#i’m a romantic. who does not want romance for herself

[moeitsu]

The Tie Which Linked My Soul To Thee

Ch 22 - Had But Our Loving Prospered Well

Summary: As Dutch readies the gang for their next big score, Arthur is sent to Saint Denis to settle unfinished business, only to face a ghost from his past. Meanwhile, Kate's come down with an illness, but a vivid dream sparks a newfound resolve to secure her and Arthur's future—no matter the cost.

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AN: About 10k words. I really enjoyed how this one turned out. I think it does a good job at setting up what's coming next while also keeping you on your toes. Guess you'll have to read and see ;)

And Happy Thanksgiving to all those who celebrate! I am so thankful for all my readers <3

Tag List: @photo1030 @ariacherie @thatweirdcatlady @ultraporcelainpig @marygillisapologist @eternalsams @lunawolfclaw  @yallgotkik

**please let me know if you would like to be tagged in future chapters!

Story Tags: Canon Divergence, Mutual Pining, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, Eventual Romance, Emotional Sex, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Touch-Starved, Sexual Tension, Friends to Lovers, Trauma, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Violence, Survivor Guilt, Caretaking, Period-Typical Racism, Anxiety, Emotional Constipation, Self-Doubt, Men Crying, Sweet/Hot, Romantic Angst, Romantic Fluff

Been a while since I put pen to paper. Feels like there ain’t enough time in the day anymore, though Lord knows I’ve been wasting plenty of it trying to keep my head above water. We’ve moved again. Ran from the law again. Stirred up more trouble. Same damn story, just a different setting. This time it’s Saint Denis—a place I heard was one of the seven wonders of the world. Well, if this is what they call a wonder, I reckon I’d be just fine never seeing the other six. It’s crowded, loud, and full of people who’d stab you in the back soon as they look at you. One of those people bein’ Angelo Bronte. Slimy, conniving bastard who’s got this whole city dancing to his tune.

He’s the same one who took Jack from us, but somehow, he’s also got us rubbing elbows with the mayor at some swanky garden party. Don’t ask me how that makes sense. Dutch’s idea, of course. Or maybe Hosea’s, hell if I know anymore. What I do know is he insisted Kate come along, dressed us all up like damn peacocks. I felt ridiculous, but then I looked at her. My Kate. She took my breath clean away. Lord help me, there’s nothing in this life I wouldn’t do for that woman.

The party itself? A circus. Drunks, phonies, and clowns as far as the eye could see. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have some fun. Hell, I think Kate might’ve even enjoyed herself. It’s a memory I’ll carry with me, no matter how all this shakes out.

Still, this place ain’t sittin’ right with me. Dutch and Hosea keep goin’ on about opportunities, but I don’t see much besides folks with too much money and too little care for anything else. I better keep my head down while I can.

I introduced myself to a couple of Indians, father and son. The son is so angry and the father is; I don’t know exactly what. Something both impressive and frightening. And kind too. He’s a great man being defeated by powerful, awful forces. I don’t know why, but I agreed to help them. Seems they, like us, have a problem with that ape Leviticus Cornwall. 

And then there's Dutch, always in the middle of it all. He’s pushin’ Kate into things I’m not sure she should be a part of. Keeps talkin’ about loyalty, like I ain’t proven mine a thousand times over. Says Kate could help with this new scheme coming up—some high-stakes poker game on a damn yacht in the harbor. Wants to dress her up like some famous singer to get us in. The idea makes my skin crawl. She’s too good for this kind of life, and Dutch knows it.

I’ve been trying to keep her close, tellin’ her to stick to camp, help with the girls. But she ain’t the type to sit still. She’s got this fire in her, this restless spirit that makes her want to be out there with me, shoulderin’ the same burdens. And I love her for it, but it scares the hell outta me too. This gang is a powder keg, and when it blows, she’s gonna get caught in the blast.

John said something the other day that stuck with me—never thought I’d be takin’ advice from him, yet here we are. He told me I gotta start thinking about what happens after all this. If there’s even gonna be an "after." I don’t know what that looks like, but I know Kate deserves better than this life. Problem is, I ain’t sure I can give it to her. Not yet. Not while there’s still so much to fix, so much to make right.

I guess we’ll see what the day brings. 

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Arthur closed his journal with a soft thunk, the familiar leather creaking as he slid it back into his satchel. Stretching, he winced as his muscles protested—stiff from too many sleepless nights and too many hours in the saddle. Dawn was just beginning to break, but Arthur had been awake long before the first hints of sunlight painted the horizon. Not that it mattered much. These days, the weeks were a blur, the days bleeding into each other with each task, each job, and every damn mission Dutch insisted on. No end in sight, just more running, more scheming.

He sat on an old, weather-worn chair perched at the front of Shady Belle, the crumbling manor they called home. Its once-grand façade was faded and cracked, much like the gang itself—held together by little more than stubbornness and dwindling hope. The morning fog clung low to the ground, curling around the gnarled tree roots and the broken fence posts, giving the place an eerie stillness.

It was mid-September now—Arthur only remembered because Sean’s birthday had passed a few days back. Some of the gang had stayed up late, passing a bottle around the campfire, trading stories about the fiery Irishman. Arthur had stayed longer than most, his heart heavy with memories of laughter now silenced by a bullet.

The chill of fall was creeping in, carried by the night and lingering in the shadows, though the sun would soon burn it away. Arthur inhaled deeply, the crisp air filling his lungs, chasing away the stale dampness of the manor. For a fleeting moment, it felt good—clean. He let himself savor it, knowing the day ahead would likely choke him with its demands.

Dutch had a plan, as always. This time, a high-stakes card game aboard a river boat in the Saint Denis harbor. Every detail had to be perfect. No mistakes. No run-ins with the law. Not this time. That meant a shopping trip to the city with Trelawny, of all people, to gather supplies and scout the area. Dutch wanted every angle covered, every loose end tied tight.

And then there was Kate. Dutch had insisted she play a role in the job, her part pivotal to getting them through the door. Her cover? A famous Italian singer, the kind who’d catch the eye of the city's most elite. Arthur had protested—loudly. But Dutch was unyielding, Hosea backing him up with reassurances that it’d be fine, just like the mayor’s party. Arthur didn’t care much for that; polished shoes, fake smiles, and too many lies—but Kate had taken it all in stride, and she was confident she could do it again.

Arthur wasn’t so sure. He didn’t like the idea of her standing in the middle of it all, surrounded by strangers who wouldn’t think twice about exploiting her if things went wrong. But she was stubborn, determined to help the gang any way she could. Arthur had no choice but to pray he could change her mind in the next two days. If he couldn’t, he’d be right there beside her. No way in hell would he let her face it alone.

Lately, though, his worries stretched far beyond jobs and plans. He’d noticed the signs—Kate sleeping more, eating less, missing chores because of her headaches. The girls had told him as much, and Arthur knew the cause. Shady Belle was no place for someone like her. Sure, it had walls and a roof, but they were cracked and rotting, letting the rain and wind slip through. Mold crept up the corners, and the damp chill seeped into your bones at night. Arthur did what he could—pulling her close when the nights grew too cold, letting his body heat shield her from the worst of it. But it wasn’t enough. It ate at him, watching her put on a brave face, pretending she wasn’t struggling just to keep his worry at bay.

But he always worried. Now, with Dutch’s plan looming and Kate’s involvement hanging in the balance, the concern gnawed at him, heavy and relentless, like a stone pressing against his chest. He sighed, shifting his weight in the creaky old chair, debating whether to head back inside and kiss his woman goodbye before the day’s chaos swept him away.

Before he could move, the door creaked open, and Mary-Beth stepped out onto the porch. The young woman was wrapped in a heavy wool coat, her night chemise peeking out from underneath, and she held a steaming cup of coffee in one hand and a white envelope pinched between her fingers. Her other hand clutched her coat tightly against the morning chill.

“Mornin’, Arthur,” she greeted softly, her voice warm and familiar. “Figured I might find you out here.”

Arthur smiled, tipping his head in acknowledgment. “A fine mornin’ it is, Miss Mary-Beth.”

She handed him the coffee, and he accepted it with a grateful nod. The warmth seeped through his fingers, chasing away the lingering chill. If there was one thing about running all these damn jobs, it was the way the girls showed their appreciation in small but meaningful ways. It reminded Arthur why he kept going—why he fought so hard. Not just for himself, but for them, too.

Mary-Beth lingered as Arthur took a tentative sip of the bitter black coffee. Then, almost hesitantly, she extended the envelope toward him. “Letter came for you,” she said, her tone light but with a hint of something else—curiosity, maybe. “I think it’s from that woman.” The last two words carried a subtle edge.

Arthur chortled, raising an eyebrow as he took the envelope. “That woman, huh? You mean Mary Gillis?” He turned the letter over in his hands, the elegant script on the front unmistakable.

Mary-Beth pursed her lips. “Gillis? Thought you said she was married to some Linton fellow?”

Arthur sighed, suddenly feeling like he’d been cornered. “She um— well she was. Barry Linton. But he passed not too long ago.” His fingers found the edge of the envelope, ripping it open as he spoke.

Mary-Beth folded her arms, her gaze sharpening with interest. “Then tell me, Mr. Morgan, what’s this widow doing still writin’ to you?”

He huffed, shaking his head. “I don’t know, darlin’. That’s what I’m fixin’ to find out.” He unfolded the letter, but he could feel her eyes lingering.

“You best get along before Miss Grimshaw catches wind you’re up,” he added pointedly, trying to nudge her away without sounding outright rude.

Mary-Beth narrowed her eyes at him, clearly unimpressed by his attempt to dismiss her, but after a moment, she relented, turning back toward the door. “Alright, fine. But I’ll be keepin’ my eye on you. Don’t do anything stupid.”

He chuckled under his breath as she disappeared into the manor, shaking his head at her audacity. Then, finally, he let his gaze fall to the letter in his hand, the words waiting for him like the clouds on the horizon:

My dear Arthur,

I hope this letter finds you well. I wanted to thank you for your help with Jamie. He and Daddy are still arguing, but I understand that Jamie is thinking of going back to college. Whatever happens, I believe you saved his life, and we are all truly grateful.

Oh, Arthur. I have made such a mess of my life, time and again. Why can I not change and be the woman I want to be? Why couldn’t you change and be a man and put down all those fantasies that cloud your judgment? Life is very confusing, and I see now that I am not very good at it.

I am afraid we have got ourselves in another mess. It’s not my fault, but I need your help. I’m staying at the Hotel Grand in Saint Denis. Oh, Arthur. I know it is wrong of me to ask you, but I have nobody else, and for what we had together, I beg of you, even though I am ashamed to do so.

Yours,Mary

Arthur sighed heavily, folding the letter with a deliberate care that belied the storm brewing inside him. He slid it into his satchel, the weight of it feeling heavier than any of the supplies or ammunition he carried. His jaw tightened as his gaze drifted out over the misty swamps, the sluggish waters reflecting a pale, muted sunrise. Mary Gillis. Always finding a way to haunt him, always pulling at the loose threads of a life he’d tried to leave behind.

The first time she’d called for his help, he’d nearly ignored her altogether. He’d wrestled with the question, torn between letting old flames die and doing what he thought might be the decent thing. It was Kate who’d convinced him in the end, her soft-spoken wisdom guiding him to answer the plea. "Helping others isn’t a weakness," she’d said, resting her hand on his, heart full of understanding. And so he’d gone. He’d helped Mary with her brother, with her troubles, and with it, he thought he’d finally put the past to rest.

But that was months ago. Months filled with battles, with losses, with a love that had rooted itself firmly in his chest and refused to let go. His heart belonged to Kate now, the woman who lay sleeping just upstairs, wrapped in the meager warmth of their shared cot. Whatever dreams Mary might still cling to, whatever fantasy she still entertained of what they once were, Arthur knew better. She’d signed the letter “yours,” but the truth was she had never truly been his.

They’d been just a couple of lovesick kids, foolish and reckless, trying to carve out a life in a world that seemed determined to keep them apart. Her father had despised him, calling him poor, unworthy, a scoundrel who’d ruin her. Maybe the old bastard had been right, in his own way. Mary, for her part, had always wanted him to change—begged him to leave his ways behind, to live a cleaner, safer life that had no place for a man like him.

He’d tried, God knows he’d tried, but in the end, it wasn’t enough. Her rejection of his proposal had shattered whatever hope they’d built together, and they’d gone their separate ways, two hearts too stubborn to meet in the middle. At the time, Arthur had been furious, heartbroken. But with the years came clarity. She’d done the right thing by walking away, as much as it had gutted him. He’d have ruined her, and she’d have resented him for it.

Now, though, her reaching out again felt like opening an old wound that had barely scarred over. She must’ve been desperate to dredge up the past and call on him once more. Still, Arthur had made her a promise all those years ago—a promise to be there if she ever truly needed him. And damn it all, he’d meant it. But that didn’t make him regret those words any less now.

He sighed again, the sound heavy in the stillness, and turned back toward the house. His boots creaked softly on the steps as he ascended to the bedroom he shared with Kate. The air inside was quieter than the swamp outside, a hushed calm broken only by the occasional murmur of the gang stirring below.

Kate lay curled beneath their blanket, her hair splayed across the pillow in a tangled mess that caught the pale morning light. The sight of her tugged at something deep inside him—a mix of love and guilt that settled in his chest. She looked so peaceful, her face relaxed in sleep, a stark contrast to the restless energy she carried during the waking hours.

Arthur knelt beside the bed, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. He leaned in close, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. Her skin felt warm against his lips. She stirred slightly, mumbling something incoherent before settling again.

“Be back soon,” he whispered, his voice low and smooth.

For a moment, he lingered there, his hand resting on her shoulder as though drawing strength from the simple touch. Then, with a reluctant sigh, he straightened and left the room, closing the door softly behind him. Whatever the day held, he’d face it. But as he made his way back down to the waiting world, he knew his thoughts would stay rooted here, with her. 

Always with her.

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Kate was lost in the throes of a feverish dream, her mind teetering on the edge of consciousness. Somewhere in the haze, she felt Arthur's lips brush against her temple—a fleeting touch that tethered her briefly to the safety of Shady Belle. But like water slipping through her fingers, she drifted away again, into a world both foreign and familiar.

