#how did abigail feel knowing after everything she was still going to die?

[mismatchsocks]

we gotta kill hannibal lecter

[alaffy]

The Umbrella Academy, Ep. 4x06 – The End of the Beginning (Spoilers)

Ok, any show that begins their series finale revolution with a Muse song can’t be all bad. 

I have mixed feelings about this ending, but it may not be about what you think.  And I’m not really going to do an in-depth recap here; just a general summary.  I more want to delve into my thoughts about this season and what I thought did and did not work for this finale.

So, really general summary.  The siblings try to stop Ben and Jennifer; but fail.  We find out that Abigail started the cleansing…well, she thought her death was justice for her hubris.  And now she’s dealing with Reginald’s hubris of releasing Marigold into the world all so that he could bring her back.  The reality is, the moment that the Marigold was released into the atmosphere and caused women to suddenly become pregnant, was the moment that the Sacred Timeline (I mean, it might as well be) started to fracture.  And, basically, these universes all form and die because of the siblings trying to save the world.  The only way to restore the timeline back to one timeline is The Cleansing.  And the only way to make sure The Cleansing works is if all of the Marigold is destroyed.  Meaning the siblings must not only die, but essentially erase their existence from all of history.  So, the siblings make the great sacrifice, the timeline is restored, and everyone they’ve ever met (including their own children somehow) live together in a happy timeline.  Don’t think about that last bit too much.

Okay, so here’s the thing….the siblings were destined to die.  I know that some people will be disappointed with that ending; but that’s what the show was headed.  We are shown again and again how their very existence effects the timeline and effects those around them.  It’s not their fault; they sure as hell didn’t ask for this.  However, the only way to guarantee that their timeline stays safe is to remove the one constant in every destruction; them.   So, I don’t have a problem with how the series ended as I do think there was enough evidence to show this conclusion.

My problem with this episode, and this whole season, goes back to the tangents.  You didn’t have to have one last Klaus escapade or the whatever-the-hell that was between Five and Lila to make the ending work.  Hell, it felt weird, even for this team, for them to be just sitting around and wondering why Viktor hasn’t contacted them.  Because the reality is, you had everything you needed for a good ending right from the first episode.  Several years have passed; everyone has their own lives and their own family.  Of course, they’re not going to want the world to end or give up seeing their family again.  So, they’re going to fight and try to stop The Cleanse.  And you still would be able to have that moment where Lila almost decides to go with her children; her having her tryst with Five didn’t cause that.

Most importantly, by just focusing on stopping The Cleanse and saving Ben, there might have been better closure.  Because, while I do think their sacrifice was always where this show was heading, I also think they rushed the ending.  There should have been more time to process this.  More explanation about how and why Abigail created Marigold and Durango. We should have found out Abigail was Sy in episode four.  We should have had The Cleanse start at the end of episode five.  Have episode six start with the fight and then, after they fail, have Abigail explain to Reginald and the siblings why The Cleanse must happen.  At which point, you can have the ending where they gather the family; where Lila almost goes with them; where they sacrifice in the end and it doesn’t feel so…abrupt.  It’s like the first three seasons where climbing up a large mountain in order to set up the story; but then, instead of climbing back down to the conclusion, they just jumped off a cliff.  They didn’t give enough time for the conclusion and it isn’t because of the shortened episode order; it’s because they put things in the last season that weren’t needed. And that annoys the hell out of me, because this could have been so much better.

Now, the last season doesn’t ruin the show for me.  I still think, for the most part, this is an excellent show.  But they didn't stick the landing.

[tua-five]

Season 3 Episode 10

"Oblivion"

There's a couple references to all seasons here

The last episode of season 3. Tomorrow is the day.

Ben flicking the tail 😭

This is so sad. I'm not ready. I'm so scared. Just thinking that Luther and Klaus died... I mean, I know everything is fine at the end of the episode, but right now... they're like, dead dead.

It's crazy how Klaus doesn't like pineapple on pizza. Him out of all the siblings, should.

"Nah, it's like the old man said. Once is happenstance, twice is coincidence, and three times ain't gonna happen 'cause I'm not a gibbering idiot." Fair enough.

"Hey, buddy 🤗"

"You 👿"

Speaking of the bouncy house. When Klaus lands, he says, "This is someone's idea of heaven?"

There's a couple of things with that. First of all, yes. Second of all, the fact that it is, means it's most likely a kid. And it's really sad to think that a kid died. There's a whole birthday party behind them... so that just makes me curious.

Also, him saying this means that that is how it works. When you die, you go to a place that you imagine to be heaven.

Reginald does have a point. Ben says that he made it happen. Being in Hotel Oblivion. But seriously. He did nothing to contribute to that fact.

Love how Five came out of the room, and it changed to number 5.

Reginald is genuinely surprised when Klaus comes. Just thought I'd point it out.

"You're going to ruin everything!"

"Oh, if I had a nickel for every time I heard that, I'd have a dollar."

Well, you know. Maybe this time, it's better to ruin everything.

They're all like, which idiot sibling rang the bell, when really it was the idiotic manipulative Sir Reginald Hargreeves.

Diego panicking and asking what floor is so real, though.

"Revenge looks good on her."

"Would you shut up and help us kill this thing?"

And then Ben just sits there. Watching.

And again, Five with the axe 😭

Love that for him.

Oh, yay. Ben finally contributing. I think part of it is because part of him is still umbrella Ben. And scared of his powers.

That or he's just a wimp.

And I love the Lila-Viktor duo. "This feels oddly familiar."

"At least this time we're not aiming at each other."

Very true. Now kill it.

Great. Now Five has lost his arm.

And Luther... 🥺😢

And the life being sucked out of them... (for some of them again if we go back to season 1).

The most impressive thing about reginald isn't that he is an alien. It's that his monocle stayed on when he fell over and died.

Ray being here, in this timeline, isn't right. He said it himself in season 2. He didn't want to come with to 2019. He had to stay for the movement. And now he's here. That's got to mess things up. The huterrfly effect. I don't care if it's a whole new timeline and it's reset. It isn't supposed to be like this.

"Obsidian Memorial Park. Graciously donated by Sir Reginald Hargreeves this 1st day of October 1989."

That date seems to always pop up. We all connect it to the Hargreeves's birthday. But it was never about them, was it? No. It's always been about Reginald. And Abigail. I'd say it's the day she died, but that isn't true. Reginald came to Dalas after she died way before 1989. So something else happened.

"Well, what are we supposed to do?"

"Live our lives." Yeah. And that's what you do. For six years, five months, and two days. Because you guys will never get peace.

What I don't like is Five looks so distraught. Confused. Yet there are no words when he looks at Viktor. Then turns and leaves.

And they all live their lives separately. Trying to figure out how to be normal again. For some, just trying to figure out how to be normal, how to live, for the first time. While Allison and Reginald get the life they wanted.

And Ben goes away on train. After being rude and grouchy, he smiles.

Here's a few gifs, but I'll actually create separate posts of just todays gifs.

[softrozene]

Deserve Better

Anonymous requested: I adore your Molly x fem and I died at the fact they didn’t recognize Dutch in the bar. Can I get something similar but with Abigail? Like a f!reader shows Abby how she should be treated post ganvg and whisks her away from John? please don’t hurt my boy too much 😂 much love ❤️ 

rdr2 masterlist

AKFDA Thank you! I am so glad you like my Molly stuff- And this? This is genius. I love the Marston family with all my heart but sometimes I agree that Abigail should be treated better (Thankfully we get that in the epilogue of the game- For however long that lasts :’))

Also, I know you said post gang but I just had to do it during.

Originally published on January 6, 2021

Abigail Roberts (Marston) x Female Reader

Warnings: Fluff, technical cheating? Abigail leaves John - John is like “wtf is going on”, per request John is not hurt that much - Just in shock, best friends to lovers.

Words: ~1,100

-

In her own way, Abigail has always been really proud of you. You have never backed down from anyone despite being a woman yourself- And tend to take on the “manlier” missions to prove the men wrong. She looked up to you- Especially since you were there the year John left the gang.

It was tough on her, but you were her rock and best friend.

It was one of the reasons why she did not think much about Sadie also taking on a more masculine role. It was more fitting, and she loved how you and Sadie stood up for the women of the group- It was refreshing.

She could tell you everything- All her worries, even those she was too afraid to tell Hosea or Arthur. She confidently told you because you just listened. You did not offer advice unless she asked and you while everyone was rather careful with their words to avoid her wrath when it comes to the truth- You are blunt.

That is why she never really thought of you as a partner- Not until now when she asked for advice after seeing John, completely drunk, asking Karen to hook up. Thankfully, the latter had enough respect for Abigail and told John to basically fuck off.

Abigail had unfortunately overheard this encounter- But instead of her usual anger she felt towards John, she felt rather… Defeated.

Thus, making her come to you and this time instead of venting, asking for advice on what she should do. How to stop making a man who is too hesitant to her and somehow still denying Jack- Love them? How can she stop loving him despite all the pain he keeps causing her?

She thought she was going to lose him up in that mountain- She truly was grateful he was brought back alive but now… It feels like something did die back up there.

So now- She stares into your serious gaze and feels a bit nervous at your thoughts. You were not going to sugar-coat anything, and it truly was one of those traits she adores from you.

However, the first words that fly out of your mouth leave her in shock.

“You deserve better,” You state.

You go silent again and she processes what you say- Trying to fight off the anger and need to defend John because you are her best friend and she asked her for advice. She will listen to it with an open heart. You let out a sigh and look to be contemplating something.

Then finally you continue, “Listen- Abby. You deserve so much better. I know the love you have for John is strong and I can see as clear as day that he loves you too, in his own slightly fucked up way, but in the end, what you need is someone who will be there for you always. You not only have yourself to think of but you have Jack. I respect John I do but he is a shit father- He has been avoiding that boy since he was born- He even went out of his way to leave for a whole year. He is still pushing him away. I do not know what to tell you about that but for Jack’s sake, you need to figure out if you want that indecisive man to be in your life… Or-“

You stop talking making her serious expression urge you on. You do after you sigh.

“Or I can help you. Jack can’t have this life forever and he should get a shot at a normal life. We can leave the gang for good, I am already a pretty decent shot- I can get a job as a hunter or whatever, maybe even a bounty hunter, it doesn’t matter to me but I will help you get a beautiful home. I will help you whether that means just as best friends, Jack’s second mom, or even as a lover to you- You name it and I will do it,” You state.

Abigail pauses. Her expression falls as she processes your words and then she realizes that you technically confessed to her. That you have a thing for her. This brutally honest confession is opening up her eyes.

“Listen, forget I said anything about the lover part. I did not mean to make it weird. I will give you time to think about it and just know I did mean the last part. I will do whatever you name,” You say.

No- Abigail does not need time. She has not felt her heart race like this since she first fell for John. She can feel the honesty in your voice and to be honest- She did not think a fellow woman could be her lover but hearing you say it?

It is clicking into place. You have been there since Jack was born. You comforted her when John left- You have always been her rock- Her best friend. Maybe you were destined to be her lover? Open up her eyes and be there for her and Jack since John painfully does not want to.

“Let’s go then. Right now as lovers. I will go back up Jack’s things,” Abigail states seriously.

You raise an eyebrow and before you ask if she is sure- She nods her head. “Right now. I am going to explain to at least Arthur and Hosea since they care about Jack and I.”

“Alrighty- I will pack up the horses,” You say a smile on your face.

Your heart races and you feel… Happy- Not just because Abigail just said you can be lovers, but she is willing to leave everyone with you for her and Jack’s sake. She trusts you and you promise to not let them down.

Immediately- You can hear John’s shouts and wondering what the hell is going on. He shouts, “Where you going, Abigail? Where you taking the kid?”

He does not say his kid. When John follows her to your horse- He looks even more confused. Jack looks excited.

You help Abigail and Jack onto one of the horses (with the promise you will return or compensate it) for Hosea before getting onto yours. The whole time Abigail and John argue, and he finally gets fed up.

“Good riddance then.  Though I know you and you will come back eventually but hopefully you do not. Keep that kid for all I care,” He grumbles as he contradicts himself both in voice and looks.

You give Abigail one last look- To turn down your offer and yourself and instead she takes your horse’s reins and begins to lead the way to your new life together.

[thisselflovecamebacktome]

Don't look at me, you've got a girl at home and everybody knows that.

I'm like the water when your ship rolled in that night, rough on the surface but you cut through like a knife. And I can picture it after all these days. [I] never called it what it was 'til we were dead and gone and buried. We kept everything professional, but something's changed. I can see the end before it begins. You look like my next mistake. “How'd we end up on the floor?”, you say “Your roommate's cheap ass rosé, that's how”. I see you every day now. I think I've seen this film before, and I didn't like the ending. Your sweet disposition and my wide eyed gaze, we're singing in the car getting lost upstate. Like you were my closest friend. You gave me roses, and I left them there to die. I don't even know her, but I feel a responsibility to do what's upstanding and right. So I'm leaving out the side door. That was when I got to know 'Mr Change of Heart'. I just wanna make sure you understand perfectly, you're the kind of man who makes me sad. Were you a sleeper cell spy? In 50 years will all this be declassified? And you'll confess why you did it, and I'll say “good riddance”. Because now that I'm sitting here thinking it through, I've never been anywhere cold as you. While she waits up, you chase down the newest thing and take for granted what you had. I was never good at telling jokes, but the punchline goes I'll get older but your lovers stay my age from when your Brooklyn broke my skin and bones, I'm a solider who's returning half her weight. And I lost you, the one I was dancing with in New York. Told me I'm better off, but I'm not. I think I've seen this film before. So I'll walk out of here tonight, try to go on with my life and you can say we're still friends. [She sits] in class next to a redhead named Abigail and soon enough [they're] best friends. I'd give all I have honey, if [they] could stay like that. Took our broken hearts and put them in a drawer. The secret we all vowed to keep it from [them] in sweetness. 'Cause you weren't mine to lose. Now you're in my backyard, turned into good neighbours. All this showmanship to keep it for [them] in sweetness. And I make the same mistakes every time, bridges burn, I never learn, at least I did one thing right. Cold was the steel of my axe to grind for the boys who broke my heart, now I send their babies presents. And what's that that I heard? That you're still with her? That's nice, I'm sure that's what's suitable and right. I guess sometimes we all get just what we wanted, just what we wanted.

So don't look at me, you've got a girl at home and everybody knows that.

[scarfacemarston]

Abigail Roberts A-Z Fluff Prompt

The rest are found through here. E - Ending (if they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Breakups are always awkward, but she has had some experience with it - just not in conventional ways. As a sex worker, some clients would fall in love with her, and she would have to carefully and gently break it off.

She was professional but kind about it. You never know how people are going to react. She ended her relationship with John in the epilogue completely devastated. It was an act of finality that was the result of a woman at her wit's end. However, once John won her back, there was no way she would ever leave him again unless he went back to his old ways.

If it's someone outside of John, she would be quiet and keep it together the best she can. It comes off as a little "professional" sounding, but that is her way of trying not to fall apart or making it messier than needed. She'll say her piece and then wish you the best, and that is that. 

F - Fiancé (how do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

As mentioned before, she never expected to have a real family after everything she went through. She thought John would be her chance, but those dreams were dashed until chapter 3. It's definitely something she's craved, but after John, she felt like no one would want a "used-up single mother." If it was an OC/Sadie, they would have to take a lot of time to earn her trust, but once she did? Head over heels, ride or die. She fantasized about the family with John, and it was a dream when it finally happened. However, I think it would happen quicker with a different partner because of less baggage. She definitely wants to get married, whether it's formal or a Boston marriage, if she's with a woman.

G - Gentle (how gentle they, both physically and emotionally?) Canon Abigail is very strong. We see her in Chapter 1 hauling John to the wagon with Charles's help………she takes at least ⅓ of the strength. She also can tack by herself, as seen in the epilogue. I would also imagine she has some strength from carrying Jack around all day. HOWEVER, if we're talking about physical touch, she is very gentle, ----but lord behold, if she needs to prevent you from going somewhere, she has a freakishly strong grip. Jack and John know this very well. She gently pats people on the shoulder or gives the lightest of touches on the back in a soothing way. 

Emotionally - she is a tough woman who doesn't like to wear her emotions on her sleeve - despite that, she still manages to show her depression and anger when she doesn't want to. However, this is usually in extreme circumstances. She is a tell it as it is a person like Molly, but she is very tactful in how she speaks. She is also gentle with Tilly but also tries to help her see things she didn't see before. She is extraordinarily gentle with Sadie and Jack. She tries to with John, but she is very insecure about it, considering how often she's rebuffed.

