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cowboydisaster · 2 years ago

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The Fire In Your Eyes

part XI: Horseshoe Overlook vii

pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem!reader

word count: 10.2k

summary: Arthur has to break Micah out of jail, leaving you to work a livestock job with John. Hell breaks loose in Valentine, and once again you're forced to leave or die.

a/n: I love this chapter, angst, fluff, a fight, shootouts!! AH. Also if you speak german, I'm so sorry if I butchered the translations. I tried my best. Also tumblr formatting is a pain in the ass, so im sorry for that too lol

warnings: violence, graphic depictions of violence

beta read by @margowritesthings

series extras

SERIES MASTERPOST

The red, cotton sheets are soft against your skin as you wake up, blinking away the fog of sleep. Sunlight shines in through the french doors, making the room almost too bright as your eyes adjust to the light. But, the most important thing that you notice is the absence of that familiar, solid, warmth beside you. Your head pops up from the pillow, squinting as you scan the room.

“Sorry I didn’t mean to wake ya.” Arthur mumbles, morning voice deep in his chest. Your eyes flicker up to him, buttoning the cuff buttons of his shirt. He glances down at you from his position by the dresser, smiling at your messy hair. The sheets are wrapped around you, leaving your shoulders and back bare, and he runs his eyes over the skin he’d spent all night kissing.

“You were right.” He nods to you, and you sit up on the plush bed, looking down at yourself.

“What?” You ask, looking down over your skin until you see exactly what he means.

“Left a mark or two, like you said.”

“Shit, Arthur.” You sigh, tossing the blankets off of you as you stand and move to the mirror. There's a few off-colored splotches on your neck and collarbone, love bites that Arthur has left you. You inspect them in the mirror, pulling your hair around to see if it will cover the marks. You hear Arthur’s boots against the floor as he walks up behind your bare form.

“To remember me, just till I'm back.” Arthur chuckles, hands finding your waist as he stares at your reflection in the full length mirror. You frown, remembering that today Arthur has to break Micah out of jail. You’ve been enjoying the absence of his loud, foul mouth and stench that follows him like a bad shadow.

"Be careful. Don't do nothin' heroic for that bastard." You say, turning around in his arms to face him.

"For Micah? Course not." Arthur chuckles, leaning down to press a slow, bittersweet kiss to your lips. You know he can handle his own, but the idea of a jail spring in West Elizabeth unnerves you. You lean into him, lips locking for a moment before you pull away.

Your hands rest on his shoulders, and then you slide them to his neckline to straighten the collar of his shirt.

"Be careful, mister." You whisper to him, sighing as he pulls away from you.

“Always am.” He says, and then he’s out the door, on his way to Strawberry for goddamn Micah. It gets under your skin that Dutch is sending him, but you know better than to openly question his decisions.

After the door clicks shut, you take your time getting ready. You put the same clothes on from the previous day, and despite a few wrinkles, they’re good as new. You grab your satchel, gunbelt, and hat, putting yourself together before checking once more over the room and heading out. The stairs creak under your feet as you walk down into the check in area, finding that the familiar hotel clerk is waiting behind the desk.

“Good mornin’ miss, I hope you’ll stay again!” He greets, and you chuckle. Just yesterday he was begging you not to beat anyone to death in his hotel, now he’s asking for you to come back.

“Sure will!” You lie, knowing that you’ll be moving soon, hopefully. You’d like to come back, last night was definitely one of the best in your life, thanks to Arthur and the All Saints Hotel, a deceiving name, you think.

It's warmer than usual when you open the door, and the sun shines down from between the clouds, casting the town in a mix of light and shadows. You stay on the sidewalk, smiling softly at the people you walk past on the way to the gunsmith’s.

It’s nostalgic, going into the gunsmith’s shop. It reminds you of your father, and when you open the door, the smell of freshly polished oak and gun oil mix together, bringing back memories from years ago.

“Ah, your guns are ready, miss!” The smith greets when he hears the bell on the door knob jingle. You step towards the counter, waiting as he puts both pointer fingers in the air before dipping behind an open door into the backroom.

“William did fine work with these, miss! I think you’ll be impressed. He’s damn quick too, they’re ready for ya.” The man yells from behind the wall, and you tap your fingers on the counter in anticipation. After a few moments, he steps around the corner. He places your carbine and revolver down on the counter carefully, and you nearly gasp in awe.

Firstly, the sight of them together, clean, with improved sights, stocks, and barrels is something to admire. They look like a proper set, and you can’t wait to see what they’ll look like on your hip and shoulder.

Your attention goes to your carbine first, and the dark leather stock wrap that beautifully contrasts the silver-colored gun. Stars, large and small, connected by thin dotted lines pattern your gun, engraved into the barrel.

“Wow.” You exhale, tracing your hand over the constellations. The gunsmith smiles, eyes crinkling in the corners.

Then you flicker your eyes to your revolver, and your jaw nearly drops. The same constellations pattern the gun, but on the grip is a howling wolf, head thrown back in a howl amongst the stars. It’s perfect. You clear your throat, realizing you’ve been gawking and stuck in your head.

“Sorry- it’s just that they’re so beautiful…” You say, blushing before reaching into your satchel, “How much do I owe you?” You ask, grabbing a wad of cash out. The gunsmith shakes his head, placing his hand up to stop you.

“These have already been paid for, you’re good to go, miss.”

Your eyebrows pull together in confusion, and the gunsmith speaks up to clarify.

“The feller you came in with yesterday, he stopped by about…” He glances at the clock on the wall, “twenty minutes ago and paid in full.”

Your confused look falls into a huff, and you chew on your cheek,

“Course he did.” You smile. You’ll get Arthur back for this. He does not need to spend any more money on you, let alone something this expensive.

“Looks like it’s your lucky day.” The gunsmith says as you holster your revolver and swing your carbine strap over your shoulder.

“Sure seems to be. Thank you, mister.” You say, turning back towards the door.

He waves as you exit the store, walking back down the street to grab Athena from the hitching post.

— — — —

It’s fairly quiet when you get back to camp, as most of the boys are out working. Charles is out hunting bison, and Javier found some abandoned house up north filled with hillbillies and gold. Arthur has gone to get Micah, and most of the other boys are out on odd jobs and the like.

You hop down from Athena in search of a task to keep yourself busy. Your stomach was flipping the whole ride home, thinking about Micah coming back to camp. It’s been peaceful without him, and you know that as soon as he returns, he’ll break the little balance that the camp has been keeping.

You walk to the campfire, finding a seat on a wolf pelt covered log. It’s plush under you, but nowhere near as soft as the hotel’s bed, and you blush, getting caught up in memories. Hosea sits opposite of you on a wooden folding chair. He’s grinding some herbs together with a mortar and pestle, making a health tonic for his cough, you’re sure.

You blink, startled back to the present as Jack runs past you, giggling loudly with two horseshoes in hand. With a smile, your eyes follow him to where Kieran has hammered a piece of rebar into the ground for the young boy to play horseshoes. You chuckle, eyes returning in front of you. Hosea looks up, eyeing you over quickly.

“Where have you been, dear girl? I’ve missed you in camp.” Hosea says, leaning down to add some water to his mortar.

“Valentine.” You answer, avoiding some of the details. Hosea smirks, eyes stuck on his hands as he works the herbs down.

“And Arthur?” Hosea asks, arching an eyebrow as he focuses. You can see where this is going, and you know Hosea won’t take to any lies, so you don’t even bother.

“He’s in Strawberry, left this morning to get Micah out of jail.” You explain to him. Hosea nods, and he hums as if questioning you.

“What?” You huff, knowing that he has something to say, some odd cents to throw in. Hosea chuckles at your tone, shaking his head.

“Nothing at all, just observing… Neither of you came back last night.” He points out with a knowing look. He’s not chastising or judging you, solely pointing out something he’s noticed. Of course he’s noticed, if anyone were to figure it out, it’d be Hosea.

“C’mon Hosea… leave it be.” You say, voice hushed as to not reach the ears of any lurking gang members.

“Oh, I’m only pickin’. But you know I notice these things.” He says, and you nod. He always notices the little things. Your eyes flicker up to the older man, the softness in his eyes. In the time you’ve been with the gang, he’s treated you with nothing but kindness and respect. He’s treated you like a daughter in a way, and you know you can trust him with conversations like these ones.

“It’s just… after the train, when I thought he was gone, it opened my eyes.” You admit to Hosea, head in your hands. He looks at you with a sparkle in his eyes, a word on his lips.

“The pair of you are a lot like Bessie and I.” Hosea smiles, and you glance up to him.

“You love him.” Hosea states plainly, “It’s clear as day on your face, that worrying after him, that longing. You love him.”

“I– It’s only been-” You begin, but Hosea doesn’t let you stumble out of this one, instead, he speaks up again.

“I'm happy for you two, really, I am. That boy hasn’t had someone takin’ care of him in many a year, I reckon. I reckon you haven’t either.” Hoea says, and you put your head in your hands.

“Is it really all that obvious?” You ask.

“To an old soul like me? Yes.” Hosea smiles, groaning as he stands up from his seat at the fire. He leaves his mortar and pestle on the ground, coming around the campfire to walk towards you.

“My lips are sealed, dear girl. Now go on, John was looking for you. There’s work to be done if we’re gonna get out of here before the law catches our tails.”

“Thanks, Hosea.” You offer as he pats your shoulder lightly.

He sits back down on his chair, taking in the camp’s state before watching you stand up. John is sharpening his knife at the table sometimes used for poker, and you walk towards him with your hands resting on your gun belt, hoping that this job will go better than your last two.

“You were lookin’ for me?” You ask, pulling one of the chairs out and sitting down across from John.

“Yeah you and Arthur. Don’t sit down, we’re goin’ out.” John says, standing up as he sheathes his knife. You can hear the metallic clink of Jack’s horseshoes hitting their pole, alongside Swanson’s drunken rambling as you push the chair back in.

“Arthur’s breakin’ Micah out of jail right now, do you think the two of us can handle it? Whatever it is that we’re doin’.” You say, sighing as you follow John towards the hitching posts.

“Sure we can handle it, we’re only stealin’ sheep.” John chuckles, and you jog after him, confused.

“Sheep? I don’t know about you, but I’m no rancher, John.” You huff, looking at your thoroughbred. She’s not bred to work livestock, and even if she was, you haven’t a clue on how to.

“It can’t be that hard. Wait, shit- we need a rifle with good sights, do you have one?” John asks, and you stop in your tracks, sighing.

“No I don’t have one– Are you sure you have this job planned out right?” You question him, drawing your eyebrows together with some attitude.

“Yes I’m sure, now grab one from Arthur’s weapon’s box. He won’t mind.”

“He definitely will, but I’ll make sure he knows this was your idea.” You bite, stomping off towards Arthur’s wagon. Another job with John, another underprepared mission that’ll likely get someone hurt.

You sigh, going to Arthur’s wagon. You kneel on the ground in front of his weapons box, opening the creaky, rusted lid. Your eyes flicker down to the box, and you sift through it, searching for his rifle. You find the rolling block rifle easily enough before meeting John back over by the horses. He’s already mounted up, waiting for you to get on Athena.

—- —- —-- —

"Come on then, where are we getting these damn sheep?" You ask, mounting up. John canters out of Horseshoe as you follow.

"Should be comin' through the Heartlands sometime in the hour, probably led by a couple of ranch hands. I reckon we get those ranch hands dealt with and we have the herd for ourselves." John explains, racing over the train tracks toward the rocky Heartlands. You ride on for a while, galloping past herds of bison and deer.

"What happened with Arthur by the way? It's like he came back and then left again. I barely saw him before he ran off." John yells back to you, and you stumble for an answer.

"Well, he hid out in Strawberry till the law got away and then made his way back to the bridge. I guess there were a lot of eyes on him when we came back home, so he went to Valentine."

"I thought he was dead." John admits, "Did you go with him? To Valentine? I didn't see you in camp either…" John recalls.

"I did." Is all you say, leaving the conversation at that as you canter up the path to the top of a cliff. It's a rocky trail, but eventually you make it to the top. You can look down over and see for miles in both directions.

"They'll be comin' from Emerald Ranch." John explains, pulling a pair of binoculars out. He looks through them towards the east, waiting for some movement. After a few minutes of him watching, and you toying with your hands, he speaks up.

"I see somethin', might be them." John whispers, crouching down. You follow suit, kneeling on the rocks as you pull Arthur's rolling block rifle from around your shoulder. You hold up the heavy gun, glancing through the sight.

You see three men on horses, and about thirty head of sheep in between them.

"That's them, alright." You whisper back, lowering the barrel of the gun.

"What's the plan?" You ask, looking over to John as he lowers his binoculars.

"Wait until they get close, then shoot at their feet. Close enough to scare 'em, but don't actually shoot anyone."

"I'm not gonna shoot anyone." You bite, lifting the sight back up to your eye. You center the rifle against your shoulder, aiming it towards the herd. You zero in on a spot between the rancher’s, but you hesitate, looking back at John.

“Won’t this scare the sheep away?” You ask. John waves you off, pointing back to the herd.

“No– you're just overthinkin’ it. They’re gettin’ close now, shoot at ‘em.” John tells you, and you cock your head, going back to your sights.

“If you say so…” You hum, and John rolls his eyes.

You aim back at the ranchers’ feet, squeezing the trigger. The chamber fires, and the bullet lodges into the dirt between the three men. Their horses spook, rearing up and growing skittish, but they keep the herd tight together, not budging.

“One more shot, make it closer this time.” John says, looking back through his binoculars.

You aim again, closer this time. Your hands sweat from anxiety and the weight of the gun, and when your trembling fingers squeeze the trigger, you slip just a hair. The bullet lodges into one of the rancher’s shoulders, and you wince as he screams, falling from his horse.

“Shit, Star!” John hisses, “I told you not to hit anyone!”

“Clearly, that was an accident- shit.” You wince. Luckily he seems to be okay, save for the wound, and he clambers back up onto his horse before galloping off with the other two.

“Oops.” You whisper.

John rolls his eyes, running towards the horses. With the gunshot, and the absence of the ranchers, the sheep have scattered, running in opposite directions and bleating loudly in fear. You follow, quickly running towards Athena to catch up to John. You jump onto Athena from behind, and she starts running before you’ve even scooched up into the saddle.

“You get the east side, I’ll grab the west, get as many back as you can!” John hollers to you, running after the sheep that have run off towards the west. You run towards Emerald Ranch, gathering up as many as you can and pushing them in the direction of Valentine. You have no idea how to herd, but you try your best, shielding them from the wrong way, while encouraging them towards Valentine. It’s a mess, and you barely get them together before taking up the side of the herd opposite of John.

“We got 'em all?” You holler over, and John shrugs.

“I don't know, but we got enough.”He yells back. You trot forward, slapping your saddle every once in a while to encourage the sheep forward. It's a messy group, but it works as you push them on.

— — — —

"What in the hell are you two doin'?" A familiar voice calls out, and you glance up to meet Arthur's green eyes. He's trotting towards you on his scarred shire, eyes darting around at the herd of sheep you're barely keeping together.

"Stealin' sheep!" John hollers over the noise as the animals run amongst themselves, bleating, “Star over here is shootin’ farmers.” John jokes, and you sigh.

“I told you that was an accident, and I feel real bad for it, so leave it be.” You say. John chuckles, and Arthur raises an eyebrow at you, but you wave it off.

Seeing the mess of a herd, Arthur flanks the sheep, leaving you pushing them from the back, and John on their other side. It forms a perfect chute to push them along, and you fall into a steady trot, pushing the sheep forward.

"Those guns turned out real fine!" Arthur yells back to you, and you nod, glancing down at your hip.

"They did, thank you by the way. You didn't have to do that." You yell up, referring to him buying your guns.

"Ah, I wanted to." Arthur says. John glances between the two of you with a confused look on his face, but keeps quiet other than an occasional cluck or curse at the sheep.

"How'd it go with Micah?" You ask Arthur, and you see him shake his head. One of the sheep breaks away from the herd, and you canter to the side, cutting it off and forcing it back as Arthur speaks.

"It was a goddamn disaster. He killed half the town lookin' for a pair of guns, killed a woman he knew, it was real bad." Arthur grits, distaste on his tongue as he spits the words out.

"He go back to camp?" John asks, spurring Old Boy forward, keeping the herd in tight formation as you trot around Citadel Rock.

"No," Arthur shakes his head, scratching his chin, "He wants to make it up Dutch. He said bringin' home a take would get him forgiven, asked me if I had any leads or jobs." Arthur huffs.

Your blood runs cold for a moment. You think of the debtor Arthur was supposed to go after yesterday, and you hope he didn't send Micah.

"Where did you send him?" You ask, voice steady. Arthur doesn't respond, and the only noise is the pounding of hooves as your eyebrows pop up, waiting for an answer.

"Where did you send him?" You bite, louder and more aggressively this time. John is lost, looking between the two of you.

"I sent him after Downes."

You huff, shocked, though you shouldn't be. Athena tosses her head up a few times, picking up on the fact that you're upset.

"So it's okay to beat a man as long as your hands are clean?" You snap, "Sending goddamn Micah after him. Do you think that makes it okay–? You're not giving the beating, but you can pass it off on someone else and walk away with a clean conscience?"

John whistles under his breath, keeping his eyes on the sheep and the trail ahead. Meanwhile, Arthur scoffs, as if you're being outrageous.

"I didn't go after Downes, but I can’t stop Micah from goin'." He defends, and you squint at his poor excuse, growing more upset and angry. It's one thing to take from people who deserve it, but the poor? It takes a different type of person to rob and beat the desperate. Only someone with no honor could do that, and looking at Arthur, you wonder where his head's at when it comes to morality.