She was standing in the bayou, its dark, twisting mangrove trees reaching like skeletal fingers toward a starless sky. Their roots dive far below the depths, peeking out in gnarled braids. There was no moon, yet the scene was bathed in an eerie glow, as if the shadows themselves emitted a pale, unnatural light. The air was thick and heavy, like the fever clinging to her skin, and she felt the weight of unseen eyes watching from just beyond the edges of her vision. Every time she turned, they vanished, retreating deeper into their dark spaces.

The cold water lapped at her thighs, the chill seeping through her soaked nightdress as it billowed around her legs like dissolving smoke. Shady Belle was nowhere to be seen, and she felt untethered, as though the world itself had abandoned her. She wanted to shout, to call Arthur’s name. But her mouth and tongue betrayed her, remaining silent in the oppressive quiet. Her mind grappled for meaning, but the logic of dreams offered no answers, only the inexorable thrill of what came next.

In a blink, the scene shifted, and she stood before an ancient, tortured looking willow tree. Its massive branches drooping low, their weight seeming to bow toward the water as if in devotion—or coercion. Devoid of color and leaves, it looked barren yet beckoning. The tree loomed impossibly large, its roots poking up through the earth as if it was trying to pry itself from the ground. They spread wide and deep, cradling something small and swaddled in a yellow fabric.

Kate’s body moved without her permission, her feet splashed forward sinking into the muck with every step, her hand outstretched toward the bundle. It pulsed faintly, as though alive, the fabric inexplicably dry and pristine despite the muddy water lapping at its edges. She knelt, her fingers trembling as they brushed the delicate cloth.

The earth beneath her began to quiver, a slow, rhythmic tremor that she realized was a heartbeat. It echoed in her chest, though strangely out of sync with her own, as if it belonged to something other. The sound grew louder, resonating in her bones, drowning out the hum of the bayou. It was steady and strong unlike her own, which began to falter under the pressure of uncertainty. 

This heartbeat was mighty.

With a deep breath, she peeled back the fabric. Expecting some fragile, living thing, she froze when all that lay within was a seed. Small, unassuming, nestled within the soft blanket—a peach pit.

A strange disquiet settled over her. What’s this doing here? she wondered, turning it over in her hand. She couldn’t explain why, but her mind immediately thought of Arthur. Before she could rise, a flash of light caught her eye. Looking up, her breath hitched.

Sunken into the tree’s ancient trunk was a mirror, its frame gnarled and alive, twisting like the roots that encased it. But the reflection that met her gaze wasn’t her own—or at least, not as she knew herself.

The woman in the mirror was her, but different. Healthier, fuller. Her hair was smooth and pinned in an elegant style, and she wore a fine dress—proper and clean, with no trace of the rough life Kate knew so well. But her expression was strained, her face marked by some deep, unspoken sorrow.

In her arms, the reflection cradled the same yellow bundle Kate had just unwrapped. The fabric was clean and vibrant, glowing softly as though untouched by the bayou's darkness. Kate looked on, and the image began to fade, its yellow hue leaching into dullness before her eyes.

"No," she whispered, a surge of desperation clawing at her chest. The mirror seemed to flicker, the image trembling as if on the verge of breaking apart. She dropped the seed into the water, her hands reaching out toward the reflection, pleading with it. Tears blurred her vision as her knees sank into the mud.

She clawed at the bark of the tree, her nails scraping against the wood as the mirror began to dissolve into the surrounding fog. The woman in the reflection lingered for just a moment longer, her pained eyes softened, and she smiled at Kate, before vanishing entirely.

As the last wisp of light faded, Kate’s gaze dropped. There, floating in the water before her, was the peach pit. It was glowing now, faintly golden, radiating outward as it nestled into her lap. Reaching down with cupped hands she felt its warmth, pulsing with the steady beat of her heart. Harmonizing, as if they were one.

A soft whisper reached her ears, though no voice could be seen or placed. The words were indistinct, like a lullaby carried on a distant breeze. Yet they filled her with an overwhelming peace, soothing the ache that had gripped her chest. Kate clung to the warmth, holding the seed close to her chest. 

The water began to rise, enveloping her body. But she held onto the tiny pit, clinging to the hope it offered her. Shielding it from the darkness as it swallowed them both. 

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The rhythmic clatter of Belle’s hooves against the cobblestone echoed through the bustling streets of Saint Denis, a steady cadence that drowned out the city’s chaos. The sharp clang of the trolley on its tracks, the overlapping shouts of merchants and passersby, even the piercing cry of a seagull overhead—all of it faded into the background. Arthur’s mind, however, was far from quiet. His thoughts churned, replaying the morning’s work, scanning for anything they might have missed. Anything that could tip their carefully planned mission into disaster.

Arthur and Trelawney had spent the better part of the day digging into every detail of the high-stakes card tournament scheduled aboard the Grand Korrigan the following evening. Trelawney and Strauss were confident they could fix the game in Arthur’s favor, but there was still much to learn. Who were the players? What were the stakes? And how could they infiltrate the riverboat without raising suspicion?

Trelawney, ever the charmer, had already secured the proper attire and spent hours mingling in the city’s seedier poker dens, listening to whispers and picking up useful scraps of information. Meanwhile, Arthur had taken to scouting the boat itself. He’d memorized its layout, noted its docking schedule, and kept a sharp eye on the captain and crew as they moved about their business. Every detail mattered, and Arthur was determined not to leave any stone unturned.

Lost in thought, Arthur rode back toward the heart of town to meet Trelawney at their arranged rendezvous. The weight of the mission sat heavy on his shoulders, his focus narrowing in on the steps ahead. So much so, he almost didn’t hear the voice calling out to him.

“Arthur!”

The shout was sudden, cutting through the din. Feminine, familiar.

He pulled Belle to a halt, glancing around until his eyes landed on a balcony just above street level. There she was—Mary Gillis, leaning eagerly against the railing, her face lit with a mixture of relief and excitement.

“Oh, Arthur, you came!” she called, waving as though the years between them had never passed.

Arthur stiffened in the saddle, his hand tightening slightly on Belle’s reins. He’d forgotten about her letter, about her request for help. Hell, he’d barely had time to think it over, let alone discuss it with Kate. The mission had consumed his every waking moment, and he’d figured he’d have a few days to sort it out—if he even decided to go at all. But now, fate had a way of forcing his hand.

He sighed deeply, the sound barely audible over the city’s noise. “Yeah, I, uh—I came,” he called back, the words tasting like regret the moment they left his mouth.

The smile on Mary’s face faltered slightly as she saw the frustration etched into Arthur’s expression. Her enthusiasm met the weight of his weariness, a stark contrast to the nostalgic hope that had brought her to this moment. She leaned on the hotel railing, her eyes fixed on him as though they could will away the years and pain between them.

"Wait right there, I’m coming straight down!" she called, disappearing into the building before Arthur could even open his mouth to protest.

He dismounted Belle with a heavy sigh, hitching her to the post outside. The doors of the Hotel Grand swung open moments later, and Mary rushed out, her steps hurried, her face alight with nervous energy.

"Arthur," she said again, softer this time, her tone steeped in wistfulness.

Arthur shifted uncomfortably, his jaw tightening. "What is it you need this time, Mary?" His voice was steady but edged, cutting straight to the point. He didn’t want to linger, didn’t want to open doors he’d shut long ago.

Her expression faltered. "I can’t believe you came," she said, ignoring his question. Her voice carried a strange mix of gratitude and regret. "After everything…"

Arthur’s patience was thinning. He looked away, his gaze following a passing wagon down the street. "Sure, seems whenever you call, I come," he muttered, his tone clipped. "Now just tell me what’s goin’ on. I don’t have all day."

Mary took a hesitant step closer, clasping her hands in front of her. "It’s my daddy," she began.

Arthur let out a sharp, humorless laugh, shaking his head. "Your father? Christ, Mary, I must be an even bigger fool than I thought."

"Please, Arthur," she pleaded, her voice trembling. "I know my daddy was always hard on you, but he was just trying to protect me. Can’t you see that? He wanted better for me than—"

"Better than me," Arthur interrupted, his tone sharp, eyes narrowing. "That’s what you’re sayin’, ain’t it? Your father was never kind to me. He thought I was trash. Made damn sure I knew it, too."

Mary flinched but pressed on. "Your choices—Arthur, they—"

"What choice did I have!" he barked, rising with an anger that had been simmering for years. "You knew who I was, what my life was. I never left you, Mary. You walked away."

Her eyes welled with unshed tears, but Arthur didn’t let up, the wounds of their past bleeding fresh. "You think I don’t know why? You made the right call, I’ll give you that. But you don’t get to come back now and act like I’m your knight in shinin’ armor. I’m not. And I can’t be."

"Arthur, please," she begged. "You’re still the best man I’ve ever known. I wouldn’t be here asking you if I didn’t believe that."

He shook his head, his frustration boiling over. "You don’t know a damn thing about me anymore. You’re livin’ in some fantasy, Mary. Always have been. This pure life of yours? Your daddy’s still drinkin’ and whorin’ and gamblin’ away your money. Jamie’s nearly run off with some cult, and here you are, beggin’ me to fix it all."

Her lips quivered as she reached for him, but he stepped back, keeping the distance between them. "I’m sorry," she said quietly. "I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just—I didn’t know who else to turn to."

Arthur sighed, his anger giving way to something softer, but no less resolute. He stared at her for a long moment, his voice low but firm when he finally spoke, feeling defeated. "This is the last time we meet like this Mary. I’m done doin’ your family favors."

Her eyes widened as she grasped the weight of his words. "Oh, Arthur…"

"I’ve got my own life to worry about now," he said, gentler but unwavering. "My own family. A woman who’s stood by me, who I’ve got a future with. That’s where I’m puttin’ my focus. Not on what might’ve been."

Mary’s breath hitched, and she turned away. "It wasn’t that I didn’t love you, Arthur," she whispered, thick with emotion. “You know that.” 

"Don’t," Arthur said quickly, voice tightening. "Don’t bring that up now. It’s done. We’re done."

She turned back to him, her expression desperate, but he didn’t waver. "Think of what we had," she pleaded, her voice breaking. "Of what could’ve been."

Arthur shook his head, his voice firm even as his heart throbbed. "I’ve spent enough time thinkin’ about that, Mary. Now I’m thinkin’ about what I’ve got. And I’m not gonna throw it away for somethin’ that’s long gone."

Mary lowered her gaze, her fingers twisting together nervously. For a moment, silence fell between them, save for the distant clatter of wagon wheels and the murmur of city life around them. Arthur could see it—the shadow of the young woman she’d been, the glimmer of the love they once shared. That flicker hit him like a punch to the gut, stirring memories he’d buried deep.

He sighed, running a hand over his jaw, trying to shake the ache in his chest. Damn it all to hell, Arthur thought. Why was it always her?

Finally, he let out a long breath and stepped forward, resting a hand on her shoulder. She flinched slightly at his touch, then turned to meet his gaze, her eyes hopeful and fragile all at once.

"Fine," Arthur muttered, his tone gruff and tinged with resignation. "But this is the last time, Mary. You hear me? The last damn time."

Her lips parted in surprise, and for a fleeting moment, her face lit up, though the weight of her troubles quickly returned. "Thank you, Arthur," she whispered.

He dropped his hand and crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes at her. "Don’t thank me yet. Just tell me what kinda trouble your daddy’s dragged himself into this time."

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Stealing back the Gillis family brooch had proven to be an unseemly task, though far easier than Arthur had expected. The brooch had found its way into the hands of a pompous collector named Mr. Hugo Abernathy, a well-known figure in Saint Denis. Abernathy had a reputation for exploiting desperate gamblers, trading their losses for heirlooms and sentimental trinkets to add to his collection of gaudy treasures. Arthur didn’t know whether the man fancied himself a cultured gentleman or just another leech, but it didn’t matter. He’d made the mistake of crossing paths with Arthur Morgan. As satisfying as it might’ve been to rob the man blind, this wasn’t about profit—it was about keeping his word to Mary, no matter how reluctant he’d been to give it.

By the time Arthur handed over the brooch, the sun was dipping low, casting long shadows across the bustling streets of Saint Denis. He walked Mary back to her hotel, his boots echoing dully against the cobblestone as he turned his thoughts toward camp. Toward Kate.

As if sensing his distraction, Mary broke the silence. “So,” she said lightly, “tell me about this woman who’s tamed your heart.”

Arthur huffed a quiet chuckle. “She’s far from taming it. Hell, I can’t even tame her sometimes.”

Mary laughed softly, but there was something wistful in her tone. “She sounds... spirited.”

“She is,” Arthur said, a rare softness creeping into his voice. “She’s somethin’ else, Mary. She don’t back down from nothing. She’s kind, too, in her own way. Got a way of makin’ me believe I might just be better than I’ve been.”

Mary hesitated, a flicker of something unspoken crossing her face. “And... she doesn’t mind what you do? The outlaw life, I mean. Doesn’t it... bother her? I can’t imagine it’s the life any woman dreams of.”

Arthur’s steps slowed, and his jaw tightened as the words sank in. He stopped, turning to face her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Mary’s eyes widened, realizing her misstep, but she pressed on, perhaps emboldened by old familiarity. “I just mean... I tried to love you, Arthur. I really did. But that life you lead—it consumes everything. I just don’t see how anyone can truly be happy with it. Or with you.”

Arthur’s lips parted slightly, as though the words had struck him like a blow. They pained him deeply, he already struggled with feeling unworthy of Kate’s affections. But it stung especially after what he had just done to save Mary’s family, again. A slow anger began to simmer in his chest. “Kate don’t see it that way,” he said firmly. “She sees me. For who I am. Not for what I’ve done or where I come from.”

Mary faltered, searching for the right response, but her silence said enough.

“That’s the difference, Mary,” Arthur continued, his tone sharpening. “You were always tryin’ to fix me, tryin’ to make me somethin’ I’m not. Kate... she doesn't ask for that. She just—” He stopped himself, shaking his head. “She loves me as I am.”

Mary looked away, a flush creeping into her cheeks. “I didn’t mean to offend you, Arthur. I just... I suppose I wanted to understand what she sees in you. What I couldn’t see.”

Arthur let out a breath, long and heavy. “Maybe that’s just it,” he said quietly. “We were never meant to see eye to eye. You were always lookin’ for somethin’ I couldn’t give, and I was too stubborn to realize it.”

They stood in silence for a moment, the distance between them suddenly feeling insurmountable.

“Thank you,” Mary said finally, her voice soft and resolute. “For everything.”

Arthur nodded, his expression unreadable. “Take care, Mary.” Without another word, he turned and walked away, the sound of his boots fading into the din of the city.