H: Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Abigail is definitely a hugger once she knows you. She gives tight, bone-crushing hugs. The type where you're like, "How does this slight woman have this much strength!" They're warm and safe. She especially gives them when she's excited. See Jack in chapter 4, Arthur and John in chapter 5, and Sadie and John in the epilogue. I'm pretty sure she's also given Charles a bone-crushing hug. She's just so full of joy when she's hugging someone she cares about. However, they can also be sweet and tender, especially with people like Jack, but he's not the only one. She'd do the same for her partner, depending on the situation.

[fandomficsnstuff]

Witches and Wizards - 13

(Warnings: Angst, a hint of fluff, more fluff, Merlin being a worry wart but with good reason, more angst, a hope of fluff before even more angst:3)

Note: I once read parts of a fic where the reader has magic and goes back in time, meeting Merlin. I sadly can’t find it anymore. Also Fred didn’t die in this.

Clothes: Luxury fashion & independent designers | SSENSE | Ball dresses, Evening dresses, Fashion (pinterest.dk) 

Hair: Pin by Abigail Avitia Fazz on Abs | Hair styles, Long hair styles, Curly hair styles (pinterest.dk) 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He was silent as she watched over Ophelia, a constant frown on his brows, as it had been for weeks now, his eyes locked onto Ophelia’s pale face. He could still see the blood. It had been washed a hundred times but every time he looked at that golden-white hair, he saw blood. He was on the verge of leaving when Ophelia finally moved. After three weeks of laying still, almost as though dead, she moved. Ophelia’s brows scrunched together, the ache in her body making her wince as she forced her eyes open, squinting at the sudden light compared to the darkness behind her eyelids. “Ophelia!” Ophelia turned her head to look at who had said her name with such glee, tears filling her eyes when she saw Merlin smile at her. “Merlin?” her voice was weak and hoarse, Merlin nodding eagerly, leaning forward to gently stroke her hair when she suddenly shot upwards, nearly headbutting him if he hadn’t moved out of the way so fast. “Merlin! They took Gaius!! They took Gaius! T-There was one w-who was wearing these robes and one who was tall and they-”

“It’s alright, Ophelia, it’s oka-”

“What?! No it’s not, Merlin!! Gaius has been taken!!”

“Well I’d say it’s quite a poor attempt, since I’m here” Gaius piped up, Merlin smiling over his shoulder while Ophelia stared at him with wide eyes, filled with tears. “You’re okay…” she barely whispered, Gaius walking over with a smile, taking Merlin’s place at her bedside when Merlin got up, gently holding her hand as she reached for him. “You’re here…”

“I’m here” he confirmed, about to say something else when Ophelia launched forward, hugging him tightly, tighter than she had hugged anyone but Merlin, it took the old physician a while to register what was going on, but when he did, he gladly welcomed it, hugging Ophelia tightly with a smile, gently patting her back “it’s alright, my dear. It’s alright” he soothed, enjoying the moment until she quickly broke away from him “so… I-... I was just dreaming?”

“No… I’m afraid not…” Gaius admitted, still holding one of her hands, giving her a soft smile at her obvious worry for him “but everything is as it should be, now” he stated softly, Ophelia letting out a shaky breath of relief and confusion, nodding to herself. She turned to look at Merlin, giving him a sad smile that Gaius caught on to. “I’ll let Merlin tell you what happened” he stated softly, standing up and leaving the room, Merlin walking over and sitting back down on the bed again. “Gaius… is he-... he wasn’t hurt, was he?” she asked quietly with a frown, Merlin gently shaking his head “no, as far as I know, you’re the only one who actually was injured severely” Merlin added with amusement, Ophelia blushing as she scoffed and looked away “yeah well, they wouldn’t have stood a chance if I had my wand out” she muttered with slight embarrassment, Merlin beginning to laugh which made her laugh as well. “How long was I…” she trailed off, Merlin smiling softly at her as he reached and placed a strand of white-golden hair behind her ear “three weeks… Gaius was concerned but he knew what to do to keep you well and alive, he said you’d wake up any day now” he murmured, Ophelia sighing heavily “well… at least it wasn’t four weeks” she muttered jokingly, sharing an amused smile with Merlin before leaning forward, her head on his shoulder, eyes closed as he held her, enjoying feeling her in his arms, properly this time. “Where’s Gwen?” Ophelia asked quietly, feeling Merlin tense up, her eyes opening, the feeling of bliss fading away as she leaned back and looked up at Merlin with a frown. “Merlin?... Where’s Gwen?...”

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

Ophelia was quiet as she stared at the table, the food on her plate untouched, the books in her room gathering dust from never being picked up and read. Arthur watched from the doorway, a frown on his brows, arms crossed over his chest as it appeared she had not yet noticed him. “It’s rude to stare” she suddenly spoke up, turning to glare at Arthur, his blood running cold at the dead look in her eyes, the anger. “It’s the first time you’ve spoken to me in nearly two months” he pointed out, being met with more silence as she turned her head away from him again, making Arthur nervously shift his weight a little, arms dropping from across his chest. “Merlin tells me you haven’t been eating much…” Arthur muttered, Ophelia scoffing quietly, shaking her head as she stood up and walked away from the table “go ahead” she muttered, gesturing to the food before sitting down behind her desk, picking up her quill and opening a book, dipping the quill in ink and writing something that Arthur couldn’t tell from this distance. “Ophelia-”

“Sire.”

“Must it really be like this??”

“Well, let’s see…. You banished Gwen for something she couldn’t help because Morgana used magic, you take your uncle’s side in everything, even when he’s been wrong on every single account, you act like you want equality yet everytime someone who isn’t your uncle tries to tell you something you don’t want to hear it, just because they’re not dear old uncle Agravaine! It’s rather Agravaine ruling instead of you, he’s got his hand up your arse like a damn muppet!” Ophelia snapped as she got up, placing her quill down on the table before walking around the desk to face Arthur. “He accused Gaius of something horrendous, while Gaius was being tortured, loyal to you through every step of that pain, while you betrayed him with your suspicions and lack of belief. Next, he convinces you to banish a woman who would do anything for you, because of something that obviously involved magic-”

“You don’t know tha-”

“NOTHING SUCCEEDS DEATH, ARTHUR!! You don’t get to die and come back, magic isn’t that foolish. No one can beat death and what Lancelot walked into, FOR YOU, was death. There is no grey area, no silver lining, he died! Merlin had his suspicions that he wasn’t truly Lancelot but did you ever think to listen? No. And your uncle was the one to beat the thought of banishing Gwen into your thick head! Every time he has opened his mouth, he has been wrong and something horrible and painful has happened! Gaius was questioned, then he gets kidnapped and tortured while Agravaine convinces you that Gaius fled and INJURED ME! Do you honestly think that Gaius would ever betray you and injure anyone?! Now Gwen is gone and Agrvaine is never questioned. So yes, ‘Sire’, apparently it has to be like this, and while everyone else who know you, love you, care about you, see the truth, you duck your head in the sand and do whatever Agravaine want” Ophelia snapped, glaring harshly at a very shocked Arthur “so get out of my room, because I can’t stand to look at you while Agravaine’s words come pouring out of your mouth” Ophelia snapped before turning around, sitting back down at her desk, picking up her quill and continuing to write after dipping it in ink once more.

Arthur stood silent as he watched her, taking in her words, unsure about anything except the tight feeling in his chest. “My mother is dead. My father died in my arms… the love of my life kissed another man in front of me… who else do I have but Agravaine?”

“Merlin. Gaius. Percival, Gwaine, Elyan, Ser Leon, every single one of your bloody knights or guards, every single servant, every single civilian under your rule and-… and me…” Ophelia admitted in a much softer tone, Arthur watching her with the same amount of sadness as before, making her sigh. “Agravaine is not the only person around you, Arthur. But please, start to use your head… Gwen was someone who questioned Agravaine. So was Gaius, so was I… I know he’s your uncle, and I might be wrong, but look at the evidence instead of what you want…” Ophelia muttered even more quietly, looking down and beginning to write again, Arthur thinking it over, blinking away his tears before clearing his throat, sitting down on a nearby chair after pulling it over to be in front of her. “So… the feast tomorrow night…” he trailed off, awkwardly trying to mend things with the woman in front of him, hearing her sigh and putting the quill down. Again.

“What about it?”

“It’s the feast of Beltane…” he trailed off again, Ophelia raising a single brow at him before sighing “Arthur-”

“It’s been almost two months! You haven’t attended any balls nor feasts, not even the surprise one for your birthday!”

“Well, I did tell you I didn’t want a feast on my birthday, and it’s not a surprise when Gwaine spits it out a month before…”

“You know how he is with secrets!” Arthur argued, smiling once he saw her try to restrain a smile, trying to hide it from him. “So, what do you say? Will you join us at the feast of Beltane?”

“Arthur-”

“You won’t have to stay the entire night!”

“I’m twenty-two, I think I’m capable of deciding when to leave” she muttered before thinking it over, nodding to herself “alright” she muttered, tilting her head at him, narrowing her eyes “but don’t be too hard on Merlin! He’s working so hard already.”

“Whatever you want.”

“Half the night off-”

“What?!”

“Half. The. Night. Off. It can just be the later half of the night as everything is settling down. Let him wear something nice, just a little bit. No pranks either!”

“What??”

“Merlin told me about that one time-”

“It was one time!” Arthur exclaimed with amusement, a smile still on his lips, even more so when he heard Ophelia chuckle. “Alright, now leave.”

“What?”

“Well I’m hardly going to try on dresses with you here, Arthur. You’re not Merlin” she teased, Arthur’s cheeks turning bright red “Ophelia!”

“What?? Don’t be so offended, Arthur, you’re just not my type!”

“And what is my type?”

“Strong, big, bulky… thick-headed, you know, brawns over brains.”

“Wha-”

“I prefer brains over brawns. Anyway, out” she ushered, waving Arthur out and closing the door the second he was outside, confusion and shock obvious on his face while Ophelia smirked and spun around, hurrying to her bag to look through all her clothes that were in there, an old habit she had yet to get rid of back at home, always ready to run if needed, so of course everything was in her bag.

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

Ophelia winced as she tried to run in her heels, hurrying into the room and sitting down next to Gaius on the side of the knights, Gwaine giving her a teasing smirk that made her roll her eyes, mouthing ‘shut up’ to him as she glared at him before sighing heavily, smoothing down her dress, fingers grazing across the navy blue silk, the golden embroidery from her waist up to the sleeveless top, the front of her hair pulled back into a lazy braid that went down the rest of her free hair. She had just filled up her cup when she saw Merlin walk over to Arthur with a plate of food, a natural smile forming on her lips at the sight of him, one she wasn’t even aware of. “Ah, my favourite. Herb-Crusted Capon” Arthur exclaimed with glee, Ophelia thinking nothing of it until she choked on the wine in her goblet. 

“Easy now, we don’t want any more holes in that belt.”

Ophelia coughed while trying to stop laughing, a hand on her chest as she quickly put down the goblet, raising a hand to Gaius before he could get too worried, her face reddening as she couldn’t stop laughing while also coughing. “Are you alright, my dear?” Gaius asked with a nervous laugh, Ophelia nodding eagerly, the coughing dying down and when she was just chuckling, she turned to look at Merlin, the young man-servant halting completely, as if frozen. Her eyes had tears in them, face red and flushed to an alarming extend as she had just coughed half her lungs up, and yet he gave her the goofiest smile she had ever seen, as though he was in his own little dream land when he looked at her, her cheeks reddening even more but this time it wasn’t from any wine or coughing. As Arthur let Merlin go, Merlin cast a glance at her and she smirked at him, lifting her goblet to her lips, drinking it while keeping eye contact. Merlin once again felt himself freeze up until she looked away, Gaius muttering something to her, making her turn to look at him, only to chuckle lightly, shaking her head with amusement.

As the night went on, Merlin frequently looked over in her direction, watching her as she talked with Gaius, one time she even subtly put her hand in the small pouch she had with her, only for half her arm to disappear as she retracted a small notebook, Merlin smirking as he recognized the disguised bag, only taken out of his trance when he noticed how glum Arthur appeared to be. Ophelia opened the small notebook and leaned towards Gaius, pointing at something in the small book that seemed to fascinate Gaius. “How on earth did you obtain this??”

“When I was younger, my uncle-” she was cut off by the bells ringing and the doors bursting open, her eyes widening as she saw Gwaine hurry in, covered in sud and smoke “Sire! We’re under attack, they’re within the city walls!” he announced loudly and Ophelia stood up quickly, turning to look at Merlin with worry, moving out of her place at the table to hurry to his side. “Merlin, get everyone to the inner chamber” Arthur commanded, Merlin nodding, turning to look at Ophelia who quickly shook her head “I have to get something first. I’ll find you.”

“Ophelia-”

“I’ll find you, Merlin” Ophelia whispered softly, kissing him to shut up his protests, and it worked. Merlin nodded before shouting for everyone to follow him, Ophelia waiting until everyone had turned either one way or the other, before she apparated, ending up in her room. She nearly tripped at the shifting movement and her heels but she quickly shook them off while hurrying to her Potions Kit, her wand out as her bag turned into what it usually looked like. She put it on the desk, opened it and waved her wand, every book, potions and magical artefact instantly moving into her bag, shrinking if needed before plopping down as Ophelia hurriedly changed, barely managing to stuff her dress and jewellery into the bag before she swung it over her shoulder, wearing blue jeans, a blue and silver sweater and her usual shoes, looking around to make sure she had everything before nodding to herself, apparating to the inner chamber in the darkest corner she could remember, quickly appearing as she walked out of the darkness, her hand finding Merlin’s from behind, at first startling the young warlock but he relaxed when he turned to see who it was. He hugged her tightly, kissing the top of her head before parting from her, quickly noticing that she had changed clothes. As a soldier was being brought in, coughing and clutching his chest, Ophelia was the first to hurry over to him, kneeling down and pushing his shoulders back so he wasn’t crouched over. “Were you in the lower town?” she asked urgently, watching him nod and wince in pain, about to crouch over again when she stopped him “did you inhale smoke?” she asked, the soldier nodding and she gave him a nod in return. “Listen, this is going to be painful, very painful, but I need you to take a deep breath. I need you to take as deep a breath as you can, okay? I can do it with you” she spoke softly yet sternly, the soldier nodding.

Merlin almost got lost in watching her, how she inhaled deeply with the soldier, exhaling when he did while giving him an encouraging smile every time he looked like he wanted to stop. “Can you keep doing that? Think of your lungs as dirty clothes, breathing deeply and calmly is cleaning them and we need them clean, okay? Not just for Camelot, but for yourself, and your King” she soothed, the soldier nodding, seemingly more empowered by her words, making Ophelia stand up and tend to a wounded knight, already getting her hands dirty and bloody without even blinking. As Merlin rushed past her, she gripped his arm, staring up at him with pleading eyes and he was ready to argue when she crashed her lips against his, cupping his face in her hands as she kissed him deeply before parting from him, both of them panting for air as he held her close. “Get back to me” she whispered, Merlin nodding, giving her another kiss before hurrying out. Ophelia watched him leave before forcing herself to turn around and continue helping the wounded knight.

Ophelia was carefully binding a wound with torn fabric when Merlin and Arthur stumbled in, her eyes wide and she finished the binding quickly before hurrying over as Merlin sat Arthur down on a bench. The second Merlin had free hands he turned around and grabbed Ophelia by her hips, his lips meeting hers as he kissed her, her arms wrapping around his neck until they both needed air and had to part. “Told you I’d come back” he whispered, Ophelia letting out a breathy chuckle, leaning up and kissing his lips before turning to look over Arthur along with Gaius. “I can bind the ribcage but even then we run the risk of puncturing a lung” Gaius explained as Ophelia gently felt over Arthur’s side “you two just do what you have to, so long as I can still swing a sword” Arthur groaned out, Ophelia raising a shocked eyebrow at him “swing a sword?! Arthur, you’re not swinging anything right now, let alone a sword!”

“I have to fight, Ophelia-”

“There are more ways to fight than with a sword!” Ophelia hissed, sighing heavily as she looked up at Gaius “we can’t bind the ribcage, at least not until we know where the break is” Ophelia muttered before looking back at Arthur, Gaius watching her “can you find it?”

“Find out where a bone is broken? Been doing that since I was eleven and got into business with Fred and George” she muttered, kneeling down to be level with Arthur’s side, gently pressing down along each rib, trying to find out where the break was as Gaius walked over to Percival, Merlin and Gwaine. “Ophelia, I command you, as your king, to bind-”

“Shut up, Arthur! I’m not your subject right now!!... I’m your friend” Ophelia hissed before sighing as she found where the break was, Arthur doing everything in his power to not even flinch. “I can bind this, but not now, not like this-”

“When?”

“When we’re not about to get slaughtered!!” Ophelia snapped, Arthur throwing his head back in annoyance and pain, gritting his teeth “do it anyway!”

“Like hell I will! You’re lucky it’s only one broken rib! It’ll have to be done carefully! You’re no use to anyone if you’re dead, at the very least I’d hope you’d be so stubborn as to not give Morgana that satisfaction” she muttered the last bit. “Ophelia!”

