up with you. If it’s been any more… well… you’re about to be on the receiving end of your own behaviour.

Because of that, he would love a Yandere S/O that worships him. He’s willing to give you all the adoration and attention you deserve, satisfying your every sick craving, as long as he’s the one calling the shots. He just can’t get enough of the lovesick look in your eyes, doing everything he can to keep you as obsessed with him as possible.

Eh… he really wouldn’t enjoy a Yandere S/O. He believes that love should be freeing and beautiful! And whatever you feel for him… it’s definitely not that. He doesn’t mind your devotion sometimes but it’s suffocating! (And occasionally terrifying…)

Despite that, it would take a lot for him to cut you off. When it comes to you, he’s very, very tolerant. Even when you make him wildly uncomfortable with your obsession, he just can’t bring himself to break your heart. As you become nothing like the person he fell in love with, stalking him, threatening his friends, cutting him off from the outside world, he still loves you deep down. The only reason he might break up with you is just because your obsession with him has meant you lost all other personality. If all you can talk about is him, what’s the point.

The kind of Yandere S/O that he would like most is a manipulative one, though. For the most part, he doesn’t notice. And when he does, he doesn’t care too much. Most of the time what you want for him is what he wants for himself anyway. If anything, it just makes your whole relationship a performance. And isn’t that meaningful in its own way?

Ugh, you’re cute and all, but Yao does not have the energy to deal with you threatening everyone he knows. Sure, you can worship him or whatever, as long as you aren’t messing with the rest of his life, ok?

Even though he doesn’t mind your obsessive behaviours at home, he really can’t stand them in public. If you end up disrupting his daily life with your yandere tendencies one too many times, he has no issues cutting you off. You may be completely head over heels for him, but that fact only makes him love you less. It’s too easy… and it gets creepy a lot. Besides, it’s like he has to worry about you hurting him. If you stabbed him for breaking up with you, it’d just be embarrassing more than anything else.

Although he does have one Yandere trait he would like just the littlest bit. You making him feel isolated. Mainly because he isn’t truly isolated. All of your antics are nothing more than a game to him. He sees you cutting off all his contacts as romantic more than anything. In reality, he still has family and power, but you want him all to yourself, how cute. Maybe he’ll bring you a lonesome weekend retreat with him, so it’s just the two of you for once, just as a treat.

Ivan has plenty of experience already with Yanderes, and he would be less than enthused if his S/O turned out to be one. Thankfully for you, as much as he hates it, it’s not a complete dealbreaker.

And luckily for you, he’s a yandere in his own special way, so he wouldn’t be likely to cut you off. Most of your more toxic behaviours go right over your head since he’s used to being on the receiving end of them anyway. When you’re completely obsessed with him, he doesn’t even realize it. Only because he’s just as obsessed with you in the first place! The only thing that might really scare him away is once you start saying things Belarus has said about him. And once that happens, his illusion of your perfection falls away. Once you start banging down his door like she does, your relationship is as good as done.

That being said, he’d like an overly submissive S/O in that way. When you worship him and beg for his approval, it makes him feel more loved than anything else could. Most people want him as far away as possible, but you don’t! And it’s more than he could ever wish for. Whatever reward you want from him, you’ve got it.

[elvenbeard]

2072

"You're the son of Kousuke Ezaki, right?"

"Hm. Got a feelin' he'd be disagreein' with ya on this..."

After Vince returned to Night City in 2071, Jackie introduced him to another of his many "friend-of-a-friend"s - the owner of a Valentino-adjacent (but not officially affiliated) car repair shop in Heywood. The guy had been desperately looking for a tech-savvy helper, and Jackie figured it might be something Vince could be good at with his knowledge, skills and an interest in cars.

Vince did not exactly jump at the opportunity, but he did not have too many other choices at the time, if he wanted to keep a roof above his head. There were better jobs, but also much worse, and so he agreed to give it a try.

Turned out, he had a knack for cars, and after some initial reluctance from both sides, "V" became an important asset to the small repair shop in no time. He learned to enjoy all aspects of the work, from fine-tuning ECUs to fixing electrical damages, all the while improvising with the often limited resources at hand. Still though, not a Heywood-native, Vince always remained the odd-one-out among his coworkers, as with their love for cars their common interests ended. Vince learned to prefer it this way, as it gave him the freedoms to set his own priorities, work on side-projects while the others were out for lunch for example. Also, he would not get too attached to a workplace and coworkers he knew he did not want to stay around forever.

The repair shop's clientele largely consisted of locals, gangers and "normal" citizens alike (even if the lines tended to get blurry occasionally). But there was also a handful of regulars of a bigger, much better-paying caliber, that Vince initially wasn't even allowed to look at, let alone touch their cars.