"Maybe not, but you told him to go!" You yell over the bleating sheep. They grow more antsy from you and Arthur's yelling, and everyone works harder to keep them in tight formation.

"Strauss would have just sent one of the other boys anyway! Micah needed work and I gave him some. I'm sorry we don't always have the benefit of pickin' and choosin' what jobs we go on. We need money to get out of this damn place, you should know! You're itchin' to get out of here more than anyone- so no, I didn't question it!" Arthur yells, his face is hot with anger, and as much as your mind barks at you to scream back, you can't find it in your heart to yell at him.

"Strauss's line of 'work' hurts more than just the debtor. I should know." You say, quieter than you were yelling just seconds ago. Arthur turns in his saddle, sees the tears in your eyes and realizes what a piece of shit he's being. He wonders if he's any different than the bastard who killed your father, and if you see him that way.

"You ought to figure out who you wanna be, Arthur, a good man or a bad one, cause you can't be both… Good luck with the sheep." You bid goodbye, reining Athena away from the herd.

"Star, wait." Arthur says as you kiss to Athena, cueing her into a canter past the sheep and the boys, towards Valentine.

"Star!" Arthur yells after you, but his voice gets quieter as you keep running towards Valentine. A few tears drip down your cheeks, but you wipe them away quickly. You've had a lot of reminders of your family today, and Arthur sending Micah after a debtor sure didn't help.

You don't even have to steer her, Athena rides you right into Valentine, straight to Keane's saloon, as if she knows you need it. When you pull alongside the hitching post, you spot a pearly white Arabian hitched across the road and you scowl. Great.

Your need for a drink outgrows your annoyance with Dutch, and you slide down from Athena before walking up to the saloon door. With a hand on either door, you push them open.

Your eyes immediately land on Dutch, and sitting beside him is that little rat, Strauss. Your frown deepens, of course he's here. His beady eyes scan the room, and land on you as you walk forward. The scowl you send him is heated, and he immediately averts his eyes.

"Star, we were looking for you. Where's John?" Dutch yells out, his booming voice tugging at the scowl on your lips.

"With Arthur, working." You offer.

"Come sit, have a drink with us, miss." Dutch smiles, inviting you over. You glance at the bar, then to the square table that they're sitting at. There's an expensive bottle of whiskey on the table, and you decide it's worth the pain of sitting by the bastards. You nod, walking towards their table before pulling a chair out and sitting down.

Dutch waves the bartender over, calling him to bring you a glass. As soon as the crystal glass hits the table, you're pouring the golden liquid into it. Dutch chuckles, watching as you take a long swig.

"I just wanted to–" Strauss begins to speak, but you glare at him.

"Shut the hell up." You snap at him, and immediately he goes quiet.

Dutch on the other hand, laughs boisterously. His hand rests on his manspreading knee as he tips his chair back on its back legs.

"Feisty thing, isn't she?" Dutch chuckles, and you squint at him dangerously. He places his hands in the air in surrender as you down the rest of your whiskey and pour yourself another one.

"What job are Arthur and John running? I told them to meet me here…" Dutch asks, swirling his glass.

"Stealin' sheep and sendin' them to auction. I'm sure they'll be here any minute." You say with a hint of distaste on your lips. You drink your glass of whiskey in one long swig before placing the glass back down gently.

"I better be heading out, have some debtors to attend to." Strauss smiles, but neither you or Dutch smile back as the man stands up and leaves.

"I never liked that man's line of work. It seems… worse, stealing from the poor like that." Dutch grumbles, shaking his head. You look over at him surprised.

"Something we agree on." You huff. You drink the last of your whiskey, pouring another. You watch as Dutch gets lost in his head, and he smiles at some old memory.

"You know, Arthur, Hosea and I used to steal from the rich and give to the poor… Our first bank robbery, we handed gold and cash out in the slums, gave it all except what we needed." Dutch says, and you lean back in your chair, seeing him in a new light.

"Hosea thinks we've changed, but we're still chasin' that same dream– freedom from the confines of civilization, paradise in the west." He says, eyes far away as he imagines a future for the gang. You bring your glass up to your lips, thinking over his words.

"Is that where we're headed then? West?" You ask, and Dutch nods deeply.

"That's the plan."

You drink your whiskey before placing your glass down, not knowing if it's your second or third. The old bottle is halfway gone though.

"Here they come." Dutch smiles, and you turn to see Arthur and John trotting down the road, wearing matching scowls. You can see Arthur bickering with the younger outlaw, in a sour mood.

"I'm gonna step out for a smoke." You tell Dutch, sliding your chair out as you stand. He tips his hat as you walk out the back door.

You don't want to say anything you'll regret, so stepping out proves to be your safest option. You lean your back against the outer wall of the saloon, reaching into your satchel to grab your box of cigarettes. You pull one out, striking a match against your boot to light it. Pulling the match to the cigarette between your lips, you watch as it begins to burn, orange and black ashes falling from your smoke when you tap it.

You inhale deeply, slipping your eyes shut as the tobacco works its way into your system. You feel a little better already, and you take a few steps forward, looking up at the cliffs above you. You watch on for a while, hearing Arthur and John bickering on the other side of the building, and then you hear a shuffle behind you. With your eyebrows pulled together, you start to turn. A rifle hits the back of your head, and a dull pain shoots through your head as you blackout, falling to the floor.

— — — —

Your eyes begin to flicker open, and you squint as the bright white daylight blinds you. Your head throbs, and the arms holding you up are gripping onto you too tightly. Muffled voices are yelling, but you can't make out what they're saying until you finally come to.

"Get up, we're walkin." A man grits at you, and when your eyes adjust to the light, you're met with a Pinkerton Agent. Your eyes pop open widely, and you go to yell, but there's a gag wrapped tightly in your mouth, tied behind your head.

You panic, thinking they're going to torture you for information. If they wanted to kill you they would have already. You try to grab for your holster, but your hands are tied behind your back, and your guns have been stripped from you. The Agent smirks as it all dawns on you, and he grabs your arm, pulling you with him.

"Move." He bites, pushing you forward. You stumble ahead, breathing hotly through your gag, struggling as he pushes you into the street. Two big, armed men grab onto your arms, holding you tightly. The barrel of a rifle presses up against your temple as you tremble, assessing the situation. Keane's saloon is in front of you, and you can faintly see the silhouette of Arthur and Dutch drinking inside. When you glance to your side, you see that they have Strauss with you, but he is trembling and tears slip down his cheeks. You have no weapons, your hands are literally bound, your best option is to wait.

A large man comes forward with a thick white beard. He's neatly dressed and neatly trimmed, clearly a man of money. He has a shining revolver in his hand, pointed up in the air.

"Van der Linde!" The man screams, voice booming as he roars, pacing up and down the street in front of you. You glance around, seeing that Pinkerton Agents surround the building and the shops in the town. Your breathing quickens as you glance back to the window.

"Get out here! Get out here now!" The man yells again, growing irritated and impatient.

"You don't know me, but you keep robbing me!" He screams, and all his men ready their guns at the saloon door. Your heart pounds in your chest. You're outnumbered by a lot.

"My name is Leviticus Cornwall, I am not a man to be messed with by the likes of you!" Cornwall screams, and your blood runs cold at the name. The wagon, the train, you've been stealing from Cornwall all this time, of course he was bound to retaliate. You watch as the silhouettes behind the windows move, and you know they must be coming up with a plan.

"Get out here! Before I kill them both!" Cornwall screams, and the man at your back shoves you down hard until your knees hit the mud. You yelp in pain from his shove, and the barrel of his rifle pushes hard against the back of your head for it.

The saloon door opens, and slowly Dutch, Arthur and John file out with their hands raised. Dutch stands in the middle of the porch, John and Arthur flanking him. Arthur's eyes are glued to you, and his heart pounds as he worriedly scans over you. The sight of you on your knees with a gun to your head is surely burned into his memory.

"Gentleman, this is a terrible case of mistaken identity…What is worse than admonishing a man for the sins of another?" Dutch begins, and you nervously watch as Arthur waits for an opportune moment.

"Now, I don't know who this 'van der Linde' is, but surely we can negotiate–"

Arthur unholsters his revolver and takes out the man at your back in a quick movement. All hell breaks loose, and Arthur finds cover as the three boys start shooting. Cornwall mounts up and runs off quickly, ducking like a coward as he gallops off. Strauss lands a bullet in the leg, and screams out in pain. You duck, running behind a wagon to seek cover as bullets whiz past your head.

"I gotta go help Star!" Arthur yells, firing multiple times before darting across the street towards you. When he comes around the corner, he skids to his knees in the mud, holstering his gun. His hands pry the gag out of your mouth and you cough, taking a deep breath upon its release.

He pulls out his knife, reaching behind you to free your hands as you gasp.

"Y'alright?" Arthur yells over the bullets, and you nod.

"I'm sorry-" he begins.

"We'll talk later, we're getting shot at." You yell, running towards the corpse of the man who was holding you hostage. You take your guns off him, and immediately jump in to help.

"There's more comin' in!" John yells firing into three men in quick succession. You glance at the road from the post office to see a group of men riding in on fine, bay Morgans. Your heart rate picks up as you and Arthur aim and fire, taking down all the men with your smoking carbines.

"Dutch?! What are we doin' here?" Arthur yells out, jogging up the road towards the jail, you follow him, shooting down men that peak around the gunsmith's.

"We'll get Strauss in the wagon and push it. Arthur, shoot somethin! Star, get in the wagon with Strauss, you can use it as cover!" Dutch yells, and you run and jump into the wagon. You duck behind the wall of the wagon, peeking up enough to fire at the Pinkertons lining the street. Arthur cuts Strauss free, picks him up and tosses him in the horseless wagon. He cries out in pain, gripping his leg tightly.

"I think something is wrong, I believe I severed an artery or- or nicked a nerve–" Strauss begins.

"Shut up before I put another bullet in you. You're fine." You yell. The wagon starts moving, and you glance back to see Dutch and John pushing it.

Arthur is using the wagon as cover, running beside it, while shooting men down from the balconies.

Bullets lodge into the wagon, and you gasp loudly as one hits the wood just centimeters from you. You turn around to see a man fall from the balcony behind you, dead on account of Arthur's smoking revolver. He looks over at you, terrified, until he realizes it missed you.

You nod to him, letting him know you're fine, before taking your position back and firing into as many men as you can. They pop out from everywhere, with seemingly no end to their numbers. Pinkertons come from around the jail, the doctor's, the saloon, gunsmith, everywhere. They're on roofs, balconies and porches, shooting out of damn windows. Cornwall has hired a goddamn militia.

Dutch and John are pushing the wagon down the main street, past the saloon as you near the end of the road.

"There's not many left, just keep shooting!" Dutch yells out, straining as he pushes the wagon. You and Arthur continue firing, and you stop momentarily to reload.

"I'm low on ammo!" You holler, ducking behind the wall of the wagon as you reload your gun. Once the bullets are loaded, you cock the gun to resume your shooting. When you pop up from your cover, bullets whiz past you. You take down one man from the roof of the stables, and another from the porch of Nils' shop.

The Pinkertons begin to dwindle down, until Dutch and John push the wagon to the end of the main road, and there are no more.

"Is everyone alive?!" Dutch hollers out, turning around to count everyone.

"There could be more comin' we gotta go now." You say, swinging your carbine over your shoulder as you jump down from the wagon. You jog over towards Arthur, noticing a red stain on the arm of his shirt. He sees your eyes flicker to the blood, and you grab his bicep to get a better look at it.

"Just a graze, I'm fine." Arthur reassures you, hand squeezing your elbow lightly as you nod.

Dutch grabs a whining Strauss from the wagon, whistling as the horses come running down the street.

"John, take Strauss on your horse. I'll get Grimshaw to start packing up. You two, make sure they don't follow us." Dutch orders, setting Strauss up on the back of Old Boy.

"Sure." Arthur answers.

"We can't stay here after this." Dutch admits out loud, mounting up on The Count who rears and bucks lightly in fear.

"No, we can't." Arthur sighs.

John mounts up onto Old Boy, and they all run off towards home. You stand next to Arthur in shock, glancing over the bodies that line the streets.

"You're okay?" Arthur asks, coming towards you. You nod, eyes slipping closed.

"This was a massacre, Arthur. He hired a militia." You whisper, "And he'll hire another one."

Arthur nods, hands on his gun belt.

"We'll be okay, and we'll talk about earlier, let's just get home first. Cmon, no one's followin' us." Arthur says, whistling for your horses to come closer. You mount up on Athena, glancing once more over the town. The main street is littered with corpses, destroying the sweet little livestock town. You frown deeply, pushing Athena towards home.

Upon your arrival, tents are already being torn down and stuffed into wagons. Your tent is gone, and Arthur's wagon is being taken apart and filled with items. You frown at the sight of your home being destroyed, again.

Arthur jumps down from Balius and walks straight up to Dutch's tent with you in toe. Hosea is in the tent, bickering and finger-pointing at Dutch while you wait outside.

"This is lying low? We've turned into a bunch of killers, Dutch, I mean it! We ain't even got the delusion of being nothing but a bunch of killers!" Hosea snaps, pointing his finger in Dutch's face. Dutch sits on his cot, calm as ever as he takes in Hosea's words.

"We are just trying to survive, Hosea. We don't have a choice. This will end soon." Dutch reassures.

"Damn right, it will!" Hosea yells before backing away and stomping out of the tent.

"Constipated as usual…" Dutch hums, shaking his head as Arthur steps inside.

"Where are we headed, Dutch?" Arthur asks, voice quiet, worried.

"Micah told me of a place, a while back before we came down here. Dewberry Creek."

Your eyebrows draw together as you look at Dutch, shaking your head.

"I've been there with John, it ain't gonna work. It's open and it'll be mud when it rains." You explain, thinking back to when you stole the wagon with John.

"I trust Micah. It will work. Arthur, take Charles and scout it out." Dutch growls at you. You glare at him, stepping forward.

"It ain't gonna w-"

"I said you and Charles go take a look. Clear off anyone you find before the whole lot of us move in there looking so conspicuous." Dutch interrupts you as you fume.

"And how are we gonna do that?" Arthur sighs. Dutch shakes his head.

"I don't know, start dancin'?"

Arthur looks at Dutch with as much anger as you. He's being sent on errands, when you know it's a waste of time.

"What am I now, just your goddamn errand boy?" Arthur hisses, stepping out of the tent with you. His hand is on the small of your back as he urges you outside, away from Dutch and the mess he's creating.

"You're not my errand boy, you are my son. You worry because I worry, we are just the same, you and I." Dutch says, and Arthur walks away from him with a scowl.

"I swear, he's turnin' into a goddamn lunatic, Star." Arthur whispers hotly, stomping towards Charles' bedroll.

"I know it." You sigh, following Arthur. When you glance over your shoulder you see Abigail sitting on the ground with Jack, tears streaming down his cheeks as Karen and Tilly pack up his bags. You frown, watching on as they take his books and file them away in a chest.

"But he'll pull through for us. He always does." Arthur adds, and you nod, not saying anything. You don't have to tell Arthur that you disagree.

Charles is rolling up his bedroll, and adding it to a bag of his things when you both come upon him.

"Charles, ride with us?" Arthur asks, and Charles stands up, eyebrows pulled together.

"Of course. Where to?" He asks, grabbing his shotgun from a crate before following you towards the horses.

"Some dried up river that ain't gonna work as a camp." You bite, aggression not pointed at either of the two boys.

"She's talkin' about Dewberry Creek." Arthur corrects you with a smirk.

It's a longer ride, and by the end you're exhausted. It's been a shit day so far, and this part is no exception. Your body aches from rocking in the saddle, and from the hyperextension of your hands being tied behind your back, not to mention your throbbing head from the butt of a rifle earlier.

"Y'okay?" Arthur asks, seeing you stretch your shoulders and crack your neck for the third time in the past ten minutes.

"Yeah, just hurtin' a little." You admit. Dewberry Creek is just over the hill, and you all lope over it.

"They hurt you bad?" Arthur asks, suddenly worried. He didn't have time to check over you back after the shootout, he was too worried about getting you out of there. And then immediately getting swooped into a job, he never asked.

"I'm okay." You admit, reaching over to squeeze Arthur’s hand. He nods, squeezing yours back lightly before you let go and continue riding.

Charles curiously eyes the motion, making his own assumptions, but he keeps quiet.

"Creek’s just up here." You call out, pushing Athena a little faster down the hill. Arthur and Charles follow as you come upon the dried up creek bed You slow Athena into a sliding stop, letting the boys take in the spot for what it's worth.

The creek bed is muddy. There are sinking wet spots that make it unlivable, not to mention the fact that it's in the middle of the plains, completely in the open. There are a few tents pitched in the creekbed, a hundred or more feet down.

“This is worse than I thought… Why would Micah even consider this?” Charles asks. Arthur pushes Balius forward into the creek bed, seemingly eyeing the same tents as you.

“Are there people living here now?” Arthur asks, riding forward. You follow him, squinting to look for any motion down by the tents. You see none, but ride forward anyway.

“It looks abandoned.” You say, trotting past Arthur. You scan the creekbed, stopping when you see an unmoving lump of fabric in the distance. As you get closer, you wince, realizing it’s a corpse, face down in the mud. It appears that he was shot in the back while running away. You look back up at the tents, a feeling of unease sweeping over you.

“I found a body!” You yell back to the boys, and both of them ride up to you, “There’s a camp ahead too.” You add, getting down from Athena. You move towards the body, feeling sorry for the feller as you look him over.

“Stay alert. Any issues, shoot first n’ debate second.” Arthur says, and you huff a humorless laugh.

“What is with you today?” You hiss, and Charles nods his head, also picking up on Arthur’s sour mood and aggression.