“I’m not binding it like this, Arthur!” Ophelia snapped before walking over to Merlin and Gaius “we need to get him out. Now. I can bind his ribs but I have to do it very carefully, we have to get him out” Ophelia hissed before walking back over to Arthur as he tried to stand up, pushing him by his head down, hearing him groan once more. As Gaius and Merlin walked over, Ophelia took a step back for Gaius, letting him take his place and at first she didn’t know what was going on, until she saw Merlin’s eyes glow, a smirk tugging at her lips as Arthur became completely calm, compliant even. “We need to leave now, sire!” Merlin stated, both Gaius, Ophelia and Merlin shared quick glances, until Arthur nodded “of course” he stated willingly, Ophelia trying to hide her smile as Gwaine and Percival took Arthur towards the back exit, practically carrying him. Just as Merlin was about to leave, he noticed that neither Gaius nor Ophelia were with him, Gaius turning to Ophelia with pleading eyes, Ophelia sighing softly “Gaius-”

“Go, please… for me” he pleaded, Ophelia hesitating, looking over her shoulder at Merlin before nodding, hurrying over to him “I’ll see you outside” she whispered, kissing him briefly before hurrying after the others.

[littlealeta]

"No, we're not doing that sort of manipulative bullshit. It's not expecting perfection to expect someone who feels entitled enough to post a multi-paragraph review of a film to actually know the first act twists, and I resent you trying to portray it that way." I'm not entitled to anything. I'm literally just expressing how I feel about a film and you're mad that I have a different opinion from you. I do not have any problems with anyone trying to debate my points, but you are over here calling me a selfish spoiled brat because you don't agree with me. I'm just trying to have fun watching movies, I'm not harassing anyone who made this film. When people see a film once, they are not going to immediately understand all the deeper themes of it. I just want to watch a fun quirky horror film, if I can't enjoy that, I don't care about all the deeper themes.

"Its becoming abundantly clear that this isn't about the film, its about your inability to interpret any media that isn't straight cut here are the good guys who do everything right and win, and the bad guys who are evil and will lose. Its reflected in your "alternate" storylines. You either want her to be a completely evil psycho who just loves to kill or you want her to be a completely good person being forced to do things by her father who you can then shove firmly into the completely evil box." This is literally just a general storyline, not a whole script. How would you know if the characters don't have minor flaws or redeeming qualities at some points? If you dislike Chaotic Evil horror villains and possessed characters, then I don't see how you would like many horror films. I don't like many horror films either, only because I feel a lot of them are just boring with wack ass jump scares, which is exactly what Abigail is.

"The characters aren't black and white - bad. You gravitate to the characters who were killed off early exactly because they weren't fleshed out enough to learn what the awful things they did are. Therefore they are the closest to complete simple good guys. As for the rest of them, no they aren't good, but 'these are bad people but on the whole they still don't deserve to be tortured and brutally murdered' is not a complicated concept to grasp." I didn't say that they deserved to be hurt. Nobody does.

"Film didn't show you exactly what happened and left you to extrapolate what happened from other scenes - bad. They literally show you that Abigail can move super fast, that she knows the house, that she's killed in the house for years, and that she can break her hands to get out off the cuffs and heal instantly, but you still find the first two deaths "poor writing". No, its just not mashed, blended, and spoon-fed to you." Again, predictable horror film with weak jump scares and killing characters off with random melodrama. What is Abby's deal? It just makes her seem almost completely invincible. Maybe just don't kill characters off like that because again, it feels lazy for cheap scares? Literally we see Rickles just suddenly die with nobody there.

"and to write multiple paragraphs on why said characters are bad and the writing is bad and everything is bad because I can't understand it." Well then maybe the movie should've developed the characters more and streamlined the theme better because a lot of things just felt random.

"Also, just to finish, Frank isn't the most exciting villain in the world, but he isn't single dimensional, and it's interesting how he's a foil to heroin addict Joey, with his addiction being an addiction to power. He revels in the power whilst he's undercover in Lazaar's organisation, but is able to go 'cold turkey' to bring in his lieutenants. He constantly posits himself as leader of the group before and after Abigail's reveal, and ultimately his downfall because not only can he not resist the power of vampirism, but he can't resist having power over Joey and letting her know that he has power over her, someone who has consistently irritated and beaten him mentally and physically throughout the film. I suppose nothing you'll say, well that's too complicated." Sounds like you just like the film for its deep themes and mirroring, which is just a matter of taste. I think it's just poorly written with nothing much special and messy storytelling. There's a lot more a film needs to do besides having deep themes.

At the end of the day, you need to understand that we both have different opinions. As a writer who does a lot of research, I personally see this as a bad film for the reasons I already described. You see it as a good film, good for you then. Doesn't mean that I'm an entitled and idiotic brat.

The film is objectively not perfect yet you're trying to make it out to be by insulting my review and all my points with your self-righteous, arrogant values and arguing all my points without considering my viewpoint. You're just mad that your baby is objectively a divisive film for justifiable reasons. I understand the film more now that you have explained it better, however, it doesn't make the film better.

And You didn't even answer my question about how my storylines would make the film generic. Almost nothing is original anymore. What matters is the execution. This film had a good concept that was terribly executed with cliches and poor writing.

Abigail Review (Spoilers)

LONG BLOG! IF YOU DON'T WANT TO READ THIS BLOG, SCROLL DOWN TO THE OVERALL SECTION FOR A TL;DR and ALETA REWRITES

We haven’t had an evil child film since uh… Annabelle Creation? So, I was excited to see how this movie would play out.

Unfortunately, it’s like every other evil child film.

So… the positives?

The actors are excellent. They fit seamlessly into their roles. Their comedic timing and wits are great. Abigail’s actress is adorably sweet and innocent and portrays her manipulative split personality naturally. Everyone looked like they were having fun and were really into their roles, which was always entertaining to see.

Some of the scenes are entertainingly quirky. Like Abigail using Sammy as a puppet, while cliched, was humorous and fun with the intercut shots while this wildly unfitting song is playing. The scene is melodramatic but it somehow comes off as ironically humorous (in a good way). Abigail dancing to classical music with Dean’s beheaded body is another moment of good creepiness. And the entire scene with Puppet Frank was interestingly disturbing and sometimes funny. It was crazy.

Rickle was a likeable character who the film, unfortunately, had the misfortune to kill off early on because… I guess they didn’t know what to do with his character.

And… that’s about it.

Story

Like I said, the story, besides a few scenes, doesn’t really do anything special with its concept. It had a good concept (ballerina who just wants to play and can turn people into her slaves), but it never really goes that far with it. Instead, it’s just another horror film where a group of people are being chased by a monster.

The ending is a total wtf mess. Joey gets her heart stabbed and twisted and somehow survives because the protagonist's gotta have plot armor. Abigail turns a 180 and starts protecting Joey for some reason. Valdez appears and…we don’t know what he’s about, besides the fact that he’s creepy. He and Abigail let Joey out because the movie has to end.

Characters

The cast is an entire mixed bag. The only one I liked was Rickle because he seemed like the most decent in the cast. But instead, they write him off, leaving us with a group of ignorant scumbags for the rest of the hour. We don’t even really get much time to know Rickle because he was killed off so soon. I feel Dean had more personality than him. I don’t remember much about Rickle other than he was the nice guy. And Dean has the same problem. The film fucks him over too early so we don’t have time to find a reason why we should care about these two characters.

Besides Rickle, the cast are all unsympathetic people. Luckily, some of their actors are good enough to make them appealing. And they DO have their moments where they are funny and badass, but when they’re being serious and/or trying to make a decision, they’re just your average dumb horror movie character. Some of the dialogue that they make is on the nose, notably right before they die, they do the cliche “I will always be there for you” kind of shit. 

Joey (seemingly our protagonist) is revealed to have been a deadbeat mother who dabbled in drugs and a life of crime. One poor decision she made was betraying the group over killing Abigail despite knowing she was Valdez! She is also apparently psychic (as she can read other people), but is never said to be so because the film is too lazy to. Dean is the dumb horror character who somehow just has no brains. Implicitly, he seems to be on drugs, but they don’t do anything to make his character likeable, nor do I believe it was stated that he WAS on drugs.

Sammy is my least favorite. Not only do I hate the way her character is designed, but she’s just a total whiny bitch who often has something annoyingly smug to say. Or she just gets pissed off for no fucking reason, like when she finds Dean’s body.

Peter and Frank? They’re on the more likeable side, but they’re not too great either. Peter, for example, makes the dumb decision to kill Abigail before knowing she was Valdez and almost released her from her cage at the expense of his group. Frank is the only sane man, I probably tolerated him the most, considering he was the only one with a brain. However, he can often be harsh and insensitive (like about Joey's troubled life) and, he too, threatens Abigail, screaming at her when for all he knew at the time, she was just an innocent little girl. He has a similar past to Joey because the writers couldn’t come up with something different.

Last but not least is the titular character Abigail, who apparently has some dark past, but still manages to be a bland villain. She’s your typical horror movie character out for revenge and to kill the main characters. Her ballerina moves can hardly make up for it. Despite having a backstory, her development still feels shallow. There’s a whole slow ass scene where she monologues about how everyone came to be the way that they are. Number 1. How do you know who anyone is? Number 2. SHOW DON’T TELL, MOVIE.

Overall

Abigail gets 3.4 bells out of 10

Actors feel natural in their roles and are hilarious with their humor. The concept is a tad quirky, and there are some scenes where they run with that, but they are few and far in between. Plot feels mostly like your average horror film and is slow at some parts, especially at the beginning. Characters tend to make some horrible and appallingly dumb decisions with Rickle being the only nice guy in the group. If the characters are not horrible, they are shallow, like unfortunately our almost one-note villain. Dialogue sometimes feel so obvious, it’s unnatural. Ending feels very lazy due to the shallowness of the characters and their development.

Aleta Rewrites: I would make Abigail a playfully eerie child, like a Chucky kind of situation. Like, obviously, I think the movie tried to make her out to be this playful, quirky ballerina kid. So, I would lean into that more. So, it doesn’t seem like she’s just some generic character hell bent on revenge, but rather a lunatic with a morbid fascination with gore and death. So, the only reason she’s bodying people is so that she can play and mess with them, like in the scene where she’s dancing with Dean’s beheaded body. Maybe she can kill her victims while she’s dancing/playing, that would be funny. Lean in more into the horror comedy instead of making it a gritty drama about corrupt people.

I would also develop Valdez more. Maybe make him the final boss of the film. Or preferably, do a twist where it shows that HE was the one possessing Abigail and everyone in the film, so when he's killed off or his magic is wrecked, Abigail will be free and THEN will team up to fight Valdez.

[k-s-morgan]

Hi! I've been in the Hannibal fandom for two years now. Rewatched the show many times and yet Will Graham still confuses me like no one else. Hannibal's design is complex but somewhat understandable after watching the show again again. But Will's design is like a loophole. He can empathise with the killers. That means he can understand them. If he can understand them then why does it feel good for him to kill them? How does it work for him exactly. Does he feel for the killers? If he felt for the killers then what about his violent tendencies towards them?

I've always thought that he is like a God. A God of the killers. The killers offer him their design and he takes sacrifice in return of understanding. But how does his psyche work exactly?

Hello! Oh yes, Will is a very confusing character - it’s his defining trait, and I think that’s because he lies to himself, to others, and to us as an audience. He wants one thing, wants to want another thing, does the third thing, and making sense of it is a complex process.

I think Will’s empathy is a big red herring. I agree with Freddie here: he understands killers because he’s one. He has an almost supernatural gift that helps him recreate the situations almost exactly as they happened. He understands what motivates killers, he might sympathize with them, but I think he might also envy them their freedom to be what they are. They are a reminder of what he is and what he can’t allow himself to have. But most importantly, they are a way for Will to find a compromise with himself and feel better about his true self. Killing bad people is an excuse to justify his darkness, but I don’t think it’s a part of his design per se. 

I agree with you that Will is like a God - he and Hannibal both are. That’s one of the things that separates them from others and elevates them above everyone else. Let’s make an overview of Will’s victims.

1) Hobbs. Hobbs was a monster and Will killed him. But it wasn’t about justice and righteousness, not according to him. Killing a person and feeling pleased that you saved someone versus liking the act of killing itself are drastically different things. Many police officers have to kill in their line of duty. Very few of them get off on the act of murder. Those who do are killers, and they are especially dangerous if they immediately try to follow it up with another murder. Will never once says he liked killing Hobbs because he made this world better. When asked, he says that he felt a sense of power. This is a motivation of many actual serial killers. If Will was just glad that he saved Abigail, he would know it's normal. He wouldn't have been almost on the verge of a break-down and haunted by Hobbs. So it’s not about helping others, it's about murder, even if the victim was a monster.

2) Stammets. Will had no reason to try to kill him (which he admits to doing). Based on his and Hannibal’s talk, he understands that he just wanted to feel what he felt after killing Hobbs, and this makes him panic. So again, no someone. He’s chasing the high of killing someone, and Stammets is the most appropriate victim. 

3) Ingram. On the surface, it looks like Will wanted to avenge Peter and himself by proxy, hence pulling the trigger on Ingram. However, after Hannibal manages to stop him, days later, Will complains about losing a chance to feel how he felt when killing Hobbs. Murder high is his main motivation again - everything else is background or an excuse, depending on your reading.    

4) Randall. Will threw away the gun on purpose to make the murder more intimate. This is not about justice and this is not about protecting himself because by doing this, he reduced his chances. Will also beat Randall up until he wasn't moving. There was no reason to snap his neck. Mutilation, cannibalism that followed, keeping his suit, admitting he enjoyed the murder and calling it his design - this is about murder and WIll’s love for it primarily. The design part is especially important: based on it, we can conclude that Will loves a performance just like Hannibal.  

4) Chiyoh and her prisoner who Will set up. Chiyoh was innocent and didn't deserve to die. Her prisoner might not have been guilty - in fact, Will was the one to suggest that, and yet Will still set him up. It was a game and he was an observer - he lied in waiting for Chiyoh’s scream. He then turned the body of a losing party into art. Very creepy and very like Hannibal.

5) Chilton. Will clearly explained his motivation: he wanted Chilton to pay just because he wanted to be famous and messed with Hannibal by writing his ridiculous book. Will showed no remorse and admitted he did it on purpose.

6) Police officers he set up to be killed by cooperating with Francis. The ones he stepped over without a second look. They were innocent and they were a collateral damage. Will is a cruel God who doesn’t bother with mere mortals as long as it fits his purpose. In this case, his purpose was freeing Hannibal. Everything else was still a blur in his mind. 

7) Francis. Enjoyed the murder, admired the blood, called the situation beautiful.

8) Bedelia. She's innocent in comparison to Will and his body count. If Will faced no repercussions and continued getting more and more people killed, she had every right to go free. But God doesn’t have to be fair, and Will proves it by targeting her. 

What does it all say about Will’s design and philosophy? Apart from Godlike attributes and indifference toward collateral damage, I think Will is led by his bloodlust - he just tends to control it and direct it at specific targets. 

Will might prefer to kill “bad people” in the first two seasons, but it’s the process of murder that excites him. So I see his righteous choices as a preference that helps him justify his dark nature partly, not the core reason for his violence. Hannibal seems to be moved by his interest in human nature and his hunter instinct, but Will, I think, is a truer killer because he actually feels drunk on murder. Unlike Hannibal, he looks downright euphoric when/after he kills Randall and Francis. In TWOTL, Hannibal is more focused on the fact that his dream came true and he and Will killed someone together, but Will seems primarily caught up in the murder after-shocks themselves. Hannibal thinks about Will, Will thinks about how beautiful blood looks under the moonlight.

So, post Fall, I believe that at first, Will will stick to killing bad people like murderers, but once some times passes, his need for justifications will fade. He’ll move on to rude people, only his rude will differ from Hannibal’s. Hannibal doesn’t differentiate between genders and ages, but I think Will will. He’s interested in a feeling of power, like he himself says, in a sense of dominance, so he’ll look forward to a fight. He won’t be interested in attacking a teenager like Cassie, for instance, because the power imbalance is too prominent. But as soon as someone more equal does something Will heavily dislikes, something that wakes his bloodlust (a personal insult, physical or verbal abuse toward other people/animals, etc.), he’ll attack. He’ll be careful - he knows how to avoid being caught, but it will still be unpredictable and passionate. Will is a storm to Hannibal’s calm.

Then there is unpredictability. Hannibal tends to plan everything methodically. The only times we see him being impulsive is in Europe, where he’s descending into self-destructive mode, so it’s not a norm for him. For Will, though? Will consists of unpredictability, and Hannibal is fascinated by it.I think Will is going to kill when an impulse strikes. For example, he might go shopping, without having any dark plans, and end up murdering someone because the circumstances pushed some unfortunate soul onto his path. Will might or might not display the body depending on his mood. Today he can be in an artistic mood, but tomorrow he’ll be in a violent and impatient one, wanting to destroy the body entirely and leaving a total mess behind.

