#it��s in moment like this that you wonder because there is just something in arthur’s words

[leosxrealm]

ꜱᴀᴜᴅᴀᴅᴇ

pairing(s): prince! Arthur Leclerc x male! knight! reader

warning(s): mentions of injury, mentions of death, royal au! forbidden romance(?), angst

(a/n): a lot of backstory and angst. also this was inspired the moodboard i made. and inspired by the song– sign of the times by harry styles. also the dynamic was kind of inspired by patrochilles from tsoa.

wc: 1.6k

!not proofread!

"Y/n! Uncle!"

You hear the high-pitched voice of a young boy. On turning around, you see him running towards you. But he never reaches you.

You let out a sigh. Seeing Arthur trip on his own feet was not an uncommon sight for you. You could never understand how a prince could be so clumsy. You walk over towards him, helping the poor boy up.

"Prince Arthur," your father greets him with a small smile.

"Uncle!" the younger beams.

"What brings you here, your Highness?" your father asks him, curious about why the youngest prince was near the soldier's quarters, which happened to be on the opposite side of the Prince's room.

Arthur stills for a second, gathering his thoughts. "My father has requested your presence. He said something about- about-" He trails off, not remembering the rest of what his father had said.

Your father smiles down at him. You didn't know what he found amusing about him. Your father turns to you, giving you a small smile, "I have to go. Please take care of Prince Arthur and escort him back to his room."

"Yes, father."

---

You look around the hallways as you walk behind the youngest prince. The royal quarters were completely different from what you were used to.

Arthur's room soon comes into your field of vision. It was only a few paces down Prince Charles'. "Do you want to come in?" he asks excitedly, eager to show you the new toys his father had brought from his recent travels.

You accept his request. It's not like you could say no to a Prince; you were a nobody compared to him.

---

You had been practicing your sword skills near the river bank before you were disturbed by the presence of another person. It took you a second to recognize him. After all, you didn't expect him to be here. 

"Hello!" he said after spotting you, his eyes full of innocence and with the biggest smile on his face. 

"Your Highness," you bow, just like you were taught to. He frowned, he never liked how you treated him like a prince. He wanted to be your friend, and friends don't bow to each other. Or act like one was superior.

He quickly changed the topic, asking you to teach him some of your sword moves.

"You have a trainer already," you pointed out, "appointed by the king."

"But I don't like him," he replied, pouting like a child. You sometimes forget that he's a prince. From what you were told, a prince shouldn't act this way. Maybe he got away with it because he was the youngest, you wondered.

"I'm not a teacher," you replied, hoping the annoying boy would go away already. "But you could teach a friend!" Arthur replied happily. You take a moment to answer. "You're a prince. We can not be friends." You walk away from the river, going back to the soldier's quarters.

Arthur watched you walk away from him. He didn't understand why you disliked him so much. All he wanted was a friend.

---

You were appointed to accompany the youngest prince while he went to the local bazaar. He wouldn't let anyone else accompany him and of course, the king couldn't let him go alone.

Arthur had made it known that you would be the only one he would allow to be near him. So upon receiving direct orders from the King, you couldn't exactly say no.

---

His eyes beg you. Trying to covey the words his mouth couldn't. Was it selfish of him? To want you to stay when the kingdom was under attack? He searches your eyes. What was he trying to find?

You step closer to him. Your hand gently cups his face, bringing him closer, till your foreheads touch.

"I have to go," you whisper, your breath tickling his face. A lump forms in his throat. He doesn't want you to leave.

His stomach churns at the thoughts that cross his mind. The 'what if' scenarios running through his mind. He can't shake off this feeling he has.

"Don't." It's so quiet you barely hear it. "Please."

"My Prince." You pull him into your embrace, gently tucking his face in the curve of your neck. One of your hands around his back, the other supporting his head.

"My love," you try to console him. It hurt you to see him like that. It hurt you the most to know you were the reason for his current state. 