Word-of-mouth recommendations had led a certain Arthur Jenkins to Heywood one fateful day, his request so simple that Vince was allowed to tackle it. The first time he was trusted with a "special" customer on his own. The task: "correct" the milage of the suit's car, easy as pie. Vince had mastered similar feats as a teenager already.

What should have been a quick-and-easy job though uncovered something Jenkins did not like at all - a well-hidden tracker following his every move, and had it not been for Vince's experience with these things, it would have remained undiscovered most likely. Jenkins left the shop satisfied but also curious... How come a low-life street-punk like that knew so much about Militech tracker signatures?

A few days later Vince was intercepted by Jenkins on his way home. Initially not too impressed by the corpo throwing around random facts about Vince's not-so-secret past that anyone with too much time on their hands could have uncovered, Jenkins had an ace in the hole. Vince was confronted not only with a part of his past not even he himself was aware of at this point... but also an offer too intriguing to pass up...

Vince through the years (4/9)

Fun fact: I'm fully abusing this little project to showcase all the hairstyles I almost gave Vince when I first made him in CC XD This wasn't my second or third choice, but I considered it! It's just so funky-looking with the two colors, super bold, and it does really fit him during that time in his life where he doesn't give a fuck about anything at all anymore. He goes a bit more wild with his appearance, dares to experiement more and grows into his own person... only for Jenkins to show up just in time to ruin everything, the bastard (affectionate).

I don't want to spoil too much about what exactly it is that Jenkins knows about Vince's past that made him eventually follow him into Arasaka's loving embrace, cause I still wanna write this scene out in detail in my background fic for Vince :3 It isn't just one detail or one thing either, it's a multitude of factors, promises, secrets, opportunities, combined with Vince's hunger for more than being a little part-time mechanic in a sleazy auto shop, more than a roadie or retail worker, just more... because he knows he has the potential for it, and Jenkins is holding all the keys to unlock it in that moment.

And yes, this is all one hell of a fateful coincidence, but it's those that make a good story. As for the task Vince was given with resetting the car's mileage: he had done similar things to his mother's car as a teen, when he "borrowed" it late at night to go on joyrides with his "friends" at the time and she was not supposed to notice. His mother also had connections and friends at Militech that supplied her with little tracking devices to keep her unruly child in check, and once Vince noticed that he learned to spot and disable them as well.

Also, tiny detour to/ easter egg for "Love is Stored in the Olive Jar", if you've been keeping up with that!

The car in the background of the upper pic and more prominently in the second with Jackie is Vince's first car, a pale blue Archer Quartz. The (almost) same model Mr. B provided as a getaway vehicle in chapter one of my post-ending fic, that Vince has to abandon at an auto repair shop :3c Oh, how could Mr. B have known these details of Vince's past...

Speaking of Vince's past and the quote I put at the very top of the post! Vince isn't hiding the fact that he's trans, it's a part of his story and he's proud of his identity. So, when Jenkins wonders if he's Kousuke Ezaki's son, Vince reacts the way he does because for one, by the time his father had died he hadn't realized himself yet that he was trans. And secondly, even if he had, he knew his father well enough to know he would never have accepted him the way he is, for a variety of reasons.

In this moment he learns an important thing about Jenkins: that he's a manipulative bastard trying to tug on his heartstrings, but he only has outdated, surface-level information - or is at least willing to reveal only that for starters.

[adhd-merlin]

Merlin S1 rewatch: episode 5

here we go! again!!

today we are watching the Lancelot episode. just a few random comments because. I am so very sleepy and I deleted the first draft by accident.

A nice little episode all in all. Nice set up for an incredibly sexy recurring character. Some nice foreshadowing. What's not to like?

• I like how this episode opens. Merlin picking mushrooms, looking so baby. Eyes full of awe and wonder. Looking like... like he's never seen a mushroom in his life, in fact. Anyway, something very cottagecore about this. Fairy vibes.

• Also he's scarfless? For much (most?) of the episode? It looks like early in the series they weren’t so obsessively attached to Merlin’s neckerchief as part of his character design

• I love how Merlin doesn’t even try to use magic against the Griffin. He just falls on his back, shuts his eyes and goes, “Welp, guess I'll die”

• HOW DID MERLIN CARRY LANCELOT BACK TO CAMELOT

• “Ever since I was a child I've dreamed of coming here. It's my life's ambition to join the knights of Camelot.” -> Guy who's spent his whole life dreaming about becoming a knight of Camelot doesn’t know the first thing about the job requirements

• (No but really, the funniest thing about this episode for me is Lancelot’s utter shock at finding out only noblemen can be knights. That's, like. The first thing about the knights of Camelot, it seems like. You’d think he would have done some basic research beforehand. But that's also how I apply to jobs so I won't make fun of him too much)

• Merlin is such a hype man, “LANCELOT THEY'RE GOING TO LOVE YOU!!” This is literally what he says! He’s adorable.