“I'm not gonna shoot for the sake of it.” Charles bites back, following Arthur towards the camp.

“Survivals for the sake of it, quit talkin.” Arthur snaps, and you roll your eyes, glancing at Charles.

You come upon the camp, hand resting near your holster as you check it out. You walk through the entrance of a white, A frame tent, finding it to be left untouched. Cans of food sit out, blankets and books are left behind. It's as if whoever was here just got up and left. Arthur and Charles search the tents up ahead, finding the same thing.

“Looks empty.” Arthur calls out, and you jog up to where he’s at. The only thing left to search is a large wagon, and you set your eyes on it as you walk past the men.

“Let's make sure.” You say, walking towards the wagon. You peek in the back, finding an opened, empty chest. When you step down, you hear the cock of a shotgun, and you pause, putting your hands in the air.

Arthur and Charles notice this, and they step forward slowly, pulling a few crates away from under the wagon. You’re taken aback at the sight of a woman and two children, cowering, under the wagon. The mother holds up a shotgun, shielding her son and daughter behind her.

“You can come out of there.” Charles says, holstering his sawed off shotgun as he backs away with his hands raised. You and Arthur follow, surrendering as you give them space to step out.

“Are you okay?” You ask, shocked at the sight of them. They look terrified, and Charles gestures for them to come out from underneath the wagon.

“We don’t mean you no harm.” Arthur whispers.

The woman comes out, with her gun raised up at you three, alternating between you all. Her children follow her, and she keeps them behind her skirt as she stands across from you three.

“The lady said, are you okay?” Arthur says, gesturing to you. The woman shakes her head as if she doesn’t understand.

“Sprechen sie Deutsch? G-German?” She asks, translating her words as best as she can. Arthur sighs, tossing his hands up into the air.

“No.” He says curtly. Much to your surprise, he attempts to shoo them off with his hands as he yells, “Now go on, get outta here! We need the land, go!” He yells, and you step in front of him, stopping him.

“You’re gonna leave these people to themselves after this?” You ask, gesturing to the body and abandoned camp. Arthur has a grumpy look on his face, a threatening demeanor that works on just about everyone but you.

“We need this land, Star– we got our own prob–” Arthur begins, but the woman’s young daughter jumps out from behind her, tears in her eyes as she yells in the best English she can.

“They took our father!!” She yells, crying. Her accent is heavy, but you understand her well enough. Charles steps forward, and the mother raises her gun up again.

“Who did?” Charles asks, and Arthur shakes his head in disapproval.

“Men, last night.” The girl adds, watching the three of you.

“Where?” You ask, but Arthur grabs your arm, pulling you back to look at him. Angrily, you pull your arm back.

“Ain’t no business of ours. I don’t even speak their language!” Arthur hisses. Charles steps forward, a mean look on his face.

“You ain't as tough and dense as all that. Come on, Star.” Charles says, and you sigh before following him.

“Arthur, stay or don’t, but I’m goin.” You say, whistling for Athena. You mount up quickly, following the direction that the young girl had pointed to.

“We’ll see if we can pick up a trail, c’mon.” Charles says, and Arthur sighs before mounting onto Balius.

Charles starts out the mouth of the trail, picking up a canter. Before he gets to the main road, he points to the ground.

“A trail, right here.” Charles says, cueing Taima faster.

“I don't see nothin’.” Arthur pouts, looking at the dirt and seeing… nothing but dirt. You point to the hoof prints on the ground, and the trail that they make along the main road.

“Hoof prints this way.” You explain, racing faster along the road. The trail dips into the woods, and you follow Charles in a single file line, racing through the trees.

“So what's goin’ on with you?” Charles asks, glancing back at Arthur. He keeps a steady pace with Taima, dodging turkeys and trees as he follows the tracks,

“Whatchu mean?” Arthur asks.

“You were just gonna send that woman and her children on their way?” Charles asks. Arthur slings his carbine off of his shoulder, sliding it down the holster on Balius’s saddle.

“We’re wanted men. We got the Pinkertons breathing down our necks. Star was nearly executed in front of us today, Charles... We should be moving camp, not runnin’ off on some wild goose chase.” Arthur explains, and you pick up on the reason for his upset.

“That's why you’re upset. Arthur, I'm okay.” You offer, but it doesn’t ease his worry. He won’t feel better until you’re far away from this mess.

“Maybe now, but that Pinkerton was seconds away from putting a bullet in you, and don’t think I didn't see that goddamn mark on your head.” Arthur hisses, and you instinctively run your hand up to the back of your head where a welt resides from the butt of that bastard’s carbine. It grows quiet as Charles breaches the woods, coming upon Flat Iron Lake.

“This way.” He says quietly, cantering along the shore. You follow, and after a while of running alongside horse tracks, you come to a grassy opening. It must be the right place, as crates and a few bedrolls lie around scattered. It's a beautiful spot, and the golden evening light shines brilliantly across the lake, cascading around you.

“This is a better camp spot than back there.” You say, looking over the large, old oak tree in the center of the camp. The lake laps at the shore of the little peninsula, calmingly.

“This looks like our feller.” Arthur hollers from ahead of you, and your head snaps in his direction to where a man is hogtied on the grass, yelling through a gag. Arthur jumps down from Balius, jogging over to the man. He slips the man’s gag off, and immediately the German man begins to scream.

“Vorsichtig!! Vorsichtig!!”

<careful! careful!> The man screams, and bullets begin to whiz around past you.

“Take cover!” Arthur yells, and you leap down from Athena, sliding behind a crate as the horses run off. Men come from behind the trees, shooting at you. You fill your carbine, popping up from the cover to fire into three men’s chests. There aren’t many of them, and you take out as many as you can.

“Watch! They’re comin’ in on horses!” Charles yells from behind the tree, and you glance towards the trail leading in where four men on horses ride in.

You take down one, and Arthur and Charles take down the rest.

“Are there any more of them?” You pant, lowering your constellation-patterned weapon.

“No.” Arthur mumbles, holstering his revolver.

You look behind you, past Arthur to the hogtied man. He's writhing on the ground, clearly in pain from being tied up so long. You jog over to him quickly, unsheathing your knife before cutting his ties free. Arthur and Charles whistle for your horses, walking towards you as the man clambers up, rubbing at his raw wrists.

"Danke! Danke!!"

<thank you! thank you!> The man smiles, turning around in both ways as if he's lost, searching for a familiar way out.

"We'll take you back to your family, mister." You say slowly, wondering if he understands any English at all.

"Star–" Arthur begins to protest, but you're not having any of it. You won't let him protect you if it leads to others getting hurt.

"Charles, go back to Horseshoe and bring the caravan here. It's a good spot." You address Charles before turning to the man, "We will take you back to your family." You say, waving him towards your horse. He follows you, looking mighty confused as you mount up into Athena. But when you extend your hand to him, he takes it, hopping up into the mare's croup.

"Was tun wir jetzt"

<what are we doing now?> The man says, and not understanding, you keep on riding.

"Also komme ich dann mit?"

<so I'm coming with you then?> He asks again, and you sigh.

"I'm sorry, I have no clue what you're sayin', mister." You sigh, following the trail back towards Dewberry Creek.

"Wo bringst du hich min?"

<where are you taking me?> He asks again. You don't respond, but Arthur does.

"What in the hell did you do to those fellers back there?" Arthur asks, following beside you on his shire.

"Was hast du gesagt."

Arthur sighs, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose as he rides along.

"Those men back there. Why- did- they- take- you?" Arthur asks, pronouncing each word slower, as if it'll help the man understand.

"Geld. Money." The German husband says. You glance over your shoulder at him, wondering what trouble he's in over money with fellers like those. He's well dressed, and his family was too. You doubt he's a debtor.

"Meine Familie hat ein Goldminen Geschäft. Sie wollten ein Lösegeld schicken."

<my family owns a gold mining business. they wanted to send a ransom.> He explains, and you try to decipher the German words.

"How did someone even come up with them words?" Arthur sighs as you try to understand.

"G-gold minin'?" You attempt to say the word in German, "Your family owns a gold mine?" You say, glancing at Arthur with wide eyes.

"Ja, yes!" The German man exclaims, and your eyes boggle.

“Ihr beide bringt mich zu meiner Familie? Oh danke. Wie haben sie euch beide gefunden?”

<you’re taking me to my family? oh, thank you. how did they find you two?>

“Sorry partner, I can barely speak english.” Arthur huffs as you ride up on the Dewberry Creek bank. When you come over the hill, the man’s family is waiting for them. They’ve readied their wagon, and two draft horses are tethered to the front of it.

“There they are.” You whisper back to the man with a smile on your face as the children point and smile.

“Oh, Gott sei Dank!”

<oh, thank god!> He calls out, jumping down from Athena. He runs to his family, and catches his wife in a tight hug as the children run and wrap their arms around him.

“Schatz!”

<darling!> He exhales, releasing a held breath when he sees and feels his family.

“Andreas!” His wife cries, kissing his cheek.

“Ich dachte du wärst tot.”

<I thought you were dead.> She says, tears slipping down her cheeks.

“Ich war es fast.”

<I nearly was.> Andreas admits before looking down and greeting his children. You watch on as Arthur dismounts, going towards the little reunited family.

“Wir sind gesegnet, euch beide kennengelernt zu haben.”

<we are blessed to have known you both.> The wife cries to you and Arthur as her husband helps her up into the wagon. You’re not sure what she’s said, but you’re sure it’s some form of gratitude.

Arthur steps forward, shooing the family on.

“Get outta here, this place ain’t safe.” Arthur tells them, but no one moves.

“Get outta here! Vamos! Vamos!” Arthur yells, in a sad excuse for spanish while talking to german folks. You snort as the children clamber up into the wagon. The man points his fingers into the air as if he has an idea before digging through a compartment in his wagon.

“Ich habe etwas für dich, Augenblick."

<i have something for you, one moment.> He says, digging through the wagon as Arthur huffs, impatient. You only watch on from Athena, amused by Arthur’s easily frustrated state. Andreas turns around, holding two heavy, shimmering bars of gold in his hands. Your eyes boggle as he hands one to Arthur, and then comes forward to offer the other up to you.

“Danke aus tiefstem herzen”

<thank you from the bottom of my heart.> He whispers, glancing between you and Arthur.

Arthur stares at the gold bar for a moment before glancing back up at the man as he climbs into his wagon, slapping the reins over the horses’ backs.

“Guess it was a pleasure…” Arthur mumbles under his breath, sliding the gold bar into his satchel. You place your own in your saddle bag, saying nothing as he climbs on to Balius before you both make the trip back to the opening by the lake. You don’t have to say anything, he knows what you’re thinking. This is what happens when you help people.

— — — —

When you’d arrived at the new camp, called Clemens Point, you found out, Grimshaw had already pitched your tent up next to Arthur’s wagon. You didn’t have the heart to tell her it was a waste, so you said nothing. Your tent is on the east side of the camp, not far from the lake. If it’s quiet, you can hear it lapping against the shore quietly. It’s a little warmer down in Lemoyne, something you’re grateful for.

After helping everyone unpack, setting up the rest of the tents, grooming and untacking the horses, unloading the wagons, and cooking dinner, it’s nearly one in the morning. Absolutely exhausted, you begin pulling your gun belt off before you even enter your tent. You push the white canvas open, stepping inside and dropping your belt onto the ground. You strip down your clothes, feeling freer with every shed item until you’re left in just your underthings and a loose-fitting shirt. You take your hair out of its tie, scratching at your scalp before stepping towards the bed.

A light knock sounds out on the front beam of your tent, and you smirk as Arthur steps in. He’s already dressed down, wearing nothing but his union suit and a comfortable pair of jeans.

“Figured you’d want me in here.” He says with a smile, stepping forward and wrapping his arms around your waist.

“I’m glad you came.” You hum, leaning up on your tiptoes to kiss him. Your lips meet in a sweet, slow kiss. It’s been a long, hard day and you’re both exhausted. Your lips part as you grip his arm and drag him to bed with you. You lay on your side, and Arthur’s chest lines your back tightly. One of his arms is under your head, and the other is draped over your waist.

“I'm sorry about this mornin’.” Arthur whispers, and your lips fall into a small frown. You knew this was coming.

“It’s okay... Just, choose who you wanna be. You can’t be a good man and a bad one, you gotta pick.” You say, turning around in his arms. His hands are warm on your body as you look up to his terrified eyes.

“Do you think I’m a bad man?” He asks, eyes searching yours for any hint of an answer. You shake your head.

“No. I think you’re a good man, one of the best. But I think that can change, if you keep goin’ down this path.” You tell him truthfully, and he nods.

“Thanks, darlin’. I’ll be tryin, for you.” Arthur whispers, pressing a slow, sweet kiss to your temple while releasing a breath.

“Get some sleep now, okay?” Arthur says quietly, pulling the blanket further up over you. You hum, content, nuzzling into his chest until you’re fast asleep. It doesn’t take long with how exhausted you are.

Back in Arthur’s wagon, sitting on his bedside table is his journal, with one new entry scribbled onto the white pages:

She sees the good in me. I don’t know how or why, and yet she does. She looks at me like I’m the sunshine, brightening up her day. I fear I’m the opposite, but I’m trying everyday to be better for her. It’s an uphill battle. One step forward, two steps back, but I’m trying to be the man she deserves. She deserves so much, a family, a real home. I’d like to give her that one day. God– I’m sweeter on her than honey itself, I reckon. ♡

taglist: @margofiore @mrsarthurmorgan7 @woman-with-no-name @tillith @luvliewriting @pine4pple-b0i @photo1030 @dudsparrow

series taglist: @catnotbread @chxosangxl @globetrotter28 @justalittlerayofpitchblack @fruittiest-of-loops @randomidk-123 @heyworld-whatsup @btsiguess-kpop @how-the-heck-would-i-know @rratman @eyelovie @mykneeshurt

#arthur morgan #rdr2 fandom #rdr2 arthur #arthur morgan x reader #rdr2 #red dead redemption two #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan x female reader

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plague-of-insomnia · 2 years ago

Note

what kind of accents do you think the cast has? im a dub main for various reasons (one of my friends had a reading/memory disability so i ended up watching dub w them) so im kinda used to everyones dub accents.

but bards defo got an american accent right? (not in the dub, but im thinking manga terms?)

and ik soma & agni have barely a trace of an accent but does that mean they sound basically british?

and does finny have a german accent? sieglinde? diedrich?

idk food for thought?

❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤

(Sorry it’s been a rough couple days and I didn’t realize I hadn’t published this yet.)

Hey anon… so I’m a bit confused as to if you’re asking about the Japanese accents in the various anime, the English dub accents (or some other dub), or just my thoughts on what their various accents would be like based on the manga and independent of the anime.

Now I have only watched Kuro in English bc that’s the only thing that was available/that’s available on what I have at the moment (though I’m finally getting the blu rays for BoM and BoA so I’m hoping they’ll have the Japanese to try that out for once), so I can’t make judgements based on that. (And I’m not a good one to ask about Japanese accents anyway, lol.)

I also favor dubs bc of my disability. I love hearing the Japanese but it can be hard for me to follow sometimes, and even english alone without captions I can struggle with (please fix this, CR!!! Grr), so I feel you there.

Also not sure which characters you had in mind with this ask (other than the ones you specifically mentioned). Since kuro has so many, I guess I’ll just focus on a few. I want to make clear I am American and Latine, so I am not an expert on British regional accents by any stretch, or the historical accents of the Victorian period, so I’ll just do my best. Some may be partly inspired by how the characters are written in Japanese, since there’s a bit more… complexity to the Japanese language in regards to things like formality, rudeness, etc, that may not convert into English when translated in writing.

This is a long post so I’ll use a readmore to keep it a bit less chaotic. Below the break I’ve broken down my hypotheses on how some of the major players might talk:

Sebastian

As a high-ranking servant who regularly interacts with the nobility, Sebastian would have a high-class accent, and it is reflected in how his Japanese (and even his English) is written. It is a fairly neutral, polite manner of speaking. I’m sure the Victorians probably had a term for this accent (a high-class servant accent), but if they did, I don’t know it lol.

Ciel

Most nobles like him would be educated in a public school like Weston, like his father was, and those schools taught a standard accent that often varied slightly from school to school. So everyone who went to Weston would have a similar manner of speech. Ciel has been “home schooled” his entire life, aside from a short time at Weston for the investigation, so his accent might have been slightly different than his father’s. Nevertheless, especially under Sebastian’s tutelage, he would have learned how to speak properly (if he didn’t already). Still, unless Sebastian intentionally had him learn the Weston/public school accent, anyone who speaks to him would know he did not go to school, but was taught by tutors/governesses instead.

Bard

Yes, Bard is American despite his dub accent. We don’t know where he’s from exactly, but we can assume it was probably somewhere west of the Mississippi (that’s about 1/3 of the way west if you’re looking at the US map, going east to West, if you’re not familiar with our Geography).

I say that bc the river was the first real demarcation of the frontier. It’s likely he was living somewhere like Texas or Oklahoma. Ofc where he’s from would affect his accent, but I imagine it as a kind of cross between a more neutral southern midwestern accent (“no accent”) and a subtle Texas or OK one. Which that’s hard to explain unless you really know regional US accents, bc most of Texas doesn’t sound like most people think it does. The accents really change depending on what part of the state you’re in, since it’s such a big place. But basically not too heavy an accent but a bit lazy, definitely coarse and brutish since he was a soldier and a farmer. Lots of slang and not big on politeness. (Which he definitely is in Japanese.)