As Arthur mounted Belle and rode back toward camp, a strange weight lifted from his shoulders. It was as though he’d finally closed a door he hadn’t realized had been open for far too long, letting the past linger like a ghost. Mary had been a symbol of what had always been out of reach—a life of quiet respectability, a pure life. A fantasy where he could be the man she thought he should be. But with every step Belle took, the clarity of his feelings grew. 

That life had never been meant for him. Mary had never been meant for him.

Mary had wanted a version of him that didn’t exist, a man who could walk away from the outlaw life and become something proper in the eyes of society. She’d seen his flaws as barriers, challenges to be smoothed over or removed entirely. That his past was something he could simply erase from his identity. She loved the idea of him, not the man himself. 

Kate, on the other hand, had never tried to change him. She had seen him at his worst—bloodied and bruised, hardened by the choices he’d made—and still, she’d chosen to love him. All of him. The good, the bad, and the downright ugly.

Kate didn’t just stand by his side; she rooted herself there in devotion. She didn’t demand perfection or moral absolution. Instead, she accepted the man he was and encouraged the man he was trying to become. She saw the good in him, even when he couldn’t see it himself. Kate understood that his scars, both visible and hidden, were part of what made him who he was. Where Mary had always sought to mend or reshape him, Kate simply held space for him to be, flaws and all. 

As the city lights of Saint Denis faded behind him, Arthur let out a deep breath, one he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. The ache of old memories had dulled, replaced by something warmer, steadier. He thought of Kate’s laugh, the way her eyes sparkled with mischief when she teased him, the strength in her voice when she pushed him to keep fighting for what mattered. She didn’t coddle him or let him wallow in self-pity. She challenged him, called him out, set him straight, and still, she stayed.

The realization struck him like a punch to the gut: Kate was his future. Not some imagined version of himself or a life he could never truly live. Kate was real, and she was waiting for him back at camp.

Arthur urged Belle into a faster trot, eager to leave Saint Denis behind. The past had its place, sure, but it wasn’t where he belonged. Not anymore. For the first time in a long while, Arthur felt certain of his path. His future lay ahead with Kate—and he could hardly wait to seize it.

 ━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

The camp was alive with the warm hum of camaraderie as Kate sat cross-legged at the poker table, her cheeks flushed from laughter. The early evening sun dipped low on the horizon, casting a golden hue over Shady Belle as the group settled into their game. Hosea, ever the charming rogue, shuffled the deck with a flair, his mischievous grin growing as he eyed Kate's rapidly increasing pile of poker chips. 

Charles leaned back in his chair, sipping from a tin cup while Javier and Lenny exchanged jabs, their banter bringing easy laughter to the group.

“Now, Miss Kate,” Hosea drawled, dealing the cards with the finesse of a seasoned cheat, “you’d best not let that pretty smile fool us into thinking you don’t know what you’re doing. Although,” he added, nodding toward her hoard of chips, “I suspect the smile ain’t needed.”

Kate smirked, tossing a couple of chips into the pot. “Oh, trust me, Hosea. I don’t need my pretty smile to clean you out.”

A ripple of laughter swept over the table as Lenny slapped it. “She’s got you there, old man! She’s ruthless.”

“I’ll show you ‘old man,’” Hosea grumbled, though his grin betrayed his amusement.

Charles leaned in, his tone faux-serious. “Or maybe she’s just cheating.”

Kate gasped, placing a hand to her chest in mock offense. “The slander! Lies on my good name!”

“Good practice for tomorrow,” Javier said with a sly grin. “Maybe we should put her at the table instead of Arthur.”

The group erupted in laughter as the game continued, the teasing punctuated by moments of concentration. Kate reveled in the lightheartedness, the warmth of her companions easing the dull fatigue that had lingered all day. The strange dream she’d had still nagged at the edges of her thoughts, but the laughter and camaraderie helped soften its weight.

The sound of hooves approaching broke through the chatter, and all heads turned as Arthur dismounted Belle and strolled toward the group. Kate’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. 

“Arthur!” she greeted warmly, setting her cards down. “You’re back early. I thought you’d be out until dark.”

Arthur tipped his hat to the group, his gaze softening when it landed on her. With a small, fond smile, he bent to tilt back her hat and pressed a quick kiss to her forehead, completely unbothered by the amused stares from the others. 

“Figured I’d better get back,” he said, his voice low but full of concern. “How’re you feelin’? Grimshaw ain’t been ridin’ you too hard, has she?”

Kate waved him off, trying to mask her weariness with a smile. “It’s alright, Arthur. Just needed a little rest, that’s all.”

Arthur stepped behind her chair, folding his arms as he watched the game unfold. “You want me to deal you in, son?” Hosea asked with a knowing smirk.

Arthur shook his head. “I’ll pass. Looks like y’all’ve got enough trouble at the table already.”

Three hands later, Arthur couldn’t help but notice Kate placing a high bet despite her lame cards. He frowned, leaning forward. “Hold on. Are you whipsawin’ Hosea?” He whispered loudly. 

Kate froze, turning to glare at him with mock indignation. “Arthur Morgan, I cannot believe you right now.”

The men at the table groaned as Charles threw his cards down. “Told you she was cheating,” he said, laughing.

“How’s she even doing it?” Lenny asked, his curiosity piqued. “You can’t squeeze a player by yourself.”

Kate rose with a huff, tossing her cards on the table and dramatically pointing across at Javier. “Ay, pequeño diablo!” Javier threw his hands up in mock innocence. “I swear, it was her idea!”

Lenny leaned back, shaking his head with feigned annoyance. “Can’t believe you’d do Hosea dirty like that. Poor old man.”

Arthur burst into laughter as realization dawned. “You two teamed up on Hosea? Of all people?”

Hosea chuckled, putting a hand to his heart. “I’m touched, truly.”

Kate grinned, collecting her chips and dumping them in her satchel. “No hard feelings,” she said, pushing in her chair, and flicking her hat in a playful farewell.

“You’ve learned from the best,” Hosea replied with a laugh.

Kate looped her arm around Arthur as he wrapped a hand around her waist. “I think it’s time I turned in,” she said, her voice softening as the laughter behind her began to fade.

“Goodnight, Kate,” Charles said with a small nod, echoed by Lenny and Hosea.

Javier smirked, leaning back in his chair. “Sleep well, card shark. Don’t let Arthur keep you up too late.” He winked playfully, “we got a big day tomorrow.”

Arthur shot him a warning glance but chuckled, steering Kate toward the house. “They’re gonna have your name runnin’ through camp by morning,” he teased.

“Good,” Kate replied with a smirk. “Keeps things interesting.”

 ━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

The climb up the creaking, weathered staircase to their bedroom was quiet, the kind of silence that wrapped around two people who didn’t need words to fill the space between them. Arthur walked just behind Kate, his gaze focussed on her every movement. 

Up close he noticed the faint pallor in her cheeks. She was good at hiding it, but he could tell she was still feeling unwell. He ran a hand over his jaw, searching for the right way to bring it up without discouraging her mood. Listening to her laughter and the childish banter with Hosea and the other guys struck a chord in his heart. He didn’t want anything to ruin her happiness. But this next job, coupled with her abating strength loomed over his consciousness. Arthur couldn’t let it go. 

As they reached the landing, Arthur cleared his throat, breaking the quiet. “Darlin’, I gotta talk to you about somethin’.” He was soft, cautious, but it was clear this wasn’t something he could brush aside.

Kate stopped just shy of opening the bedroom door, turning to face him with an arched brow. “That sounds ominous.”

Arthur gave her a crooked smile, his hat in his hands, but before he could continue, Kate pushed the door open—and gasped.

Hanging from a shelf inside the room was an elegant black and gold dress, the fabric catching the dim light like liquid fire. Beside it hung a sleek black suit and a matching golden ascot tie—Trelawney’s handiwork, no doubt. Arthur recognized the attire immediately, part of the plan for the riverboat job, and an uncomfortable weight settled in his chest. 

This wasn’t the first risky scheme they’d run, but something about involving Kate this time gnawed at him. The mayor's garden party had been a simple play to gather information. It had gone smoothly enough, but this felt different. The stakes were higher, the dangers more evident. Kate would be shoved in the spotlight. Open, and vulnerable. 

This wasn’t just another job with the gang. In the past, Arthur would dive into missions headfirst, guns blazing and ready to handle whatever chaos came his way. He’d learned to adapt, to put on a show when things went south, always prepared to claw his way out of trouble. But this time was different. This time, he had something to lose.

Kate wasn’t just another member of the gang. She was a light in the darkness, a reason to hope in a world that so often felt too heavy to bear.

Arthur's unease wasn’t just about her safety—it was about what her involvement represented. Every lie, every con, every dangerous move Dutch made, Arthur could swallow it. It was a part of the life he'd chosen. But dragging Kate into that world, risking her for the sake of their schemes, felt like a line he was dangerously close to crossing. One that gambled with her life. 

She deserved better than this, Arthur knew it was not the future he wanted for her. Yet here she was, caught up in it all because of him. Because Kate is too stubborn to let him take on the world alone. The thought of something going wrong made him feel sick. 

Kate stepped forward, running her fingers lightly over the dress, her expression equal parts awe and amusement. “Well, I’ll be damned. Trelawney certainly has an eye for style,” she murmured.

Arthur crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe. “Yeah, an eye for flair and trouble. This don’t change how I feel about you being involved in it.”

Kate turned to him, her playful grin fading as she caught the concern etched into his face. “Arthur,” she began softly, already sensing where this was headed, “I’ll be fine.”

“You sure about that?” he pressed, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him. “You ain’t been feelin’ fine these past few days. You think I don’t notice how pale you’ve been lookin’, or how you’ve been tryin’ to hide it from me? I’m worried about you.”

“I told you, it’s nothing serious,” Kate said, though the edge in her voice betrayed her. 

“Darlin’, it’s serious to me.” Arthur stated. 

She wasn’t sure if she was trying to convince Arthur or herself. Her thoughts drifted back to the dream she’d had that morning, the edges of it now hazy, like a half-remembered melody. She could recall flashes—shadows moving like whispers, an overwhelming warmth, and a sense of being drawn toward something she couldn’t quite remember. The dream’s meaning eluded her, slippery and incomprehensible, but it left behind a strange, fluttering feeling in her chest, like the stirrings of anticipation or fear.

Maybe it was just the lingering effects of the fever, or perhaps something more. Kate had noticed subtle changes in her body—a creeping fatigue that left her feeling weaker than usual, a loss of appetite, and persistent headaches that seemed to come and go. She brushed it off as nothing serious, likely just a common cold. After all, a little sickness had never slowed her down before.

She squared her shoulders, meeting his eyes. “I can pull my weight, Arthur. I always have.”

Arthur sighed, dragging a hand through his hair. “It ain’t about pullin’ your weight hon. You’ve got nothin’ to prove to me or to anyone else. I don’t want you pushin’ yourself too hard, not for something like this.” He gestured toward the dress, his voice softening. “If somethin’ goes wrong on that boat…”

Kate crossed the room and took his hand, squeezing it gently. “It won’t. Hosea’s got this all planned out to the last detail. I just have to sing a few songs while you win a couple rounds. I’ll be careful, I promise.”

The fact that Kate rehearsed things with Hosea brought him a sense of calm, but still his anxiety festered. Arthur held her gaze, his deep blue eyes searching hers for any hint of doubt.

 “I just hate that Dutch is puttin’ you in the lion's den while your vulnerable. You mean everything to me, Kate,” he said quietly. “I don’t want a future without you in it.”

Kate smiled faintly, her fingers brushing against his cheek as his warm hands enveloped her waist, squeezing them like he was testing if she were real or just his wild imagination.

“I’ll make you a deal, alright?” she resolved. “After this, I’m done. No more schemes, no more jobs. I’ll tell Dutch I’m out of commission.”

Arthur’s lips quirked into a soft smile, though the worry didn’t fully leave his face. She had made up her mind. “I’ll hold you to that,” he muttered, pulling her into a gentle embrace.

She rested her head against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat grounding her. “I know you will,” she whispered, closing her eyes.

As they stood in the quiet room, the soft glow of the lantern illuminated the dress and suit like relics from a story neither of them wanted to live, an unwelcome reminder of the weight of the world outside. Arthur tilted his head, his lips brushing against Kate’s hairline with a tenderness that belied the tension coiled in his chest. His hand traced slow, deliberate circles along the small of her back, grounding him as much as it soothed her. 

For a moment, Kate closed her eyes and leaned into him, the warmth of his body chasing away the lingering unease of her dream. Flashes of it teased the edges of her mind—a heartbeat, a pull she couldn’t quite explain. She opened her eyes and pulled back slightly, her hands resting on his chest where she could feel his heart, steady and strong. 

“You’re too good to me, you know that?” she teased, though the mischief in her eyes couldn’t entirely hide the vulnerability beneath. 

Arthur let out a soft snort, his lips quirking into a smirk that made her stomach flutter. “Darlin’, I think you got that backward.” He leaned down to nudge her nose with his, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down her spine. “I don't know what a man like me did to deserve a woman like you.”

Her laughter was quiet, intimate, the kind that warmed Arthur to his core and chased away the heaviness he carried. She moved her hands to his shoulders, her fingers tracing the lines of his shirt like she was memorizing him. For a moment, all the worry and fear melted away. 

“You know,” she murmured, her voice dropping to a playful whisper, “you could try on the suit—” She bit her lip, her lashes lowering as she glanced up at him, a soft blush coloring her cheeks.“And recreate that night we had in Saint Denis.” 

Arthur raised an eyebrow, giving her a skeptical look, though the corner of his mouth twitched with amusement. “What, you’re tellin’ me this doesn’t have it’s charm?” He spread his arms wide, gesturing to his body and clothes. His tone was laced with mock arrogance, but the warmth in his gaze betrayed his act.

Kate pressed herself against him, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. “Absolutely,” she murmured, her voice softer now, her lips hovering close to his. Her eyes flicked down to his mouth, her breath mingling with his. “I want you just as you are.”

Arthur’s grin widened, his hands sliding up her sides to cradle her face. His thumbs brushed her cheeks as he leaned closer, his voice a rough murmur. “Then what are we waitin’ for, to hell with the suit.”