• Merlin's acting like a kid who's found a stray puppy on the side of the road and is trying to convince his dad to keep him. “He’s great, you’ll love him, I promise. He won’t be any trouble I’ll walk him every day”

• MERLIN: “He's saved my life” / ARTHUR: “That's blown it for starters” -> ARTHUR IS FUNNY. I just feel the need to point out that Arthur is funny, actually. Especially when he’s being a cunt.

• MERLIN: “You're not a nobleman by any chance, are you?” / LANCE: “haha, good lord, no” -> someone didn’t read the job description 👀

• The way Gaius pointedly glares at Merlin after telling Lancelot he’s sorry he can’t be a knight… Like, he knows his son might be tempted to do something stupid about it (commit crime)

• I did not remember Lancelot’s tragic Origin Story!

When I was a boy, my village was attacked by raiders from the northern plains. They were slaughtered where they stood, my father, my mother. Everyone. I alone escaped. I vowed that day that never again would I be helpless in the face of tyranny. I made sword craft my life. Every waking hour since that day, I devoted to the art of combat, and when I was ready, I set forth for Camelot.

"Every waking hour since that day, I devoted to the art of combat" -> Yeah that sounds like a sane and healthy way of dealing with the trauma of losing both your parents and your entire village in one go, well done my boy

• Merlin looks SO proud of his little fraud scheme! BE GAY DO CRIME

• Seriously he is such an instigator! He says, “DAMN THE RULES, THE RULES ARE WRONG”! But he can see Lancelot’s obvious reluctance so he’s like, “We're not breaking the rules, we're bending them” HE’S SO SNEAKY I LOVE HIM

• This is such a basic narrative trope (if it even is a trope) but I love first meetings of characters who are going to become famously important to one another. I'm talking, like, Holmes and Dr. Watson. Or yes, Merlin and future King Arthur. There’s just something about it that I find delightful. "They don’t even know!! They have no idea. But I do!" This is about Gwen and Lancelot.

• Such a cute Meet Cute™. I love the way it plays with what we know is going to happen. Even if we don’t exactly know how it's going to happen in the series, Guinevere and Lancelot’s romance is the stuff of legends. I love their obvious and immediate mutual attraction. The slight awkwardness. The foreshadowing! “I'm not a knight yet, my lady” / “And I’m not a lady.” NO YET, BUT YOU WILL BE!! AAAAAH

• I didn’t pay much attention to it the first time I watched this episode but Lancelot speaks in such a formal, lofty way compared to everyone else. He literally sounds like he walked out of a book of chivalric romance. "I faced it myself, Sire. Some days past. I struck it full square. I wondered how it endured"; "Arthur stands in mortal peril", like WHO TALKS LIKE THIS. BE NORMAL. But it never crosses the line into being obnoxious, and I love how his character is defined through his speech as well as by his behaviour. Well done, writers.

• LANCELOT: "Are you two...you know" -> Lancelot wastes no time in checking if Gwen is on the market. GOOD FOR HIM. (I like how Merlin finds the idea of dating Gwen literally laughable. Bit harsh, that).

• “She seems lovely. Guinevere.” / “Oh, yeah. Yeah, she is. And the best seamstress in Camelot, I promise” -> MERLIN THIS MAN DOES NOT CARES ABOUT GWEN'S SKILL AS A SEAMSTRESS OPEN YOUR EYES YOU SILLY CHILD

• (But no, to be fair to him, he did notice)

• Arthur just... just BITCH-SLAPPING Lancelot out of the blue is actually hilarious. He's a comedian and he doesn't even know it.

• Merlin still acts like a bit of a teenager with Gaius in this ep. When Gaius discovers his forgery of the seal of nobility, Merlin tells him, “if you wanna punish me for it, go ahead” and then walks off! I’m sorry, this is a teenager acting out against his dad.

• Merlin does seem to be still testing boundaries with Gaius, but in a way that's an obvious request for reassurance, too – later in the episode he asks him: “Do you even care what happens to me?” (!!) And back in episode 1x02, when Gaius said, "What do I do if you get caught?", Merlin asked: "what would you do?" Insecure teen behaviour. Please Gaius just tell him you love him!! (He does tell him here, thank God).

• The broomstick fight scene. Much has been said about it already. The rituals are, indeed, intricate. Something so homoerotic about Arthur’s attempts to poke Lancelot in the chest with his stick. What I want to know is – did they know? Did they know when they were filming it that it would look like this. Like, was it deliberate

• @sapphickittykatherine it’s not much but there are some hints of Morlance in this ep. During Lancelot’s knighting scene, Morgana looks at him with obvious interest and asks “Who is this man?” And also later at his celebration (I’ll get to it).