Mey Rin

She’s interesting because she’s one of the few characters who has a couple different ways of speaking. She has her “maid” voice and her “assassin” voice. The first one stutters a lot and uses imperfect grammar, as reflected in the English translation when she repeats things, like “I’m not one to talk badly about my betters, I am.” The second does not have this quirk. Not sure if the first is meant as an affectation as part of her idea of what a maid is, or if she just has such a divide he her personality/personas that she speaks differently when she’s wielding a gun. Since that wasn’t really mentioned in her subarc, I doubt we’ll get an explanation. We do know she was likely a child of immigrants from China, but not whether she was born there or in England before she was orphaned. But it is unlikely she has any hint of a Chinese accent since she was orphaned so young. She definitely has more of a working class accent, especially when compared to someone like Sebastian.

Finny

I had momentarily forgotten that Finny didn’t speak English when he first came to the manor. It’s likely that he would have had some kind of German accent, but I expect that Sebastian would have drilled it out of him, considering how strict he was with Sieglinde and Wolf, and Ciel didn’t blink an eye.

Finny’s accent in English never struck me as particularly high class, either in the manga or anime, but in one of the recent chapters, Theo makes a point to compliment his “upper-class accent.” It does seem highly probable that Sebastian played a hand in how he speaks, since he probably was the one who taught him English.

However, the fact that it came up in this sub arc could indicate his way of speaking is significant, somehow tying into what’s going on with Undertaker and the orphanage. Either way, his accent is apparently closer to Ciel than Mey.

Snake

Snake is tricky, because he almost never speaks as himself (I’m still not 100% sure what pronoun he would use for himself in Japanese, and even he doesn’t seem sure lol). He speaks via his snakes, and they all have different ways of speaking (which I think the dub does a decent job of, personally). So I can’t really say, but for the most part I would probably say his accent(s) would be closer to working-class, but he might have gotten some lessons on speaking from Sebastian, since, as a footman, he would have been expected to speak at a higher-class level than other, below-stairs servants would.

Undertaker

Like Mey, UT has two manners of speaking. He has his “humble old undertaker” accent, which is Cockney-esque (I don’t wanna do a disservice by saying it IS that), definitely a lower class accent. Then he has his “revealed” voice, or how he speaks after he reveals himself on the Campania. I have not read this arc in Japanese so I cannot base this judgement on how this shift is portrayed by Yana, only based on the translation. But it definitely seems to be a higher-class accent than the other one. It’s likely that it’s his “real” accent, while the other is part of his cover persona. However, we don’t know anything about him or his background from when he was alive, or even how old he is. For all we know, that accent could be an affectation too.

Agni & Soma

I know their dub accents annoy a lot of people, since Yana specifically mentions how they don’t have an Indian accent. I expect both of them would speak with a British accent, probably something close to how Ciel speaks, most likely, since Soma would have been educated by tutors and Agni probably was as well, since he came from a very high-caste family. I would expect that if their dub accents has been closer to Yana’s intent, they would sound more like Hakim in the dub of the anime Emma. That’s how I imagine them, anyway.

Sieglinde & Wolfram

I expect both would have German accents when they speak English, especially Wolf. Sieglinde might do a better job of working to improve and lose it, but I don’t think Wolf would, partly because of his animosity toward Sebastian. I like to imagine he sounds like Hans in the English dub of the anime Emma, and I really hope we eventually get the Green Witch Arc animated and dubbed so we can get a hot German English accent 🥺.

Diedrich

Dee, on the other hand, I think would not have a German accent in English, especially not in the present. I think he probably was educated in English before he went to Weston, likely by a private tutor, probably someone British, and then when he went there would have acclimated to the public school assent there. So probably he would sound like Vincent did, but I expect he’d throw in some German every now and then, especially when he gets irritated, lol.

Lau

Lau is originally from China, and his accent (as far as I know?) has never been remarked upon in the manga. We also know nothing about his background except that he rose quickly and at a young age to be head of Quin-Bang. I would assume that he speaks English very well, and the only hint at his origin that I’m aware of in the Japanese is the kanji (character) for the pronoun “I” he uses, though he doesn’t pronounce it as it’s normally done in Japanese nor does he with a Chinese pronunciation. I would take this to mean he probably has little if any hint of a Chinese accent when he speaks English, and since he keeps company with nobles and was able to pass as a doctor, he likely speaks in a high-class accent.

I hope that satisfied, anon. This was a fun and different ask. I apologize I didn’t publish it sooner.

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rist-ix · 8 months ago

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OMG ✨YOU✨ REPOSTED MY ART WORK?!?!? QUPVSLADCKPXNXO OH MY GOD!!!

The person who wrote my favourite BloomxValtor fanfic??? IM GONNA CRY NOW.

I saw ✨SPARKED✨ on another website but ao3. It was a translation of your work. I'm gonna be honest, I didn't like it at first, because of the translation. But then I saw an original!!! I WAS IMPRESSED!! The translation I saw wasn't even close to your work.. and I felt bit disappointed because of that. I had feeling that the translation I saw was just a piece of Google translate.

So, the question I want to ask:

What do you think about the translations of your works? Maybe you are positive about that, but I just wanted to ask you, do you know that someone is translating your fanfic?

And once again, I really feel honoured of you reposting my art 🥹

(*reblogged! I reblogged art!! No art theft here folks!)

AAAAAH thank you so much! That means a lot to me! Also it's hilarious how everybody knows everyone here, this fandom really is a village lol. Your art deserves every word of praise btw, it's GORGEOUS.

I'm sorry to hear that about the translation. The only languages I’m really fluent in are German and English, I can’t really judge writing in any other language. And I’m more than flattered anyone would invest all that time and effort to translate something I wrote, so I'm alright if it’s a little flawed. Not gonna lie tho, you preferring the original version still kinda strokes my ego a little :3

I'm not sure what translation - or even what language - you've read, so I can’t speak for that one, but so far I've given like, two or three people permission to translate Sparked, into Russian and Portuguese I think. If there's a version in another language, I'm not aware of it. In general I’m very happy when people want to translate my fics, as long as they ask beforehand and link back to my ao3 for the original. With the internet changing the way it is though, I am worried about how that's gonna be in the future. This fandom is tiny so it’s not like there's a lot of potential for like, content farms or anything, but I don’t want to give a blanket permission I’d end up regretting.

So my general feeling about translations is pretty positive! With slight anxiety for the future.

#asks #I’d love to hear your thoughts on it though! since you've read the translation yourself and speak the language #you probably know more on the topic than I do #and thank u so much for reaching out to me with this it made me really happy!!!

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canimal · 1 year ago

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Translations to German? <3

Hi there! So sorry to disturb your day - I tried asking on ao3 but I don't think you respond to comments there? ... I was just wondering if you'd consider allowing me to translate some of your works (I am still reading up but I have enjoyed several of them soooo much!!) to German? My main account is on fanfiktion[dot]de which has a tiny minority of GOOD Death Eater-fics, and I'd just love love love to bring some of the goodness into the fandom over there. Of course, I'd provide a link to ao3 and/or your Tumblr and give full credits to you <3

German is my native language, but I'd consider myself rather proficient in English as well; so I'll do your lovely works justice. That's a promise :) I'd especially love to translate: Kiss me Good Morning A Single Act of Kindness Life Debt

Hope I am not being intrusive or pushy, I just love your writing style and your plots SO much. And let's be honest, Death Eaters deserve some love from the fandom. They need to be fleshed out to more than just "big bag evil guy's goons" ... Have a great day!! <3 Obsidian

Hello. I haven’t been on Ao3 for several days so I haven’t had a chance to respond. I’m sorry.

While I absolutely appreciate how much you’ve enjoyed my stories and your willingness to translate them (this is a huge compliment), I am not comfortable with my stories being translated into languages I don’t personally speak. I thought I had that on my Ao3 profile but just realized I’ve only stated that on my FFN. The profile has been updated.

It’s a shame that some poor experiences with translators in the past have made me very wary about ever trusting anyone to do the same with my stories. I’ve heard stories of translators completely changing the stories they were trusted to translate to make it how they would’ve preferred the story to go. That’s just very wrong.

I do really appreciate you asking and I’m very sorry to be disappointing. Others in the past have translated (or started to) my stories without my permission and that was upsetting.

Thank you for telling me how much you love my stories. Im very sorry again that I’m not comfortable with translations. I wish I knew German! That’s one language I would really love to learn. ❤️

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procrastinatingsoicanreadfanfics · 1 year ago

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@kaesosposts left this comment, and i’m finally getting around to replying (it’s been a long week guys)

“Hihi! I’ve been reading a lot of König ‘x reader’ fics on here that use a lot of nicknames, like Maus and liebling and schatz/schatzi etc. Can you do an explanation of various pet/nicknames like those? Like what they mean and how to properly use them? And what words does the German language have that are equivalent to more dirty nicknames? :>”

Okay, so i’m going to preface this by saying that a lot of Germans have taken nicknames from other languages into their daily vocab and some call their s/o babe/baby/etc. second thing to remember - german humour is DRY. If a nickname is especially corny, we might use it to tease our s/o, but i’ll go into that a bit more later. Third thing - i don’t think i’ve ever met a german that comfortably dirty talks in their native language. It’s not really a thing. I’ll still put some stuff down below but me personally? I could never.

Small grammar guide:

There are three genders that a noun can have in german: masculine (m), feminine (f), and neutrum (s). Neutrum sadly cannot be used for gender-neutral/inclusive language. There are also no gender neutral pronouns that i know of, apart from the “respectful” pronouns (Sie, equivalent to “vous” in french or “usted/ustedes” in spanish)

the possessive pronouns in german (which fic writers would need) are mein (s, m), meiner (m) and meine (f) (mine, my). So, if you wanted to say “my heart” you’d say “mein Herz”. This is because heart in german has the article das (s) which is neutrum. So, like you would in french, the possessive pronoun is related to the noun, not the person

this makes some nicknames completely gender-inclusive: Mein Herz, mein Schatz, mein Liebling

some nicknames are gender-specific such as “meine Liebe” (f) or “mein Lieber” (m) and have to be “declinated” (like conjugated but for nouns)

anyway, german grammar can be super complicated, so just shoot me an ask in case you have any questions!! Onto nicknames.

Nicknames for s/os:

Schatz: (treasure) This is a very basic one, something that a lot of people use on a day-to-day basis with their s/o. It’s similar in its usage to babe/baby in english. “Schatzi” would be the cute version of it, but i don’t really hear it being used all that often. Schatz would be a great go-to for domestic/fluffy/longer fics, especially with pre-established relationships

Liebling: (my love, my beloved) i think this may come across as a bit formal. I don’t hear it used very often, but its not necessarily something i cringe at all too much when i do hear it. It’s more something older people use, i’d say.

mein Herz: (my heart) not a very common nickname, but me personally? Absolute sucker for it. It’s very romantic, but the usage is about as casual as in english. Rule of thumb: if the literal translation into english is kind of out of the ordinary, it probably is an out of the ordinary nickname in german as well. Great for angst to fluff fics, romantic fics, fics with lots of emotions!

Maus/Mausi/Mäuschen: (mouse, and its cuter versions). Okay… this is a nickname some people use for their siblings. Not something i’d say, but i can see it with könig (and his size…). Please, no smut. I beg.

Schnucki: (no translation) PLEASE STOP WRITING SMUT WITH THIS PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE I AM BEGGING YOU PLEASE NO. This is not sexy dirty talk. This is one of the “i want to tease my partner’ nicknames. I have never met anyone that actually says schnucki. Don’t. Please. Just erase it from ur vocabulary/help sheets/…

Bär, Bärchen: (bear) this is a nickname mostly used for male s/os, and i honestly think it would fit König quite well. Maybe if someone wants to write a fic where the reader learns german, u could implement this (e.g. mein Bär -> my bear). Again, kind of plays into the size thing.

A few more “dirty” nicknames:

Again, i personally refuse to speak german in bed, im sorry. Neither do any of my friends/german online friends, but if you will write german dirty talk, here’s some things u can use:

Schlampe: (slut) is a word used in regards to women, works very well for derogatory dirty talk. Holds about the same weight/power of insult as its english translation. Works great imo!

Hure: (whore) this does not work as well as schlampe for some reason. Maybe that’s because it gives kind of archaic vibes?

Fotze: (cunt) if u find this translation online and think of using it -don’t. This is a heavy insult, one that could gain u a slap across the face. Do not, ever, insult a women with this word in a german speaking country if you want people to have respect for you. It’s okay if you did not realise earlier, but this won’t slide anywhere, not even in bed.

there are certainly more phrases u could use when writing german dirty talk, but i honestly can’t think of anything now. Feel free to shoot me an ask if u need anything else!

@/ all the könig writers. german mother tongue speaker here, please please please feel free to drop any german questions for könig into my inbox <3333

the german translators are… not good (which isn’t your fault!) and the nicknames you can find on google are usually pretty badly explained (again, not your fault)

feel free to drop into my inbox for just about anything (apart maybe a 300 word translation) from nicknames to smut phrases :))))

#Reblog #comment reblog #i feel like this is not helpful at all but oh well #let me know!

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primalspice · 2 years ago

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Ivy - 🎮, 🎶, 🔶, 🚫, 💯, 🎄 , 🍎, 💘, 🍸, 😊, 🤔, 😓, 👨,

🩺

🎮 VIDEO GAME CONTROLLER — what are three of your oc's favorite hobbies?

She really hasnt had time for hobbies in a long time but she likes reading and gardening and stress journaling

🎶 MUSICAL NOTES — what type of music does your oc like? do they listen to music very often?

I'm not going to say she's also a prog fan but im also not going to say she isnt.................... sorry idk wtf else is going on in the 60s-70s

🔶 LARGE ORANGE DIAMOND — does your oc know cpr? do they have any other medical expertise?

To both, of course. She can do cpr, first aid, plenty of other Doctor Things. Specifics of her medical expertise is that shes a medical oncologist but does radiation therapy also. has participated in Tumor Boards. has participated in research and experimental treatment distribution. and is now stuck in region zero with shitty supplies and unfair working conditions and depression. Great.

🚫 PROHIBITED — does your oc drink/smoke? do they do it regularly, or is it more on occasion or for special events?

On special occasions she'll drink, she's never the type to get super crazy with it unless its insane coping hour tho really. Cursed to always be the designated driver if it's a going-out occasion anyway -__-

💯 HUNDRED POINTS SYMBOL — share three random facts about your oc that others may not know.

1. YES she owned a gun for self defense. obtained from commies more willing to resort to violence than anyone in her immediate company at the time being. She eventually told Leslie about it, but not selma. one of the few secrets successfully kept between any portion of those three.

2. Faust gets to be named after irrelevant german folklore so so does she. her middle name is Lorelei.

3. Unlike her brother she is horribly afraid of public speaking. Research presentations or like. the entire process of moving to Region Zero even tho it wasnt particularly public (just stating her case to a bunch of new people all the fucking time) is all a fucking nightmare for her. But she perseveres <3

🎄 CHRISTMAS TREE — what is your oc's favorite holiday?

Her birthday, if that counts. Fuck the other guy who was born on that day tho.

🍎 RED APPLE — where was your oc born? do they still live in/around their place of birth or do they live somewhere else? how do they feel about their birthplace?

She and that other guy were born and raised in London Ontario and lived there most of their lives up until college. Ivy went to college in Toronto and continued to live and work there up until Region Zero. As for how she feels about it.... pretty indifferent? Shes of course homesick about it once shes stuck in Region Zero, but while she lived there i think she kinda felt she outgrew it. she didnt, really, but no point in worrying about that anymore <3

💘 HEART WITH ARROW — what and/or who do(es) your oc consider the most important to them?

Shes more individualistic than she comes off/than is expected of her by her Friends but Selma and Leslie are still her besties and still important to her people-wise. Faust too to some degree but ITS COMPLICATED. She liked him more before he sold out -__-

As for other things she finds important, she kinda has Faust's aforementioned disease to where she really feels the need to succeed and mean something to the world, but i mean shes kinda doing a good thing so ??????? she really Does care about helping people it's not entirely selfish, but i think anyone who has such high ambitions is a LITTLE attention-seeking. That doesn't really answer the question tho. What she cares about is healing people LOL towards the End she really struggled to find much purpose at all but generally speaking thats a priority, even if its unrealistic to do it on as large of a scale as she'd wish.

🍸 COCKTAIL GLASS — what is your oc's favorite alcoholic drink, if they can drink?

I think she likes to keep it classy with a wine/champagne situation but i think she should drink more and be less picky, god knows she needs it.

😊 SMILING FACE WITH SMILING EYES — what are your oc's career/general life desires? what do they want to get the most out of life?

She wants to be someone who helps people and helps the world. She wants to be an activist and leader in her profession and she wants to be remembered that way even after she's dead (before dying was an immediate concern, anyway) and she hopes its not selfish to hope for such a thing. SOMEONES gotta do it. It's not shocking that she was the perfect Region Zero candidate, tho, as someone who attaches so much of her worth and being to her career. but being a doctor is more than just a career, right, its PERSONAL. Shes someone who just wants to do the right thing, but if theres two things shes learned its that there never is a right thing and the closest thing to the right thing will never be enough.

🤔 THINKING FACE — what are some of your oc's quirks/mannerisms?

Shes a very quiet/shy/softspoken person in comparison to her obnoxious friends, regardless of her level of unhingedness over the years. She is often caught lost in thought and people think shes really introspective which i suppose is true but its mostly just the depression. She is very accidentally and/or deadpan funny. She suffers from a Canadian accent.

😓 DOWNCAST FACE WITH SWEAT — is your oc open-minded or stubborn? are they inquisitive or do they prefer to keep to their bubble of knowledge?