Kate didn’t give him a chance to say more. Standing on her toes, she captured his mouth in a kiss, slow and deliberate. Arthur stilled for only a heartbeat, then surrendered, his hands tightening on her waist as he kissed her back with a fervor that made her knees weak. The world outside the room seemed to vanish, the faint sounds of camp life fading into nothing. All that mattered was the way her lips moved against his, the way her fingers tangled in his hair, the way her body molded perfectly to his, like they’d been made for this.

His tongue brushed along her bottom lip, and Kate moaned softly, her hands sliding to his collar to tug him closer. Their movements grew more eager, more desperate, as they peeled away layers of clothing, discarding them without breaking their connection. Arthur felt his need for her aching between his legs, and he couldn’t stop himself from guiding her backward to the cot. He followed her down, his weight pressing her into the mattress as he ground his hips against hers, drawing a breathless gasp from her lips.

Arthur broke the kiss to trail his lips down her neck, his stubble scraping lightly against her sensitive skin. Each kiss was unhurried and reverent, as though he were memorizing her taste. He reached the curve of her collarbone, then lower, his mouth finding a peaked nipple. He captured it between his lips, swirling his tongue around the sensitive nub, and Kate arched into him, a soft cry spilling from her mouth.

Her fingers tangled in his hair as his kisses continued downward, his warm breath ghosting over her stomach. She shivered beneath him, flashes of her dream surfacing again—the heartbeat, the magnetic pull, the sense of inevitability. When he kissed her navel, she swore she could feel it again, that same unshakable connection.

Arthur paused, his lips hovering over her skin as he looked up at her. “You alright, sweetheart?” he murmured, his voice thick with concern and raw desire. His hands caressed her thighs, grounding her in the moment.

Kate laughed breathlessly, her heart racing so fast she thought he might feel it. “I am now,” she whispered, her voice trembling with affection and longing.

Arthur chuckled, low and warm, the sound vibrating against her skin. His hands slid down to lift her thighs, spreading her open for him. She gasped softly as she felt his warm breath against her most sensitive spot, her fingers tightening in his hair.

“I think I can help with that,” he drawled, his grin turning devilish before he lowered his head and pressed a kiss where she needed him most.

Kate’s body tensed at the first touch of his tongue, her head falling back as a moan escaped her lips, unrestrained and raw. That sound, coupled with the sensations Arthur was drawing from her, made her chest tighten with something beyond pleasure. The rhythm from her dream returned, steady and certain, like a heartbeat resonating deep within her soul. It wasn’t just her body responding to him; it was her heart, her entire being. Arthur’s mouth moved with a precision that wasn’t hurried but deliberate, as though he had all the time in the world to explore her, to love her in a way that felt eternal. 

Every touch was a silent vow. A tangible expression of holy devotion, a sacred need that left her trembling beneath him, utterly lost yet feeling more whole than ever.

As the pleasure surged and overwhelmed her, Kate swore she could feel that heartbeat echo in her chest, pulsing with a meaning she didn’t fully understand but instinctively trusted. This moment wasn’t just an escape from the dangers of tomorrow; it was an anchor, a reminder of what truly mattered. What they were fighting for; their future.  Kate cried out his name, the sound trembling with passion and something deeper. Hope. In Arthur’s touch, in his unspoken promises, she knew that whatever lay ahead, there was hope for a future beyond this. For now, she let herself fall into his love, into the steady rhythm that promised her not just comfort but a forever she hadn’t dared to dream of.

AN: I know this chapter and the last one probably feel a little repetitive in the way they're structured; Arthur goes out, Kate is left at camp, and then they come together at night. But I promise the next chapter will include them together. I think you all know what mission is coming up....

Suffice to say, I think I've got the rest of this fic laid out. Well at least I have the bones, I've just been adding the meat as I go along. But it will be 35 chapters, with 2 epilogue chapters (37 total). It feels so far away, yet close at the same time. I wonder if I'll finish this before it hits the one year anniversary in March! ♥️

[rocknbkdk]

i’m so disappointed with the mha ending, but horikoshi is a man after all.

how can you end the manga 4 months ago so beautifully, just to ruin it with THAT. we waited for 4 months for something exciting, but it a rushed ending of whatever the hell that was. it’s literally queerbait and i stand by it. horikoshi wrote such a beautiful relationship between 2 characters, with OBVIOUS romantic undertones. what happened to katsuki being the main funder? the rest of their lives? their feelings become one? he could’ve written THE shounen with a hinted lgbtq ending. IT HAD THE POTENTIAL.

mha had the most typical shounen ending. THE FIRST ENDING WAS SO MUCH BETTER. no unnecessary love interest for the main character, izuku finally won katsuki over, a (not so) friendship between 2 guys who were the plot and it still had a nice ending without izuku having a quirk. BUT NO. horikoshi had to ruin all of that. he also said he was disappointed with naruto’s ending just to end HIS manga the same way. hypocrisy at its finest???!!!

i actually had so much faith in horikoshi because of how beautifully he wrote himiko and ochaco’s development. himiko learning that love goes both ways, learning that the heroes DO care and ochaco learning how to accept her (in short). & with katsuki and izuku is the same. katsuki learning how to love himself along with learning how to love izuku. wanting to be the reason izuku doesn’t become a hero to being the reason izuku becomes a hero, and i could go on and on…

i feel so mad FOR katsuki, he never got to achieve any of his dreams. he spent 8 years on that goddamn man, to be is forced to be with a woman whose dead girlfriend convinced her she’s straight. AND APPARENTLY HE WAS THE ONE WHO ENCOURAGED IZUKU TO TALK TO OCHACO??? horikoshi wtf.

ochaco’s character development is completely watered down. her learning how to be herself, but she’s just a love interest to horikoshi. she very obviously moved on from izuku… just to fall in love with him again? after 8 years? izu//ocha was obviously very one sided. izuku showed completely no interest in ochaco before, so i don’t get how he randomly started crushing on her. yes, he blushed around her before, but he blushed around other girls as well because he never talked to girls before.

also, i don’t get why HIMIKO was pushing ochaco to talk to izuku? when she was clearly in LOVE with her.

ochaco admitted she dreamt of himiko, we had a togachaco scene just for it to be watered down by horikoshi making izuku appear and then them starting uncontrollably blushing around each other. all of it was completely unnecessary. he forced the underdeveloped ship so badly like even their relationship is underdeveloped and rushed because of, it literally does not make sense 😭😭

honestly sorry for izuku, katsuki, himiko and ochaco because they HAD TO BE WRITTEN BY THIS EVIL MAN CALLED HORIKOSHI.

LIKE LOOK AT THIS PANEL. how is this handhold peak romance?!?! it’s so stiff… and empty… they’re just grabbing each other’s hand. it’s so empty

also the toya situation? his abuser is roaming freely around. he never got any justice, even after death. but that’s another story. HORIKOSHI WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR WRITING SKILLS

ps don’t get me wrong at all. izu//ocha is such a cute ship, but it’s so bland it doesn’t have enough seasoning for it to become canon

(i’ll probably edit this a few times because i feel like i have more to add that my brain hasn’t realized)

[berylgrace]

in a hilariously commitmentphobe move, i had a dream i got engaged and was extremely uncomfortable about it IN THE DREAM and ended things

[felassan]

Polygon: 'How Dragon Age: The Veilguard’s writers decided each companion’s romance arc'

Rest of post under a cut due to spoilers.

“There’s so many different flavors of romances with the characters that even if one doesn’t work for you, one of them I think is likely to,” creative director John Epler told Polygon. “But they’re so tied to the character arcs that they become part of that character development as opposed to ‘and also you can romance them on the side.’” For instance, Epler said, Bellara’s romance is purposefully awkward and stilted. (“As Bellara’s writer, I’m very familiar with it,” he added.) “It’s clearly somebody who doesn’t see themselves as someone people are going to want to romance,” he said. “And so one of my favorite things is paying Bellara a compliment, and she takes it in the most awkward [way]. Because she herself as a character, and something you see through her arc, has these issues with how she sees herself, especially after what happened in her past. And so that romance kind of plays off of that as somebody who does have, I wouldn’t say necessarily low self-esteem, but has issues with self-regard. This is how that romance goes, especially if they are themselves a very awkward character.” Meanwhile, Lucanis — who joins the party after you rescue him from an underwater prison where he was tortured for a year after someone in his inner circle betrayed him — has a long road ahead of him in terms of opening up and letting others in. (That also means the results of one big early game choice might cut him off entirely.) “[He] has an arc that’s very much about family and letting people get close and seeing what happens,” said Epler. “And so with his romance, you get more of a slow burn where it doesn’t feel like you’re ever getting quite as close to him as maybe you want until the very end.” In addition to the player-chosen romance arcs, some companions you haven’t chosen to romance might enter romantic relationships with one another (or in the case of one character, with an NPC that isn’t in your party). This isn’t the first time non-romanced party members get together: A fan favorite, for example, is Qunari mercenary Iron Bull and Tevinter mage Dorian Pavus in Dragon Age: Inquisition. But Veilguard has more opportunity than ever before for these side romances to blossom. It all came down, once again, to what made sense for these characters’ own arcs. Bellara doesn’t romance anyone outside of Rook because, as Epler said, she is a “very focused person with a very specific obsession.” Romance isn’t exactly on the top of her mind. For Taash and Harding, however, a romance made perfect sense — both characters navigate accepting who they are and how that fits in with what they thought they knew about the communities and cultures they hail from."

“I think one of my favorite parts of that arc is how much compatibility comes through as you go through their arcs and you realize these are two people […] broken in ways that are so complementary to allow them to heal each other,” said Epler. “They end up developing this very lovely relationship, lovely romance that makes sense for the both of them.” Players might understandably want to go into the game without any spoilers about what characters might get together. But if you’re heading into your second playthrough and you already know more about what the characters’ relationships with one another look like, making decisions might take on a whole new level of significance. That was definitely the case for game director Corinne Busche. “What I love about those developments is that it really gives us some interesting and compelling decision-making about the choices and the consequences within the game,” she told us. “[The relationships] have an extra level, I think, for the decision making. I don’t want to get into spoilers, but there was a moment where I set the controller down and had to go, Oh my God, how can I possibly make this decision knowing what I know of these two characters and how they feel about each other? Oh, it just really makes it hit.” There’s a lot of emphasis on the inter-character relationships in Veilguard. Not only is there the usual party banter while out and about in the world, but you can also stumble upon conversations between characters back at your home base, mitigate disagreements between them, and read codex entries about their book club meetings, cooking rotation, and other things. It makes sense that writing interactions between these companions might spark some ideas for the writers. “It really does come down to who makes the most sense for these characters and who as the writers we are excited about pairing up,” said Epler. “Because I think something people forget is […] well, it’s not technically fanfiction. It’s the same impetus that drives fanfiction where you’re like, Who are the characters we love the most and who do we want to see together? Who do we think makes the most sense as a couple? And then playing with that and seeing if it actually does make sense.”

[source]

[thelastairsimblr]

Family Pack #4

I’m happy to share some sims with you all today! In this post, you’ll find 12 households (40 sims total), each with their own stories and biographies. All of these sims have additional Everyday outfits, skills, bonus traits, Likes and Dislikes, sexual orientations, pronouns, family dynamics, and Lifestyles. You can find them all on the gallery under my Origin ID: TheLastAirSimmer or in the tray files linked under the cut! As always, feel free to tag me if you end up using them.

Abreu

A respected food critic, Maria’s opinion is highly valued by all as the towns’ baked good connoisseur. Her husband Joaquin, a renowned pianist, is no exception; he worships the ground she walks on. Together, they project their creative outlooks onto their sons. Santiago, the eldest and a romantic, has the full support of his parents and wants to become a professional wedding photographer. Even though young Rémy feels he didn’t inherit his parents’ imagination, he still wants to make them proud.

Naval

Aparna owned her own restaurant while raising her two girls alone. Hema was able to help out when she was old enough, allowing Aparna to find success and receive critical acclaim by publishing her own cookbook. Today, Hema is focusing on her engineering studies while trying to find love; she’s very smart and sincere, but a bit naive. Ridhi is chasing a riskier path; she wants to be a famous musician. And while Aparna hopes that this is just a phase, she supports her youngest daughter anyway.

Monaghan

As young parents, Stefan and Marianne sacrificed a lot. Stefan became a cop to support his family, but still gets caught up trying to relive his youth from time to time. Marianne longs for the day that she can quit her job at the local diner and become a singer. Soren feels pressure to please his parents, but really just want to play videogames all day while Tatum and Aria constantly bicker, not at all concerned with their parents’ feelings or the wellbeing of Hunter, who just wants attention.

Larson

Quite the jazz singer in his day, Clive is desperate to find ways to stay relevant in the ever-changing music scene. Fiona, longing for the authentic soul who serenaded her years ago, knows she can inspire him again; she’s stood by him through a lot. But until then, you can find the melancholy art critic drinking to yesteryear at the bar. Jade dropped out of college to pursue a career in social media (much to Fiona’s discontent) while Candice is following the artistic path her parents paved.

Agawa

Ever the class clown, Yuto knew that he had a knack for entertaining people. This was only confirmed after he went viral on Social Bunny for the first time! When he told his parents that he wanted to pursue a life in the public eye, they saw it as further evidence that he couldn’t take anything seriously. He makes a decent living streaming video games and his eccentric personality is pure internet gold. Though to be fair, he should probably be a bit cautious with what he says and does online.

Hollifield

As a teen, Whitney’s future looked bright. But she forfeited a lot of opportunities to pursue a whirlwind romance with a boy who had a dangerous edge. They were happy for a time, but it didn’t last and the only thing she kept from that relationship was her daughter Emma. She now works a lowly job in fast food while taking classes at Britechester, hoping to find a career in social media. Her days are busier as a working single mom, but Emma keeps herself entertained by befriending her neighbors.

Catton

Following the loss of her son to avoidable circumstances, Dottie found herself in the care of his two children. Filled with regret for not doing more for her son, the college professor watches the kids like a hawk! She’s keen on using her connections to better their lives. Temperamental Owen does well to make her proud with his grades, but he has an artsy side that he only shares with those closest to him. His little sister Bonnie would rather spend time making friends than studying though.

Qian

After founding a groundbreaking app, Shirong found a place among the company of the rich and powerful. His charming wife Meifing, quite the schmoozer at elite parties, is constantly looking for funding for her next big venture (while also being the go-to-girl for all the neighborhood gossip). Nuo chose to move home after grad school to save money, but is ready to leave and start her own law firm. Her younger brother Haoyu adds to her restlessness by barraging her with his antics.