The celebration scene! I love it! I’m gonna break it down into parts:

• “You played God, Merlin" -> I like this line. I think Gaius put his finger on an important character trait of Merlin’s here. He always means well, but he can be manipulative and controlling. Not so much here, perhaps, but it does emerge more in later eps.

• Not Arthur looking at Morgana with incestuous intent 💀💀💀

• “Tell me, do you think her...beautiful?” / “Yes, Sire. I do.” -> Another favourite trope of mine – two characters talking to each other but having two entirely different conversations. A bit like that cursed scene in the Disir, and with Arthur just as much oblivious (actually, could someone tell the poor guy what's going on. just once)

• Meanwhile, Morgana’s making sexy eyes at Lancelot while biting into a… cherry? I can’t tell. Some kind of sexually-connoted fruit, that’s for sure. I love how she also looks murderous while doing it. Praying mantis energy.

• Merlin and Gwen’s conversation is so cute. I’ve said it before but it’s giving girlie-and-her-gay-best-friend vibes. Look at them! They are a woman and her gay friend sitting in a bar, exchanging notes about the men around them. Over drinks. The way Merlin encourages Gwen to commit mischief too! “OH YOU ARE NO FUN GWEN. COME ON, JUST PLAY ALONG. WHO WOULD YOU RATHER F—”

• Arthur or Lancelot? I think I know what Merlin’s answer would be. At least at this point in the series. (Hint: it's not Arthur).

• “I think our Sir Lancelot might have eyes for you, Gwen” -> Merlin playing matchmaker already. I love that he’s noticed, and that he’s trying to push these two together because LOVE MUST TRIUMPH. He’s such a romantic.

~ END OF THE CELEBRATION SCENE ~

• Oooh no, Lancelot’s ruse has been discovered, SIR YOU’RE UNDER ARREST

• “You are not worthy of the knighthood bestowed upon you. You never were. And you never will be” -> possibly the worst thing anyone could’ve said to Lancelot, SIR PLEASE STOP YOU’RE BREAKING HIM. CAN’T YOU SEE HE’S ABOUT TO CRY.

• All I can think about when I see gifs of Merlin talking to imprisoned Lancelot is, “it’s okay hun”

• It’s interesting to see S1 Uther so unwilling to accept that the creature they’re trying to defeat might be magic when later in the series he will relish the chance of accusing anything and anyone of being magic. ...Growth?

(The bisexuality of this scene. Off the charts.)

• It seems to me like they were setting up Lancelot to be more of an important character that he ended up being? I mean, he was important, just by virtue of being Lancelot, but he was in a grand total of 6 episodes. But, I love that we can see Arthur’s obvious attachment (for lack of a better word) to him already. A bit like with Gwen and Lancelot, it hints at what’s to come – he is destined to become Arthur’s favourite knight (I know people like to say that it's Leon, but I think it was Lance. And after Lancelot's death it was Mordred, eventually. If you must know.) I love it, foreshadowing. You can feel the future hanging heavy in the air.

• I didn’t remember that Gwen and Lancelot met again and she begged him not to go and I think they should have kissed here

• It’s so funny that while Merlin’s trying to master the spell to defeat the Griffin, Gaius goes, “Don't worry Merlin, we have plenty of time” GAIUS NO YOU LITERALLY HAVE LESS THAN 2 HOURS

• Actually this is a thing Gaius does a lot, telling Merlin he can make it when the chances of success are pretty slim, which on one hand is very sweet, like I get it he's being a supportive dad, but on the other hand it's also... setting Merlin up to be HUGELY DISAPPOINTED if he fails? I don't know, just something I've noticed in other eps.

• The scene of Lancelot killing the Griffin is actually pretty cool? I like the glowing blue spear (how did Merlin think Lancelot wasn’t going to notice) and THE SOUNDTRACK!!

• Merlin's PURE JOY after Lancelot's killed the Griffin is SO adorable, you just feel so happy for him. YES BABY YOU DID IT!!

• I love the parallel “You did it!” scenes with Arthur & Lancelot, Gaius & Merlin, and Arthur & Uther. Very nice, big fan of symmetry

• Gaius’s pride when Merlin comes back victorious is so heartwarming. I’ve said it before but I'll repeat it, Merlin and Gaius’s relationship is possibly my favourite in the show. I think Gaius doesn’t get enough credit for being Merlin’s main source of love and hugs during his Camelot years.