She's openminded and inquisitive, maybe a little too much for her own good clearly, but she can stick to things that actually mean something to her....except maybe cutting of her shitty brother.....or not using guns.....but that's besides the point. She loves learning and going to new places and hearing different experiences. One might say region zero was the perfect opportunity for that at least <3

👨‍👩‍👧‍👦 FAMILY WITH MOTHER, FATHER, SON AND DAUGHTER — how many people are in your oc's immediate family? how many people are in your oc's extended family? do they have aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents, etc? who in their family are they closest with? are they close with their birth family, or do they have a found family?

She grew up with her mom and dad and Faust, who's her only sibling. They were quite spoiled and loved ofc. Im sure they have some grandmas and cousins and such that were also relatively close, but not like her best friends or anything. I think she eventually grew real distant from just about everyone once she started becoming more intense about her work, but the love was still there. when she (and faust) left for region zero, they were rightfully quite concerned but figure that if the Good Twin chose to do it then it couldnt have been too awful of a decision. Oh little did they know.

#ask game #ivy

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historiesandmemories · 4 years ago

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Fic - Postcards

Fic about an idea @ghostsandmirrors were talking about.

Famine walked slowly through the quaint back roads of this new town, enjoying the quiet peace of this place. She’d been in cities too long—Budapest, Vienna, Salzburg—so the lack of bustling people and squealing cars was eagerly welcomed. Here people moved slowly, tending the gardens, walking with pets and family. It was quaint. It was nice.

Hooking her thumbs into her backpack straps, Famine couldn’t help but smile. Peace was so rare, especially for her. She might have to stay here for a little while, a week, maybe a month if she was lucky. Just savor the peace and quiet.

Things got a little louder as the town center unfolded around Famine, but it was a soft kind of noise. She stopped on the street corner and looked out at an open, gravel lot that was occupied by a small amphitheater and rows of benches that flowed out into docks and then a glistening lake. Stone buildings fractured out along small, paved roads all around her and a church rose upon from crumbling graves to her right. This place just looked like peace.

A small tourist shop across the street caught her eye. Carousels of postcards occupied the sidewalk outside and Famine could see various other trinkets inside. The postcards were what really grabbed her attention, though. Famine had started sending postcards to Bringer a while ago as she marauded across the Earth. She’d started sending them on a whim, having spotted a postcard that reminded the horseman of them, thinking it would be a one-off sort of thing. But Famine had kept it up, sending a postcard every once in a while. There was never much too them, not even a message written on the back. Just a picture of wherever she happened to be passing through and a name, usually Charlie, scrawled in her awful, stick-like handwriting.

Crossing the street quickly to avoid being hit by a bumbling car, Famine stepped over to one of the carousels. She thumbed through the postcards slowly, taking in the pictures of beautiful scenery and the ridiculous doodles paired with silly phrases. Maybe she should send another postcard to Bringer.

Sudden loneliness hit Famine as she looked through the cards. It was like a punch to the gut and she even had to quell the burn of tears at the back of her eyes. It had been about five months since she last saw anyone she knew, about seven since she’d seen Bringer; she’d been going through a small town in Russia and had passed them trying to escape a very angry person whom they’d just informed of a loved ones death. They’d ended up running all over town together, even when they were probably well out of danger. It never hurt to be overcautious.

Remembering that made the loneliness stronger. Being on her own rarely bothered her these days—she’d been on her own for so long—but it was like she’d suddenly been cast into the ocean with a stone tied to her ankles and she was sinking into the feeling quickly.

Famine wanted to be with friends, with people that knew her. She wanted to be with Bringer. She wanted to go home.

Where the hell was home these days, though?

“Guten tag, Frauline.” [Good day, ma’am] The voice shattered Famine’s melancholy thoughts and made her jump slightly. The old lady who had appeared around the postcard carousel chuckled a little, “Etschuldigung.” [Excuse me/sorry]

“Nein, nein, [No, no]” Famine stuttered, “Alles ist okay. Ich habe Sie nicht hören. Sie spazieren wei eine Katze.“ [It’s all good. I didn’t hear you. You walk like a cat.]

The old lady chuckled again and shook her head slightly. “Werden Sie eine Postkarte schiken?” [Would you like to send a postcard?]

Famine glanced at the cards again before nodding. “Ja. Ich werde eine Postkarte für mein—“ [Yes. I would like to send a postcard to--] What? How the hell to classify Bringer, especially in a language that was too gendered for its own good. Schatzi [treasure] was too mushy, Liebling [favorite] seemed inaccurate (there were plenty of times when Bringer was certainly not her favorite person), and Freund [friend] was first off too masculine and second too vague. “Mein Liebe,” [My love] she finally said. Liebe worked well enough.

“Ooh,” the old lady cooed, “Wie süss.” [How sweet] Famine couldn’t help the soft laugh that left her lips; she was rarely accused of being sweet.

“Wir haben viele Postkarten für Liebespaar hier.” [We have many postcards for couples here] The old lay stepped over to another carousel, giving it a light spin to show Famine the options. Couple laughing together under umbrellas and phrases about loving someone to the moon and back filled the racks. Famine resisted the urge to practically grimace at the overt romance of it all and instead shook her head.

“Ich will eine Postkarte mit einem Bild von einem See,“ [I want a postcard with a picture of the lake] she said, stepping back to the first carousel. She scanned her options quickly until she came upon one that looked right. Plucking it out, she held it up to show the shopkeeper. The old lady smiled and nodded before beckoning Famine over to the counter.

Having fished the appropriate amount of Euros from her wallet and letting them clatter onto the dish, Famine gathered up the card, “Danke schön.” [Thank you very much] The old lady smiled brightly, giving a small nod in response to the thanks. “Wo ist die Post?” [Where is the post office?] Couldn’t be far given how small this town was, but it never hurt to just ask.

“Ums Ecke.” [Around the corner] The shopkeeper motioned the direction and Famine glanced where she was pointing.

“Vielen Danke.” [Thank you very much]

Famine wandered out over the gravel lot with the amphitheater and down to a small path between the docks and the restaurants along the lakeside. There was more of a crowd here, occupying tables and strolling in groups. Chatter filled the air. Famine passed through it quickly as she could, emerging into a small park with a fountain and several chairs overlooking the lake.

A pair of chairs sat on a small balcony that jutted more out over the lake and Famine mae her way over to them. The horseman settled into the chair and hugged her backpack to chest as she looked out over the lake. She’d never been to the Salzkammergut before, but it was stunningly beautiful. She wasn’t sure the postcard did it justice. She pulled the small sheet out of the paper back the old lady had put it in, the horseman held it up to the scene in front of her. It wasn’t far off, but it only captured a fraction of the total view. Altogether, Famine could understand why humans thought the Almighty was so magnificent.

Turning the postcard over, Famine looked at the blank back and wondered if, for once, she would put anything more there than just a name. It never made sense to her to write anything. It wasn’t like there were stories to tell about her wanderings; they were solitary and full of lots of walking. The postcard said as much as needed to be said, told them where she was, or at least had been. There was nothing else to tell.

Famine retrieved a pen and book from her backpack, placing the card against the hard surface in order to scrawl ‘Charlie�� onto the back. She had to concentrate to make the English letters look like actual letters instead of just splatters of ink. The Calpurian alphabet was far from Latin based, looking more like chicken scratch. That had made learning to write English very difficult; she’d yet to try to learn to write any other language.

Sitting back, the card just seemed too bare. She tapped the pen gently as she thought before sitting forward to add another line, just two words. Miss you. Famine wasn’t even sure it was legible in her awful scrawl, but she hoped Bringer could make it out.

Satisfied, the horseman rooted around for the stamps she knew were in her bag and applied a couple before adding one more for good measure. Famine stood and pulled her backpack back onto her shoulders, setting off for the post office.

Evening was setting in as Famine strolled along the lakeside once more. She’d sent the postcard on its way and wandered town for a bit, discovering a school just over the river. It was really a very pretty town and she was determined to stay for at least a bit.

The chairs she’d sat in earlier were free so, the horseman ventured over and folded herself into the chair. She set her backpack back in her lap and rested her chin on top of it, staring out at the slowly setting sun. Distantly, she could hear a polka being played and people laughing. Around her, groups of friends, families, and couples enjoyed the dying evening with ice cream and one another’s company. Famine tried not to think too much about them, but the empty chair beside her made her loneliness all too acute.

Wrapping her arms tighter around her backpack, the horseman blinked back tears for the second time that day. She wanted to go home, but where the hell even was that anymore? Even if it existed, it was a person she didn’t know how to find. So, she just sat there, staring out at a golden skyline, alone in a crowd of people, wondering what to do next.

#ch; famine #fic #so for those interested #this is set in a town called Strobl Austria #which is where I did my study abroad #the school mentioned is the Sommerhochschule #and i studied there for about a month (which is the length of the program) and was in a very similar mind set as fam #sad and homesick but also happy with the scenery and teh peace of the place #it is beautiful #but i'd already been abroad for two weeks in Germany and Hungary #and then the people i thought i was friends with turned out to be super lesbaphobic #and tried pushing their male friend on me #and in general it just felt scary and not good #BUT i learned a lot and met some relly cool scholars so it wasn't a total loss?#but also #ghostandmirrors #also im so sorry if any germans read this or just anyone better at german grammar than me #bc im shit at grammar in ANY language #im only decent at english bc i grew up speaking it #but i tried

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skiijumpinng · 5 years ago

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yes i am studying german in college so it seems kind of logical for me to know it, but the other day i read a 6k lellinger fanfic written in german and only had to look up a couple of words, which made me the proudest of myself i’ve been in a while

#idk why im posting this on here #but i always feel so insecure about my german #and i literally avoided reading stuff in german with the fear of not understanding it #but fanfics kinda made me do it #and it felt good to know what was going on #also watching german tv is a good way of hearing new words #but the thing is that not every german is understandable #sorry andi #stephan and werner speak so nicely for a non native to understand tho #k i need to stop ranting #does anyone even read these #personal #lellinger

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genderisafuck · 1 year ago

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1. Are you named after anyone?

Nope. My mom picked the most generic name possible but gave it a french spin to make it look interesting. Nobody spelled it correctly as a result. The name I picked later came about because me and my friends were looking for some nice new name for me. Also not related to any famous person or whatever.

2. when was the last time you cried?

Literally like an hour ago. Today was a little stressful :(

3. do you have kids?

no never. i like money!

4. what sports do you play/have played?

All of them. I played football for half my life like any other child, then table tennis, basketball, chess, shooting range, hockey and probably more. Ended up sticking to none of them except for the shooting range every once in a while. Gotta know how to use a gun for reasons

5. do you use sarcasm?

Thats like 90% of my personality and humor yeah. Im German, dry sarcasm is all i have

6. what's the first thing you notice about people?

Always the hair. Especially when it looks super pretty

7. what's your eye colour?

Brown. Generic af but theyre kinda pretty in the sunlight ive been told

8. scary movies or happy endings?

Scary movies are scary me no like

9. any talents?

idk. im smart i guess? i speak english fluently. im pretty proud of that. thats it me thinks

10. where were you born?

The industrial capital of Germany. Not a livable place

11. what are your hobbies?

listening to music, reading and video games. i can explain league of legends lore to you for a day straight. also everyone needs to read 1984. its a very good book i promise

12. do you have any pets?

2 kitties

13. how tall are you?

1,76m. Or 5´7 in Freedom

14. favorite subject in school?

History. i still get invited for coffee by my old history teacher lmao. nothing but respect for the guy. hes a big reason why i took so many history classes in uni.

15. dream job?

well i used to be a part of the local socialist party and wanted to make a career there after uni but theyre dissolving so i dont really know. teacher maybe? professor?

tagging others (sorry if you've already been tagged lmao) participate if you want

@afemwolfboy @nycartscene @syllyyy @agaypsychicrat @wolffuwu @kobuskobus

15 people, 15 questions

Thank you @transboyzuko and @kiki-strike for tagging me!!

1.) Are you named after anyone?

Nope. My parents nearly called me Isabella but they chose Sofia last minute (I’m glad they did bc it’s Portuguese and there’s also like a million Isabellas.)

2.) When was the last time you cried?

Thursday last week bc I watched a movie in class that I didn’t expect to be triggered by but Oh Well.

3.) Do you have kids?

I don’t even have a job 😭

4.) What sports do you play/have played?

I’m absolutely terrible at every conceivable sport and hate it with a passion but I did play netball for like, six years when I was really young. Still shit at it tho lol.

5.) Do you use sarcasm?

When I need to, yes. But not if I know it’s gonna upset someone.

6.) What’s the first thing you notice about people?

Their eyes. I don’t know why it’s so random but I’m always drawn to eyes, maybe it’s because they’re the window to the soul or maybe it’s bc that’s the centre of the face and I’m scared shitless of first impressions and always think about Eye Contact.

7.) What’s your eye colour?

Green but it shifts from forest green when I wear dark green clothes to lighter green when I wear (shocker) lighter green clothes.

8.) Scary movies or happy endings?

I cannot be paid or coerced to watch anything vaguely scary so I’m strongly on the happy endings side. I just want my fictional characters to have good lives man 😭😭

9.) Any talents?

Well, I am a bit of an artist. That’s quite underground though, I’m not sure if people know? (I’m not funny) No but seriously I draw, sing, act, write, play3 instruments, I can do accents? If that counts lol. My friends say my ability to be nice to anyone is a talent, which is sweet so I’ll add it :)

10.) Where were you born?

Idk I just was

11.) What are your hobbies?

Drawing, singing, writing fanfic (guilty pleasure), reading fanfic, playing instruments, history facts (yes I’m a nerd shut up)

12.) Do you have any pets?

Never had one :’)

13.) How tall are you?

5’7 and still getting taller

14.) Favourite subject in school?

English english english I knoWW we all hate writing essays but uh. I don’t? It’s kinda fun actually 😭 and I like analysing poems? Uh. My English teacher is a gift to the earth so maybe that’s why

15.) Dream job?

Psychologist. I’ve always wanted to help people (especially teens) with whatever they’re going through, neurodivergent people, queer and trans people. Literally anyone who I can help. I know it’s a hard job, and it takes a lot of work, but honestly? Seeing people happier or if I can help at least one person would be worth it :)

Tagging people who might already have been tagged uhhhh but it’s fine probably

@adriancatrin @haroldtea @please-dont-burn-out @electro-strike-zukka-time @erisenyo @divorcedzukka @strrwbrrryjam @sukiluvvs @sukidude @bonksoundeffect @blu3berrydraws @mike-queerler @myguiltyartpleasure @moncuries @marriedzukka

#196

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zuluc · 4 years ago

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summary: the production of genshin impact is amazing! now let’s see what the actors are really like separate from their characters

style & genre: bulleted; modern!au, general fic

warnings: mentions of drinking

notes: another idea that’s popped into my head! this is pretty random but i’ll be updating more parts if you guys like it☺️

Aether and Lumine aren’t actually related in real life, they just look so much alike that they thought they were long lost siblings. Even off set they act like brother and sister because it feels natural after spending so much time together

Their phone contacts for each other are “my twin” and their greetings are always “i found you!”

Paimon uses a green suit to hide the lower half of her body but when she was getting used to “flying” around, she would forget that she didn’t actually fly and would step on other cast members’ toes: most of which were Aether’s

Bennett is the luckiest guy on set and actually pulled two five stars in a ten pull and hit 30 pulls to get another five star, however, he is really clumsy and trips over air every three seconds even if he watches where he walks

Diluc and Kaeya don’t hate each other but have a mutual rivalry over certain beverages. At one point they stopped talking to each other for a whole day because Diluc said the alcohol Kaeya brought him tasted cheap

Speaking of Diluc: he, Aether, and Albedo use the same brand of hair oil, only to realize when they sat next to each other and commented how familiar their “cologne” was

The drinking buddies (Kaeya, Beidou, Rosaria, Venti, Lisa, and Scaramouche) hang out on their days off sometimes

Klee really likes to be around Kaeya or Albedo because she thinks they’re good-looking. She gets excited when she’s in the same scene with either one of them so her personality is really genuine on screen

Albedo keeps chapstick in his pocket and uses it periodically between scenes. He zones out quite a lot because he gets bored easily. Yells at people to hydrate but in like a calming voice

Qiqi is already a pretty quiet kid but she likes to act and her role was perfect for her. You might see her sitting in the director’s chair when the cameras are rolling because they want her to see what she’s a part of. aw

Mona likes her hat and keeps it on most times but it always wacks people in the face when she turns. She doesn’t mind when it hits Scaramouche because he has his own hat. They have impromptu hat battles sometimes to which the costume designers get nervous about

Fischl can’t speak German for the life of her and she really likes Jojo’s and laughs in references with Razor. You might think she’s still in character off camera but no, that’s just her

Zhongli is possibly the richest person on the set but everyone else pays for all of his expenses just because. He does pay for everyone’s coffee especially when they have an early morning shoot

Scaramouche, Keqing, and Xiao have a group chat where they poke fun at other cast members showing up late and then proceeding to roast them behind their backs

They also like to change their lines in the middle of a shoot like Keqing ranting about the archons but instead she replaces them with other cast member’s names; Scaramouche replacing “when did i give you permission to issue your own orders” with “i’m hot aren’t i;” and Xiao repeatedly saying “can i eat something other than almond tofu please” or “i feel bad for this guy, he needs a hug” while looking straight into the camera

Xiao is actually a shy guy who is very kind to everyone around him so the cast was surprised when he started saying character lines because they never heard that tone in his voice before. He was mildly flustered afterwards from the compliments

Out of all the cast members, Aether forgets his lines the most even though he doesn’t say that much. When he forgets he autopilots to “windblade!”