Sullivan

Atticus’ dad Clifford, a retired veteran, supported his sons’ musical dreams fully, having raised him alone after his wife died. While roaming the world, Atticus met Elisa; a fashion guru with a fiery disposition. The pair had three children and Clifford moved in to help with the newborn. Like her dad, Lydia also wants to be an artist (whether if it’s for her love for acting or a desire to be in the spotlight remains to be seen) while Malicia, afraid of being unseen, finds relief in her friends.

Kingsley-Ramirez

Jaime and Paxton met/moved in together before they could actually get to know each other, both having been new to the city at the time with zero connections. They found themselves compatible not only as roommates, but eventually boyfriends as well! Jaime always puts others before himself; it shows in the passion he has for social justice causes he advocates for. Meanwhile, Pax works a parttime job at a small coffee shop, but is intent on putting himself through school to become a veterinarian.

Tanaka-Murdock

Nigel and Shannon met at Foxbury and developed feelings for each other during study sessions. Though Nigel was the only one to graduate, he admires Shannon for making the decision that was right for her. He enjoys being the breadwinner while Shannon follows her artistic instincts, though he wishes he had his wife’s free spirit. Shannon is quite hard on herself and works tirelessly until she makes something she’s proud of while their son Kason, while a quick learner, really just wants to play.

Miyake

Even if he’s never been the most social person, Kenzo is a loyal and fierce friend to those lucky enough to make it into his circle. A patron of the sciences, he cares deeply about precision and perfection. However, when it comes to raising his son Akira, he wants the boy to follow his own path, even if it’s not exactly the one he would choose for himself. Akira seems to be doing just that; far more sociable than his father, he never fails to leave a lasting impression on anyone he meets.

[smeddiemunson]

No Upside Down AU + a platonic Stobin sleepover + buckingham and steddie referenced.

“So?” Robin asked. 

Steve sucked his teeth. “Robin, we’ve only just started the sleepover, I’m not telling you yet!” 

“I’m in my pyjamas! We have a movie on, we have popcorn! We built a blanket fort!” Robin pointed to each thing in turn as if to remind Steve that he knew exactly how long she had been waiting already. “If you make me wait any longer, I’ll kill you.” 

Steve snorted. It was the most empty threat he’d ever heard in his life. If he died, by Robin’s hand or otherwise, she would follow him soon after. They were soul bonded at this point; one couldn’t exist without the other.

“Alright.” Robin slapped at his arm excitedly. “Alright! Stop hitting me!” 

Robin stopped hitting him but left her hands on his arm, fingers pressing, urging against his skin. 

“It was good.”

“Steve!” Robin moaned, throwing herself back against the pillows in truly dramatic fashion. “You can’t just give me that! I want all the details!”

“I don’t know, Rob!” Steve cried back. “I had fun. He’s really funny and sweet, and...” Steve bit his lip as a blush spread across his cheeks. 

Robin picked up on it like a bloodhound. “At least tell me what film you watched?” 

Steve turned his face away from her, focusing too intently on the movie. “I don’t really remember,” he mumbled. 

Robin squealed. “Steven Harrington, you sly dog! I knew there were details!” 

Steve rolled his eyes. “He had all these blankets and pillows in the back of his van, and he put fairly lights up, and we kinda couldn’t see the screen because we had to park further away for obvious reasons. But-“ Steve took a deep breath, then rushed out, “It might have been the best first date I’ve ever been on.”

“Eddie Munson, a romantic. Who would’ve thought? Certainly not me!”

Steve shoved at her.

“Well don’t stop there! I want the details!”

Steve groaned. “Do you really want the details?” 

“Of course I do! If I can’t have my gay romance, then I want to live through yours!” 

Steve lifted his arm to tuck Robin underneath it and pull her into his chest. He ignored the way she tried to struggle away. “You could still have your gay romance, Birdie. You just have to tell her.” 

“You don’t know that!” Robin replied as she was finally able to get her arms free enough to push away from Steve. 

“She’s friends with Eddie,” Steve reminded her. That should be all Robin needed to know to explain anything about former Queen of Hawkins High, Chrissy Cunningham. 

Robin slapped at him. “Just because she’s friends with a gay person doesn’t mean she is gay, dingus. That’s not how it works!” 

Steve easily batted her hands away with a chuckle. “That’s how it worked with me!” 

Robin groaned. 

“I’m just saying, I would never have thought about being bi if you hadn’t said anything about being a lesbian. Maybe Chrissy is the same!” 

Robin buried her face into her hands. “Okay,” She said, though it was muffled by her hands so much that Steve pulled them away from her face and kept her wrists in his hands.

“Okay. Say, by some miracle, she likes girls, what’s to say that she would like me?”

Steve made a noise of disagreement. “First of all, she would be crazy to not like you because you are amazing and beautiful and the bravest person I’ve ever met—” 

Robin rolled her eyes but Steve merely rolled his back, shook her hands a little and carried on. They’d had this exact conversation before and Steve didn’t feel like retracing it because there were more important things to get to.

“But I am almost certain she does like you back. She definitely flirts with you all the time.”

“No she does not.”

“I think I know more about girls flirting that you do, Robin.”

“Why? Because you turn into a little school girl around Eddie and do the same thing?” 

“No,” Steve said, though he did so through a blush that did nothing to defend him from the accusation. “I know because girls always flirt with me.” 

“Oh shut up.” 

“They do!” Steve finally let go of Robin’s wrists so he could push a frustrated hand through his hair— already floppy from his shower and lack of product. “They do and I know Chrissy is doing it to you.”

“Prove it.”

Steve grinned and began listing off his points on his fingers. “She always laughs at your jokes. She twirls her hair whenever she talks to you. She asked you to explain that fucking French movie you forced us to watch the other week and she listened.”

Robin whacked him again. “You told me you liked that film!”

“I fell asleep! Of course I liked it.” Steve huffed. “Do you need me to keep going about Chrissy?”

“Maybe not,” Robin muttered. Then she squarked as Steve scrambled over her and out of their blanket fort to where the phone was hooked into the wall. “What are you doing?” 

Steve just grinned as he quickly clicked some numbers on the keypad. 

Robin watched in confusion from her spot on the floor.

“Hello, this is Steven Harrington. I was wondering if I could speak to Chrissy?” He waggled his eyebrows at her. “Thank you, Ma’am.” 

Robin’s face turned white in a second. She scrambled to her feet, losing them under herself a couple of times, but she couldn’t reach Steve to slam the phone down for him before he started speaking again. 

“Hi Chrissy, I have Robin here.” He thrust the phone at her chest, not giving Chrissy time to answer and mouthed, ask her. 

Robin glared, hoping that Steve would let it go. But he was as stubborn as she was and Chrissy’s confused call of Robin meant she wouldn’t be able to hold out longer than him this time. She would get her revenge, he was sure of it.

“Chrissy. Hi. How’s things?” Robin stumbled when she finally put the phone up to her ear. She didn’t stop glaring at Steve though. 

Steve only smiled in triumph.

“Yeah, I’m good. It’s good. Yeah.” 

Steve jabbed Robin in the side to stop her from talking herself in circles. He gestured with his hands for her to get on with it. 

“So, my reason for calling, and just, you know, stop me if this is at all weird and you don’t wanna hear it or if i’ve got the wrong idea. it’s Steve’s fault really--” He jabbed her again and pouted when she managed to land a meaty smack against his ribs. But it did get her to blurt out, “Do you wanna go to Benny’s with me? On Friday? As, like, a date?” 

Steve pumped his fist in the air. It may not have been the way he would have asked a girl out, but Robin had done it!

“Awesome. Yeah. Great. I’ll see you Friday then. I’ll pick you up. No, I won’t I can’t drive. Steve will drive us. But I’ll see you Friday? Yeah. Cool. Awesome. Bye Chrissy.” 

Robin handed him the phone in a daze, eyes following his hand as he hooked it back on the wall. 

“What the fuck?” She breathed. 

“I think you just got yourself a date with a hot girl, Robin.” 

[starswritewhispers]

Nalu Writing Practice-Bets & Loops

I'm so out of practice with writing, please let me know what y'all think

Lucy rubbed at her temples, her eyes squeezing shut as if that could drown out the sound of arguing next to her.  She just wanted to read her book and instead she had a front row seat to a soap opera.

"You let him call you Ever?”  Bickslow’s incredulous voice demanded, ruining her fifth attempt to read the same line. “Honestly, just because the idea of romance is lost on you does no–” “I am very romantic–stop laughing, Fried–” “See, even Fried,--” 

“I’d like to stay out of this,” The green haired mage piped up, wincing when both of his friends whirled towards him instead.

Lucy had changed her usual seat in hopes of a more peaceful spot to read, and usually, this area would’ve been fine. Of course, Evergreen had decided to tell Laxus that her date with Elfman had gone well, which led to Bickslow spitting his drink out and the following argument. “It’s not like I’m Natsu or some shit,” Bickslow argued and Lucy blinked, slowly tuning into their argument again.  “Careful,” Laxus drawled, eyes flickering over to Lucy’s as he smirked. “Blondie’s right there,”

“What is that supposed to mean?” She demanded, sliding her bookmark into place before snapping the book shut. “Talking about Natsu’s romantic failures, white right in front of his biggest–only–failure, isn’t wise or kind,” Fried supplied in a tone that she supposed was meant to be helpful.  She distantly heard the sound of chairs scooting over but was distracted by her own heartbeat in her ears and the warmth rising to her cheeks. “I–Natsu–me?”  She spluttered, eyes widening to saucers. “See,” she overheard Bickslow grumble to Evergreen. “I’m not that–” “Hey!” “What he means,” Evergreen cut in, a smirk worming its way onto her face. “Natsu obviously is in love with you, everyone knows it, except you. And maybe him.” “We’re friends,” she answered with a roll of her eyes that was heavily counteracted with her deep blush. “He doesn’t feel that way about me and neither do–” Her weak rebuttal was canceled out by a loud whoop, followed by a crash and– “Gray did it!” 

“Natsu did it!” Lucy groaned, sliding her book into her bag and accepting defeat as she stood up. “You know,” Evergreen began, something similar to mischief flickering in her eyes. “If you really don’t like him, why don’t you try dating around? I have some friends I could set you up with,” she offered, her tone far too sweet for her. “Just check with him first, make sure there’s no set jobs or anything.” Lucy narrowed her eyes, sensing a trap but unsure of where it was. She huffed, turning on her heel. “Fine,” she succeeded with a shake of her head. “Just so you all–”  She gave a pointed look to the rest of her friends who were listening in, “Leave it alone.” She started to walk off towards Natsu and Gray, or rather, the tumbling mess of limbs that was Natsu and Gray when she was cut off by Levy.

“Are you actually going to tell him?” Her best friend asked, cocking her head.  Lucy sighed, running her fingers through her hair. “I might as well,” she admitted, looking down at the bluenette. “It’ll get the guild off my back and stop giving me–” She cut herself off, checking to make sure nobody else heard her near admission. Luckily, only Levy smiled at her with a knowing, sad, look in her eyes. “I think you should just ask him,” she suggested with a bright smile. “He may surprise you and jealous dragons are never the best thing to deal with, trust–” “Levy, I love you and appreciate your help but it’s just–” She frowned, shaking her head. “We’re just friends and he hates change, I don’t want to ruin that.” She offered a weak grin that didn’t quite reach her eyes as she shrugged. “Don’t worry about the jealousy, Natsu doesn’t have a romantic bone in his body.” With that, she continued her trek over to Natsu and Gray, swallowing her unnecessary nerves. “Luce!” Natsu’s excited voice called otu to her over the noise, the pink hair boy bouncing up with a grin. “What are ya doing here? I thought you were finishing that dumb lovey-dovey book today?” Lucy frowned, crossing her arms. “It’s not dumb, it’s romantic,” she corrected with a sigh. “And I–” She cut herself off, grimacing at the memory. “Changed my mind,” she settled on with a shrug.  He only grinned at her, glancing over to Gray with a laugh. 

“Lucy goes on all these adventures with us in her real life then reads about make believe ones,” he shook his head, his mess of pnik spikes following the moment. “Your life is better than a book, Luce.” “Well,” Gray began, in a voice that usually was followed by Natsu’s fists, “Lucy’s books have charming princes and Lucy’s life has,” he glanced down at Natsu. “Temperamental dragons.” “My temperature is fine, ya lousy–” “Temperamental doesn’t mean your literal temperature, Natsu,” Lucy corrected him with a fond smile. “It means you’re–” She paused, deciding she didn’t want to be included in Erza’s wrath that day. “Nevermind.”  “See,” He whirled over to Gray, a frown tugging on his lips once he realized the ice mage’s attention was elsewhere. “Why are you looking at Juvia like that? It’s weird.” Truly. Not a romantic bone to be found. “On the note of princes,” Lucy began, immediately regretting her decision when both of the men turned their gazes back onto her. Gray looked amused whilst Natsu just seemed an odd mix of confused and something else she couldn’t place. “Evergreen wants to set me up wirth one of her friends,” she started, eyes focusing on anywhere but them. “Do we have any set mission day—” “What?” Natsu demanded at the same time Gray burst into laughter. He was rewarded with a sharp elbow in the gut from the dragon slayer, but he only doubled over as he continued to laugh.  “Shut up, Gray,” he hissed, turning back to Lucy. “You and Evergreen aren’t even friends,” He protested, eyes narrowing. “She doesn’t know the kind of guys you should be around.” Lucy bristled, her own temper rising to the surface. “Oh, and you do?” She demanded, crossing her arms.  “Obviously,” he huffed out with a laugh. 

A laugh.

She was going to kill him with his own scarf.