How Will would prefer to kill? In my opinion, in an intimate way. It doesn’t mean he’ll be weaponless, but something like a knife would fit his tastes well. He’d be able to feel it plunge into his victim’s body, tearing through skin and muscles, etc. - personal and intimate. Akin to what he did with Francis - his feral half-snarl, the way he paused after stabbing him before opening him up - it was dark and mesmerizing. Will might get into strangling, too, because it takes a lot of time and it is even more intimate. It might end up being his favorite. So, I can see him using his hands or small weapons to fully sense what he’s doing to a victim. This is something that he has in common with Hannibal because from what we saw, Hannibal also enjoys more intimate and prolonged murders that give him a glimpse into a person’s pain and struggle for life.

[cowboisadness]

Hang ‘Em High {Arthur Morgan x F!OC} Chapter 29

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x FemOC

Summery: Belle Hawthorne is high society looking to escape her mean husband. A robbery by the Van Der Linde gang could be her chance. Can she escape his cluches and possibly discover what love should feel like?

Warnings: SMUT!! 18+ ONLY

…..

Arthur having a room with wooden walls, and a door made his personal space much quieter. Hopefully, he would be able to get a full night’s sleep without the hollering and boozed-up snoring from some of the others. But knowing that he has lived most of his life in a barely standing canopy beside a wagon amongst everyone else, the new silence would more than likely be harrowing, making him unable to sleep.

Once I was fed and ensured that he told others not to bother me right now, I was finally able to rest somewhat. Waiting for Arthur to fill me in on what has happened since I was away. Why we were here. He told me what happened in Rhodes, that they had lost Sean in the process. Sean, free-spirited, always trying to raise people’s spirits with his bad humour, sometimes even winding others up either intentionally or not, he was fun to spend time with. Shame I wasn’t able to hear more of his shitty jokes. I asked how Karen was doing. Despite not knowing the extent of their relationship, no one could deny that they were fond of each other. Most nights seen sitting by the scout fire together, holding hands and passing a bottle between them. Her howls of laughter carried through the camp on the wind. He said she wasn’t doing well. Had taken to the bottle harder than ever.

“Jacks gone too,” he said quietly, scuffing the heel of his shoe against the worn wood floor. “Braithwaite’s took him. Now he’s in the hands of a rich fella in Saint Denis. Going there for him tomorrow.”

“How can you be sure this man has him?” I tried my hardest not to tear up, but after everything that has happened, not just to me but to everyone here. It was difficult not to.

“Mrs Braithwaite said so. After she watched her sons die and her home up in flames.” I could see in that faraway look of his. The helplessness and the rage that accompanied it. And I could feel it now. I’d been helpless, angry and fearful too many times, but I always had the hope and chance to get away somehow. Jack is just a boy. Abigail must be distraught. He didn’t ask to be part of this life and the constant fight. The gang did everything they could to keep him out of it. In that moment I felt no remorse for these Braithwaites. I hope they suffered, and I hope she died painfully. And I hope Jack comes back unharmed.

It was getting late now, and when Arthur made a move to remove his gun belt, hat and jacket, I stood to put on the skirt he brought me and leave him to his rest so I could find somewhere to sleep.

“Where are you going?”

“It’s getting late. I was going to see if my tent is still stored in one of the wagons.”

“Could stay in here. We could sleep together -  I mean – we – I could sleep on the floor, give you the cot. I don’t mind. But if you don’t wanna –“ I couldn’t stop the slight grin forming at his fumbling. I moved to stand before him where he sat on the cot, placing myself between his legs. My hands carding through his hair as he looked up at me longingly. His hands settled on my hips.

“I’d rather we shared the cot. Or the floor.” I smiled down at him as I played with the hair at the nape of his neck. He returned it. With that smile that had the butterflies caged within me to come to life and flutter like a fire within was burning them. Wild. Other feelings made themselves apparent. That had me wishing I could freeze this moment for eternity. The settling knowing of being safe and cherished sank deep into my bones.

I rested my hands on his shoulders, kneading the muscles there, feeling his shoulders relax as he let out a quiet sigh of relaxation. My hands trailing along the flesh just beneath his collar and then down towards where it was unbuttoned before I began undoing the rest. His gaze was once again upon me as I pushed it off his shoulders, taking advantage of leaning over slightly in the process to place a kiss on his brow. “Thank you,” He sat back giving me a questioning look. “For coming for me today. For helping me realise I was a fool. For saving me.” I kissed him again. His hands, which had come to rest on my thighs pulled me further towards him and then snaked to rest at the back. “You don’t need to thank me for any of that.”

“Well, I will, and I am. I didn’t have anyone looking out for me until you. I don’t even think my parents have any idea of what I went through.”

“You miss them?”

“Terribly. I’m hoping, if we have the time and are able, to maybe take the trip out to see them. If that’s okay?”

“Of course,” he smiled softly once again “After we get Jack back, we will go.” I kissed him again, first on his brow, then his lips. He was gentle, letting me guide us. His hands tightening on the backs of my thighs. Undoing my skirt, I let it drop to the floor. His shirt I was still wearing fell mid-thigh and I was content in using it as night clothes. His hands didn’t return to where they were, much to my disappointment. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, not wanting to touch my bare skin so he placed them on my waist.

The kiss deepened. The push and pull having me move to sit upon his lap, straddling him. My hands were in his hair, and a quiet moan slipped out of me which had him pulling away. His breathing laboured. “Are – We don’t have to. You’ve been through a lot I -“

“Oh, shush and just touch me.”

“Yes ma’am” he exhaled. Then his mouth was on mine and his hands on my thighs, pressing in on my softly burning flesh. Squeeze harder, I wanted to say. Make it bruise. Give me marks that will make me smile.

Adjusting myself on his lap, that delicious ache blooming to live as I pressed my softness to the hardness of him. The move had him pressing into me in return and his grip tightening. Moaning into his mouth. Wanting more and more like a thirst I was unable to quench. Arthur moves us before I could register it. My head on the firm pillow of his cot as he laid me down and hovered over me, continuing the kiss. His hands roamed along my sides. Breaking the kiss to look down at me. He didn’t have to speak as I give him a soft nod. The speed in which he removed my clothing was slower than I had desired. Stopping every once in a while to fix his eyes on me, gauging my reaction the more me skin was revealed to him. We had been fully clothed the other times, fixing out touch to whatever part of us was easy to get to. I guess he was looking for any sort of unease that would give away that I’m not ready for this and that I might need more time to work through the day – the week I’ve had. But I was ready. And I made sure to ensure him with soft eyes and even softer smiles. His mouth ran blazing trails along my stomach, up to my chest and neck. Drawing a gasp from me. My clothing now forgotten in a pile on the floor. And I did not feel any shame as I bared all before him. I was aching. Seconds away from begging him before his fingers tenderly dragged up the centre of me. My body jolted at the sudden contact, and he just beheld me with a smile reserved just for me. The moan from deep within me was loud and involuntary when inserted two fingers straight into me. Moving in a way that had me moving my hips in tandem with his movement. His mouth was on mine, but it was a grand struggle to focus on my lips on his when he was pulling pleasure from me. This was the first time we could just let go and not have to be hyper-aware of our surroundings. We weren’t going to rush this. His mouth was on my neck, nipping at the skin there, the same moment his thumb pressed down onto my clit. The building ache rising towards the precipice I knew I wasn’t going to last long.

“Come on, sweetheart.” He whispered into my neck, speeding up his movements. Each bite to my neck was accompanied by an immediate lick of his tongue to soothe the sting. My breathing was rapid, my skin on fire and my I couldn’t hold back even if I wanted to. The lust heating in his eyes, pupils blown out with only a shred of that ocean blue I loved being shown around the edge, it pushed me over the brink. Falling into the blanketed haze of euphoria with a wail I tried to muffle into where his shoulder meets his neck. Eyes squeezed tight as I let the feelings rock me. “That’s it,” he breathed into me “So beautiful.” He slowed his ministrations to prolong my pleasure and bring me down slowly until I began to twitch from overstimulation. To which he removed his fingers and placed his hand on my hip, his thumb drawing circles on the bone there.

It took a moment for my breathing to ease, and for the shaking in my legs to stop completely. it wasn’t until Arthur moved from above me, pulling the blanket from the bottom of the cot to cover both of us, then laid beside me in the cramped space pulling me into him, that I looked at him. Visibly confused.

“It’s okay. You’ve had a horrible day. Sleep, I know you need it.” He said like I couldn’t feel his erection pressing into my leg only moments ago. But before I could say anything, he pulled me firmly into him, my head laying on his shoulder and his hand caressing up and down my back.

“Sleep.” It was like his voice was enchanted. With that word, my eyelids were getting heavy. And with his steady hold on me, his warmth and deep breathing, I fell asleep quickly and deeply.

@kashasenpai​​ @fallout-cowgirl​​​ @averyspicybaguette​​​ @joscelyn02​ 

[novaiya]

Diamonds & Rust Part II - Arthur x Reader (NSFW)

Part I

Summary: It’s been three years since that fateful night. Three years during which you couldn’t stop thinking about him. Now, the fate once again brought the two of you together. Was it for the last time, or was something else bound to happen?

Words: 8k

Warnings: Cheating, F!Reader, Smut

A/N: If you prefer to read this on AO3, click here. This took me two months to write LOL But in the end, I’m very pleased with how it turned out.

Your hand shook as you held the pen above the crisp, spotless paper. You took a deep breath, writing the date, but couldn’t proceed beyond that. You dropped the pen and planted your elbows on the table, hiding your face in your hands. 

It’s been three years since you last saw each other. Three years since you were held in his hands and caressed by his lips. The time you shared on that cold, foggy night felt both lightyears and a touch away. You thought it to be a perfect, picturesque ending to your imperfect relationship, like a final scene in a play, but it seemed it was merely an intermission.

After a few moments of rest you wrote, “Dear Arthur” and spilled out the reason for your letter. Few nights ago, your ranch was attacked by a group of local cattle rustlers. Seeing how well your ranch was doing, they wanted their cut, and when you stood your ground, they were less than happy. They left you alone for the moment, but promised to be back in numbers, and that they were. Not a couple of days later, you were woken up in the middle of the night to the sound of gunshots and a fire outside your window. Like they promised, they were back and ready to take what they felt they were entitled to. You watched them take away your cattle and set fire to your barn as your husband hastily packed up your valuables, and not shortly after, you were on your wagon, bound for your mother-in-law’s house, barely escaping the flames and the bullets. 

You signed off with your name and an address of where you were staying, and with fleeing hope, posted the letter the next day.

As you patiently awaited Arthur’s reply or an arrival, a curious elephant entered your household that neither you or your husband were ready to address. The woman that your husband knew you as was a kind, gentle woman who’s biggest crime was accidentally buying two gallons of milk and only paying for one. He never saw, or could imagine you carrying a weapon, and for all he knew, you didn’t know how to use one. The woman he saw during the attack, however, he did not know. She skillfully held the shotgun in her hands, dropped the slugs in without even looking and didn’t fall backwards when the recoil hit. She had a fire in her eyes that threatened to overpower the one outside, and for a second, even he, her husband, was afraid of her. Having been born to a simple family in which his mother was gentle and submissive, serving as a pliable partner to his father, he was shocked to see you so strong and hard. He was still deciding what he thought of this discovery of this new you, and during that time, you could feel him drift away.

You didn’t miss the change in him, how he eyed you from the corner of his eyes during dinner time, or the cold space between the two of you when you went to bed. It hurt and it stung and it made you long for Arthur’s arrival so much more. With him, there were no secrets you had to hide. You never went to bed with a fear that one day your facade would fall apart, and he would shriek at seeing the real you. From the beginning, he knew everything there was to know about you, and accepted it. What some would see as character flaws, he simply saw as character traits that made you who you were. With him, you could be you, something that you realized you couldn’t be with your husband. When the two of your married, you hoped that it would put a final nail in the coffin of your past self, but it seemed that your past self refused to die, and your husband shrieked at seeing the dead corpse. 

__________________

“There’s a letter for you, Arthur,” said Miss Grimshaw as she passed Arthur who was hitching his horse to a hitching post.

He thanked her and made his way to his tent where an envelope laid on his cot.

“Let’s see,” he said to himself as he tore the envelope open and pulled out a piece of paper. As he read your name on the bottom of the paper, he felt a familiar pang that the thought of you always brought to him. He skimmed through the rest of the letter, plucking the main points as well as your address before shoving the paper in his satchel and making his way to the back of the wagon that served as a wall to his tent. He looked over a map that was there, calculating how long it would take to get to you. Eight hours, he thought, six if he cut on any unnecessary breaks and sleep. He once again made his way around the wagon and went to a chest at the end of his cot, picking out a pair of fresh clothes and other necessary items for the trip. He was doing everything on autopilot, for his mind was too clouded with the thoughts of you to pay attention to what his hands were doing. He remembered your last meeting, and how it opened so many old wounds and created even more new ones. In that moment, when the two of you held each other, whispered love confessions into the silent night, he felt as if he was on cloud nine, but when he left, the blow was just as strong.   

When he finished packing, he looked around; Pearson and Abigail were busy chopping vegetables, with little Jack sitting at his mother’s feet. Dutch and Molly were in their tent, talking (arguing would be a better word). The girls were doing chores, with Miss Grimshaw watching over them and correcting their techniques. Most of the men were out on jobs, leaving only Javier standing at guard duty. Even though everyone had free rein to come and go whenever they pleased, Arthur especially, he didn’t want to be asked unnecessary questions, so he waited until Javier was on the other side of the perimeter to mount his horse and ride away to you.

__________________

As you sat at the dining room table of Bertha’s, your mother-in-law, house, you kept praying that Arthur got your letter and found it in himself to help you. You found yourself thinking that maybe it might’ve gotten lost, or perhaps the rain soaked the envelope and the letter to the point it had to be thrown away. With nothing to do but wait, you kept fidgeting with your dress as you sat by the table, only to promptly raise up when you heard the sound of the hoofbeats approach. You pushed the front door open with a smile as hopeful as that of a child, for it to only fall apart when you saw that it was your husband, coming back from a run to the town for provision. The change in your expression didn’t go unnoticed by him, but he didn’t say anything, and just kissed your cold cheek as he moved past you into the house. 

“You still think he’ll come?” your husband asked one morning as he sat at the dining room table and you washed the dishes. It’s been about a week since you posted the letter, and Arthur still hasn’t come. You were beginning to lose hope, but didn’t show it.

“I’m sure,” you said, not turning away from the dishes in your hands. You told your husband that you knew someone who could help, and when he inquired who it might be, you told him it was a friend from your past life, someone who helped you get back on your feet after you lost your parents. That didn’t satisfy his curiosity, so he pried on. Answering his questions was like walking through a field full of landmines. Every answer had to be calculated, giving just enough information to satisfy his curiosity and not to lead to more questions. At the end of the conversation, you were hopeful that the newfound information you shared would bring you two back together, but in fact, it did the opposite, and he felt that there was even more he didn’t know about you. 

As you washed the dishes, you looked through the window in front of you and felt thunder run through your entire being. You could never mistaken that mare for anyone else, with her unique coat and her silky locks; it was Boadicea, and with her, someone else you could never mistaken; Arthur. You watched him through the dirty kitchen window as he hitched Boadicea to a tree nearby and made his way to the house in strong, long strides. You dropped the dishes back into the sink with a splash and ran to the door, opening it as Arthur was about to knock.

“Arthur,” you said with a smile that lit up your whole face. 

He could feel his heartbeat all over his body as he was met with your face. Your smile made your entire face glow, and he could see sparkles in your eyes as you looked at him. Knowing that he was the reason for your reaction, he could feel the familiar haze of feelings cloud his entire being. 

He spoke your name in return, his voice enveloping each syllable with affection and tenderness that couldn’t be mistaken for anything else, and which your husband could hear from where he sat at a dining room table. 

The two of you stood at the threshold for a brief moment, caught up in each other’s eyes and closeness. You fought the urge to embrace him, to kiss him and to tell him how much you missed him, and he did the same. Instead, you moved away and motioned for him to get inside. As he did so, he almost instantly met eyes with your husband, who rose up from his seat to greet the man.

“Roy Dorset,” your husband said as he extended his hand.

“Arthur Morgan.”

As you watched, the two men shared an awkward, silent handshake, during which you had a chance to compare and contrast the two of them. You certainly had a type, you though, as you looked at the men before you, both of them tall and handsome. There were, however, noticeable distinctions that differentiated them, and served as a representation of the person you were with each of them. Roy, being a part time rancher and a part time bookkeeper for a general store in your town, was dressed as a man about town with carefully ironed pants, clean shirt and a vest with all the buttons attached. He was a proper god-fearing, law-abiding man who had traditional standards for people, some of which you sometimes felt you couldn’t reach yourself. 