The younger cast have a group chat to keep each other accountable for their early shooting times. But they all forget and end up late to the reading table

Signora actually did punch Venti in the stomach too hard on accident and they had to take a break as she apologized profusely to which Venti kept reassuring her that it was fine; got his gnosis back after the scene was over as symbolism for “i’m sorry i punched you in the gut really hard”

Barbara sings like an angel and the theme song for the series is written and sung by her

Childe stared at his prop bow for a good five minutes when he first got it and told the director that he didn’t prepare in using a bow but for “dual-wielding.” (plot twist: they never actually told him he was using a bow as a weapon but they knew he was a fast learner). All of the shots of him using it are genuine confusion as to how the thing works

One time with his last shot, he threw the bow on accident and hit Bennett

During the cast interviews, Venti likes to do them all with Zhongli or Xiao because they actually let him talk as much as he wants without overpowering his already loud voice

When he does it with Paimon, they tend to blow out the surrounding people’s eardrums so they were never paired again haha

Other interview pairings are Ningguang and Beidou and people like watching them together because of how soothing they sound and just the overall way they talk to each other

The opposite with Kaeya, Childe, and Lisa interviews. They keep flirting with the interviewers and viewers

“Hey girlies, watch the next episode” wInK

“Seize the day. Watch us again tomorrow night 8:30pm PST” wOnK

“What a cutie, would you like to see us again?” im blushing

Honestly, anyone could listen to Zhongli talk all day so he has longer interviews because even the people asking the questions want to keep him for longer

The whole cast is like one big family and whether they’re protagonists or not, they all have a close bond behind the scenes

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sleepy-ocean-girl · 7 years ago

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Me: *is german*

Me: *watches an american movie*

"German" person in the movie: *appears*

Person: *talks in "german"*

Me: Ahh yes the good 'ol german... Yes I totally understand what you are saying, german person. I have no doubt that in fact you are german. And I totally don't need to use the subtitles for this scene. Yes these screams are german words that I can understand, thank you. And of course "Liebchen" the only word we totally use for our significant other, yes.

#im sorry if im to passive aggressive #but seriously #how hard can it be to find someone who can actually talk german #you want some advice hollywood?#we actually say words and not scream them at eachother #so anyone reading this who's not german im gonna let you in on a little secret #all the german guys in supernatural for example: none of them actual spoke german the way german people speak #they all made it sound way harsher and i had not the slighest idea what they were saying #or the guys in captain america?#they had a slightly better pronunciation #but it was still really hard to understand them #the german you hear in movies is not german

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derailedfiction · 4 years ago

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The Most Wanted | Baron Zemo | The Falcon and the Winter Soldier

Part 2 Pairings: Helmut Zemo x Fem!Reader | Sam Wilson & Fem!Reader | James Barnes & Fem!Reader Word count: 6017 (sorry) Warnigns: swearing, a bit of kissing, shooting Summary: As Reader’s presence is exsposed the only way to get to Zemo is to cooperate with Sam and Bucky.

A/N: Reader is German-speaking which means that ¾ of what she says is in that language. If she speaks with Zemo, one to one, I switched to English (pls pretend it’s still German xD). Also next time I’ll put translations next to German version. It will be easier to read probably.

You grunted as you were seated on a chair, and quickly restrained with a rope around your arms and hands. You scanned the room looking for Zemo but he was nowhere to be found. As your search did not bring you any satisfactory answers, you set your eyes on the other man, expectantly.

“Was kann ich für sie tun?” you asked calmly with a nonchalant smile.

“What?” Sam looked puzzled at James, and back at you. “What does it mean?”

“She asked what she can do for you, Sam,” Zemo answered leaving the bathroom with a bottle of cologne and a towel in his hands.

“Well first of all she can tell what the hell is she doing here,” you observed the dark-skinned man with much amusement. He seemed to be quite annoyed with the situation.

“Warum ist er so verärgert?” you asked Zemo, still carefully observing Sam.

“What?” he asked again, clearly agitated that he did not understand what you were saying.

“She wants to know why you are so annoyed,” Zemo replied, spreading some cologne on his hands and then on his neck with a gentle pat.

“Can’t she speak like normal language?” Sam sat down on the couch with a helpless expression.

“Wha–at?” you mocked Sam with a silent laugh. You saw a corner of the Baron’s lip went up for a moment.

“I don’t really understand why the whole world should speak English, Sam. Oh, mein Gott, Y/N, sprichst du noch kein Englisch?” Zemo looked at you with a question in his eyes. A similar question was in Sam’s eyes as he desperately wanted to know what was happening.

“Nein, aber ich verstehe was er hat gesagt,” you shifted on the chair you were restrained to.

“She will not speak English, even though she understands you,” Baron translated.

“What do you want?” you felt observant gaze received from James.

“Ihn,” you pointed at Zemo with wide grin. “Ich wollte euch beide zuerst erschießen und ihn dann nehmen.

“She wants me and wanted to kill off the two of you before,” Baron replied emotionlessly.

“That would add up, she had a sniper rife literally next doors,” James said, “Who beat you up like this?” he asked after a moment, pointing at your bruised lip and a black eye.

“Die Wakandanerin. Sie dachte, ich würde sie zu Zemo fuhren. Aber dann hat sie mit dir gesprochen,” you smiled lightly towards James as you thought, it was kind of him to ask about it.

“The Wakandian did it to her as she thought she would lead her to me. Then, the Wakandian has spoken to you, James. It’s quite surprising how fast they sent somebody to fetch me.”

“Is it really?” James looked at him with disbelief. “I bargained us more time to deal with things, so no need to thank me.”

“It was sweet of you to defend me at least,” Zemo turned from the window and lightly nodded towards James, much to his dismay.

“You killed T’Chaka and now Nagel” Sam echoed, and yet Baron shrugged that information as he would an irritating fly. “How long do you follow us?”

“Seit Madripoor. Übrigens war dein Tanzen komisch, Zemo,” you winked at the Sokovian with silent laugh. You were way too much enjoying this questioning.

“She was following us since our visit in Madripoor. Ich dachte, ich habe dich dort gesehen, Y/N,“ he put his hand on your shoulder and squeezed it lightly.

“Du war recht,” you turned your head to catch glimpse of his figure behind you. The smell of cologne he used was rather intoxicating.

“Is it me, or you two like know each other?”

“Yes, we have worked together before and as I said, I had a feeling that I saw Y/N during the party,” he answered and went to examine kitchen shelves. “She’s one of the best bounty hunters I have known, and it’s a delight that she’s hunting for me now.”

“Man, you have some strange definition of a delight…” Sam stated, crossing his arms. “Why you hunt him now?”

You fell silent for a longer moment not really wanting to tell why.

“Meine Schwester –” you started talking.

“Her sister was kidnapped and is held by someone. She will be released only in exchange for my person,” Zemo translated simultaneously, playing with a cookie on his finger. “She doesn’t know who that is. Y/N only received a video with her sister and information about what she’s supposed to do. If she cannot fulfil the expectations, her sister is going to be killed. Es tut mir sehr leid, Y/N.”

“Hör jetzt auf, Zemo. Du kümmerst dich nur um dich selbst und zerstören Super-Soldaten. Das ist es,” you felt closely examined by him and then he did something most surprising for you.

“I don’t believe she will pose any threat to our cause. I do think that she actually can be quite an asset.”

The three of you looked surprised at Zemo. Sam and James because they both thought dealing with another shady character would be too much. And you because it would make your job so much easier, just to use distraction and snatch Zemo right from their noses.

“Wunderbar! – No!” the three of you exclaimed at the same moment.

“Why not? I would get three watchmen, making sure I would not escape,” he continued undisturbed by your sudden vocalization. “Moreover, Y/N is excellent in hand-to-hand combat and is trained in any kind of weaponry.”

“I don’t even…” Sam started and put his hands in the air as if he surrendered to this whole situation. “I mean, it’s not bad to have additional pair of eyes on Zemo but is it worth it? She’s a criminal too.”

“Right now, we have bigger problems. Karli bombed a GRC supply depot,” James started reading the latest news on his phone.

At that point, you stopped listening to them, as they were deliberating on the subject you were not that much familiar with. Even though Zemo offered a solution for your presence in the team, no one was willing to untie you from the chair. You sat there observing the place carefully, trying to find a perfect way to run away at some point with your prize.

You kept your gaze on Baron for a long moment. He bustled around the kitchen as if he did it every day, without a break of several years in a German prison. Of course, it was impossible for him to forget how the Avengers were responsible for the deaths of his family and yet, it was bizarre for you that he decided to cooperate with them. As you knew him from the past, Zemo would cherish the very thought of destroying this particular group of superheroes, showing them how very human they indeed were. Still, you just witnessed how Baron threw a Turkish delight towards Sam as if he were giving him a treat for a great lead to follow.

“Du starrst, Y/N,” he stated indifferently, handing you some tea.

“Danke,” you thanked him, even though you had no opportunity to drink it. “Ich kenne dich und bin dennoch überrascht, wie du diese Männer behandelst. Sind sie nicht deine Feinde, Zemo?”

“Im Moment sind sie nützlich. Das ist alle,” he answered you and from the look on his face you knew that Baron Zemo had already a plan.

“What are you talking about?” Sam came closer to the two of you.

“Y/N is surprised that I cooperate with someone that I swore to destroy,”

“Well, you can count me in, Y/N,” he replied as he undid the bonds. “One wrong move and you two will be handcuffed to me and James.”

“Das hört sich nicht so schlecht an,” you rubbed your wrists sightly worn from the rough rope and drank tea from Zemo.

“I’m afraid my dear friend that she rather liked that idea,” you winked at Sam coquettishly as he rubbed his face in disbelief.

“Was machen wir jetzt?”

“We are going to ask some questions about Donya’s funeral,” James answered your question, “We gotta move.”

Within fifteen minutes you were ready to leave the apartment, and since James and Sam did not want to take any chances leaving you alone, you were walking in pair with Zemo.

“Ich bin überrascht, dass du nicht versucht hast, sie zwischen Städten zu verlieren,” you said to your companion as you walked.

“Nun, wie ich schon sagte, sie sind ein Mittel zum Zweck, das ist alles,” he replied. “Was hast du in den letzten Jahren gemacht?”

“Nichts Besonderes, aber ich war für 5 Jahre wegen dieser Snap weg. Jetzt bin ich hier…”

“Man, don’t you worry about what are they talking about? They could be like planning escape or something, to roll us over,” Sam said to Bucky, cautiously observing the two of you in front of him. “It’s just wrong…”

“It’s not, they’re talking about the past. She was gone after Thanos snapped,” Bucky replied quietly, trying not to give up he’s able to understand German. “She’s still quite lost after she got back.”

“Can you blame her? Or anyone in such a situation? It’s pretty fucked up…”

Bucky cracked for a moment listening to your conversation, “She just told him, she would have killed him back in Madripoor and she didn’t just because of their shared past.”

“Damn man, they have some unresolved issues under those smirks and sass.”

You turned around feeling the gazes of the two of them on your back as you were speaking with Zemo. They were walking behind you, keeping a reasonable distance, and talking about something rather lively.

“It is shame of what became of this place,” you rose your eyebrow lightly looking around the small courtyard, which wasn’t in its best condition.

“I’ll go check upstairs. You keep eye on him,” Sam went up for the next floor and you were left alone with James, as Zemo softly humming a lullaby came closer to children.

For a moment two of you stood in silence watching how Baron was approaching children, and then you asked, “Du verstehst mich, oder?”

“A little, yes,” James answered you. If he was surprised how quickly you found out about it, he didn’t show it at all.

“Was machst du mit ihm? Wenn du er nicht mehr brauchst?” you crossed your arms following James’ stare.

“He’s going back to the prison.”

“Und die Wakanderin?” you heard long sigh from him, he did not really know what to do in this situation.

“I’m not sure. Zemo is too dangerous to let him be unsupervised, or to be intercepted by a shady character, no offence.”

“Nicht genommen,” you smiled lightly.

“Now, what the hell is he doing?” Sam came closer to the two of you, seeing the idyllic conversation between Zemo and children.

“Wish you didn’t hear him sing – What?”

“Cute kids,” Zemo said as he passed the three of you heading to the exit.

As you left the CPR facility, you had a feeling that someone was observing you as four of you walked down the street back to the apartment. You observed each passing by person, sensing something was going on.

“Was ist los?”

“Jetzt nichts als ich denke jemand folgt uns. Der Power Broker hat Leute nach drei von Ihnen geschickt,” you replied quickly turning around your head.

“Achtung!” just as you saw the mercenary take out the gun, you pushed Zemo away and took the bullet. A sharp pain tore your arm as you landed on the ground next to Baron looking at you surprised. “Was?”

“Warte,” he took out the knife and tear for pieces your sleeve to create a tourniquet above the wound. “Versuche es zu drücken, Y/N.”

You nodded holding your arm firmly, trying to prevent any further bleeding. On the other side of the road, James was just knocking out the assassin.

“We should move. I don’t want to take any more chances with other killers,” Sam helped you stood up.

“Und der Söldner?” you asked.

“He won’t be conscious for longer time and we will probably be somewhere else. Come.”

Four of you hastily returned to the quarters, making sure no one was following you. Sam and James armed themselves with additional weapons as they wanted to be sure you were safe in there.

“We’ll go and check whether this place is safe. You two stay here, understood?” Sam told you as he went out with James.

You stood in the middle of the room trying to gather yourself to do something with the wound you have been pressing. You took few steps towards the bar and made yourself two drinks, one of which you immediately drank.

“Now, take these, it will help with the pain.”

“Yeah, thanks,” you took the pills from Zemo and swallowed them with few sips of whiskey. “Now, if you allow, I’d like to take care of this,” you pointed at your arm wound, as you slowly went to the bathroom and closed the door behind you.

As you were finally alone without any sympathetic or wanting-to-help gazes, you sighed loudly and quite shakily. It was not your first time being shot, and honestly, you knew that having Zemo around and babysitting him for not to get killed, would mean more bullets to take.

You sat down on with tiles of the floor, observing how blood was slowly dropping on it creating a small plash. You moved your fingers carefully, trying to determine whether some muscles or tendons were damaged. It hurt badly. Burning pain ran through your whole hand up to the arm wound.

“Fuck,” you whined quietly, and you rested your head over the edge of the bath.

That was not the plan at all. At last, the pills you got were starting to work as your pulsating pain did not bother you anymore. Slowly with the biggest caution, you could have at that moment, you removed the makeshift bandage and examined the wound. It was still bleeding, rather profusely, despite the pressure band over the injury. The longer you stared at it, the more light-headed you felt.

You heard somebody opened the door and Zemo entered the bathroom. You had not had enough power to say something sarcastic about his way of respecting somebody’s privacy.

“What are you doing? I don’t need any help,” you observed Zemo as he sat next to you with a first aid kit.

“I’m not going to do anything. But you might need this if you really want to take care of the wound,” you snorted and took the kit. “Why did you do that? Why did you take a bullet for me?”

“Does it really matter?” as you heard nothing from the man, you looked up and saw Baron watching you expectantly. “I must deliver you alive if I want my sister to stay alive,” you answered hesitantly, cleaning the wound.

“It is admirable how dedicated you are to your sister, Y/N.”

“Is it though? If not her I would be free as wind getting other shady figures for actual money. Not to mention that it was not, the plan,” you scoffed and gritted your teeth as the wound began to burn hellishly.

“I would do anything to save my family.”

“I know Zemo, I know it,” you agreed looking at him softly, and then you sighed heavily. “I will need your help with it. I thought the bullet went clean through, but I can’t see any exit wound.”

“How could you not know it?” he asked in growing amusement.

“I don’t know man. I am high as kite, Zemo. I don’t really feel that much,” you looked blankly at the hole in your arm for a moment before you gave him a pair of forceps. “I will cut the wound from both sides and you have to take the bullet out, got it?” He nodded in agreement.

You proceeded with careful cuts along the edge of the wound, as precise as you could. You took a deeper breath and nodded for Zemo to try and retrieve the bullet. Even though you were on strong painkillers, it was almost impossible to not move or whine.

“Don’t move, Y/N. I almost have it,” you grabbed the bath edge firmly trying not to shift any more.

“Easy to say… Fuc–” a cry of pain escaped your mouth in the same moment as the bullet was taken out. “Oh, God that was awful. I will never get used to it. Thank you,” shakily you reached for a needle and thread to close the wound.

“Let me,” he took over the instruments and without further ado, he quickly stitched the wound and put a fresh bandage over it.

“Hey! You alive in there? We heard some screaming,” you heard Sam from the other side of the bathroom door and lightly smiled.

“Yes, it’s alright,” Zemo answered as he helped you to stand up from the floor.

“He cares, doesn’t he? Even if you did him wrong, he cares.”

“Yes, he does,” Sokovian agreed. Still supporting you, he led you to the sofa, on which you fell with relief as you were feeling more and more dizzy. “Du solltest dich ein bisschen ausruhen, Y/N. Du hast ziemlich viel Blut verloren.”

“Yeah, yeah, was auch immer,” you weaved him off impatiently and laid down with your feet up.

You felt absolutely awkward that you got yourself shot because you pushed Zemo to the side. It was probably one of the dumbest things you have ever done. Well, if you counted being caught by Winter Soldier, that is the other dumbest thing you did. It was not your best day at all. You heard somebody was clamouring in the kitchen pouring water into a kettle and then into small cups.

“How are you?” You looked at James, who asked you the question.

“Gut,” you replied shortly, taking the cup of tea from Zemo. You felt in fact a bit better as the medications you were given truly kicked in.

You pressed yourself deeper into the sofa with your eyes closed, trying to rest for a while. You disconnected completely from external stimuli, focusing on your breathing, and calming the heartbeat. Even though you lost some blood, you didn’t feel that bad.

Suddenly you heard the sound of breaking glass and louder exchanges. You opened your eyes and looked at Zemo surprised as the Americans went dealing with their things.