“I mean do you think any guy Evergreen picks for ya would know the books you read? Or how to make you hot cocoa, cause for some reason you want it just above lukewarm? Or the way ya wrinkle your nose when you lie, or–”  For a moment, Lucy’s thought paused and even Gray stopped laughing as Natsu rambled on, seeming to get more frustrated with every passing second. “And–are you even listening to me, Lucy?” He demanded, hands on his hips in an oddly similar manner to her own usual annoyed posture. “I–” She paused, feeling a wave of courage surge up in her. “So if I shouldn’t go on a date with anyone, who should I be with then?” “Me,”  Despite being the one who said it, Natsu looked as shocked as Lucy felt when the words fell from his lips. He recovered quickly, his trademark grin falling over his face as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Cause, yknow, we spend so much time together and I don’t want to deal with a new–” “Shut up,” Gray advised in a hiss, still seated next to them.  “Do you–” Her eyes flicked down to Gray, narrowing slightly at the realization that he may know something she didn’t. She’d deal with that later. “Do you like me, Natsu?” Perhaps she should’ve waited for a moment when the entir guild hall wasn’t listening to them because his response would be held over her head for far longer than she ever needed. “Really, Luce?” He asked, an expression of bemusement on his features. “Gee, I thought you were supposed to be the smart one, ya weirdo.”    She was going to punch him. Or kick him. At this point, he had earned a kick. “Like isn’t the right word, I think–” he paused, and she noticed Gray giving him an almost encouraging nod. “I think I love you?” His words trailed off at the end of the sentence, sounding unsure, nervous, and so un Natsu like that she completely reconsidered kicking him. The kick could wait, what she wanted to do in that moment couldn’t. Lucy walked closer to him, ignoring the way her hands trembled as she clutched his scarf, then promptly used it to pull him into a kiss.  She ignored the way the guild hall erupted into cheers and complaints of loss bets, focusing on Natsu’s hands sliding over her waist, both of their lips forming smiles against the others, the way they fit so perfectly. “Okay, okay, enough with the PDA,” Gray groaned and Lucy yelped, breaking away from Natsu. Her cheeks flared, promptly becoming far too aware of the guild hall. “Says the stripper,” “Yeah yeah, go take that energy out on–” “Finish that sentence, I dare you,” Natsu’s hand had somehow grabbed Lucy’s during their argument, lacing their fingers together. He turned back to face her, the bright grin on his face mirroring her own. 

By the time the happy couple had gone home, the hall was still awake with murmurs of what had occurred. “You so cheated, Ever,” Elfman groaned, dropping his head in his hands. His girlfriend snorted, but still ran her fingers through his hair fondly as she glanced over at the rest of the thunder legion, currently going through their winnings.

They had bet on not only the month but the location of when the two would confess.  “There were no rules against offering one of them an out,” she said with a faux innocent smile. “Just interfering with their own relationship.”

“Loopholes,” Cana grumbled bitterly with a swig of her beer. Or vodka. Hopefully, just beer. "At least it finally fucking happened.”

[ms-snape]

hey I noticed you haven’t done any Lucius Malfoy fics yet, and I’d like to request one if you’re open to it, the reader is a strong-willed witch who doesn’t fall for his usual charm? Lucius is used to getting whatever he wants, but the reader constantly challenges him, and it intrigues him in a way no one else has. Over time, Lucius starts to realize that he’s genuinely falling for her, and there’s a slow-burn romance as they go from tension-filled encounters to mutual respect, then love. Lots of witty banter, hidden vulnerability from Lucius, and a surprisingly soft, romantic confession at the end.

Title: Charm

Warning: None, lucius being lucius

Words Count: 2000+

Masterlist

---

The Ministry of Magic was a labyrinth of enchantment and bureaucracy, a place where power dynamics shifted like the tides. Y/n Y/l/n, a strong-willed witch and a respected potion master in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, had learned to navigate its complexities with grace and determination. Her talent and hard work had earned her respect, but it was her unwavering spirit that truly set her apart.

As she walked through the bustling atrium, she could feel the gazes of her colleagues—some filled with admiration, others tinged with envy. Y/n had always found herself on the fringes, content to focus on her work rather than engage in the political machinations that often defined life at the Ministry. Yet, it was the whispers of a certain silver-blonde wizard that broke through her concentrated bubble.

“Good morning, Y/n,” Lucius Malfoy greeted her, his voice smooth and dripping with charm. He leaned casually against a pillar, the epitome of aristocratic elegance. “I must say, your dedication to your work is admirable. Most would have crumbled under the pressures of this place by now.”

Y/n glanced up, her brow slightly raised. “And yet here I am, standing tall,” she replied coolly, matching his tone. “Flattery won’t earn you any favors with me, Malfoy.”

“Flattery?” He chuckled softly, his icy blue eyes twinkling with amusement. “I merely speak the truth. Your determination is commendable.”

Her heart raced as she held his gaze, the playful banter igniting something within her that she hadn’t expected. She had long since learned to see through his polished facade, understanding that behind the charm lay a man accustomed to getting what he wanted. But Y/n had never been one to succumb easily.

“Save your compliments for someone who might appreciate them,” she said, her voice firm. “I’m not interested in becoming another feather in your cap, Lucius.”

A flicker of surprise crossed his face, quickly masked by his usual composure. “Is that so? I find it refreshing, really. Most women seem eager to bask in my attention.”

“That says more about them than it does about you,” she shot back, walking past him with purpose. She felt the heat of his gaze on her back, and she couldn’t help but smile to herself.

Days turned into weeks, and their encounters became a familiar rhythm, a dance of words and glances laced with underlying tension. Y/n would catch herself thinking of Lucius more often than she cared to admit. He intrigued her with his intellect, challenged her with his wit, and made her question her own perceptions of power and vulnerability.

Lucius, on the other hand, found himself drawn to her in ways he had never anticipated. The thrill of their verbal sparring ignited a fire within him, and he began to look forward to their encounters. No one else had dared to challenge him so boldly, and he found her spirit intoxicating. It was a contrast to the women he had known, who had often been content to admire him from afar.

One particularly dreary afternoon, Y/n found herself in the Ministry’s expansive library, surrounded by stacks of books as she searched for an elusive potion recipe. The dim light cast a warm glow over the dusty volumes, creating an atmosphere of quiet reflection. She was so engrossed in her task that she barely noticed Lucius approaching until she felt his presence beside her.

“Lost in thought again?” he asked, his voice smooth and teasing.

Y/n glanced up, suppressing a smile. “Just doing some research. What brings you here, Malfoy? Surely you have more important matters to attend to.”

He leaned against the table, arms crossed, his gaze fixed on her. “I could say the same for you. Researching potions when you could be enjoying the finer things in life?” His smirk was infuriatingly charming.

“I enjoy what I do,” she replied defensively, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks. “Not everyone needs the thrill of high society to find fulfillment.”

“Touché,” he said, amusement flickering in his eyes. “But wouldn’t it be better to have a little fun? Life is far too short to be buried in books, even if they are as fascinating as you make them seem.”

Y/n straightened, her eyes narrowing. “You mean the kind of fun that leads to empty flirtations and false promises? No, thank you. I prefer to keep my life meaningful.”

Lucius’s expression softened slightly, his facade slipping ever so slightly. “I admire your conviction, Y/n. It’s refreshing to see someone who knows what they want.”

Their eyes locked, the air between them thick with unspoken words. Y/n felt a flutter in her chest, a spark of something deeper than mere attraction. But she quickly quelled it, reminding herself of the walls she had built around her heart.

As weeks turned into months, their encounters grew more charged. Lucius began to seek her out more frequently, often finding reasons to linger near her office or cross paths in the halls. Each meeting was a mixture of tension and exhilaration, a game of verbal chess where neither was willing to yield.

One day, as they walked through the Ministry gardens during a rare moment of respite, the sun filtering through the leaves, Lucius turned to Y/n with a seriousness that caught her off guard. “You know, there’s more to me than what you see on the surface.”

She raised an eyebrow, curiosity piquing her interest. “Is that so?”

“Many view me as simply a wealthy, influential pureblood wizard,” he continued, his voice low. “But I’ve faced my share of struggles, Y/n. I’ve fought against expectations and the shadows of my past. It’s exhausting, and I wonder sometimes if anyone sees beyond the facade.”

Y/n felt a pang of empathy for him, understanding that beneath his charming exterior lay a man grappling with his identity. “I can relate to that,” she admitted softly. “I’ve often felt the weight of expectations myself. People assume they know me, but they rarely take the time to understand who I am.”

He paused, their eyes locking as a shared vulnerability lingered between them. “Perhaps that’s why I find you so compelling. You challenge me, push me to question who I am and what I truly want.”

“Is that what this is?” she asked, a hint of uncertainty in her voice. “A challenge?”

“Perhaps,” Lucius replied, a smile tugging at his lips. “But it’s more than that. I’m beginning to realize that I want to know you—really know you.”

Y/n’s heart raced, and she felt the heat of his gaze. “Lucius, this isn’t—”

“It’s not just a game,” he interjected, stepping closer. “I’m not asking for a fling; I’m asking for something real. I want to explore this connection we have, to see where it leads.”

His sincerity struck a chord deep within her, and for the first time, she felt the walls she had built begin to crumble. But fear still lingered, casting a shadow over her heart. “What if we ruin what we have?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Then we will face the consequences together,” he assured her, a determined gleam in his eyes. “But I’d rather take that risk than live a life filled with regrets.”

Their eyes held for a moment longer, the world around them fading away. Lucius’s heart raced, anticipation mingling with hope. He had never felt so vulnerable, so exposed, but he knew he couldn’t walk away. Not now.

“Okay,” she said finally, her resolve wavering. “Let’s see where this takes us.”

With that, their relationship began a delicate transformation. They spent more time together, sharing moments both grand and intimate, navigating the complexities of their lives with newfound honesty. Y/n discovered layers to Lucius that no one else had seen—the thoughtful, introspective man hidden behind the mask of privilege and power.

In quiet moments, they would share laughter and stories, and Y/n found herself enjoying Lucius’s company more than she had ever imagined. He would often watch her with an intensity that made her heart race, as if he were trying to memorize every detail. In turn, Y/n began to see glimpses of vulnerability in Lucius, moments where he let his guard down and revealed the man he truly was beneath the polished surface.

But despite the growing bond between them, doubt occasionally crept in. Y/n couldn’t shake the feeling that Lucius was still bound by the expectations of his past, the weight of his family legacy hovering over them. It was a nagging thought that made her question the foundation of their connection.

One evening, while attending a Ministry gala, Y/n stood by the window, gazing out at the stars. The ballroom buzzed with laughter and conversation, but she felt out of place amidst the opulence. Lucius approached her, his presence grounding her in a way that soothed her insecurities.

“Why so pensive?” he asked, his voice a low murmur as he joined her at the window.

“I don’t belong here,” she admitted, her gaze still fixed on the horizon. “These people… they don’t see me. They only see my title, my work.”

Lucius turned to face her, a seriousness etched on his features. “You belong here just as much as anyone else, Y/n. You’ve earned your place through hard work and talent.”

“Do you really think so?” she asked, turning to meet his gaze.

“Absolutely,” he replied, sincerity resonating in his voice. “You have a strength that commands respect. I admire that.”

She felt warmth bloom in her chest, a flutter of hope igniting. “Thank you, Lucius. That means more than you know.”

He studied her for a moment, the weight of his thoughts hanging in the air. “There’s something I need to confess.”

Y/n’s heart raced as she sensed the gravity of his words. “What is it?”

“I’m falling for you, Y/n,” he admitted, his voice steady yet vulnerable. “In a way that I never thought I could again. It terrifies me because I know my past is complicated, but you make me want to be better.”

Her breath caught in her throat, and she felt her heart swell at his honesty. “Lucius…”

He took a step closer, his eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that sent shivers down her spine. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone—not even Narcissa. You challenge me in a way that makes me want to shed my past and become someone worthy of you.”

Tears prickled at the corners of her eyes as she fought against the emotions flooding her heart. “I didn’t expect to feel this way either. You’ve surprised me.”

“Then let’s surprise each other,” he said softly, reaching for her hand. “Let’s build something real together.”

In that moment, the world around them faded into oblivion, leaving only the two of them and the connection that had blossomed between them. Y/n felt a surge of warmth as Lucius intertwined their fingers, a gentle yet firm grip that spoke volumes of his intentions.

“Okay,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. “Let’s take this journey together.”

With their hearts laid bare, Y/n and Lucius stepped into a new chapter of their lives, one filled with uncertainty but also hope. They faced challenges head-on, navigating the complexities of their emotions and the scrutiny of those around them. Together, they forged a bond that transcended the expectations of their pasts, proving that love could flourish even in the most unexpected places.

As the seasons changed, so did their relationship. They shared stolen moments in quiet corners of the Ministry, laughter echoing in the hallways as they exchanged witty banter. Lucius began to show her the parts of himself he had long hidden, revealing his vulnerabilities and fears. Y/n, in turn, opened up about her aspirations and dreams, her passion for potions igniting new conversations between them.

One crisp autumn evening, as they walked through the vibrant foliage of the Ministry gardens, Lucius paused, his expression serious yet tender. “Y/n, I want to take this to the next level. You’re not just a challenge anymore; you’re the woman I want by my side.”

She stopped, her heart racing as she searched his eyes. “What do you mean?”

“I want to be with you, truly,” he said, his voice steady. “I’m ready to leave the past behind and build a future together.”

Tears welled in Y/n’s eyes as his words washed over her, a wave of relief and joy flooding her heart. “Lucius, I… I want that too.”

In that moment, surrounded by the golden hues of autumn, they embraced their love fully, ready to face whatever challenges awaited them. Lucius brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, his gaze softening as he leaned closer. “Then let’s make it official.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, confusion mingling with excitement.

Lucius smiled, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes. “I mean, I want you to be my partner in every sense. I want to show you off, to declare to the world that you’re mine.”

Her heart swelled with warmth, and she couldn’t help but laugh, a joyful sound that echoed through the garden. “I would like that very much.”

“Then it’s settled,” he declared, a triumphant smile gracing his lips. “Prepare yourself, Y/n Y/l/n, for a life filled with love, laughter, and perhaps a little mischief.”

And as they walked hand in hand, Lucius realized that he had finally found what he had been searching for—a love that was genuine, transformative, and utterly real. In Y/n, he saw the reflection of a future he had never dared to dream of, one where they could conquer the world together.

[dykesynthezoid]

I think the funniest thing about scogan to me is that if you try to imagine it in practice it actually ends up much more compellingly fulfilling some of the tropes that the comics have seemingly always been trying to push with Jean/Logan. Which is just. Hilarious. Like the supposed (very old, tired, romance novel ass) dynamic they’ve often tried to push w Jean/Logan (esp in the new xmen era) is that of Logan representing some sort of… wildness or freedom to Jean’s restraint. That her “giving in” (yuck) to him is also her embracing… idk? Some sort of more natural, unrestrained version of herself and her power.

But it falls really flat with Jean not just bc of the misogyny inherent in the trope but also bc. She’s literally already done that. Like several times in fact. It’s sort of her whole thing. She doesn’t need to fuck Logan to step into her unrestrained power. She already, as a character, is supposed to be a vibrant, impossible, wild manifestation of pure creative/destructive will. (And really it’s kind of everyone else— and the writers’ latent misogyny— that keep fucking that up for her).