Arthur, in contrast, was dressed haphazardly, wearing old, patched jeans, boots that have seen better days and a shirt that has clearly been washed many times over. By his look, you could tell Arthur didn’t care what others thought of him. He wore - and did - what he wanted, without a care for other people’s opinion. He didn’t hide himself behind anything, and that’s what you wished you could do now.

After a moment of pleasantries, the three of you sat at the dining room table to discuss the matter at hand. You sat at the head of the table, with Roy to your left and Arthur to your right. You and Roy explained what happened at the ranch, adding details that you forgot to write about in the letter. At some point as the three of you talked,

your daughter came up to the table. With her grandmother asleep and all of her toys left at home, she had nothing to do, so she decided to join you.

You hoisted her up to your lap and let her stay with you as you continued talking.

Despite the conversation still going, Arthur lost all attention as soon as he saw your daughter. What shocked him first was that you had a daughter in the first place, but what shocked him even more was how little the girl looked like your husband. While still trying to seem as he was listening, Arthur inconspicuously kept looking between your daughter and your husband. While Roy had dark, brown hair, the little girl in your lap had light, dirty blonde locks. Her eyes, which were traveling all over the room, looking for something to busy herself with, were a whirlpool of green and blue, while Roy’s, which at the moment were looking down on his lap, were a dull, brown shade. Suddenly, realization hit Arthur. He started to think back on your last encounter. Could it be? He tried to figure out how old the child was, and tried to remember the time of the year when the two of you were together. He could feel himself getting lightheaded as all the thoughts filled his mind, making him not hear his own name being called.

“Arthur,” you said once again when he didn’t answer you the first time. As if being pulled out from a dream, he looked around, suddenly forgetting where he was.

“I said, what do you think about the plan?” you said, looking at Arthur at the same time as the girl in your lap.

Arthur could feel all the eyes on him, and a color painted his face. He could faintly remember what you talked about a moment ago. Something about the best path to take back to the ranch, how dangerous the road might be with wolves roaming around. After a moment of pause, he returned with, “Sounds good to me,” and the conversation went on, with Arthur still barely paying attention.

_________________

You carefully slipped out of the covers, trying not to wake your husband up, before walking across the room on your tiptoes, opening the door and leaving the room. You couldn’t sleep. With Arthur’s proximity, you found yourself laying in bed with the thoughts of him. You tried to squash those pesky thoughts, turned from one side to the other in your bed as you kept telling yourself that you couldn’t, shouldn’t do it despite how much you wanted to. As you looked at your husband, his face illuminated by the light from the moon outside, you thought of doing to him what you did to Arthur all those years ago. You left Arthur for a search for a better, calmer and stable life, and now you want to leave that life to go back to Arthur.

You leaned against the kitchen counter as you poured yourself a glass of whiskey, looking out of the window into the world outside. With it being late fall, some trees have already shed their leaves, leaving once bushy woods stripped. You could see birds, once hidden from the prying eyes by the leaves now on full display on the branches. They were close enough that you could hear them sing, but not enough to understand what it is they were saying.

Suddenly, you heard the wood planks squeak behind you and smiled. 

“Can’t sleep either?” you said without turning around.

“No,” Arthur replied as he went to stand next to you.

Without another word you took a shot glass and poured him one.

“Thank you for coming,” you said as you gave him the glass. “I was worried you wouldn’t.”

“‘Course I would,” he said before swinging back the shot. 

At finally having a moment alone with him, you were fighting back the urge to spill everything that’s been on your mind, to ask every question and tell every answer that you’ve been holding for the past three years and for the past few hours that he’s been here. You decided it’s best to start off slowly.

“How have you been? How’s the gang?”

“Fine, I guess,” he said as he turned around to lean against the counter, crossing his hand on his chest. “Picked up a few people along the way. The gang’s twice its size now.”

You nodded at his answer.

“Seems you’ve had an addition too.”

The statement made heat rise to your face, and you swallowed down, nodding again. 

“What’s her name?” he asked after a few moments of silence.

“Lily.”

“Beautiful name,” he said. “How old is she?”

“Three,” you said, knowing very well where this was going. 

“Is she mine?” His voice was calm and reticent despite the fact that his mind was racing so fast he thought he was going to faint no matter what your answer was.

You closed your eyes, letting the weight of his question wash over you. The question that was lingering in the air since the moment your daughter was born, and that only became stronger when Arthur came today, was finally asked. To your own surprise, you felt yourself relax after a few seconds had passed. With the question being finally asked, you could feel the weight of it lifted from your shoulder.

“I don’t know,” you said, turning your head away

“What do you mean you don’t know?” he returned, somewhat exasperated.

“I don’t know, Arthur,” you repeated, your voice more stern, but still hushed as to not wake anyone up. “I don’t know.” You lowered your head before speaking again. “I don’t know. Roy and I were trying during that time.”  

You held yourself in your hands, your head hanging low. About three years ago, Roy and you have been trying for months to get pregnant. Nothing was happening, until suddenly, it did. Roy was overjoyed, feeling that Isis has finally shined her light on the two of you. You, however, knew it took more than an Egyptian goddess of fertility to bring you to the situation at hand. Right away, you did the math, and despite how much you tried to tell yourself that the days could be a little bit off, the numbers didn’t lie. It only became more apartment when your daughter was born; within a few days, you could see traces of him in her; her light hair, her blue eyes. Even her lips and nose looked like his. She was a visual reminder, everyday, of what you and Arthur could have had.

“She looks like me, you know,” Arthur said, walking around to stand in front of you, his proximity making your heartbeat quicken like it always did.

“I know,” you said, your voice barely audible.

“What if she’s mine?”

You didn’t say anything, keeping your head low and your eyes focused on the ground until you felt his hand, soft and warm on your cheek, making you look up. 

You felt enveloped in his love as you looked into his eyes. They were kind and inviting as he looked at you, and without saying anything, they offered shelter from all the worries of life.

His thumb traced your lower lip and you involuntarily opened your mouth, gasping. He stepped a little bit closer, pushing you against the counter with his body, making you feel all of him against you, the thin material of his union suit not leaving an inch of space between the two of you.

“I missed you,” he said. 

He pressed his lips softly against yours, giving you a chance to slip away if you so desired to. You didn’t, waving your hands in his hair and bringing him closer instead, deepening the kiss. You hated yourself for not being stronger, for not resisting your inner desires. You hated how with just a touch, he had you under his control. His hands ran down your sides, following your curves from your chest over your waist and to your hips, stopping there. One of your hands reached out to touch his cheek, feeling a light stubble there (he went to you right away after finishing a mission, not having a chance to even shave) You remembered the night the two of you shared three years ago, how the feeling of his lips lingered on your for months after. 

You wanted to get lost in the kiss, in him, but suddenly, a voice coming from the stairs pulled you out of your reverie, and the two of you broke apart as fast as you came together. You were slightly panting, both from the kiss and from the rush of anxiety at being caught. You looked up at the stairs from where the voice came, and after a few moments, two small feet came into the light, padding barefoot down the stairs.

“What are you doing here, sweetheart?” you said as you kneeled down to look at your daughter. 

One of her hands held onto the arm of her stuffed bear, a friend who kept her company at night, while the other brushed the sleep out of her eyes, trying to stay awake long enough to talk to you. “Grandma’s snoring,” she drew before yawning.

You smiled, ruffling her blonde locks a bit before saying, “Well, you can sleep with daddy and me tonight then.” 

Arthur stood a few feet away, watching the two of you without saying a word. He could feel resentment bubbling in him at your husband, and at the same time, himself. Despite how much he wanted to put all the blame on Roy (for “stealing” you), he realized that the only person he had to blame was himself. If he wasn’t so stupid all those years ago, if he just took your hand and let you lead him out of the outlaw life, this - a life with a house, a daughter and you as his wife - could’ve all been his. “Darlin’, right now ain’t a good time,” he would say when you would press him about finally making your escape. “We need more money if we wanna start on our own” would be another of his excuses. Truth be told, as much as he wanted to start a fresh, new life with you, he was afraid. Outlaw life was everything he’d ever known. He was raised and became the man he was today in it. He was terrified that out there, in the world of law and order, in which one woke up in the morning to start a day of work, and had proper suppers at the table with their family, he wouldn’t survive.

The sound of Lily’s voice, calling for him, pulled him out of his thoughts. Her clear, blue eyes, looked up at him as she asked him if he was her mother’s friend. You turned around to look at Arthur, and after a few seconds he said, “Yeah, I am. Something like that.” She smiled in return, calmed at knowing that the strange, big man was not a stranger at all but a friend. As you picked her up, ready to take her to bed, she introduced herself to Arthur, and asked him what his name was. He introduced himself, and in return, she said, “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Arthur.” You didn’t know why, but at seeing the scene play out, you could feel tears well up in your eyes. It could’ve all been so different, you thought. The three of you were so close at being a family, practically looked like one right now. You took a shaky breath, trying to calm yourself down before murmuring that it’s already too late, and walking over to your bedroom door with your daughter in your hands. You stopped at the door for a second, fumbling with the door knob. Arthur watched your back as you stood, your daughter’s head peeking from behind your shoulder, before you turned the knob and disappeared into the room. 

He stood in the dark, empty dining room for a few more minutes, going over the scene that just unfolded a million times. He could feel the weight of everything crushing him down, breaking his bones and turning them into dust. He leaned heavily against the kitchen counter, shaking his head.

“Idiot,” he said to himself before taking the bottle of whiskey and pouring himself another shot. 

______________

The sound of birds singing outside accompanied you as you woke up. It was still early and no one was up yet, so you got ready without any hurry before going into the kitchen to prepare breakfast. Not a while later, Bertha joined you in the kitchen, and the two of you had everything ready right as the men came to take their seats at the table.

You kept quiet as you ate breakfast, with Arthur sitting across from you, Lily next to him, and Roy next to you. Bertha, being the kind host that she was, something that she got used to from the years of marriage to an army Sergeant, couldn’t sit still and continued to check up on everybody, pouring coffee even when the cups were halfway full and making sure there were no empty plates on the table. It was only when Roy said, “Enough, mother” did she take a seat at the head of the table and started her own meal.

As you ate your breakfast, Roy and Arthur talked, discussing once again the best route to take back to the ranch. Despite not planning on going himself, Roy still wanted to make sure his opinion on the matter was considered and suggested the main road, which although would take longer, was safer from wild animals and any “savage outlaws that roamed the plains.” Arthur snickered at his choice of words, and noted that if he wanted to “come back to a ranch and not heap of ash, a shortcut is a better option.” Roy didn’t reply anything and turned back to his meal.

As Bertha sipped on her coffee, she turned to face you and asked, “Are you going too?”

“No,” both Roy and Arthur said in unison, and “Yes,” said you.

An awkward silence fell over as the three of you looked between each other. You could feel the men eyeing you in bafflement, Roy especially, but you looked at Arthur and spoke to him first.

“What do you mean, ‘no’?” you said, disbelief painted all over your face.

Arthur shook his head, looking away and furrowing his brows.

“You’re not coming, it’s too dangerous,” he said, turning back to face you.

You let out a small chuckle before saying, “We’ve faced far more dangerous things than some puny cattle rustlers.”

Arthur dropped his fork and knife on the table with a loud thud and said, “You have a daughter now, I ain’t gonna let you put yourself in harm's way.”

“But you’re gonna let yourself get in harm's way?” you returned, tilting your head and squinting your eyes at him.

“They know who you are, they don’t know me,” he said, the volume of his voice long past what was appropriate for a breakfast conversation. “I can get in and out and they won’t know what hit em”

“And do you expect me to just sit patiently and wait?” you said, throwing your hands around. “What if something goes wrong? What if they’re more dangerous than we thought? Am I supposed to just wait till someone brings in your body?” Your words began to tangle in each other, becoming almost incoherent as you spoke faster than your mind could process. They, however, were cut short as Arthur shouted your name and hit his palm down on the table, making a glass of water spill.

Finally, the silence fell over the dining room once again and the only thing that could be heard were drops of water hitting the floor. Both Bertha and Roy sat wearing similar expressions, their mouths hanging open, eyes wide at what they just saw and heard. They felt like spectators, watching a play unfold before their eyes.

As you tried to calm yourself down, you remembered how back when you were in the gang, the two of you almost never went on missions without each other. At first, it bothered Dutch that if he wanted to send you on a mission, Arthur was bound to come along (and vice versa), but soon, he came to accept that the two of you were a package deal. He even took a notice that the jobs went smoother when the two of you were together, evident by the fact that you would get the job done quicker, and your gains were higher than those that Arthur and you brought when you went separately.

“You know I can’t let you go alone, Arthur,” you said after some time.

As if riding down the same memory lane you just did, he sighted and shook his head. 

“I know,” he said before getting up from the table and going over to the room where he stayed.

Slightly shaken up from the intense display that took place, Bertha got up from the table, and without a word started cleaning up, taking empty plates and cups and putting them in the sink. You sat with your eyes closed, taking deep breaths, and bracing yourself for what was to come. You could already feel Roy open his mouth, could already hear his voice…

  Arthur was haphazardly throwing his stuff in his bag, crumpling his shirts and pants into balls and pushing them into his bag as if the clothes themselves were at fault for his mood. He remembered how much fun the two of you had when you went on the jobs together. How the sight of blood and the smell of gunpowder did nothing more than excite you. A smile broke through his solemn face at the memory. But now, he thought, it was different. Not only had it been years since you were in the line of fire, but you now had a child. Your life has changed, you got away, broke free from the never ending nightmare in which one has to always look behind their back and sleep with one eye open and a gun under their pillow. He didn’t want you back into that kind of life, if it could even be called that. Deep in his mind, however, he knew it wasn’t for him to decide.

He ran a hand through his hair, leaning over a dresser and closing his eyes. He could’ve probably plunged deeper into his thoughts, but a sound of hushed tones outside got his attention, and he straightened up, inching closer to the door and pressed his ear against it. 

  “I was okay with your past, but this is pushing it,” Roy said.

“Is my past pushing it?”

“Your past is in the guest bedroom, getting dressed.”

Your shoulders slumped as a heavy sigh left your lips. You and Roy have been bickering for the past five minutes. Truth be told, the bickering has been going on for the past few days, but only now has it culminated. The tension that he felt between you and Arthur just a few minutes ago drove him over the edge - the edge to which he came from seeing you hold a gun, hearing more about your past and now, seeing Arthur - and he found himself not being able to hold his thoughts and feelings in any longer. Just like it always happened with couples who started arguing about one thing, only to move on to a completely unrelated one, you both got defensive. The conversation was fruitless. Nothing of the matter was discussed, no solution was reached and everyone was left thinking the other was in the wrong, leaving the two of you sitting next to each other like strangers in a train station, waiting for the next train.

“I’m doing this for us, Roy,” you said.

“You’re doing this for yourself,” he spit out before adding, a little bit softer, “You’ve changed a lot in these couple of weeks. I feel like I don’t know who you are anymore.”

You felt yourself detach from the world upon hearing his words. You could faintly hear him continue talking, referencing the relationship between his mother and father, and how the former always consulted her husband before any major decision, but you were not listening. You smiled weakly to yourself at the irony that upon showing him the real you, with all your past and your secrets, he said he didn’t know you anymore. Didn’t know, or he didn’t want to, you thought. Your mind instantly went back to Arthur, like it often tended to these past few days, and you thought of how from the beginning, he knew who you were, and without a word, accepted and loved you.

“You ready?”

Arthur’s voice pulled you out of your mind, and stopped Roy in his speech. You looked at Arthur, and then at Roy. For the first time since you got married, you didn’t feel anything when looking into your husband's eyes. You could see him plead, silently, for you not to go.

Without saying a word, you got up from your chair and went to your room to get 

ready.

_________________

  You turned your head around to watch your husband stand on the porch as you and Arthur roared off to your destination. You wondered what he thought as his figure grew smaller and smaller till he completely disappeared behind the trees. You turned back forward, spurring your horse.

The feeling of being back on a horse, with an iron on your hip and wind in your hair was exhilarating. You could feel life flow through your veins as you held the reins. Through clear plains, mountains and forests, the two of you rode non-stop for a few hours. There was not a single person on your way, only occasional elks, deers, and raccoons accompanying you on the journey. For a moment, you felt like you were once again an outlaw. All of this felt so familiar; you and Arthur, adrenaline in your veins, dirt road ahead. For a moment, you caught yourself thinking that if it weren’t for your daughter back home, you simply would’ve kept riding on.

As you kept going, the sun slowly began to set, painting the road in front of you in orange. 

“Let’s make camp,” Arthur said when the sun completely disappeared, and the night loomed over.