“You can’t play with others, can you?” you asked with a soft chuckle making him some space on the sofa to sit. “I know you probably have some plan but still, being followed by the Wakandians, and bounty hunters, and probably some other killers it’s not an easy thing to cope with.”

“You think I need protection?” you showed off your arm. “I don’t need any, I am perfectly able to use my mind to gain in every situation.”

“I’m just saying that playing on different fronts at the same time always ends rather badly,” you finished off your tea and put the glass on the table.

“What can I say, I am a wanted man,” you snorted lightly at his words. He was truly the most wanted man at the moment.

“What was that tea again?”

“Cherry blossom, why?”

“I feel – dizzy,” you said unsure. You looked at the glass and at him, and then back at the glass. And then it clicked. “You little –”

“Shh, mein Schätzchen,” he immediately caught your falling head and swiftly stood up, making a place for you to lay down. “You will sleep for some time.”

You felt so heavy and dizzy, you had no power to fight with him. The last thing you saw was Zemo unfolding a blanket and putting it over you.

“What’s wrong with her?”

“Nothing Sam, she just fell asleep after the pills I gave her to ease the pain,” Zemo lied without a blink of an eye and made sure you were comfortably sleeping. “We should probably move.”

***

You woke up sometime later, just as Zemo said. What he didn’t mention was an extreme headache you got as soon as you opened your eyes.

“What a fucker…” you murmured as you got up from the sofa, throwing the blanket on the side. How thoughtful, you thought ironically looking at the material.

There was no one in the apartment and as you figured out, they have probably been gone for the funeral ceremony to talk with Karli. You moaned softly, rubbing your temples in hope that the pain will go away. It didn’t do anything and bright light coming through the stained windows wasn’t especially helpful either.

You wandered around the room and kitchen to find some painkillers. You suspiciously sniffled tea in a small metal box, still remembering what Zemo did. As you thought about it, if he didn’t get into a quarrel with James all of them would be asleep and Zemo would have been far away. A perfect getaway.

“Rather shameful not to carry it to the end,” you said to yourself washing down the painkiller with a drink. But then again, it was Zemo considered so he probably saw another opportunity for him to run away.

As slowly the painkillers once again started to work, you decided to go back to your rented room and take your belongings. It was hard to guess when your company would be back and you didn’t want to risk them, at least James and Sam, discovering you were gone, and the hideout was left unsupervised. But then again, you shrugged your arms carelessly it was not your responsibility to look after it.

You poured water into a kettle and put it on the burner of the stove. I’ll be back before the water boils, you thought and took one Turkish delight on your way out.

In fact, you got back just in time to take the kettle off the heat and make some tea for yourself and you started to explore the residence in search of some clothes to change. You did not really think it would take that much time to extract Zemo. It was supposed to be a day, give, or take. The whole situation of you being captured and somehow kept hostage was not included in the plan.

You took off your torn blouse and dropped it on the floor, in search of something new to wear. You looked through one of the few wardrobes that had any clothes in it. Mostly male, but you also found a few dresses and children's clothes. As tempting as it was to wear one of the dresses, you felt it would be somehow a sacrilege to wear Zemo’s wife clothes. Instead, you chose one of his purple shirts and tried it on. It would suit you nicely if not the zip across the chest which was a bit tight, so you had to keep it slightly unzipped.

You returned to the kitchen, finding yourself extremely hungry if not ravenous. Eating more Turkish delight would do no good either, as they were extremely sweet. Rummaging through kitchen cabinets you found ingredients to make a stew and you thought everyone could eat something warm. You quickly chopped some vegetables and put them in a ceramic casserole along with meat and seasoning. Now all you had to do was to wait and control if it’s not burning.

“Du siehst gut aus in meinem Kleidern,” you heard suddenly as you were checking up the food in the stove.

“Danke,” you kept your smile for yourself and you turned around to see three men coming in. Zemo went straight for a piece of cloth and wet it in ice-cold water, which he put over his eyes as soon as he lied on the sofa.

“I thought you would be gone, the second you wake up,” Sam was rather surprised to see you casually cooking.

“Warum? Ich muss ihn abfangen. Er ist mein Ziel,” you took out the stew out of the oven and put it on the counter.

“And you made us food?” you took four plates out of the cupboard and put them on the table along with silverware.

“Ja, warum nicht?” you were quite content of yourself as the food smelled wonderful and you took pleasure in cooking it. You missed your domestic life dearly especially knowing it was impossible to get it back.

“Das ist sehr nett von dir, Y/N,” you muttered under your nose to his words and poured him some bourbon. Zemo looked as you could use some.

„Und mich zu betäuben war nicht sehr nachdenklich von dir, Zemo,” you replied angrily, handing him the drink as he lied on the sofa with cold patch over his head. „Was ist mir dir passiert? Bitte essen.”

With the move of your hand, you showed Sam and James to sit at the table and eat what you have prepared.

“She invites you to eat,” he translated, slowly drinking his bourbon. “Der neue Captain America warf seinen Schild auf mich ,” he then replied to your question and removed the compress.

“Was?” you chuckled at the mere thought of him being knocked out like this. “Komm, du muss auch essen.” You encouraged Zemo to join the Americans at the table and eat together.

The four of you sat awkwardly at the table as you were putting food on the plates and handing them over to each of them.

“So, Sam would you consider taking the serum if you were offered it? Hypothetically speaking, of course,” you said nothing just rolling your eyes internally. What a perfect question to ask at the table.

“No,” he cut it shortly between the bites.

“No hesitation? That’s admirable.”

You looked at James sitting quietly as you and eating. You sensed he was still tormented by his past and listening to them hypothetically speaking about taking or not the super-solider serum was uneasy. You felt sorry for him being used as a pawn in other’s men fight. Living without the ability to decide what to do must be haunting, let alone the knowledge of your forced actions.

“Danke,” you heard from him as he finished eating.

“Gern geschehen,” you couldn’t help but to give him a warm smile and watched him go to another room to get some rest. He was still bothered by his past and even though he tried his best to make it go away, it did not work as he wished it to work.

Zemo as he finished, also stood up but helped you with cleaning the table and putting dishes into a dishwasher. Then once more he retrieved to his favourite, horizontal position on the sofa with another drink and cold compress. Unfortunately, his rest didn’t last long as two men stormed into the apartment.

“All right. That’s it. Let’s go. I’m now ordering you to turn him over,” Walker said authoritarian pointing at Zemo.

“Shield or no shield, the only thing you’re runnin’ in here is your mouth,” Sam confronted him as everyone tensed up for inevitable conflict. “He’s actually proven himself useful today.”

“Who is she?” Walker pointed at you rudely as soon as he was denied getting Zemo.

“Temporal associate,” you heard Sam answering in your favour.

“Another criminal? You two are just falling down as you collaborate with such people,” he summed that up in his pretentious, all-knowing manner. He looked at you for a moment. “John Walker, Captain America.”

“Ich weiß das,” you muttered to him.

“Can’t she speak like normal language?” you heard Walker scoffing.

“You know, people can use different languages too, Walker. Maybe learn another?”

“That’s how it’s going to be, Sam? Should I put my shield down, to make it fair?” Sam smiled lightly with disbelief. That man was insufferable.

The atmosphere was tense, and it was seconds away for Sam and Walker to start the fight. It was postponed for a while only due to a sudden appearance of a spear that stuck into the column right next to Walker’s head. The Dora Milaje arrived, and they had no fucks to give.

The leader of them start talking with James in Wakandian, and you knew it was the time they wanted to get Zemo to pay for what he has done.

“Hi, John Walker. Captain America.”

Is he dense or something?, you thought looking at how thoughtlessly his actions were. Even you knew not to disregard Dora Milaje nor to interfere in their businesses, and he was going straight into it. You saw his partner being a bit agitated by the sudden entrance of warriors.

“Sagt er das jedes Mal, wenn er sich vorstellt?” you snorted watching how Walker was trying to talk reason to the Wakandian, and even you knew it was one of the stupidest things he could do.

“Yep,” James said pouring himself a drink.

As you have foreseen second after John’s hand was on Dora Milaje’s arm he was doomed as three of them attacked him and Lemar.

“Are we going to do something about it?” Sam asked James, who took quite a pleasure observing the fight.

“Looking strong, John,” he shouted back at the fighting men.

You could not help it as a short laugh escape your mouth. It did not take long for Sam to join the quarrel and shortly after James followed him.

As Falcon and Winter Soldier came into the fight, you approached Zemo and asked, “Should I also fight them as your champion? To get the right to, have you?” you smiled cheekily over your whisky.

“You can have me any moment, you want Y/N,” you choked on your drink. “Now, if you excuse me.”

You watched him taking a bottle of alcohol and aggressively zeroed his glass. Then undisturbed by anyone he went to the bathroom and just before closing the door, your eyes meet. You perfectly knew Zemo was escaping and all you did was to raise your glass towards him and finish your drink.

That’s going to be fun, you thought pouring another glass of whiskey, watching how everyone is getting their asses whooped.

***

“How could you let him go?” you held up your arms in a gesture of ineffable incomprehension of your act.

“C’mon man, it’s not that we need him that much now. We must focus on our mission, Bucky. I know it’s hard for you, I know it, but we can’t blow it away,” Sam put his hand on James’s shoulder and squeezed it lightly, trying to reassure and comfort him.

“I helped him escape from Berlin that was enough for Dora Milaje,” James said sternly and stopped in front of the building they had set up a meeting in. “You can’t go in, Y/N, two of us is already too many.”

“Klar,” you agreed and watched them go inside the beast’s belly.

You walked down the street, heading to a small square located in this part of Riga. You surprisingly found yourself enjoying this short stroll without anyone to interrupt you or anyone to chase after. Quite a lovely vacation you could have had. You liked this city as it had interesting history and architecture that survived Second World War.

The fountain in the middle of the square was captivating and a lot of tourists were taking pictures of it. You were surprised that despite incidents caused by your company, there were organised groups and sightseeing tours. You admired the monument for a longer while until you noticed something on the opposite side of it.

“I thought you would be far away from here,” you approached slowly Zemo, standing in the shadow.

“I thought about it but then again I feel somewhat responsible for how everybody jumped to each other’s throats just to be able to get me.”

“Isn’t that what you are famous for? And don’t tell me you feel bad about it,” he looked at you and smirked.

“Bad, no but it’s rather tiresome for me. I don’t really take any joy from it,” Zemo hesitated for a second and you could tell he dropped some part of his act. You could have seen the very broken man who was the reason for the Avengers split. “Why not a dress?”

“What?” you were taken by surprise with his question.

“There were few dresses in the closet, and you decided to take my shirt,” you looked at Zemo frowning.

“I won’t do anything to it, if that’s what you mean,” you tried to laugh it off, but it wasn’t successful. “I thought it would have been strange to wear your wife’s.”

“I wouldn’t mind if someone could do a good use of them,” he smiled sadly. “Anyway, I enjoyed your company today. It reminded me of your visits when I was imprisoned.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, staring blankly at the pavement. That was quite charming of him and you smirked at this thought.

“Yes, me – ” you stopped talking at the sudden sound of breaking glass and crushing metal.

In front of you two men were fighting, of which one was much more superior. You watched Walker throwing his shield again and again at the man, treating him like a training bag.

What the actual fuck, you thought as you heard other man pleading for his life, but Walker was out. He didn’t hear him nor listen to him, there was something more going on. He put the shield up, above his head and allowed his rage to take control over him. Walker repeatedly smashed the head of the poor man several times with his shield and then he stood with it.

Unmoved. Triumphant in his imagination. Covered in blood splashes. And the shield bathed in bloody strains shimmered ominously. The new era of superheroes has arrived in its brutal glory. Unstoppable. Utterly frightening.

“Jesus and that is how Captain America deal with things now?” you couldn’t believe your own eyes, as Walker murdered a man in daylight. “Now, I can see more vivid than ever why super-soldiers pose a threat to the order.”

“The whole world is watching, and they know what he did. He will be never forgiven for such a barbaric act. Previous Captain America stood for what the US wanted to be, righteous and good. This one, he’s … he’s what America is like. Brutal and not afraid to kill anyone who wronged it,” you listened to Zemo seeing how every single one of passing by people were with a phone, recording or even streaming live this whole situation.

“Where are you going now?” you looked at him for a moment, still cautiously monitoring the surroundings, trying to digest the terrifying view.

“Sokovia, or rather to what is left of it…” Zemo answered looking plainly before himself. “Will you give me a week?”

“I will give you two days tops before I go after you again, Zemo.”

“Good enough,” he smiled lightly and looked at you. “Don’t you want to come with me?”

“Nah, I’m good. I want to be around here and see how this will develop.”

All of sudden he caught your chin and moved it up, and then kissed you gently. You stood in awe, trying to figure out what on earth was going on, as you were not completely over that you have witnessed Captain America going apeshit. But after a moment of suspension, you kissed him back.

“Care to explain?” you asked as you separated from the kiss.

“People tend to feel uncomfortable when they see a kissing couple and I didn’t want to be filmed,” he said with a charming smile. “I don’t want Sam nor James to find me before I want to be found.”

“People or you wanted me to feel uncomfortable?” it felt strange but in a good way. You only hoped that he wasn’t trying to play with you as well as he did with others.

“And are you?” you rolled your eyes with a groan. He was acting impossible. As he managed to temporarily escape his guards, Zemo was probably going to be even more of himself than he already was.

“I will see you in two days, Zemo.”

“That’s the plan,” he smirked and disappeared into the crowd.

________________________________________________________ German vocab.: Oh, mein Gott, Y/N, sprichst du noch kein Englisch? – Oh my God, Y/N, can’t you really speak English? Übrigens war dein Tanzen komisch. – By the way, your dancing was ridiculous. Ich dachte, ich habe dich dort gesehen. – I thought, I have seen you there. Du war recht – You were right.Es tut mir sehr leid. – I’m very sorry.Hör jetzt auf, Zemo. Du kümmerst dich nur um dich selbst und zerstören Super-Soldaten. Das ist es. – Stop it now, Zemo. You only take care of yourself and to destroy super soldiers. That's it.Wunderbar! – Wonderful. Du starrst. – You are staring. Ich kenne dich und bin dennoch überrascht, wie du diese Männer behandelst. Sind sie nicht deine Feinde, Zemo? – I know you and am still surprised how you treat these men. Aren't they your enemies, Zemo? Im Moment sind sie nützlich. Das ist alle. – Right now, they are useful. That's all. Das hört sich nicht so schlecht an. – That doesn't sound too bad. Was machen wir jetzt? – What are we going to do? Ich bin überrascht, dass du nicht versucht hast, sie zwischen Städten zu verlieren – I'm surprised you didn't try to lose them between cities. Nun, wie ich schon sagte, sie sind ein Mittel zum Zweck, das ist alles – Well, like I said, they're a means to an end, that's all. Was hast du in den letzten Jahren gemacht? – What have you been doing in the last few years? Nichts Besonderes, aber ich war für 5 Jahre wegen dieser Snap weg. Jetzt bin ich hier… - Nothing special, but I was gone for 5 years because of the Snap. Now I'm here… Du verstehst mich? – You understand me, yes? Was machst du mit ihm? Wenn du er nicht mehr brauchst? – What are you going to do with him? When you no longer need him? Und die Wakanderin? – And the Wakandian? Nicht genommen – Non taken. Was ist los? – What’s going on? Jetzt nichts als ich denke jemand folgt uns. – Nothing now but I think someone is following us. Der Power Broker hat Leute nach drei von Ihnen geschickt – The power broker sent man after the three of you. Achtung! – Watch out! Warte. Versuche es zu drücken – Hold on. Try to push it. Und der Söldner? – And the mercenary? Du solltest dich ein bisschen ausruhen, Y/N. Du hast ziemlich viel Blut verloren – You should take a rest. You lost a lot of blood. Yeah, yeah, was auch immer. – Yeah, whatever. Gut – good Mein Schätzchen – darling Du siehst gut aus in meinem Kleidern – You look good in my clothes Danke – Thanks Warum? Ich muss ihn abfangen. Er ist mein Ziel – Why? I have to intercept him. He is my target. Ja, warum nicht? – Yes, why not? Das ist sehr nett von dir – That’s nice of you Und mich zu betäuben war nicht sehr nachdenklich von dir – And knocking me out wasn’t very thoughtful of you Was ist mir dir passiert? – What have happened to you? Bitte essen – please eat Der neue Captain America warf seinen Schild auf mich – The new Captain America threw his shield at me. Was? – What? Komm, du muss auch essen – Come, you too should eat. Gern geschehen – You’re welcome Klar - Clear

#zemo x reader #baron zemo x reader #helmut zemo x reader #tfatws #sam wilson #james bucky barnes #john walker #zemo #baron zemo #helmut zemo

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antihero-writings · 4 years ago

Text

Before it Kills You Too (Ch2 Snippets 1, 2 & 3)

Fandom: Lore Olympus

Chapter Summary: When Hera gets into a car accident after a fight, Zeus has a moment to ruminate on their relationship. Written using the song “Wait” by Maroon 5 as a prompt.

Character Focus: Zeus

Please note!! This is the previous Ch2 snippets I posted + a new snippet (the new snippet starts with “I would venture to guess she was driving too fast.”)

I’ve been having trouble with this chapter for a very long time, so I’ve decided to post it snippet-by-snippet, because that seems like the only way I’ll successfully finish this fic.

While this should be as close to the final version as it can be, anything in this snippet is subject to change when the full chapter comes out. (And, hey, to that end, if there’s anything you think needs to be edited here, please kindly let me know!!)

Im really excited about this snippet!! Definitely one of my favorite parts of the chapter!!

Thanks again SO much to those who support this fic and want to read more!! The fact that you want to read more really does mean the world to me!! I appreciate your kind comments so much!!