Scott on the other hand. Well. He kind of is the high powered female romantic lead obsessed with her job who gets sent on a work trip to a rural town where she’s forced to loosen up a little. Like for better or worse that’s kind of exactly him. He would fit alarmingly well in that sort of push and pull storyline. Which is so… good to me. That Scott, of all people, makes more sense on the cover of a Johanna Lindsey novel than Jean does. That him having that kind of dynamic with Logan actually feels way more interesting bc Scott is restrained to a fault, he is an insufferable, neurotic little headcase who would rather die than tell a waiter they got his order wrong. And yet he’s also the guy who’s admitted to actively enjoying riling Logan up bc part of him just wants to see what will happen. Which I’m pretty sure is called chemistry

[hazbinhotelxreader]

Hello, could you do an Emily X cat!reader? Romantic, sfw? Please?

Also I love your stuff, it is so good! I will eat it for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

A/n: thanks! Air is on my plate rn🍽️. So I’m suspecting the readers sorta anamorphic? That’s probably the case. I did headcannons since I don’t have an idea for a oneshot!

-Romantic

-SFW

Emily x GN cat reader!

-The first time you too met was when you first arrived to Heaven. Since it’s Emily’s job to keep everyone happy in Heaven, she greets every person who comes through the gates of heaven.

-When she saw you, she was overjoyed by your cuteness. She wanted to pet and touch your soft fur so bad, but had to hold herself back to not be rude. So she stuck to complimenting you, which you appreciated.

-You couldn’t help but admire how she’s always able to stay positive and happy, it’s a struggle in humans. She was also adorable in your case too, you were a but insecure at first by your new appearance, being a cat anamorphic now, it was strange. But Emily helped you grow comfortable in your new skin.

-Now, she started to check in with you much more often than she regularly does with other ‘winners’, so you two got to know each other along the way, and later start crushing on each other like a highschool romance movie.

-She’s definitely going to be physically affectionate with you once your close friends. Expect many unexpected hugs. She loves the feeling of your soft fur, so she’ll hug you as often as she can. You don’t mind, most of the time at least.

-I’d say you two would date in private at first, since she is a high member seraphim and is expected to act a certain way. Her job is to make other feel joy, not be in a relationship all the time.

-You let her do her job in the day time, and act like your friends only around others. But when you get to her room, instant cuddles. Or more like you literally climb on top of her and snuggle into her like an actual cat does.

-Even if her job is too just keep everyone happy in heaven, it’s stressful. Imagine having to keep millions or more of people happy around hell, it’s difficult. So she always loves to snuggle with you in bed, your fur is so warm and your purring always calms her down.

-Speaking of purring, she loves making you pur! Her job is to literally make others happy, and hearing you pur is proof she’s doing well.

-Since your a cat, you love pets, you can’t deny it. So she’ll definitely be petting you behind the ears, under your chin or on your back.

-She knows which spots she shouldn’t touch too. Like your tail, or your underbelly. She learned the hard way, unfortunately. Once time she was petting you and she just wanted to touch your tail, so so bad. So she grabbed it which sorta spooked you, and you scratched her out of defense. You were apologizing like crazy to her that day, and she just said it’s fine.

-Definitely has a couch near the window for you. You probably like sunlight and warmth, so she makes sure to put the couch right under the window that lets in the most sunlight.

-She’d find it hilarious if you like playing with cat toys or pet like objects. If you do, she’ll be throwing a yarn ball across the house for at least an hour.

-And if you like yarn, you like lasers. On nights when she’s bored and can’t fall asleep, she’ll take out the laser pointer, and then she’s got free entertainment with you trying to catch that red dot.

-Overall she’s pretty much a perfect girl for a cat like you, trust me she’ll adore you like your god himself

[nearest-dearest]

The String (Wally x reader)

After reading a story to Julie, the rainbow monster is dead set on finding her soulmate and you tagged along without much of a choice in that matter.

🍎🎀🍎🎀🍎🎀🍎🎀

“Awe! How romantic!” Julie swoons after you just finished reading to her. More specifically the part about how the two main characters found each other through the red string of fate. Where soulmates are connected by a red string tied to their finger. The red string is strong too, it may twist, tangle but it will never break. And all this info came from the new romance book you ordered last week and wanted to share it with Julie.

Julie suddenly gasps “Do you think I could find my soulmate through the red string?”

You couldn’t help but let out a little laugh “I’m sure you can Julie, but only if you can see the red string though.”

“Fear not dear neighbor! For I have a plan!”

And that’s how you ended up outside Julie’s house. A red string tied to your own finger while Julie does the same to herself.

“Julie, I’m not sure this will help us find our soulmates.” You voiced your concerns before she can enact her plan of throwing her red ball of yarn to any “lucky” passerby that could catch it.

“This is just a theory! Don’t worry (Y/n) dear. Who knows, maybe your string could land on Wally!”

The last sentence had you sputtering your words. “What?! Why would you say that? You’re making it sound like I like him! I mean, I like everyone in the neighborhood, including Wally. But it’s not like I like, like him!” You said all of that so fast that you ended up taking a deep breath after you’re done.

Meanwhile, that knowing smirk on Julie’s face never left, but okay, she’ll play your game “Sure (Y/n), I’ll drop it, but it could happen.

Should’ve known it wouldn’t be easy for her to fully drop it. Now you’re wondering what could’ve happened if you hadn’t blushed or stared during Wally’s little singing two weeks ago. Ever since Julie found out, she hasn’t stopped alluding to it when the two of you are alone. And when the others are there, she carries on as if she knew nothing. At least she’s great at keeping a secret. But you couldn’t really find a fault within you to like Wally. The painter is already attractive, he’s also talented and charming and you always find an aura of calm and serenity whenever you’re with him.

And as your silly little crush grew, so did how Wally make you feel. One moment you feel serenity and the next feeling is confusion. You don’t know if this is love or just infatuation. Is it because he’s so. . .

Mysterious?

You know Wally like any other friend you had, but there’s something about Wally that makes you want to know more. But will he ever allow it? Does he even like you the way you like him?

“Awe, (Y/n) Vandermeer. Of course, Wally likes you!” Julie suddenly says.

You paused. . .

“Wait! Was I saying all of that out loud?!”

“Unfortunately, yes. So, you do like Wally!”

“I—” You sigh out your defeat. There’s no denying it anymore.

“Nothing to be ashamed of neighbor! After this experiment, you’re sure to know whether Wally likes you or not!”

“Again, Julie, I don’t think this is how it works.”

“You never know until you try! Now let’s look for our soulmates!” Julie is the first to throw her yarn, and it landed on. . .

A rock!

Julie skipped her way to the rock until she was close enough to pick it up. Lovingly staring at the rock like it’s made of gold “Who knew you were so close the entire time!”

You shook your head at the display, but the smile on your face suggests a playful expression and tone.

“Now it’s your turn (Y/n)! Go find your soulmate!” Julies calls back to you.

You stared at the ball of yarn in your hand. The hesitancy kept you from throwing it. Although, it may land on a rock as well, and you and Julie can have a laugh about it. Everyone in the neighborhood is inside their houses or backyard. It seems like a safe and shame free action. With a deep breath, you got ready to throw it as far as you can. In the count of 3. . . 2. . . 1. Off goes the yarn in the air. Landing on. . . It landed on nothing, it just kept going and rolling away.

“Uh, I’ll be back Julie!” And with that, you began chasing the ball as it unravels. This is one good bunch of yarn; it’d be a waste to just leave it all behind. Let alone just leave it littered— Okay! How long is this yarn?! It goes on forever! You better catch up soon, the ball is getting smaller too.

Then the yarn stops.

Finally.

And it stopped by. . .

Wally’s feet.

Oh no

You suddenly felt your legs freeze to a halt on the spot. As for Wally, he picked up the ball of yarn to examine it. Then he looked up and met your gaze. Wally smiles.

“Ah! Hello neighbor, is this yours?” Wally offered the ball of yarn.

“Hi Wally! Yes, it is, thanks.” You say in a fast speed, hoping he doesn’t ask about what you were doing.

“No problem! If I may ask, what were you doing?”

Plan failed.

“Uh, nothing much! Just helping Julie with a knitting project, that’s all!” Great plan, just lie like second nature why don’t you?

Wally gave a little laugh “No need to lie (Y/n), you can tell me! I won’t judge.”

Darn, he’s so perceptive it’s endearing!

“Okay then.” You caved in, it’s been a long day and you don’t feel like dodging anymore. “Julie thought she could find her soulmate using the red string of fate, and thought it was also a good idea to help me find my soulmate too.”

“Soulmate?” Wally wonders.

“Yeah, now if you’ll excuse me I gotta go now.” You started taking your leave, at least you tried to. Because the sudden feeling of Wally’s hand holding yours had freezing like ice.

“Wait! Can I just do something first?” Wally asks.

“Uh sure?” Still feeling a little flustered that Wally held your hand, you ended up mindlessly agreeing to his request. You couldn’t even see what he was doing because you were too busy looking down to cool down the heat on your cheeks.

“Done!” Wally announced.

“Wait, really? That was. . . Fast.”

If you weren’t red already, then you sure look like one big giant apple. Wally had tied the other end of the yarn. On his pinky finger.

“And to make it easier for us.” Wally then snapped the extra thread with the blade he uses to sharpen his pencil.

“Don’t take the string off your finger. Okay Neighbor?”

Were Wally’s last words before walking away to Home.

Leaving you flustered and quiet from where you stand.

And giving a Julie in hiding pride over the outcome “All according to plan.”

All according to plan indeed Julie.

All According to plan.

[ecargmura]

Dandadan Episode 8 Review - One Ball Down, One More To Go

There is something I would like to talk about now that I watched this episode. I think an interesting thing about Dandadan is the fact that the girls feel more like male shounen characters, but in a good way? Like, Momo feels like one of those rude shounen MCs and Aira is her rival, but they still feel like girls, but with male shounen character tropes. Okarun, on the other hand, feels like if Momo is a male shounen MC, he’d be the female love interest who’s shy but wants to get stronger so that she can be of use to her crush. Aira would be the rival character who is both similar but also different from the MC but is also involved with the female love interest whether it be romantically or not—in her case, she has a crush on Okarun. Seiko would be the MC’s mentor and Turbo Granny is the mascot character. Maybe it’s just me who thinks this way?

Why I say this is because the story really likes to make Okarun’s nutsacks be a part of a fanservice jokes like how people would always talk about a female character’s boobs. In fact, no one ever mentions boobs in this story—well, the only time they were mentioned was back in Episode 1 where Turbo Granny was asking if Okarun wanted to suckle hers. Other than that it has always been balls, whether they be golden or baseballs. The whole plot is about finding Okarun’s balls and even in this episode, the creepy aliens are after them. Like what Okarun said, WHY IS EVERYTHING AFTER HIS JUNK?

To be honest, even though Aira is revealed to be a kind person underneath her narcissism, delusion cannot be doused with character development. Even after everything that transpired in the previous episode, Aira still thinks Momo is a demon and that Okarun and Seiko are her cronies. Despite that, she develops a crush on Okarun and promises to save him from Momo’s spell. I honestly think she’s one of the funniest characters in this story because of how deluded she is. It’s so hilarious because the story really knows how to make her so funny. The way she was arguing with Momo with her mouth stuffed with noodles got me cackling. 

I also liked the part where Aira confesses to Okarun and tells him that it’s a man’s responsibility to accept the confession. Okarun is confused as heck and asked where she learned all that. It turns out that Aira learned about romance through her father’s porn stash. That got me cackling because I’m sure there are instances where girls learn about adult stuff. Heck, even I was reading very raunchy stories and looking at obscene pictures when I was a teenager, so I get her curiosity for the adult world. Though, I didn’t become deluded like Aira… The misunderstanding with Momo that occurred afterwards did hurt to watch, but I know it’ll get resolved later on because Momo does jump into conclusions first before thinking things through.

Another part of the comedy that I like was the sudden transition to baseball as Turbo Granny throws the golden ball back into Okarun. The best part about this sequence is Seiko swinging her bat as if she was the batter. I got a good laugh out of that sequence. I know Japan loves baseball, but I did NOT expect that it would be a way for him to get his ballsack back into his body.

While the episode was mainly comedy, I did like how it instantly transitioned into the serious, paranormal stuff instantaneously. Like, the kids are still in school and suddenly, an alien trapped them in their domain. They’re separated too. Momo is by herself in a place filled with water as some sort of dinosaur-like creature appears to shoot laser beams. Given that Flatwoods Monster was shown in episode 2 and that urban legends do exist in this story, does that mean this aquatic plesiosaur creature is the Loch Ness Monster?

With Okarun and Aira, they encounter the Serpoians. I was worried that they might go after Aira, but their target is actually Okarun as they want his junk because they believe it’s magical. I’m actually surprised that alien harassment goes for both genders in this story because usually, the author would make it so they attack only females. That’s pretty rare. Also, what’s with the crab alien with the boxing gloves? What sort of song is it singing?

The anime continues with high quality casting as Tomokazu Seki joins the cast as the crab alien with the boxing gloves. If you’re not familiar with him, Seki voices Kougami from Psycho-pass and Sanemi Shinazugawa from Demon Slayer. Kazuya Nakai returns as all three Serpoians. Though, Seki’s character has little screen-time other than him singing. I do hope it gets more screen time in the next episode. Also, Ayane Sakura’s deep voice in her youkai form was excellent. Wow.

Oh, and I’ve watched this episode in both Japanese and English dub and both versions are really great. I have to make a shout out to AJ Beckles who voices Okarun. I really liked the exasperation his voice had when he learned about Aira studying about romance through magazines and other stuff in her father’s study. I know that there’s a sub vs dub debate in the western anime community, but I think it’s all stupid. I think dubbed anime is getting better in recent years when there’s good direction and voice actors. Dandadan is filled with both.

I honestly can’t wait to see what the next episode has to offer as it seems that the group is dealing with the supposed Loch Ness Monster, the crab alien and the Serpoians all at once. I can’t wait to see how it all plays out and if it’ll be paced well. What are your thoughts on this episode?

[mermaidsirennikita]

I feel I should say I’m one of those people who read Wuthering Heights as a full-grown adult and was like, “How in the hell is this romantic? Cathy married someone else to get away from Heathcliff, and then her murderous ghost kills him for what he did to her children.”

To only focus on young Cathy and Heathcliff’s doomed romance is to seriously miss the point of the book.