As you found a secluded space in the woods, the two of you fell into a long-established routine, with you going out to get some firewood and Arthur hunting a rabbit for the two of you to eat. The night might’ve been a bit chilly, but with the campfire next to you and the rum Arthur found in his satchel, the two of you were nice and warm as you enjoyed food, drinks and conversations that piled up from years apart. 

Your combined laughs could be heard all throughout the forest as Arthur told you about the latest predicament that John got himself into, and which he of course had to save him from. Sounds like John, you thought. You couldn’t tell how many times you and Arthur were sent to rescue him from some sort of trouble. Being the youngest, John always felt that he had to prove something to someone, which in the end, only proved that he was still the baby of the gang (despite at that point being a full grown adult).

Gradually, the laughter died down, but the smile still lingered on your lips.

“What are you so happy about?” Arthur said.

You looked into the fire, watching the flames dance and reach towards the sky, as you answered. “It’s been so long since I felt so at ease, so free…” you said.“I just-I’m real happy being here.”

Arthur hummed at your answer before saying, “Ranch life ain’t cutting it for you no more?”

“A woman can only shovel shit for so long,” you said, making Arthur chuckle. You took another swig of the rum before passing it to Arthur.

“I took this all for granted when we was together,” you said, looking around, “the freedom, the nature, the road. And now when I don’t have it, I crave it.”

You looked up, catching Arthur’s gaze and holding it as you continued. 

“I find myself so often thinking about the past,” you said and added, a little lower, “about you, how much I miss it all.”

Arthur could already feel the effect of your words on him, could already feel the intensity with which his heart beat faster. Hearing you say those words, sparked a flame in him. Only a few seconds passed before you continued speaking, but it was enough for Arthur to imagine, for a brief moment, a future with the two of you together. Could it be possible? Did he still have a chance at the happy ever after? He always was a firm believer that you can’t expect good things to happen to you while doing bad things, but in that instance, he allowed himself to believe that something good could happen.

“Oh, Arthur,” you said, shaking your head, “I think I made a mistake all those years ago.” 

The camp was silent except for the crackling of fire as your words hung in the air. Unlike a few years ago, you didn’t backtrack on your words, didn’t feel embarrassed by them. You meant every syllable and every letter. As much as you adored your current life, with your cows and your ranch, you found yourself thinking more often that you weren’t meant for it. You were tired of playing the role of the doting housewife, a rancher, shoveling shit and milking cows. The real you was out there, among the horses and the gun smoke. The thought only got stronger the closer you were to Arthur, and now that you were sitting next to each other, your thighs almost touching together, it reached its pinnacle.

No more words needed to be said as you held Arthur’s gaze. Everything has been said years ago. You stood up and got into his lap, draping your hands over his shoulders while his instantly went for your hips. The two of you stayed like this for a moment, admiring each other under the moonlight. You were conscious of nothing except the feeling of each other’s bodies against one another. Finally you moved your head closer, brushing your lips against his. You could feel his breath on your lips, the rum that the two of you drank still fresh on them. He closed his eyes, already leaning forward towards you. 

His hands tightened on your hips when you pressed your lips against his, slow and gentle like you always were. The two of you quickly found a comfortable pace, your lips moving against each other in a perfect flow, your tongues brushing against one another every once in a while. Instinctively, you started to move your hips against his, searching for that delicious feeling you were craving. Arthur wasn’t holding back either, moving his hips in tandem with yours, brushing his clothed erection over your center. His hands left your hips, moving to your blouse and unbuttoning it, revealing your naked chest.

You helped him completely remove your blouse, throwing it into direction unknown. As soon as it was away, his mouth was on your skin, starting at your neck and moving down to your chest.

“Arthur,” you moaned when his tongue circled your nipple. You tangled your fingers in his hair, gently massaging his scalp and pushing your chest closer to his mouth. You could feel his beard scraping at your chest, adding a slight burn that only heightened your pleasures. One of his hands started palming your other breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers and making you throw your head back, moaning into the night. 

He started going up your neck once again, leaving light nips and kisses from your chest, up your collarbone and neck, reaching to your ear. He kissed behind your ear while one of his hands was palming your breast, sending jolts of pleasure all through your being.

“Darlin’,” he said, kissing over your jaw and cheek, “I ain’t never lettin’ you go again.”

When it came to words, Arthur’s were always simple. He didn’t use any extraordinary vocabulary or elaborate euphemism. He always said what he meant, and his words always came from his heart. Hearing him utter this promise now, which held a vision of the future so beautiful you could hardly imagine it, made you teeter on the verge of crying tears of joy. You crashed your lips against his, not knowing any other way to express the sheer mix of love, lust and longing you were feeling. 

Neither of you could wait much longer and you untangled yourself from each other, standing up and starting to remove each other's clothes. He helped you unbuckle your belt and throw it aside while you unbuttoned his shirt. His lips were back on yours as he helped you pull his shirt away and went to work on the buttons of your pants. Before long, the little camp you set up was littered with your combined clothes, leaving you in just your drawers and Arthur in his union suit.

It was a beautiful night, with a sky so clear that the amount of stars around was inestimable. You, however, didn’t pay any attention to them, keeping your eyes on Arthur as you slowly pulled down your drawers, letting them fall to the ground. His breathing became haggard as he took in your naked form, flushed in pink from the campfire next to you. He's seen you naked before countless times, yet the sight of our body never stopped to take his breath away. His breathing was caught in his throat as he watched your every movement, following your hands as they reached out to the buttons of his union suit.

You could see the reflection of the fire in his eyes as you stood in front of him, popping button after button of his union suit, revealing his tan skin. Once the last button was open, he helped you take his union suit off, leaving the two of you naked to each other.

He took your hand in his and helped you down to the bedroll, covering your body with his. With the campfire next to you, and Arthur’s body covering yours, you felt warm and safe, protected from any and every thing the world could throw at you. One of his hands reached out, cradling your face. 

You placed your hand on his chest, running it up to his head and tangling it in his hair, bringing him down and pressing your lips against his. The kiss was as fiery and as hot as the fire you were laying next to, and in that moment, you realized that you never fell as alive as when you were with Arthur. “Resist it, and your soul grows sick with longing for things it has forbidden to itself,” you remembered a quote from the book you were reading a few weeks ago, and realized you were tired of resisting. You didn’t know what tomorrow had in store for you, but right now, you had Arthur and that’s all that mattered.

Breaking the kiss, he looked you in the eyes and said, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

You didn’t even have to think to answer. Your answer came so quick it almost sounded as if the two of you talked at the same time.

The lopsided smile that appeared on Arthur’s lips at your words was so genuine and innocent, it made you smile in return. You made sure to burn the image of it in your memory, just like all the others you got throughs the years when the two of you said, “I love you”. 

He settled comfortably between your spread legs and took a hold of his member before slowly pushing in.

“Arthur,” you moaned his name, clawing at his back when he bottomed out. You were practically dripping with how wet you were, yet his girth still gave you that delicious feeling of being stretched.

He kept still for a few moments, letting you get used to him all while whispering praises in your ear and kissing down your neck. When you felt you were ready, you moved your hips.

As if in a dream, silhouetted by the trees, the two of you made love under the starry night sky. The erotic novels would be envious of the passion the two of your shared; your bodies, sweaty, moving against each other in a perfect rhythm, your hands and legs, entangled in each other, your moans and sighs, unbounded, sounding in an empty forest. You were so lost in each other, you didn’t care if anyone heard you, the existence of other people didn’t register to you. The world was only as big as your camp, and the only people in it were the two of you.

You could feel yourself near the peak, could feel your legs twitch each time Arthur hit that delicious spot in you. He could feel it too, with how your walls were squeezing him tighter, and how your eyes were rolling to the back of your head each time he pushed in you. He wasn’t far behind either. One of his hands reached between the two of you, finding your clit and teasing it. It was as if an electric current shot through you; all your energy centered on where Arthur was touching you. You dug your nails into Arthur’s back, holding on to him as you breathed his name into his ear.

“Come on, darlin’,” he whispered in your ear, “let me feel you.”

As if hearing his voice was the last piece you needed to fall apart, you did. You saw white for a few moments as the immense pleasure took over your body, igniting every last nerve in you to life. You kept your body moving against his, your primal urges making you chase every last bit of pleasure you could get. 

The sight of you so lost in lust, your face contoured from the pleasure you were feeling pulled Arthur overboard, and he came a few moments later, spilling in you and  warming your walls with his seed. 

The two of you stayed like this for a few more minutes, entangled in each other, whispering “I love you”s as you showered each other with kisses, from neck, to cheeks, to forehead and lips. 

In the end, the two of you moved to the tent, draping a blanket over your bodies and holding onto each other. As the night went on, the tent filled with your combined dreams and hopes for the future. For the first time since the two of you got together, Arthur seriously discussed the possibility of leaving the gang so the three of you (You, Arthur and your daughter) could run away somewhere. You listened to him with your mouth open, not daring to make a single noise in fear of missing even a word he said. Could it be possible, you thought. Could you finally have the perfect ever after you’ve always dreamt of with Arthur? By the tone of his voice and how deeply in details he went as he planned the possible escape, you realized that your new life was right around the corner.

Despite the exhilarating conversation you were having, the two of you remembered you still had to wake up early tomorrow to make it to the ranch in time (the final loose end you had to tie before you were free). Reluctantly, you brought the conversation to a close - hopefully to be picked up again later - and fell asleep in each other’s arms.

[justatidalwaveoffeelings]

Ok, so I don't write. I have never written a fanfic. This doesn't have a name and it's probably poorly written. It's Rachel's point of view around the time of Cammie's second kidnapping attempt. I was bored and I had this idea stuck in my head so here it is. I debate not even posting it but what the hey🤷🏼‍♀️

@averagejoesolomon you totally got me hooked on the Rachel only calls Matt, Matthew. So all the credit to you on that one!

This whole thing is basically read at your own risk. Haha

Just like that, what she had left of her world was crumbling. It happened so quickly. Rachel hadn't seen what had happened. She just knew that one moment she had been talking to Cynthia McHenry and the next she felt her instincts as an operative hit her like a swift punch to the gut.

Something was wrong. She looked around the ballroom looking for Cammie but she didn't see her. She didn't see any of her freinds or even that Goode boy. Never one to be dissuaded from her mission, she  decided to look for Abby. She at least she might know where her neice was.

As much as her sister annoyed her, she was happy to have her back in her life. However temporary it might be. She was aware how an operative's life gets crazy. She knew her sister was dedicated but she didn't know how far they would be pulled apart when she stepped out of the field after Matthew's passing. They had just recently talked about why there hadn't been much contact between the two of them in recent years. Why Abby had walked farther away from Rachel and Cammie and deeper into her various covers. Rachel knew the guilt the came with losing Matthew. The countless nights that kept her up thinking about what might have happened if she told if him to stay home. If she had pulled the "wife card" and asked him not to keep secrets. She knew that Abby had been hurt. Rachel had never lived through anything harder. It didn't surprise her that everyone else who also loved him felt the same. When he died there was a very real whole in each of their hearts. She had suspected Abby just didn't know how to miss Matthew with her. After all, her sister had never been one to grieve in front of others. Rachel hadn't know just how deep routed her sister's guilt and regret had dragged her. Rachel regretted not going to get her baby sister back sooner after Matthew's passing but she hadn't wanted to press Abby too hard in a time of grief for both of them.

Now, if only she could FIND HER.  Her sister always had a knack for being where she wasn't supposed be. So, if Rachel could think if the most inconvenient spot for someone to be she might find her.

When she had finished looking around the ballroom the hair on the back of her neck started to stand on end. She felt a cold sweat start. Her blouse was too tight. She pulled at her collar and silently chastised herself being so obviously uncomfortable. Rachel wanted to tell her instincts to shut up, that nothing was wrong. She knew better though, something was off.

She felt eyes. She pretended to check her make-up in a small compact while checking behind her. She locked on a familiar pair of green eyes staring back at her. Of course he was there. She had just checked the whole room and hadn't spotted him once. If Joe was about to poke fun about her being off now was not the time. When she turned to face him she realized that he wore an expression just as grim as her own.

"You got the same sick feeling in your gut?"

Before she could respond something seemed to dawn on Joe.

"Where's Cammie, Rachel?"

"I don't know. I've been looking for her, or her roommates. Even Abby."

"Zach". Joe mumbled the boy's name. "He's probably with her, right? Did you see them slip out?"

"No, well maybe, but if I knew that I wouldn't be so gosh darn worried now would I, Joseph?!" She hadn't meant to snap but she was feeling worse by the second. Now her instincts seemed to be at work on her stomach.

When the shot went off they didn't question where it had come from. They didn't need to wait for some sort of command. Old habits did truly die hard.  They were across the ballroom in seconds. Not drawing the attention of a single onlooker. They slipped out the back door into a dark ally. The Circle. They were there. Beside her Joe started to speak into thier comms unit. There was a big problem. Rachel looked for Cammie. She was being snagged back down the ally, toward the safety of the door by Zach. Neirher of them was bleeding. She was able to breath agian. The bullet could have been a warning shot. It didn't feel that way though. Where did it land?

She brought herself back to the scene. They were after her daughter and she had to protect her daughter. The kids were fighting like operatives. That was something the headmistress in her couldn't have missed and was quietly proud of. Now only if they could all get out of it. Other gallagher girls rushed out beside her, ready for the fight, ready to protect Cammie.

The second that Rachel could she ran at Cam. Yelling Cammie's name she threw herself against her daughter, deeper into the shadows of other gallagher girls. Farther into safety. Only after the immediate securing of Cammie did Rachel realize that people were still screaming. It was Macey standing over.....

Abby. Abby. Abigail. She knew Cammie was secured. Joe would help make sure of it. She needed to get to her sister. She needed to help her sister. She was bleeding from the shoulder, there was so much blood pooling beneath her. Rachel couldn't breathe. She couldn't catch her breathe. Rachel had always been cool under fire; a natural operative. This felt so different. The operative in her was mad for missing the fight. For not getting there in time. The mother in her was scared and hurting for her daughter. The sister in her felt cheated and so very crushed. She couldn't lose Abby on top of everything else. Her heart beat to one terrible pulse-  She was not ready to lose anymore family. She dropped to her knees beside her sister. She didn't know if she had told Macey to go back to her roommates but she got up and walked away. Rachel pressed some leather jacket into her sister's wound. She didn't realize that she was crying until she saw her own tears falling on Abby's face. Rachel was screaming. She really. couldn't. breath. She heard screaming and crying in the background. Cammie. She couldn't take this or rather she didn't want to. Her sister way dying in front of her and her daughter was being emotionally tormented. She debating getting up, but she couldn't stop crying. She didn't want Cammie to see her so emotionally distraught and she couldn't bring herself to her feet. Cammie would have to be strong.

Joe was on the seeminly knew what she was thinking because instead of coming toward Abby he commanded the women around Cammie. Keeping her safe. Cammie's sobbing became softer. Rachel's didn't.

She didn't get up when the paramedic team arrived. She wasn't going to leave Abby. She couldn't lose her. She didn't feel like a good operative in control. She felt like a big sister, weak from all that crying. She felt Joe behind her. Pulling her up from her knees. Trying to tell her to let go of Abby's hand. She forced Joe to let go of her arms. Desperate to be the one who fixed it. To do something, anything. All she could do was tell the medic what she saw, and tell Abby that she was going to be ok.

When she turned back around he was there. Teary but not crying yet.

"She's strong. She'll pull through". He tried to reassure her but his voice shook. His hand on her arm felt unsteady. Joe never cried. It was going to be a long night. She had to keep busy. She went to check on her daughter. She couldn't lose any more of her family. 

Rachel saw the footage. She knew in that it all happened in a few minutes. It felt like this night would never end. She watched that security footage obsessively outside of her office, sitting on the corridor floor with her head on the wall, right underneath Gilligan's sword. Cavan's sword. Maybe Abby was right. They should have thrown it in the lake. Her daughter was asleep inside her office, away from danger for now. Abby was in surgery. Abby might of died. Abby could still die. Every time she let herself linger on that fact she felt like crying all over again. So, she didn't let herself think of it. She watched the security clip again waiting and watching for a clue. Something. She couldn't truly focus on it though. She was too tired or emotionally distraught. It didn't matter the reason, she knew that a truly great operative had to know when to wave her white flag. In that moment she didn't even feel a little guilty about turning off the video.

Joe stepped out of her office. She did a double take, the last time she had seen him look that way was the night he told her about Matthew. He had been crying. Joe Solomon does not cry. There he was though. He face was streaked eith tears and his shoulders shook slightly. She braced herself for the worse but he just stood there. He looked awful. She moved forward to give him a hug. She couldn't help herself, she started crying again too. Rachel hated to cry in front of anyone but she figured that this secret was safe with him, just like any of the other she had shared with him.  She was thankful that she had a freind in him. Thankful that someone else loved Cammie and was willing to fight for her. 