I’d really appreciate it if you could leave a comment and/or reblog!!! I’m not kidding when I say that makes my week!!

Tagging some folks who’ve shown interest!! @jayyy007 @autumnmoon21 @sunsetsofanemoia, @lynnie51 @what-the-fuckaroni @masquejj

And please do let me know if you’d like me to add you to a taglist for this fic, or message you when new snippets/the next chapter come/s out!!

Chapter 2 Snippets 1, 2 & 3:

Hera was standing in the crowded meadow, surrounded by her friends, laughing that girly little giggle full of sunshine that just about made Zeus’ heart ooze in a puddle out of his chest.

Her blue dress made her eyes look like two shimmering sapphires.

“Have I seen her in a dress that color?” Zeus inquired excitedly from behind the bushes.

“How can we know what you’ve seen?” Aidoneus muttered. “With you creeping around, you might have seen her naked for all we know.”

Zeus punched him in the arm, (lightly).

“I don’t think she’s worn a dress that color!” Posiedon bubbled.

“Thank you, Posiedon. At least someone can answer a question.”

“I think she looks like the sea on summer day.” He put his hands on his face, them sliding slowly.

Zeus eyed him. “Alright, keep it in your toga, Little Green Man.”

“Should we really be here?” Aidoneus muttered. “We weren’t invited.”

“Oh come on,” Zeus stood up, putting his hands on his hips. “Who wouldn’t want to see the King of the gods here?”

Poseidon grinned and stood up behind his brother. “No one!”

“Hestia, Demeter… assorted sane people.” Hades muttered as he stood to follow.

“If that’s sanity I’m glad I’m insane.” Zeus trilled as he strutted up to the entrance.

A cute pink nymph—(rather well endowed in the chestal region—not that he noticed!)—greeted them at the archway.

“Oh! Zeus!” She flushed and bowed. “It’s an honor. Welcome!”

“Why it’s an honor to meet you, my lady.” He kissed her hand, and she giggled. “See?” he turned to his brothers. “They’re delighted to have us.”

“I’ve got a bad feeling.” Hades muttered.

Hera was closer now; she smelled like summer, and she looked like it too. Poseidon was right about the ocean thing; she practically shimmered as she spoke with her friends.

“I’m gonna go talk to her.”

“Wait—!” Hades was soon swallowed by the crowd.

Zeus scooched behind her at lightning speed. One by one her friends began to take notice, their eyes widening.

Hera took a step back and would have tripped in surprise if he hadn’t caught her.

“Careful there, you might fall, Birthday Girl.”

“Oh, Zeus!” She looked up at him, the back of her head hitting his chest, “hi!”

That golden smile.

“I made you something!” As she spun to face him, he produced a little carving of a bird from his pocket. (And, no, he didn’t make it).

“Oh!” She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, gently taking it from him, “It’s beautiful!”

All his responsibilities and stresses melted away with the sight of that smile, and he forgot there was anyone else at the party…in the world.

(…He wished he saw that smile anymore.)

Zeus’ chair was spinning empty at his desk before his assistant could say another word—

And Olympus wept, distant peals of thunder rending the sky into pieces.

Lightning crackled and cackled through his hair, creating violet tracks through the air, as Zeus sped through the sky.

It was freezing, and people were staring, but he didn’t care.

All that mattered was getting to his wife.

“My you look stunning.” Zeus sidled up behind his wife, running his fingers gently along her arm. “Is that a new dress?”

“New as that girlfriend of yours.” Hera grunted.

His eyes widened with shock, his voice with an indignant undertone to it. “Is something wrong?”

She paused a moment. He could see words fluttering behind her lips—(like they did so often, too often)—the words Yes you did something wrong, how can you not know?

He knew she wouldn’t believe him when he said he didn’t mean to hurt her.

“You weren’t invited,” she said softly.

“Not invited? Me?” He put his hand to his chest, like the thought of him ever not being welcome to somewhere was absurd. “To what?”

“The party, you nitwit!” She whirled around, her hair nearly whipping him in the face. “You just came barging in like you owned the place!”

“Well…to be fair—”

He stopped short at the look in her eyes, like two blue-hot flames.

He knew it was taking her a great amount of effort not to slap him.

“Do you know how long I’d been preparing for that?! How long it took me to get everything just right? I told you, but you never even listened, did you? And then you just barged right in!”

“Why are you so upset? What’s so important about a party?!”

“They were my friends.” Her gaze softened, and her tone became more serious. “They were—” Until she cut herself off, and her expression hardened as she whirled around, her hair billowing behind her.

“Bunny, wait!” His tone was softer too.

He wished she’d just turn around. That he could say sorry.

Was it really so hard? He should have started there.

Had he ever apologized for that?

He was always doing that; barging in where he wasn’t welcome. The world was his, yes but…he had to concede there were some parts of it he ought not just barge in on.

When he burst into the hospital, however, they wouldn’t dare tell him he wasn’t invited, wouldn’t dare tell him he couldn’t see her.

“Where. is my. wife?” Lightning slammed into a lamppost just outside the front door, shattering its glass box, and making the light spark, the rain pounding at the window like rabid dogs.

The desk clerk looked like she was about to pee out of sheer fear.

“Sh-sh-she’s not out of surgery yet, your majesty...I understand you want to see her, but I can’t let you…until-until they’re finished.” She was practically vibrating. “I assure you the moment she gets out, we’ll notify you.”

Surgery? He wanted to demand. She’s the queen of the gods, how could she be in surgery?

Electricity sparked in his eyes, trailing throughout his hair. He could say I demand you let me see her. He could say I don’t care! She’s my wife, and I’m not waiting! She’s fine! She’s the queen—she’s my queen—she won’t be hurt from a little car accident!

But there were some places he ought not just barge in on… and the surgeons room was probably one of them.

The lightning let out a sighing crackle, before he closed his eyes, his hair falling back upon his shoulders. It was then that he noticed he was dripping wet from head to toe. He sighed himself before muttering something like a garbled “I understand, thank you.” And turning to sit in the lobby. Behind him the desk clerk’s coworker held her to keep her from fainting.

He snapped his fingers, drying off, so as not to get their nice, barf-colored carpet all wet. Once he sat down in a chair—(the cushions didn’t have any cush to them)—a kid in the chair across from him scooched away.

He could have that kid lightly charred if he wanted.

Instead he settled for a nice glare, and reached over to pick up last month’s—(or maybe it was a few months ago)—issue of “Goddess weekly” listening to the rain die down to a drum.

The same old gossip. Usually if he picked one of these up he’d check for any news he ought to be aware of. You know, as the king. Not to mention the ladies weren’t unappealing. Now he flicked through without seeing any of it.

Speaking of ladies, there was a nymph sitting across the room from him, her skin blue, her ears down, and a cute little half smile. She surely wasn’t in here for anything serious. She kept glancing from her own magazine to him—but not in a nervous way. If he wasn’t mistaken, she wouldn’t be opposed to a session of hide-the-German-sausage.

If he wanted he could take her there in a darkened closet in the hallway. It wouldn’t take long—(if it didn’t need to…or it could take all night). That would be a nice way to relieve the stress bubbling in his body.

—Someone was laying next to him, her skin smooth, practically glowing. There was rather a lot of it exposed.

She turned over, her eyes fluttering open, a small smile creasing her features as she rolled onto his chest, tickling his chin with her fingers.

“I had a wonderful time,” she twittered, and he practically purred, staring into those big blue eyes, glittering like river stones.

He pushed her green hair behind her ear.

“Is that all? I’d like to think a night with the King of the gods would be more than merely ‘wonderful.’”

She giggled. “No no, it was much more than wonderful! It was spectacular! Mind-blowing!” She threw her arms in the air.

“That’s more like it.” He grinned—

When was that again? Two years ago, or two days ago?

It could have been either.

Had he apologized for that?

Would it have mattered if he had? Would she have forgiven him? Would he have stopped?—

Bile rose in his throat, and he dove his nose so hard into the magazine he almost smacked himself with it.

His wife was bruised and bleeding, and potentially worse in a nearby room, at the mercy of some quack holding a scalpel and a few comforting words…and here he was thinking of betraying her for the…

How many times had it been now?

He threw the magazine back on the table and sank in the chair till his head was nearly on the bottom cushion, his lip flapping his he blew out a breath, making his hair fly up a little.

The kid and his mom got called, and seemed glad of a reason to leave.

After a healthy dose of moping he pulled out his phone. After checking fatesbook and playing a few games he decided it was time to open his messages.

He didn’t want to be alone. He wanted some sensible and non-conjugal company.

He scrolled through and clicked on a name.

A number of old conversations sprinkled the page, often detailing Zeus asking about getting together and the correspondent saying they were busy.

He thought a moment about what to say—(a rare occurrence for him)—before deciding any vague requests would probably get ignored, so he simply decided the boldfaced truth:

Hera’s been in a car accident. She’s in surgery.

“WHAT?!” The word was spoken aloud—and very loudly at that.

Hades was standing in front of him. If the king being here wasn’t enough reason for weird looks, this outburst had sent more than a few eyes their way.

Zeus did a finger wave at the nymph, before he grabbed his brother’s arm, whisking him off to a less crowded hallway.

The only thing here was a vending machine, and a few overly picturesque pictures of trees.

“How did this happen?!” Hades shout-whispered.

“I would venture to guess she was driving too fast.”

“I could have gathered that myself, thank you very much!” Hades was clearly trying not to shout. “What was she doing?! Where was she going?!”

Zeus rolled folded his arms. “Does it matter?”

“Sure it matters! Well at least it’d be good to know!”

“…I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?! What do you mean you don’t know?! She’s your wife—!”

“I said I don’t know!” he kicked the vending machine.

The air shattered and reformed itself.

Zeus sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, his voice softening. “I…I don’t know.”

Two sides of him warred. One wanted to shout at Hades. He expected him to know where she was at all times? Oh yeah, that would go over well with her. What kind of helicopter husband would he be then?

And yet, it felt wrong for him not to know. Like some sort of failure. She was his wife. Shouldn’t he? Shouldn’t he have asked? Shouldn’t he care?

Hades’ gaze softened.

“I upset her.” Zeus murmured. “We got into a fight.”

Hades leaned against the wall. He was probably resisting the urge to say he could have gathered that too.

Zeus leaned his head forward onto the glass of the vending machine, his hair falling to the side, his reflection vaguely eyeing him.

“We got into a fight and she…I hadn’t even realized she went for a drive.” He paused, observing the chocolate and chips sitting in neat rows in the machine. “Do you think she liked Twyx?”

“Huh?”

“Do you think she liked Twyx?”

Hades pondered it a moment. “Probably. She tends to like things with caramel in them.”

Zeus smiled wryly. “See? I didn’t even know that.”

“I’m sure you’ll be able to ask her all your burning questions about her favorite candy flavors very soon.”

“That’s not the point.” Zeus whispered.

Zeus was feeling a little off-kilter.

He nearly fell into a three-thousand drachma vase.

Okay, make that a lot.

The sound of heels on the staircase. The white one they’d painted for that one event…what had they been celebrating again?

His hazy gaze made her glitter even more than usual.

“Have I ever told you that you’re like the sea on a summer’s day?” Zeus’ voice came out blurry. He put his hand in his hair, trying to look sexy, you know, like the kind of guy you’d wanna forgive.

This was met by her hair slapping him in the face as she walked by him. She paused a few steps below him, turning.

“Is that alcohol I smell on your breath?”

“I may have had one—“ He hiccuped, “or five, appletinis.”

“And this is what? An intelligent conversation you’re trying to have?” She folded her arms over her chest.

“Actually,” he held up a finger. The action made him feel off-balance so he leaned against the railing, trying to land in a sexy pose. “There is something I wanted to say.”

“You’re barely coherent when you’re sober, at least spare me until then.”

He rolled his eyes—(and made himself feel even dizzier).

She turned to go back up the stairs.

“Wait!” He shouted.

She stopped, looked over her shoulder, eyes narrow as a cat’s. “What?”

“I-hic!” He covered his mouth as if embarrassed. Clearly emotion was dangerous. “I wasn’t trying to get wasted! I just-hic!-needed more than three or four to say this.”

“Oh yeah? Spit it out Grape Sorbet.” She folded her arms over her chest.

“I’m…” he held on to the railing for support. “I’m sorry.”

She raised an eyebrow. “I’m listening.”

“You…You were right.” He took a step closer.

“About what?” Her breath bated.

“I just…I didn’t want to admit it. I couldn’t…” He looked away. “I couldn’t tell you sober.”

“About what?” The words had a rough edge to them, her chest heaving with breath.

Ah. She knew. She knew what he was going to say, even before he said it.

“I…I did cheat on you.”

“Wh-What?” Her eyes tinted red…but there was so much hurt in the word.

Fear and shame rose in tandem like ocean waves, threatening to bowl him over, and he realized that the truth wasn’t going to help at all. But all he could do was let it pour out of him.

“You-hic-You asked if I was with-hic—”

“Stop.” She covered her mouth as if to keep the worst words from spilling out, tears welling in her eyes.

“But I—”

“I said stop!” Her voice rang through the room like something shattering.

Maybe something was.

Her heels against the stairs, fast and sharp, and away.

“Wait!”

Turn around please, let me apologize, let me explain, I won’t do it again.

He threw up in the vase.

“Daddy? What was that all about?” The small voice made his blood run cold. “What did you cheat at? Were you playing a game?”

Zeus turned, horrified, to see Ares, hiding behind a crack in the door.

“I shouldn’t have yelled at her.” He breathed. “It was stupid, really.”

Hades put a dollar in the vending machine and punched in a number.

“People say all kinds of things when they’re angry. Doesn’t mean you’re bad, just means you’re people. Which…” Hades looked him up and down, adding under his breath, “I wonder about sometimes.”

“...You must think I’m a terrible husband.”

Hades grabbed two chocolate bars and handed one to his brother.

“I think you need something sweet, maybe a little hydration, and some rest.”

Zeus unwrapped the bar and took a bite, not really tasting anything.

After a moment Hades sighed.

“It’s not so simple as that.” Hades said between bites, “I don’t necessarily think there’s such a thing as a ‘terrible husband’ or ‘the best husband.’ I…I don’t even think there’s such a thing as good and bad people. There’s just…people. There’s just husbands. But there are rules that come with being a person, and/or being a husband and…” he paused, trying to choose his words carefully, “you don’t always follow those rules.”

Zeus fell back against the wall, looking at the floor, denials dying in his throat.

It was raining.

No, actually it was pouring. And thundering. The lightning was like cracks in a collapsing sky, and Zeus’s gut was twisting like the snakes on the head of a gorgon.

“What? You-you think you can just undo this?!” Hera’s words were biting. “It’s done!” Her laugh was wry and sardonic, like an ache in her throat, red tainting the blue of her eyes. “You can’t just fix something like that! Once someone cheats at the game no one else just keeps playing!”

“It was a mistake! One stupid night!”

“One stupid night, huh?! Then how do you explain this?!” She held up his phone. The pictures. The…Oh Gaia.

The snakes in his gut bit down, and he bit his lip looking away. He hadn’t known she knew about that.

“You’ve got it all wrong! That was just—!”

“I thought you were different!” She bit off his excuse, the anger cracked, and the pain was bleeding through, and he wasn’t the only one making it rain: A tear fell down her face, then another, her mascara running black along her cheeks. “You made me smile, you made me laugh! You saved your brothers from your father. And I thought we could make a kingdom—a world—together!” She shook her head, grimacing, trying and failing to keep more tears from falling. “I thought we could be something!”

“We are! We have! I just made a mistake! I—!”

“No, Zeus.” There was a finality to her tone.

Tears streamed down her face now. He hated it when she cried. She didn’t do it often, and whenever she did he was ready to smite whoever hurt her but…he’d hurt her worst of all.

“I thought you were different. But you’re—“ the words were like an antique vase, riddled with cracks. “You’re just another bad guy.” She punched him in the arm, and the vase broke, the defiance into pain. She punched him in the arm…but it was weak and far too soft, and that’s how he knew she was really hurt; she could bring the sky down on him if she wanted.

She looked down at her hand, twisting her wedding ring with a finger.

“I’m staying with a friend tonight.”

Her wedding ring tinkled on the floor.

As she turned and walked away the word rang out like he was hoping his voice alone could rewrite his sins and bring her back:

“Wait!”

She didn’t stop, didn’t turn, didn’t make any indication she’d even heard him.

“Please…Please just wait.” These were soft.

He fell to his knees on the marble, scooping up her wedding ring and enclosing it in his fingers, holding it to his forehead, and trying not to bring the sky down upon himself.

He’d seen her angry. He’d seen her sad. But this? Seeing her break for him…was so much worse.

It reminded him too much of another time. Of a scar on her stomach. How she broke herself just to be his.

—(And he wondered, for a fleeting moment, if it would have been better if he had been the one to break.)—

“There you are!” Said a voice. “You can come see her now,”—a cleared throat— “your Majesty.”

Notes: Aright, so this chapter had a few things I was unsure about I thought I’d ask about here!

1. Does anyone have any other clever play-on-words for candy brands? I feel like Zeus would know that she likes caramel in general, so it’d make more sense if Hades said “she likes [X similar candy] so she’d probably like Twyx.” But Twyx is all my brain came up with and I don’t even know that it’s all that good XD

2. I’m aware that the gods don’t call each other “people” they call each other “beings.” However, Hades’ lines don’t have as much impact with “beings.” Did the fact that I used “people” stick out too much? Should I change it to “beings”?

3. I know Ancient Greek wedding ceremonies are different from ours, and they might not even have wedding rings. But that image was so impactful for me I decided to use it. Should I remove it? Or did you find it impactful?

Please let me know if there’s anything you felt was inaccurate to their characters!!

Thanks so much for reading!! 💕💕

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