• “The Code bends for no man” / “Then THE CODE IS WRONG!” (!!) -> SAY IT LOUDER MY MAN!! S1 Arthur is so vocal with his father about what he believes is right and wrong, we love to see it

• Lancelot saying he must prove himself worthy of being a knight – of course, he might have been holding the spear that killed the Griffin but he wasn’t the one who actually defeated it, and this will not do. He must now abandon his life-long dream of being a knight and go fight strangers in a cage for money. It’s the only logical next step.

• LANCE I LOVE YOU BUT WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS

THE END!!

next episode is... one no one really cares about, but I really really liked it the first time I watched it so. hopefully it will live up to what I remember :3

[mythicamagic]

Bloodstained Roses: A Chevalier x MC two-shot. Part One.

Summary: Chevalier has been hiding a secret affliction, something he comes to learn as: Hanahaki Disease.

AN: Part two is almost finished and will feature smut. Please comment if you want to be tagged for the next part- but feel free to read it on ao3.

EDIT: Part two be here

TW: Blood

-----------

Gloved fingers found the base of his neck, massaging his throat for the umpteenth time that day. Chevalier frowned, words shifting out of focus on the page of his recently acquired book on Arthurian Legend. 

Odd. He didn't usually get sick. Logically he assumed a sore throat was the prelude to a cold, but this particular irritation had been with him for more than a week. It was beginning to affect his voice, and that was not acceptable. Perhaps he’d have to swallow his pride and seek out medicine after all. 

Chevalier cleared his throat, trying to mask the wince on his face.

A faint noise caught his attention- the soft click of a door falling shut.

“Good afternoon, Prince Chevalier.”

Blond lashes swept shut briefly in a silent wince. Hello idiotic Rabbit.

He said nothing in response to her greeting, refocusing on the page and trying to ignore the way his body responded to her presence. The room seemed just a little warmer. The pain in his throat mercifully died down.

As per usual, she approached without an ounce of wariness, beginning to browse through his private collection. No one else had access to his personal library as she did. Well…no one else had mustered the courage to ask him for one of his books either. 

"How are you enjoying it?" Her gentle voice caressed his hearing again. 

Chevalier looked up from his position, reclined on a sofa in the library. He noticed her motioning with a smile to his book.

"It's fine. Better than the ones that focused on Lancelot and Guinevere."

Emma gave a short, soft giggle, continuing to peruse the volumes on the towering shelves. "I thought you'd say that."

Chevalier sat up, watching the arch of her back as she bent to squint at certain titles, running a finger over the spines in a way he shouldn’t have paid so much attention to. 

"Although…I found the part where Arthur let Morgause into his bed incredibly foolish."

Her delicate finger paused on an old tomb. Chevalier imagined bringing it to his mouth and running teeth and tongue over her hand. 

"Yes, I agree. He's so wounded by Lancelot and Guinevere's love but commits an affair himself. It's messy," she murmured, glancing at him. "I suppose a lot of love and relationships are."

He shook himself, closing his book with a firm, dismissive sound. "I've read many stories like it. If that is what love leads to, I've no need of it," he swung long legs off the sofa and stood. Somehow their discussions always devolved into this kind of idiotic talk. 

"Not all love leads to hurt like that," she smiled encouragingly, ever the optimistic voice in his dull, repetitive days.

He frowned, sweeping a frosty gaze over her critically. "What would you know of it?"

Emma blushed, directing her gaze to the ground. Chevalier couldn't resist. He strode over and flicked her forehead. 

"You lecture me blindly, Belle."

"I wasn't lecturing,” she cradled the offended spot, frowning in a way he’d describe as adorable. “Just defending love. Don't you want to marry for lov-"

she stopped, words dying on her tongue- as if realizing mid-sentence the naivety of her words when applied to royalty. His kind wasn't meant to marry for something as precious as personal attachment. 

"I'm sorry, Prince Chevalier," she quickly bowed her head in apology. "I misspoke."

Her sudden formality and inability to meet his gaze only served to irritate him. Chevalier caught Emma's chin, guiding her head to tilt up once more. Strong brown eyes met flinty blue. His breath caught a little. She was truly the only woman who could bare to look him in the eye in such a steadfast manner.

"Of course you did, you're an imbecile, as we've previously established," he smirked. "But I did not ask for an apology, so don't give one."

Emma's face warmed into a much better expression, one more befitting her lovely features. Chevalier shook himself and turned to the shelves as he released her, pretending to browse.

"Is it alright if I…overstep my bounds again and ask you a question?"

Chevalier said nothing but she knew his habits well enough to know that was an answer in itself.

"Does the idea of entering an arranged marriage bother you?"

His gloved finger stopped on a book spine. "It is something expected of royalty. I've long prepared myself for it."

"That doesn't answer my question. Does it bother you?"

He wondered why it mattered so much to her. 

Chevalier ensured his face was blank, voice measured and controlled as he slowly straightened and met her gaze.