After a moment they separated and sat down on the corridor floors.

"I'm so sorry Rachel. I'm so so sorry."

"For what?"

"For everything."

"Joe. After everything that's happened tonight, we are not going over this again..  Its not your fault". Joe started to cry again. Rachel hadn't seen Joe cry so much. She couldn't resist asking him

"What?"

He looked at her pitifully. "You don't know whats my fault, belive me. I.... I think you should think it's my fault."

She wasn't suprised that he was saying these things. She knew of course that he felt guilty. Matt went on the mission he was supposed to. She just wished that he didn't get so hung up on it.

He continued "This never would have happened if Matt were here. He would have taken care of it, you know?"

Of course she didn't know that to be true but she had felt it as well. She didn't want to dwell on what it could have been so she told him that they didn't know that. That he couldn't control who the director sent on that mission. The circle might have come after Cammie even if Matt was alive. Matthew was just a human being, who made mistakes. They didn't know if Matthew being alive would change everything. Joe didnt seem convinced though and Rachel couldn't blame him. It was well worn territory in a familiar conversation. They didnt truly fight, but when it came to blame about Matthews death they didn't exactly see eye to eye. Rachel thought about Matt. It struck her though that as bad as it was at times it could also be worse. Rachel thought about losing Cammie or Abby or even Joe and shuddered. She didn't want to lose anymore family.

She tried to reassure him

"Hey, it will be ok. We will take care of it together ok? We'll all take care of one another. We will do the best we can. Just promise me we will try. Ok?"

Joe had stopped crying but his attention seemed to be drifting.

"I'll try...ok?" It sounded so defeated. Rachel didn't want to press him further. Everyone had already had such a rough night. She let the conversation go until he quipped.

"I feel like I should be telling you these things."

They couldn't help each giving a small laugh

They sat there. They waited for a doctor to come tell them that Abby would make it. They sat and waited for Cammie to wake up. Theorized ways to keep her out of harms way. They talked about surviving. All of them. Together.

Rachel rested in knowing that at least for that day. She wasn't losing any more family. 

[arcturusreads]

PLEASE DROP A PT 2 OF PRAYERS FOR THE PLUMBER

Prayers for the Plumber Part Two

You can find part one here

I hope you enjoy this one! And I might just have a part three in mind...

It had been a full day since the Hayes clan had descended upon Meredith house. Thankfully, the kids had gotten along well enough and there hadn’t been any issues with them. Bailey had been basking in the fact that there were more boys in the house that he could talk to.

With Irene and Cormac both at work, Meredith was currently keeping an eye on all five of the kids not that Cormac’s son really needed adult supervision. The two of them were set up in the living room finishing off their homework whilst her own kids were in the back garden playing. Relishing in the calm and quiet, Meredith had sat herself down on the dining table with her paperwork and tablet, fuelled by a large mug of coffee she was sure would see at least three refills before her work was done.

She’d lost herself reading a research paper when someone had cleared their throat. Jumping a little she looked up to see Liam and Austin standing by the table, sheepish looks on both of their faces.

“Sorry, Dr Grey,” Austin murmured.

She shook her head smiling at them, “Don’t worry about it, I should have been paying more attention. And I thought I told you both to call me Meredith.” It was odd having two kids who were living with her call her Dr Grey, she wanted them to feel comfortable around the house. “Is everything okay?

Meredith couldn’t help but be slightly concerned. Cormac had often spoken about how independent his kids now were. They liked doing their own thing, didn’t need anyone to keep an eye on them and were fairly self-sufficient. So, hackles were raised when they had decided to come over to her.

“Uh, yeah. Actually, we were wondering if we could talk to you…” Austin began to trail off, feeling slightly awkward and stupid that he should even ask her.

When Cormac had first brought up the like of Dr Grey at home, the boys were immediately curious. They didn’t take a whole load of interest in Cormac’s colleagues but they knew that he didn’t really speak to a lot of them when they were in Switzerland. He wasn’t particularly close to anyone but Dr Grey was something that he couldn’t seem to stop mentioning. The boys were pretty sure that Cormac didn’t even realise how much he brought her up in conversation.

So, after the second week of hearing about her, Austin and Liam had decided to do some snooping online. Typing in the words Meredith Grey came up with multiple articles on the woman that the boys were pretty sure was the one their Dad didn’t stop going on about. She was successful and obviously busy so Austin felt like an idiot for disturbing her.

“Yeah, sure. Pull up a chair,” she nodded to the two seats on one side of her.

Feeling a little relief wash over them, the boys took a seat, glad that Meredith hadn’t just turned them away.

“Da said that you lost your husband a couple of years ago.” Liam hadn’t been quite sure how to bring this topic up and couldn’t help but feel slightly guilty at the mention of it. He had seen the way his dad got when their mom was mentioned.

A sad smile crossed Meredith face, “Yeah, it’s been around six years now.”

Before Liam could carry on, Austin interrupted. “Sorry, we didn’t mean to bring it up.”

“No, no. It’s okay, did you guys want to ask something?”

The ache of losing Derek had never completely left her. There were days where it hit her like a tsunami wave, where it took every ounce of her strength to get through the day when her kids were the only reason that she was able to survive. Today, that ache wasn’t all-consuming. There were two kids in front of her that had lost their mother, they’d watched her die. So, if they had questions they wanted to ask, or just wanted to talk to her about it then she could be there for them.

“Have you dated someone since then?” Austin looked down at his hands as he asked.

That wasn’t the question that Meredith had been expecting but she still answered. “I have but it took some time. Dating other people… it’s never once meant that I stopped loving Derek. He’s always with me.”

Austin slowly nodded as she spoke. It was the answer that he had wanted to hear. Abigail had told both Liam and Austin to make sure that their dad eventually moved on when the time was right. At the time, they’d agreed, wanting to do anything their mother had wanted them to do. They’d also spoken about to their aunt. Irene had been worried that Cormac would end up spending the rest of his days lonely, especially as the boys got older and went to college. They’d all come to the conclusion that within the next year they were going to get him on a dating app.

The reality of it was different though. Cormac hadn’t been with anyone since Abi had passed away. He hadn’t shown interest in anyone, so their mother’s final wish had been pushed to the back of their mind. Until recently when the boys could tell that the mere mention of a certain General Surgeon was enough to change his demeanour.

They knew, in their heart of hearts, that their dad would never stop loving Abigail. They saw the way he still looked over the old photo albums, a softness taking over his eyes. They heard the way he spoke about her like she was still the breath of fresh air in his life. Hearing it from someone else though, someone who had lost the person they were meant to spend the rest of their life with, gave both of the boys a little more comfort.

“Could I ask you something else?”

“Sure,” Meredith had pushed her work to the side, giving the boys her full attention.

Austin looked out of the kitchen window, glancing at the three kids playing out there. It had only then struck him how young they must have been when their dad had passed away. He wondered how many memories of him were actually solidified in their mind.

“How did you kids take it? I’m sorry if I’m being nosey but…”

“But you want to know and that’s understandable. You aren’t being nosey.” Meredith sighed, thinking back to the first time she had told them. “Zola’s the only one who really remembers Derek. Bailey was too young, and I only found out I was having Ellis after he had passed away. Zola was the one who found it hardest to get her head around, it took a lot of reassuring that no one was ever going to replace her dad. I wouldn’t ever want that but my kids… sometimes I think they’re smarter than me.” She laughed, they were Derek’s kids, alright. “They want me to be happy, Ellis wants me to find my second Prince Charming but it’s not always going to be straightforward. For them or for me.”

“We think dad wants to date!” Liam suddenly blurted out.

His brother quickly jabbed him in the ribs, making him wince. “What? It’s true!”

“Oh,” Meredith was a little shocked. The past couple of months, she had thought there was something going on between them. Neither of them had outwardly mentioned it, of course, but she had honestly thought that there had been something there. Meredith quickly schooled her face into a neutral expression.

“Would that be okay with the two of you? Because I’m sure your dad wouldn’t want to do anything that would make you both uncomfortable.” Meredith couldn’t help it, but half of her mind was on the conversation and the other half was trying to figure out who the hell Cormac was considering dating.

The boys looked at each other. They’d had their own conversations about it when Cormac had been at work, or after one of his long conversations about Meredith. They hadn’t liked the idea at first, hated it if they were honest. But over time they’d realised that this is exactly what their dad needed and what their mom had wanted. Plus, they were pretty sure that if he started to dare someone then that should have less time to yell at them. They smiled; both having come to the same conclusion.

“I think after talking to you about it, we’d be pretty cool with him dating.”

[anir-lol]

Sebastian HCs when he was younger mostly cause I probably won't draw any of this lol

I'm just gonna be putting a warning here cause I'm gonna be talking about this stuff so

Death warning and Smoking warning

Alright first off his dad is dead

Died when Sebastian was like 3

How'd he die? Smoking

Already had fucked up lungs before, him smoking a bunch made it worse

He was stressed as hell when Sebastian was born, but still wanted to quit for him and Robin

He couldn't do it though...

You bet when she found out Sebastian smokes it worried her a shit ton

Sebastian started smoking when he was 18

Robin would go out of her way to look for the cigarette packs and throw them out

Really pissed off Sebastian since he was an adult and brought it all himself

Eventually after a few fights Robin stops throwing them out, but still sometimes tell him off when she sees it

Sebastian and his dad used to watch Sebastian's favorite show until 10pm

He even went out to buy a plush of his favorite character from the show

The plush was a bright green frog

Still keeps it close by even being older

It's the one thing Sebastian sees as something left of his dad, so he hugs it each time when he's sad over him (or sad in general)

Sebastian found him dead when he went out to go get his dad to watch his favorite show together

He was just lying there on the bed... With a cigarette on the floor

Sebastian didn't know any better, just thought he was sleeping

He just climbed and sat down on the bed and turned on the show, mad his dad was "sleeping"

Robin came home 3 hours later from hanging out with her friends to see Sebastian just sleeping on the bed next to his dad

She broke down reallllllly badly

Robin moved cause she couldn't handle being there with everything reminding her of her husband

Robin and Sebastian's dad worked on the house together when it was literally tearing down together, so she really couldn't be in the house

Even more that she was sleeping almost exactly where her husband died in the bed

Robin and Jodi knew each other in ZuZu city, so Sebastian and Sam basically grew up together

Robin got the idea of moving to Stardew Valley from Jodi

Both Robin and Jodi moved at the same time

Robin met Demetrius when she moved there and Sebastian already disliked him lol

Cause Sebastian didn't really understand the concept of death at the time, he kept thinking Demetrius was replacing his dad

Robin had to go and seriously talk to him about it, and for the longest it really affected him

When Sebastian was 4 Robin and Demetrius got married, and he was 5 they had Maru

When Maru came they had to make Sebastian's room into Maru's room, it made Sebastian really upset to start living in the basement

They also changed the living room to a scientist room for Demetrius, which upseted Sebastian even more

Sebastian and Maru actually got a long really well when they were younger

Whenever Demetrius started showing favoritism towards Maru and telling Sebastian a bunch of stuff he didn't like is when he started disliking both of them

Would listen to his mom a lot more than Demetrius when he was younger

Sebastian and Sam made friends with Abigail in the valley when he was 8, Sam was 9, and Abigail was 7

Pierre didn't want Abigail hanging out with them that young but fuck you Pierre she still did anyways 😩

So young and Lewis already hated them all lol

Sebastian has ginger hair just like Robin, and has light freckles too

Absolutely hates that summer shows his freckles more

Robin dyed her hair black once and Sebastian really wanted his hair dyed black too, so she let him get it dyed for him

Only seen black hair ever since lol

Whenever Sebastian got his motorcycle, the first place he went on it was his dad's grave

He learns a lot more of his dad from Robin mostly and rarely Jodi whenever she talk to Sebastian since it was such a young age for him when he died

Always wishes he got closer to his dad, even though he knew I'd hurt him more

Whenever he gets with the farmer, once they're really close he takes them to see his dad (if they wanted to)

He's really the only one to go out to buy flowers to put on his dad's grave

Sometimes Robin would ask him to go put some flowers for her that she brought

Whenever something he feels important happens in his life (whether being good of bad) he goes out to his dad's grave and talks to him about it

Always wonders how much different life would be with his dad still around

He one time saw and felt his dad's ghost hugging him and really freaked him out-

Especially cause he didn't even smoked anything

He tells this to the farmer once

The farmer tells him that they also see their grandfather in their dreams rating their farm and he's just like "wait is this shit normal????"

I don't do HCs stuff too btw, I just wanted to dump some of my Sebastian HC stuff lol and sorry if it's a bit dark too, I know the dad part is a bit messed up so uh-

[mollygetssherlockcoffee]

Fifteen Minutes

Pairing: Spencer x Fem!Reader

Summary: (Five Minutes, Part 2!) Y/N only has fifteen minutes until the timer runs out. 

Warning: Kidnapping, talks of death and stabbing

Words: 2,022

A/N: Here’s part two! I’m surprised at how many people wanted to be tagged in this, to be honest!

Part One HERE!   Part Three HERE!  Part Four HERE!  Part Five HERE!  Part Six HERE!

Master List HERE    Permanent Tag List HERE

It was cold when you woke up but the room was bright from the fluorescent bulb in the middle of the room. Unlike the first time you woke up, you felt neither dizzy nor sick. You slowly pushed yourself up into a sitting position, blinking your surroundings into focus.

While you were still in the basement, you were no longer in a cage. Whoever had taken you must have come in while you were passed out.

 With a groan, you push yourself to your feet, stumbling for a moment before you catch you footing. You slowly make your way around the basement, your eyes taking in everything. There walls and floors are a matching grey concrete. There’s a set of filing draws to the side of you and you reach over, grasping the handle and pull it. Its locked. A single mattress lays on the floor to the left you, a dirty pillow on top. A washer and dryer sit on either side of a small set of concrete steps.

 Steps. You push yourself over to the steps, scrambling up them and pushing at the doors. They don’t budge, locked shut tightly. You growl to yourself, huffing out a puff of air and turning to face the basement. You eyes catch sight of the wall directly opposite you, which had previously been behind your back, and gasp in shock.

 You slowly go back down the stairs and make your way towards the far wall. At the top of the wall is an LED message sign display with a blank screen. A set of four pictures line the wall under it. In each photo, the girl appears to be sleeping, the photo taken without their knowledge. They all have Y/H/C hair, just like you, in a similar style too. The man who had taken you, the unsub as you’d normally refer to him, has an obvious type.

 Under each photo is a piece of paper, different information contained on each.

 Photo one:

 Didn’t complete the first task. Stabbed. Deceased.

 Photo two:

 First task, complete. Key found. Refused to participate in second task. Stabbed. Deceased.

 Photo three:

 Didn’t complete the first task. Stabbed. Deceased.

 Photo four:

 First task, complete. Key found. Second task, complete, maze was solved. Failed task three. Stabbed. Deceased.

 You took a deep breath, fighting to not give a visible reaction. You didn’t know whether there was hidden cameras within the basement and you didn’t want to give off a reaction. The unsub was a sexual sadist, evidenced by the stabbing of his victims and the display of his crimes. He was aiming to strike fear into his victims.

 From the limited information provided, you gathered that the unsub had set up tasks for you. Task one appeared to be finding a key, while the second was to solve a maze. However, no information was given about the third task and you didn’t know whether there would be more tasks after the third.

 A beep sounded and you looked up. Words flashed on the LED message sign display.

 Find the key. You have 15 minutes.

 -

 After searching through the security cameras surrounding the road where Y/N had disappeared, and finding nothing, Garcia had turned to the missing persons and unsolved crimes database. She had looked for other women who looked like Y/N that could be missing or dead. She had found four women, each sharing a striking resemblance to Y/N.

 Spencer stared at the pictures in front of him. Each of the women in the photos looked like Y/N. The had the same eye colour, the hair colour and cut in the same style. While the heights of the women were different, though the difference was minute.

 The first woman, Lydia Webb, went missing four months ago and still had not be found. She had closed the shop she worked at before leaving for home but when she didn’t show up the next day, they had sent an employee to her house to check on her. When they got no answer upon knocking on the door, they had contacted the police.

 The second was Abigail Goodman, who had went missing three months ago. She had went missing after walking home alone after having dinner with her friends. Her body had been found two weeks after she went missing. Multiple stab wounds lined her body, a definite sign over overkill.

 Amy Radner was the third victim and had went missing two months ago. She hadn’t returned after leaving the house to go shopping. She was found a week later, her body covered in stab wounds.

 The woman in the final picture was of Rebecca Clarke, who had disappeared while walking home from the gym last month. When she had been found, her nails were worn down and her fingers covered in cuts, as if she had been clawing at something. As with the previous two victims, she had been stabbed multiple times.