I don't think the novel was ever intended to be romantic (... in a conventional sense), but it has a very compelling romantic relationship between two people that influenced later straightforward fictional love stories, which is why it is what it is today.

However, I will disagree on the take on Cathy's motives for marrying Linton. She doesn't marry Linton to escape Heathcliff; she marries Linton to go TO a level of status that she does not currently have. She does love Linton, in her way, and appreciates the gentleness and stability her offers.

However, Cathy does not present Heathcliff as someone she "will not" marry when explaining her mindset to Nelly. She presents him as someone she CANNOT marry because he's too "low" for her. At this point, he doesn't have the wealth he'll have when he comes back, and I would also say: Heathcliff is NOT the degree of fucked up that he is when he returns. He's super abused and angry... but he's a teenager. He doesn't have shit. He's not angry at Cathy the way he is when he returns, because though he knows she's heading towards something with Linton and is acting differently, she has not married Linton YET. He's possessive of her, but the relationship is not in the place that it is in when he returns from his mysterious absence.

If Heathcliff was not low, Cathy would quite possibly (probably?) marry him. Her big speech is telling Nelly that she loves both men, but her "pretty" love for Linton will fade. Her love for Heathcliff is an "ugly" love, but it is enduring and will always endure. Cathy doesn't see him as something to run from as a person; she sees him as an extension of herself. Catherine and Heathcliff, especially Catherine because she dies so young, lack separate identities. They are basically one person growing up—and in fact, at points Catherine is the worse one, as she takes part, as a child, in the abuse of Heathcliff before growing to love him. (I mean, she's a child motivated in part by jealousy... but still.) She's also manipulative , abusive to Nelly (the "help"), and basically puts on a good face to Edgar Linton that disguises how fucked up she actually is.

Catherine Earnshaw is essentially denying her actual self (not necessarily her best self, but who she is at her core) when she marries Linton. She is turning her back on whatever identity she has, however fractured and enmeshed with Heathcliff's it may be.

Catherine has become somewhat tamed when Heathcliff returns, and she's fully aware of how bad his behavior is (see: Isabella Linton). But that doesn't mean she doesn't want him around. She wants him and Linton to settle their conflict, she wants him to be "her" Heathcliff again (versus who he is when he returns successful and even more embittered) and it reads as very "have my cake and eat it too". Which is consistent with the selfishness that seems inherent to her even in childhood.

She wants her marriage to Linton. She also wants Heathcliff to settle down (emotionally speaking... not with another woman lol) so that she doesn't have to worry about their conflict anymore and clearly has much more passion for Heathcliff. Her death is linked in part to that passion; she's mentally ill, she's stressed about Linton barring her from Heathcliff, she's not eating and isolating herself, all while pregnant. She declares her love for him right before she dies and basically gives him shit for like... not at the same time... because she can't handle the idea of him being alive when she's not. She basically screams at him to stay with her when he's about to dip because Linton is returning from his errand (while Nelly sits there like OH FUCK OH FUCK OH FUCK as her super pregnant and super dying mistress like... basically makes out with Heathcliff.... and her husband is heading up the stairs about to burst into the room....).

And Heathcliff in turn wastes away (maybe self-starvation?) because he wants to be with Cathy's ghost. The description of his corpse indicates that he looks happy to die and be with Cathy. I don't think her ghost killed him by any means—but if she did, it was exactly what both of them wanted. Eternity together in death.

I mean, who knows what Catherine Earnshaw would've bene like as a mom to Cathy II. But I kind of highly doubt she would've been a good one. As soon as Heathcliff was back on the scene, she started denying her husband and obsessing over him, and if she'd made it past the birth, I don't think that would've changed at all. Catherine is, from jump, a shitty person, and I feel that her ability to be shitty and passionate and very much a partial architect of her own destruction (mutually with Heathcliff, and she in turn his a mutual architect of his downfall like, she and Heathcliff are essentially planning their long game suicide pact in their last scene together lol... and it's Heathcliff's bitterness and determination for vengeance that keeps him dying sooner, versus a lack of desire to be dead with Cathy) is what makes Catherine such a fabulous character.

Heathcliff is a horrible person, but Catherine isn't THAT much better, and she does not seem to truly WANT to be that much better when we take away what she thinks she should be.

[golfishwiththebigeyes]

long disjointed farcille thoughts

I’m so farcille-pilled and I have thoughts, mainly one thought and that is that the events of dungeon meshi have made Marcille a much more fitting partner for Falin. As much as I adore them pre-canon, I think they would not have been good together as they were before. We see in the early story Marcille is, for lack of a better term, kind of a control freak. That’s just her nature, and it makes a lot of sense given her backstory, she’s had to grapple with something out of her control from a very young age-her loved ones dying- so of course she’d be very protective over what she does have control over. This would be fine on it’s own, but Falin, especially before the events of the story, is sooo non confrontational, she’s so gentle and tries not to rock the boat, which also makes a lot of sense given her backstory! But as we see even in bonus materials, Marcille has a pretty solid trap of what she likes and what she wants, and she doesn’t usually take well to that being challenged. Falin is the opposite in every facet. While this makes them great friends, I feel like it just wouldn’t lend itself well to a romantic relationship, especially when you also factor in the fact that romance is another thing Marcille is very set in her ways about. And then Falin gets eaten. 

And boom, suddenly Marcille cannot be in her comfort zone anymore, she has to eat gross things, branch out in her magic and teaching to try her best to fill Falin’s place, and, most damning of all, ultimately give up a power that would let her enforce what she thinks is best with no issue. Marcille’s arc, or one of her big ones, is about coming to terms with things being out of her control and learning to just appreciate being alive, worrying more about making the most of what’s left instead of desperately chasing what could be. 

And while the crux of this post was why the events of the story make Marcille a much better partner for Falin than she would have been otherwise, Falin’s character and development (which, by the way, Ryoko Kui you genius how could you so brilliantly give an entire arc to a character who is comparatively not very present in the story, augh Falin’s haunting of the narrative is so good and Falin herself is written so beautifully) by the end of the story are very good for the possible future Farcille. As more and more information has come out, like Falin’s post-canon talk with Toshiro, we see that Falin’s second resurrection has given her a new kind of confidence and security about herself and her place in the world. In everything from her eyes being open to the clothes that she chooses to her body language, in all the post-canon material we can see so clearly that she is so much happier and genuine with herself, mask off, and that in and of itself is so wonderful. And that, by extension, allows her to be a much more open partner and in a much better space to be in a long term relationship.

The events of the story, a story which stresses the validity of desire and potential, have allowed these two women who adore each other to fulfill their true potential both apart and together, and that’s wonderful to me.

[fumifooms]

You're always so on point with your posts. On that note, it made me realize that; Considering the themes of desires in DunMeshi. It's also to say that what you think you want isn't what you actually want.

Like, Marcille thinks she wants the handsome prince from the novels she reads... But what she actually wants is someone maybe more like her father who she admired so much. Kind, virtuous, caring to a fault, a family man. Things she later finds in Chilchuck.

Because as traumatizing as it was to see her mother's spiral after her father's death; Her memories of her father itself are some of the most important to her. And it fits with her pursuit to increase her loved ones' lives, because she does want what her mother and father had.

Sipping. I do go over ‘what you think you want vs what you actually want + what you need’ in my (upcoming) Marcille & Chil arc analysis ;) It’s a part of Dunmeshi that I really like and is super fascinating, I’d honestly like to make an analysis-post on the topic: all the different threads and characters in canon that reflect that, desires vs wants and themes of idealization in Dunmeshi, but it’s one of those things that’s just so huge to make. See this is the freaking problem with doing Dunmeshi meta you start talking about the themes or a narrative and everything is so interwoven you get distracted with tangents BUT IT’S ALL COMPELLING AND RELEVANT

I know that’s something laimar does a lot too, the dad thing, with Marcille in a post-canon comic knitting beside him paralleling her parents and whatnot. I don’t know if I fully agree on the angle but there’s definitely stuff to dig at there…

Like I know that I’d like to analyze Marcille’s succubus more, it comes up in my analysis draft but it’s not the point I’m trying to make there so I focus on other stuff but… I always saw the focus of Marcille’s succubus as that she sought out an emotional connection most of all, it’s romantic and courtly in nature but more importantly there’s personality and behavior there and it’s a character she already loves and knows deeply from having read the series, so it’s not like Chil where it’s just a pretty face whose identity doesn’t matter. A friend of mine though, @room-surprise, goes with the angle that it shows she isn’t ready for a relationship and that the appeal is very self-centered, and I def think compelling points are made…

Point I was trying to make, the succubus is definitely at the crux of figuring what it is Marcille wants and craves in someone I’d say, where she’s emotionally at wether consciously or subconsciously, or how she sees herself being involved in romance at least… It’s true Marcille is enthusiastic about romance, but always someone else’s, never hers, and she seems unwilling to examine her own relationships with people. She oversteps boundaries either obliviously or carelessly and doesn’t like change…

And then there’s how complex people’s relationship to fiction can be on top of that and graaaaah

Edit in bc I forgot I wanted to mention this like an idiot: OH and I do think the Daltian Clan serves a role in the general tapestry of Dunmeshi as well, sometimes in in depth ways that Room-Surprise will tackle in their research paper way better than me I’m sure. My understanding of the importance of general Hagreus in a more general narrative sense is that he reinforces the theme of idealization/fantasy vs reality that’s super present through the manga. Beyond just Marcille’s arc and his importance to her he’s designed uncannily close to Mithrun, it parallels real elves and their very flawed military system and the broken people it cultivates vs the romanticized elves put on an aesthetic pedestral in novels, especially considering it’s "general" Hareus

To give some previews of the analysis wip: Thus the succubus targets Marcille’s wish for a perfect knight who could cherish her forevermore, someone safe and known and fantastical, just hers in a way, free to see and construct however she wants because he’s a character to interpret Dungeon Meshi is in part about resisting desires, the irrational cravings, mostly through the character of the demon. I mentioned needs earlier, and to ideals vs wants we also add vs needs, both emotional and physical. And needs alongside wants are what Dungeon Meshi wishes to promote for a healthier person. Dungeon Meshi illustrates very well with the dungeon lords that you can be a slave to your desires. Dunmeshi prones the important of balance for both a healthy body and a healthy mind, and the arc of optimism vs pessimism with Marcille & Chilchuck is one such case <3

Ouuuugh how flawed relationships with flawed people can still be made into somehing good and healthy that make the world brighter…

We’ve gone far from the topic of how her family shaped what she seeks in relationships haha, I think you put it well already though I don’t have much to add on that front Edit in 2: SIKE! I’ll add that there’s an interesting thread in the manga of Marcille maturing and becoming more like her mother, which would be interesting and fun to pair with the fatherhood of Chil. Because Marcille is sometimes a mother figure as well: she’s the mom friend. I go over it here, and since when I made that post I’ve seen more interesting analysis on the topic too, like noticing she hides behind her mother’s portrait in the nightmare chapter, perhaps the inspiration behind her more mature reserved academic persona she sometimes has. Her parents are def important to her so it’s interesting to see how all the dynamics and her own psychology fit into that….

But yeah I think what she (thinks she) wants out of romance has a lot of layers, both conscious and subconscious… I haven’t gone into the bigger picture of how fiction affects her relationships here but it’s the central topic of my Marcille & Chil arc analysis so. She idealizes the trope of the prince charming and finds it attractive but is that what she would actually latch onto… Is it fully superficial, is it more about herself than it is about her potential partner... Is it mainly because she wants to get validation, from being special that she typically gets from high academic performance… We do see she can be rather insecure and worried about others’ perspective of her, that they think she’s not useful or capable enough, especially in the mandrake chapter… Unconditional love perhaps

What is your emotional landscape Marcille. How emotionally intelligent are you. I don’t think she knows what she wants romantically. I think she has a job so she don’t really care about that rn I’m just not sure if we can figure out what she ~actually~ wants on her behalf that might be too many levels of interpretation but idk idk, thinking on it still

[cloudmancy]

delloso de la rue is such an interesting character to me but I don’t think it’s for any of the reasons that the rest of the fandom likes rue for. oscar played them in such a metatextual way and it’s like, does he know? does he know how complicated and selfish and thoroughly flawed character he ended up creating? ruehob is so... fascinating to me and it’s not because I like the romance of it. there’s just such a twisted rotting core to it when you compare it to chirp & her wife, or even binx & andhera (and it’s FANTASTIC. I wish people didn’t shy away from how truly miserable ruehob is because that’s what I’m into)

it's like. you are delloso de la rue. you are an owlbear, under a spell of glamour. you have chosen to serve the court of wonder and at heart, you are a romantic. this year, you are planning what they say will be the very last bloom, and you are drowning in the narrative perfection of it. 

you do not like the court of wonder. you do not like the duty you hold. you do not like that you are in this pretty, lithe form you have chosen for yourself. but here are things you do like: love, romance, and EXCITEMENT. you meet two lords of the wing and you want to bear witness to love matches so badly that you make a wager for it. you want this to be the last, best bloom. you want this so ardently and selfishly that you are willing to fall for the first person you see who will fit this narrative (star crossed monsters in courts that don't accept them, what could be more perfect?) while ignoring everything you already have - because it's not enough for you. 

you say want love but you HAVE love. you say you want acceptance - but you could have that, too. you don't want love, you want the CONCEPT of love - the kind that people read storybooks about, that little owlbears dream of at night. you want romance. you want to be swept off your feet. you don't want acceptance, because acceptance and love is duty and you are beginning to hate the concept of duty. acceptance is (as hard as a knight pledging themselves to a different court for the sake of someone they love) as easy as realizing that of all the forms that the fae can take an owlbear is nowhere NEAR the most monstrous. the queen of air and darkness isn't even corporeal, half the courtiers of hoof and claw are feral beasts - but that realization is not grand enough for you.

you meet hob and you hold his paws in yours and you tell him (with tears in your eyes, so they sparkle better in the moonlight) that you feel - not alone - for the first time in your life (because it's something someone in a sweeping romance would say) and you (forget wuvvy, who followed you from her own court and accepted everything of who you were and repackaged herself smaller, neater, tidier like you, because that's what you wanted in the court of wonder) tell him that no one will ever use him again (while you use him to satisfy that hungry selfish hole in yourself that demands not LOVE but ROMANCE) because you love (what he represents, could represent for the grand romance of the sweeping fairytale you imagine your life could be if only someone loved you) him.