"No."

Something dimmed in her eyes. A fire doused. The sight of it caused his throat to tighten, flaring with such immense dryness it made swallowing painful- brittle and sharp.

Chevalier's breath shook, heart squeezing so tight he felt lightheaded. He turned his back to her, blank mask splintering just for a moment. 

What is this affliction?

“I see. I uh- I should probably go, I forgot but Sariel needed me for something-” Emma was muttering, quietly excusing herself. A moment later and that door was clicking shut once more, the small library plunging into silence. Chevalier finally relaxed, gripping the bookshelves to keep upright.

Air was rattling through his throat as he attempted to breathe normally, choking on a cough. The room was spinning. His heart thundered so fast it was like Obsidian were at their gates- beating their infernal war drums. He needed to calm down. Was this a panic attack? Surely not-

He was the Brutal Beast. Immovable, unemotional. And yet he’d never felt more powerless.

Trying to slow his breathing, Chevalier coughed, hard. Tears stung into his eyes, and he doubled over. His legs shook, knees trembling with the effort to keep him upright as he gagged and shook, aware of some unknown thing unfurling in his windpipe and travelling up as he dry heaved. Then, suddenly- it had travelled to his tongue. Chevalier coughed, spitting. Something burst out of his mouth, scattering to the polished hardwood floor like grim, dew-coated confetti and landing in a wet heap. It took a moment before red-rimmed eyes peeled open to look.

Red rose petals awaited him. 

Chevalier stared uncomprehendingly. Shaking fingers touched his lips. When he pulled them away for inspection, his chest tightened. Flecks of blood and spittle had intermingled on his black glove, stark and clear like a fresh wolf's kill on scorched earth. 

----------------------------

He was a creature of habit. As such, the first place he turned to in search of answers was books. Books were reliable. He trusted them to give him what was needed, always. Since Chevalier could not recall eating an entire bouquet of roses and had never seen anything in any medical textbook pertaining to the random vomit-cough of shrubbery, he sought the most forgotten archives for an explanation. 

But there was nothing. 

Not even textbooks from Jade, Bentonite or the furthest, obscure reaches of Obsidian yielded results. Chevalier closed one of his oldest and most precious medical journals. 

His throat had steadily been worsening over the weeks, to the point that his speech was impaired because of it. No amount of honey or herbal remedies soothed the ache. Eating food had become a struggle, and even water made him choke, fighting to keep it down. It felt as though sandpaper coated the inside of his throat, blistering with each strain of his vocal cords. He imagined that was where the blood came from. Fortunately, he wasn’t a very talkative person to begin with. Unfortunately, he had Clavis for a brother. 

“You seem so tight-lipped lately!” Clavis was saying with exaggerated dismay, throwing himself down onto the sofa beside him in the library one rainy afternoon. Chevalier felt himself be jostled, but did not react. “Yves mentioned something about hearing you cough. Has the mighty Brutal Beast finally fallen prey to a mere human illness? The horror! I guess I’ll just have to take over as faction leader. Poor you~ hope it’s nothing serious enough to hinder your abilities with a blade.”

Chevalier said nothing, continuing to ignore him and read his book. If Clavis thought he could send more assassins after him because of this sickness, he was gravely mistaken. 

“Really though, this is highly unusual. Have you really lost your voice?” Clavis peered at him suspiciously. “If that’s the case, the roundtable meeting coming up is sure to be a very interesting affair.”

When Chevalier still didn't answer, his brother’s golden eyes flicked over him, losing some of their mischievous sheen. 

“You could write something down, you know?” he said quietly.

Chevalier finally glanced at him, noticing a rare moment of genuine advice. “...I will…solve this myself.”

"Hmph. Want to know what I think? Of course you do, I have a brilliant mind," Clavis smiled, gaze sharpening. "Books only get you so far. I'm going to call a doctor here to solve this conundrum unless you'll let me examine you myself."

Chevalier made a face, squinting. The royal doctor was a stuffy old man with cold hands. Chevalier had never particularly liked him due to the fear in his eyes. It made his work sloppy. Besides, even if they summoned Four Eyes and he arranged for a new, private doctor- Chevalier knew the experience would be the same. They always looked at him like he’d bite their hand off.

"Fine," he grunted in a clipped tone. He doubted Clavis would be of any help, but perhaps it would be amusing to see his confusion. 

Clavis took to examining him with a seriousness his smile belied. He said something about Chevalier being weakened, making him more of a target for their enemies, but the elder brother was barely paying attention. He concentrated on breathing, unable to suck in air through his mouth properly and instead taking quiet, rasping inhales through his nose when possible. 