 From the similarities of the women and the matching methods of death, it was agreed that the women had been killed by the same unsub, those this should have been identifiable to local police. Hotch has spoken to the local police department, his displeasure of them not having identified the pattern or called in the team for help clear. He was quick in taking over the case, now that a federal agent had been taken.

 From the information of the women, it was deduced that it was unlikely that the unsub knew Y/N was an FBI agent. None of the women held similar jobs, nor did they take the same route all the time. Abigail had visited a new restaurant the night she had disappeared, Amy had planned to go to a new store which was just opening, and Rebecca had missed her bus. It was unlikely that the unsub had been stalking the women, or Y/N.

 Having information of where the women were taken and the locations of where their bodies were found, Spencer worked on the geographical profile. It was difficult, however, as the locations spanned across a large section of the North East Virginia.

 Spencer sat back in his chair. All of these women, including Y/N, had gone missing without any witnesses. How could that happen, though? Someone must have seen something, anything, which could help them. People don’t just vanish, that only happened in movies.

 Spencer couldn’t help but think about what Y/N must be going through. She had to be scared, worried. While that thought was horrible, he much preferred it than to considering the fact that she could be dead already.

 No, Y/N was alive. First, the medical examiner had said that each woman had been held captive, alive, for at least twenty-four hours. Y/N had been missing for eighteen. Y/N still had at least six hours, and Spencer didn’t doubt that Y/N would be able to last longer.

 Secondly, if Y/N was dead, Spencer was sure he would be able to feel it. There would be a shift in the air, a large twist in his already knotted stomach. He would be able to feel it, he would just know.

 Still, he refused to entertain the idea of Y/N being dead. She couldn’t die. She was smart, kind, funny, patient. She would roll her eyes when he told one of his facts – not in a mean way, but in the ‘Oh, okay, smart ass’ playful way. She would stand beside him when meeting new people, like local officers, and wave rather than shake their hands in a bid to make Spencer’s physical touch eversion look less strange.

 Y/N was the best friend he could ask for, but Spencer would be lying if he said he didn’t want more. His crush had formed the moment she had walked into the bullpen. She had looked beautiful, her hair pulled back from her face and her Y/E/C eyes darting around, biting your lip, as she looked for Hotch’s office.

 It had taken him a while to speak to her. He wanted to talk to Y/N, he really did, but his words always seemed to freeze in his throat. Well, that was half true. He could speak to her about cases but anything outside of work, he couldn’t get the words out. His brain seemed to shut off, the words failing to form in his mind.

 However, on the flight home from a case he had caught a glimpse of Y/N’s phone screen as she watched the trailer for a new Marvel movie. That had seemed to spark something in his mind and he was able to speak to her.

 Since then, speaking to Y/N had been easier and their friendship had grown. They had been friends for nearly four years now. They had their own inside jokes, they could have silent conversations with each other just by send the other person a look. They also worked in unison, rarely needing to speak to split tasks in half, or work around each other.

 Though Spencer knew Y/N was alive for now, he worried for her. He didn’t want anything to happen to her. He wanted to find her, to bring her home. He wanted to look after her, make sure she was alright. He wanted to the opportunity to tell her how he feels.

 Spencer just hoped that they would find Y/N soon.

 -

 You had searched everywhere. The mattress had been flipped; the pillow thrown across the room. You had pulled the compartments of the washer and dryer apart, looking for the stupid key. You had ripped the pictures and paper from the walls, thinking that the key might have been stuck on the wall. You had also climbed onto the filing cabinet, standing on your tiptoes to see if the key was hidden atop the LED sign but there was nothing.

 The only place you hadn’t checked was the filing cabinet itself, but it was locked. You crouched in front of the cabinet, looking at the lock. You weren’t strong enough to pull it open but there had to be another way. You bit your lip, your hand reaching up to scratch your head as you looked around the room in thought.

 Your fingers come into contact with something hard in your hair and your eyes widen in realisation. You quickly pull out the bobby pins, thankful for the early fly-away hairs which needed to be pinned back from your face. You were even more thankful for Spencer.

 When you had forgotten the key to your desk a few weeks back, Spencer had been quick to show you how to pick the lock using bobby pins. At the time, you had thought that you wouldn’t need the skill again but now you were thankful for him insisting you learn it.

 You looked at the clock.

 Seven minutes, forty-two seconds.

 You bent the bobby pins, quickly slotting the first one into the lock. The second bobby pin, which was now mostly flattened, was inserted in above the first. You jingled the bobby pin, searching for the small pins of the lock which you would need to push up.

 You gritted your teeth, closing your eyes to concentrate. You could feel your heart pumping ferociously in your chest and your breath came faster. It felt like it took forever, to the point where you were sure the timer would run out before you made it but then you feel the clicks.

 The draw gives and begins to open. You look at the clock again.

 Two minutes, fifty-seven seconds.

 You pull the first draw open. Its empty.

 You pull the second draw open and inside is a piece of paper. You pick it up and turn it over, reading the words ‘Not in this one, either’.  You growl in annoyance, throwing the paper behind you as you reach for the final draw. The draw is empty.

 All the draws in the cabinet are empty and you look back up at the clock.

 Two minutes.

 You have two minutes to complete the task before you die, and you can’t find the key… What were you going to do?

Permanent Tag List: @sskhair​ @sammypotato67​ @spencerreids-wife​ @yoongi-holland​

Five Minutes Tag List: @you-got-me-starry-eyed​ @yourlocalnorah​ @mandapanda8 @gia-kerks​ @hailmaryyramliah​ @reidsmyhusband-emilysmymistress @mailikestruecrimetoomuch​ @fandomgirl17​ @eldahae​

If you want to be removed, please contact me! If you want to be added, please visit my Tag List post or comment!

[ledbiantastic]

Okay, it's time for my Harrow The Ninth read through post. Spoilers, obviously. Thanks to @shakespearerants, @irascibubble, and @mayasaura for encouraging me to keep going. Enjoy!

I am on page 33 of Harrow the Ninth and I am making a prediction. I initially thought the Body referred to the dead girl in the locked tomb, but now I think it's Gideon. We'll see if I'm right.

Page 44 says it is the dead girl in the tomb, but I'm not convinced it isn't also Gideon

Gideon must be important to have to be erased from Harrow's mind like that, right?

Did Ortus the First kill/try to kill Gideon's mom? The timeline adds up, they said he messed something up nineteen years ago, Gideon was 18 in the last book and time has passed

In the weird retconned memories, after every death, or during, someone says "is this how it happens" which makes me think it's, like, Harrow's brain asking that

Who are those notes from and to? What's up with that?

I love seeing Harrow spend time with Magnus and Abigail. I liked them

If Harrow is haunted, but this is not the real version of the past, is her mind creating the ghost? Is it Gideon? I don't think Gideon would write notes like that though...

Page 291 is Ortus talking to her like she's Gideon's mother? IS HE ASKING WHY SHE BROUGHT ALONG THE BABY?

Is Ortus' cavalier more active or something? Like he doesn't remember because she takes control?

Page 315 "he had seen me" who is he and who is me? Who is narrating this to Harrowhark? Is. It. Gideon? (Later I decide it's Palamedes seeing the Sleeper, who is also narrating and is possibly Gideon. We'll see if that's right.)

Is the poster on page 318 Gideon? Is It? IS IT? But Gideon's hair didn't go down to her shoulders. Is it her mom?

Are Camilla and Coronabeth on the side of the rebellion? BOE? Is old Harrow? I KNEW IT! But I'm sad they're on different sides.

Is Ianthe the spy? Is that how she knew Coronabeth was alive?

Does the Sleeper represent the part of Harrow and/or her brain that erased her memories and it's cleaning up the debris in her psyche? OR IS IT GIDEON? AKA the DORMANT part of Harrow-as-Lyctor? When the Sleeper is unmasked, will we see Harrow or Gideon?

Did Gideon's mother start the rebellion or something? Is that why they had a poster of her? Was she Eden?

So, Canaan house was on earth then?

Did Harrow (old Harrow) tamper with her own temporal lobe? Did Mercymorn? Ianthe?

Whose idea was it for Ortus to kill her then? John? Augustine? Mercymorn? Someone else?

Did Harrow break into the locked tomb? I want to believe she did, because I support her. But if not, who is the Body?

Shit, I can't remember what color Gideon's eyes were. Page 363 when Harrow's eyes are two different colors, black and gold

Ianthe wants to marry Harrow? Weird. I don't ship it. But I'm kind of stuck on Gideon and if I wasn't, maybe.

See a man about a queen? What does it mean? What is Ianthe doing? Also love that she cursed Harrow's hair to grow extra, just to be petty.

I'm so confused by chapter 40. What the hell is going on? Why is Harrow trying to be a cavalier? The fuck? Role swapped false memory? What is even happening?

Is Harrowhark's brain just, like, randomly spit-balling while she's dying or something? Love that Abigail and Magnus seem to be aware that it's not real.

OH OH OH THAT WAS GIDEON! SERVING THE COFFEE AND MAKING HARROW BLUSH IN THE THIRD(?) FALSE MEMORY OR DREAM OR WHATEVER! I love that Abigail is NOT having this, like, no I'm not gonna watch your romance novel version unfold.

I think I've noticed that the ones who have speaking roles the weird memories are the ones who died in the last book.

Are they all taking active part in these false scenarios? All the dead from Canaan house?

Oh my god oh my god here it is she remembers and she's so sad!

So she erased Gideon to save her soul. Nope nope nope nope nope I can't. I can't deal with these feelings. Y.Y

Who the fuck is the angry spirit?!?!

Who fucking stabbed her?

IS GIDEON DRIVING HARROW'S FUCKING BODY AROUND DURING A FIGHT? HELL YES! AND THAT MEANS I WAS RIGHT THAT SHE'S NARRATING!

OH AND I PREDICT THE GHOST IS CYTHERIA!

I'm still thinking about what Harrow did. It's so sweet and so sad and she's so lonely and she didn't even know how lonely she was.

Also I'm already excited to reread this series.

Oh yeah, this is GIDEON in here, swearing up a storm and trying to use a sword.

Okay, first I'm getting emotional just from heading Gideon's voice, then I'm emotional about what it was like for her to be in Harrow's body/mind, then I'm emotional about all the things she wanted to say but didn't have time, AND THEN I'M EMOTIONAL when Gideon says why she thinks Harrow did it and I'm like baby nooooooo it was because she loved you, not because she didn't want to rely on you! Honey, baby, no!

"Harrowhark, I gave you my whole life and you didn't even want it." HARROWHARK, I GAVE YOU MY WHOLE LIFE AND YOU DIDN'T EVEN WANT IT. 💔💔💔😟😟😟😭😭😭 Excuse me while my heart breaks.

Oh, also a bigger issue in this book is the whole concept of the afterlife? And it's messed up because of the emperor? I don't know why I wasn't prepared for that but I wasn't.

Ortus holding Harrow and pointing out that she and Gideon were neglected children is making my therapist soul ascend.

I'm such an idiot. His name wasn't Ortus, it was Gideon. He did kill Gideon's mother, that's why she shouted his name. Or they were in love? One or the other... Or both?

Harrow did a find and replace in her brain and it had unexpected consequences.

I've been leaning more and more towards the Sleeper and ghost being Cytheria.

Oh my sweet sword lesbian himbo, how I've missed you. "The sword I had to hold overhead in one hand as I used the other to keep everything inside you; stuff was coming out, Harrow, I don't know precisely what stuff because I'm not a goddamn necromancer."

Gideon is OCCUPYING HARROW'S BODY during a deadly invasion and is like, 'I'm gonna shut my eyes to reach under the shirt and get rid of encumbrances. I tried not to touch you, so don't get mad.' I feel like Harrow would be the first one to say 'do whatever you have to do to stay alive, you imbecile!'

So Mercymorn stabbed Harrow... So the heralds would eat her as a way to buy time? Was that the plan? Gideon calling her "my necromancer" made my heart do a thing.

I want to understand what she's saying about Gideon's mother. Was Gideon a science experiment? Like Kipo?

Where. THE FUCK did Cytheria get the gun?

Dulcie is *horny for revenge* Abigail is a BAMF and my new (and final?) prediction is that the Sleeper is Gideon's mom.

Gideon and Ianthe is a fun dynamic. I love how protective Gideon is, that she's mad at Ianthe for hurting Harrow's heart.

Gideon must have her mother's eyes to be freaking all the lyctors the fuck out.

"I wanted you to use me... I wanted you to live and not die... Harrow. I already gave my flesh to you, and I already gave you my end. I gave you my sword. I gave you myself. I did it while knowing I'd do it all again, without hesitation, because all I ever wanted you to do was eat me." Why am I crying? 😭😭😭😭😭 Why is this the most romantic thing when it's also full of insults and curses and is followed by a your mom joke? What a Gideon thing to do, be so romantic and gross and sassy all at once. I love her, I want to be her. Gideon forever.

Love that Ianthe also thinks Harrow got rid of Gideon because she didn't want her. /s I'm starting to worry that it's silly for me to hold onto the 'because she can't live without Gideon' explanation.'

"But Nonagesimus, you hating me always meant more than anyone else in this hot and stupid universe loving me. At least I'd had your full attention." That's why indifference is the opposite of love, hate is still passionate attention. But this also makes me feel so bad for Gideon because she deserves to be loved, dammit!

Okay, "gall on gall" is pretty hilarious. Good job Ianthe.

Love that the ghost of Matthias Nonius speaks in meter because he's been so deified by the Ninth house, and he's confused by it. It's like people in a musical being aware they're in a musical, like, why am I singing?

Ortus' poem was important after all!

Is it the sword? Does Harrow have to destroy Gideon's sword? Because that would break my heart a little.

"It bewildered her, back at Canaan House, how the whole of her always seemed to come back to Gideon. For one brief and beautiful space of time, she has welcomed it: that microcosm of eternity between forgiveness and the slow uncomprehending agony of the fall. Gideon rolling up her shirt sleeves. Gideon dappled in shadow, breaking promises. One idiot with a sword and an asymmetrical smile had proved to be Harrow's end." I just... This is so beautifully written. And describing Gideon as one idiot with a sword is so perfect and right and I just... 🖤🖤🖤😭😭😭

No no no I hate this either/or bullshit! I know I'm a sappy optimist, but I want both of them to survive, damnit! I want Harrow to be able to go back to her body without losing Gideon's soul. I want Gideon to keep existing.

What does Dulcinea know?!?!

Commander? That's Gideon's mom, right? Awake Remembrance of These Valiant Dead Kia Hua Ko Te Pai Snap Back to Reality Oops There Goes Gravity

What does that all mean? Are those Eminem lyrics? What other language is in there?

WHAT'S ALL COME OUT?

I knew she was in the sword.

Oh my god, if you need John to get in the tomb, and she was trying to get in the tomb and had something, a tool... Samples... She was armed with the baby... Is Gideon's father John? Is Gideon the fucking child of God?

She named the baby Bomb... This whole series could have been Bomb the Ninth... Bomb Nav...

Yep yep called it, child of God. The first time they put that plan in action was to get sperm to make Gideon. The second time was so Harrow could kill the first Gideon.

A dad joke?! A DAD JOKE?!

Gideon and Harrow were so cruel to each other as kids. It just makes me so sad.

Was Harrow able to get into the tomb because she made Gideon bleed?

So is Alecto John's cavalier? Annabel and Alecto... Are the same person? I'm so confused. She's the body in the locked tomb? But how is that related to her eyes being in his genes?

Wait, the eyes switched? I continue to be confused. Did he do the lyctor thing but also put a part of both him and his cavalier into the cavalier's body? But she was never human? What's going on? Why do they think she never had genes?

Oh cool, Mercy killed God and now everyone's gonna die... ... ... Ooooor not.

I love that beating up Harrow is Gideon's job AND saving Harrow is Gideon's job. Very cute.

Sooooo Gideon the OG and Pyrrha both fucked Gideon's mom... With the same body...

Gideon, such a romantic, wishing she had Harrow's name on her lips as she died. "I mean, yeah, I was thinking about you too; if I could've turned that off I would've turned it off years ago" HAHAHAHAHA You can't stop thinking about Harrow even if you want to! God, what a sweet himbo.

"Yes, well, jail for mother" says Gideon... Is she referencing Miette? Jail for mother for one thousand years!

Okay, so we have definitely confirmed that the Body is Alecto/Annabel/God's cavalier.

What did Dulcinea tell her? That Gideon is moving her body around? Doesn't she know that? Shouldn't that not be a surprise?

Okay, so, wait, what happened to Harrowhark?

ARRRRRGH I'm not smart enough for this book! Or I'm not visual enough! I know I should recognize the description of bobbed hair and "lambent" eyes but I have no idea who it is and also WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO GIDEON AND HARROWHARK?! UGH NOW I HAVE TO WAIT FOR THE NEXT BOOK AND I'M GONNA BE SO IMPATIENT AND CONFUSED!

Well that was fun to reread. Impressed I got some things right, but mostly I was very wrong.