Clavis put steady hands on his back and chest, listening as Chevalier struggled, finally having to put an ear to his chest and frowning. Clavis then straightened, lighting a candle. "Open your mouth," he muttered, gesturing.

Reluctantly, Chevalier obeyed, holding still as Clavis leaned in slightly with the use of light to inspect the back of his throat. He suddenly reeled backwards. 

"What in the seven Hells…!?"

The upset jerked Chevalier, and he wheezed, coughing before he could safely smother it behind his glove. A burst of petals scattered out, fanning around Clavis' frozen features. The smile that never left his face wavered, just for a moment. 

To his credit, Clavis didn't make a racket about it. He pulled out a handkerchief, which Chevalier mutely accepted, wiping his pale mouth with trembling fingers. His body felt feverishly warm.

"Well, you're running a temperature," Clavis said calmly. "That's a nasty cough you've got too, but no signs of a traditional cold. Most troubling of all is what looks to be thorns and budding flowers growing at the back of your throat."

Chevalier stopped, staring ahead blankly. Clavis picked up one of the dewy rose petals and inspected it with an unreadable look.

"How?" Chevalier tried, massaging the base of his throat. How was this possible? 

"Don't ask me. The fact that you let me examine you tells me that no medical textbook has ever recorded something like this- since your wonderchild memory never fails,” Clavis tilted his head, considering. “This is more like something out of a fairy tale."

His words sparked something vague inside Chevalier. Fairy tales made him think of Emma. 

He cast his mind back but couldn’t recall any children’s stories pertaining to coughing up roses, but his mental catalogue of such fanciful stories was limited. If anyone would know of one- she would.

-----------------

Clavis had offered to ‘extract’ the small thorns that appeared to be growing inside his throat, but Chevalier declined. Neither brother panicked at the unusual circumstances, yet even Clavis couldn't quite hide his wrinkled brow.

“If you leave it untreated- strange curse or not- you’re likely going to die, dear Brother,” Clavis had smirked, his eyes oddly mirthless. “And I can’t have that. Only I may have the pleasure of killing you after all. I’ll see if I can work on a little something in the meantime…”

Chevalier strode down the hallway, sweat beading on his brow. He doubted that even with Clavis’ pharmacology knowledge that a cure could be made so easily. 

In all honesty, he felt little toward the idea of dying. A kind of cold numbness settled over his shoulders the moment it was suggested. It was irritating of course. Chevalier had no intention of succumbing to something that wasn’t a fatal wound received on the battlefield. Only that kind of death suited him. 

His body would not become an empty vase for flowers. That had never been his destiny.

Firm knuckles rapped on the smooth white wood of a door. Chevalier straightened, knowing the hour was late and his visit was highly unusual. 

Emma’s door cracked open before the woman herself peered out from within her room. A complicated mix of surprise and happiness lit up her features at the sight of him.

Chevalier blinked. Why did she look pleased to see him? Relived? No one ever looked at him like that.

“P-prince Chevalier,” she spoke quietly, opening her door wider. “Is everything alright?”

He slipped inside her room soundlessly, aware of his cloak brushing her side. He glanced around the gently lit space. She’d been reading by candlelight. The sight made his lips faintly curve upwards. 

“Book-” he rasped, taking a slow breath. “I need a fairy tale book. About…roses.”

“Roses? The tale of Beauty and the Beast features a rose?”

He shook his head. “Do you know of one-” he panted softly, forcing his face to remain neutral, “-one that features someone coughing up roses? Perhaps they die- because the flower seems to be growing inside them.”

Brown eyes widened. Emma’s hand subconsciously drifted to her throat, and Chevalier’s eyes followed the action, wondering what it meant. Did she know?

The rabbit didn’t question him further. With a distracted look, she nodded. “I know it. It’s from a country overseas. The tale of Hanahaki Disease. I have a copy back at the bookshop.”

Chevalier waited, knowing he didn’t need to ask. She bit her lip, “did you want to read it?”

He nodded, hands curling into loose fists. He loathed feeling so powerless. “Soon.”

“I can go tomorrow if you like. I’ll be quick?”

“I’ll join you.”

“A-alright?” her brows pulled together, and Emma daringly took a step closer to him. “Prince Chevalier…I couldn’t help but notice that you look much paler lately. If you’re taking on too much work, or need anything at all, I’d be happy to assist.”

Anything?

Several ideas came to mind. All of them oddly gave him some measure of peace. Just the idea of holding her soothed his strained heartbeat. She had such a gentle scent. Like old and new books mixed with fresh sunbathed linens. Perfectly domestic and unremarkable- and yet he’d never wanted anything quite so badly.

“It’s unnecessary to ask. I’m perfectly capable of-”

A cough violently erupted from his throat, harsher and stronger than before. He barely had time to muffle it behind his hand, staggering against the wall.

“Prince Chevalier!”

He barely felt her gentle touch on his back, nor heard her exclamations of alarm. Chevalier concentrated on trying to stabilise his breathing, aware of how rasping and rattling it sounded. Like something was dying in his throat.

“S-should I get Sariel?”

“No-!” he all but snarled, gritting his teeth together. He couldn’t see her expression but he felt her keen worry all the same.

“Wait here- I’ll go fetch some water!” he thought he heard the rabbit say, before dashing off.

Don’t go.

Chevalier squeezed burning eyes shut, aggravated by that pathetic plea in his mind. While alone, he manages to grab a vase of flowers and cough up a lungful of petals he’d been holding back. What alarmed him was when he felt something else coming. Something long and thin that unfurled from the thorns at the back of his throat. Parting pale lips, Chevalier reached in and retrieved the long stem, gagging and finding it a miracle he didn't retch. Gasping harshly, he started at the freed dewy rose, a long stem covered in thorns held between shaking fingers. His laboured, rattling breaths filled the room- and to his own ears, it sounded like the gasps of a dying man.

Hearing Emma’s return, Chevalier placed the vase aside, hoping she’d overlook the newly appeared rose sitting neatly within the arrangement.

A cool glass was shoved into his hands, Emma’s warm brown eyes frozen stiff with worry. To hasten the departure of such a troubled look, Chev took careful sips, relieved when his throat seemed to soothe. He managed to swallow the taste of copper.

“Are you alright?” she murmured, leaning in close. 

He swallowed once more before finding his voice- weaker than usual. “Fine.”

“There was nothing fine about that! Y-you scared me there,” Emma took out her pink, embroidered handkerchief. Chevalier stiffened, feeling her dab it lightly against his cheek. It came away damp- and it was only then he’d noticed his eyes had been leaking. They stung like a wound.

“I’ve never seen you like this before. Have you-" she wet her lips nervously, "have you seen a doctor?”

“It’s not something a… regular doctor can deal with,” he straightened, taking the handkerchief from her and wiping the remainder of his face. Sweat had broken out on his forehead. 

Noticing the roaring silence, blue eyes flicked to her lovely features. Chevalier found his voice gentling. “I am seeking a cure, there’s no need for anyone else to know so tell no one. I’m sure I don’t need to explain the potential ramifications if you did,” he paused, massaging the base of his throat. “Why do you look so concerned?”

“Because I AM concerned!” she burst, stilling and coming back to herself. Sariel’s training seemed to settle over her, a countenance more befitting a Lady. She wore it like armour, and he silently approved.

Emma shook her head, rubbing her throat absentmindedly as if mirroring him. “You always handle everything alone,” she murmured sadly. “There’s something more to this, isn’t there? You can tell me, Prince Chevalier. I wouldn’t betray your trust.”

“Telling you would change nothing. I wouldn’t feel relieved by sharing it. That is a sentiment you and others share…but not me,” he said, voice barely above a whisper as he shifted to lean against her bedroom window, gazing at the dark expanse of gardens outside. The cool glass felt good against his burning skin. “I feel…more assured by handling it alone, as I always have. It is just- a-another way the Brutal Beast differs from you.”

He reached out with the intent of giving her handkerchief back, but gentle fingers pushed up against his hand.

“No, keep it.”

Chevalier blinked, studying her worried features as she looked at him with such heartfelt emotion it made his chest shudder. “I’m sorry for trying to meddle. Just- please bear what I said in mind if you ever feel like talking.”

His heart tripped within his ribcage, squeezing. His fool of a Rabbit was so painfully earnest that it hurt to look at her sometimes. Chevalier scoffed to cover it up, muttering a time for them to meet the following day before stalking out of the room with only the tatters of his dignity intact. 

If he were someone else, anyone else, he’d take Emma up on her generous offer. But he was Chevalier. Brutal Beast and cold second prince of Rhodolite. Feared and isolated since childhood- which suited him just fine.

But Emma was not like him. He’d watched her a few days ago from his position by the office window, observing how she smiled and laughed with royalty such as Black, the Show-off and Bear, acting no differently with servants. 

What would become of someone like that if he shut her in with him? Selfishly stole her away into the labyrinth of his personal library? People would become fearful and wary of her too if she kept company with him. She wouldn’t flourish as she did now, in the light. 

He refused to bind such a rare, precious woman to his side if it meant that smile might wilt from her face. Someone equally as bright and gleaming as she should bask in her sunny warmth. He would be content with watching what became of her. Happiness would always find Emma, Chevalier was certain of it. 

But it wouldn’t if she was his. They were ill suited.

Shaking fingers curled tighter around the pink handkerchief in his hand, before tucking it away in his pocket.