"At least..." he tries to say before his own sobs cut him off. "At least stay the night." 

You look at Arthur. He was clutching your vest, scared that if he let go, you would leave. He reminded you of the young boy you had met all those years ago. 

The clumsy little boy, who used to run around the palace barefoot, tripping so often that his arms and legs were scattered in scars. 

The determined little boy, who used to beg you to teach him how to fight because he didn't think he was strong enough to deserve the title of prince. The smart little boy, who taught you how to read and write, something you had never learned because a soldier had no use for such things.

The caring little boy, who stayed up all night once to look after you after you had caught a severe cold.

The sensitive little boy, who cried when he found a dead butterfly in the garden. You didn't have the heart to tell him that those things barely lived for a few weeks. The brave little boy, who fought his father, the king, because the king forbade him from spending time together with lowlifes.

You smile at the memory. Arthur had fought his own father all because he called you a lowlife. You knew your place in the system. It wasn't the first time you had heard such a thing. It's what you were so you didn't ever consider it an insult. 

But seeing Arthur defend you like that, against the king of all people, had really made you see him in a new life.

You tighten your arms around him. You didn't want to leave him here. But this was a war the kingdom couldn't afford to lose. Things had been especially tough on the frontlines. 

"Of course, my love," you reply softly, pressing a lingering kiss to the top of his head. 

---

Arthur woke up the next day to an empty bed. You were nowhere to be seen. Deep inside, he knew you had already left. You were probably about to reach the battlegrounds.

He rolled over to your side of the bed. At least that's what he had been calling it ever since you had started spending the nights in his room. It was already cold.

He tried to sleep again, to get away from the thoughts clouding his mind but to no avail.

Something caught his eye. It was sitting on top of the nightstand. He reached out grabbing the small piece of jewelry.

He recognized it. It was a simple silver chain with your birthstone hanging from it. It was the most precious thing you had. You had told him once. A gift from your late mother.

He carefully wrapped his fingers around it. He knew how much it meant to you. It was your treasure and you had left it in his care. He brought the necklace closer to him. Like he was holding a piece of you. 

He curled up in a ball, weeping quietly. The reality of the situation hit him. There was only one instance he could think of where you would leave behind your most treasured necklace.

---

The Sun had already settled for the day. The stars, shining like little gems in the blanket of darkness. It had been a long day for the two young boys. Sweaty and tired, they laid in the freshly trimmed grass. 

"You did good today." the shorter of the two turned  his head to look at his companion. You had never been the first to start a conversation with him, much less compliment him. Arthur felt himself turning red as you laid there oblivious. 

"Thanks," he meeked out. He turned to look at you once again. Your had laid comfortably on the ground, your eyes closed, the moon that had previously been hiding behind the clouds was now shining its luminance onto you. 

Heavenly. You looked heavenly. It was the only way he could describe you. He closed his eyes, taking in the smell of the grass surrounding him, and of the blooming flowers through the wind. the sound of the leaves rattling, and you.

"I want to learn life with you."

You opened your eyes slowly. It had been so quiet that you barely heard it. You turned to the boy next to you. Or rather the man next to you. He was fifteen, turning sixteen in a few weeks. 

He was no longer the clumsy little boy you had met. He fitted into his role as the prince perfectly. He knew how to fight now. He was attending meetings when his brothers couldn't. His opinions were heard in the council. Everyone had acknowledged him as a man, as a dutiful prince. 

He had even changed physically. He was taller than you remembered. Stronger, even. His muscles were starting to show. His voice was slightly deeper. His hair was longer. He had grown. Before you knew it, a smile had appeared on your face. 

---

He holds the letter close to him, the edges of the paper crumbling under his fingers. The tears staining the paper. It was written in a hurry, he could tell. Addressed to him, sitting neatly on the nightstand next to your necklace.

He wailed.

Please forgive me, my prince. I would not be there to accompany you till the end. I wish it didn't had to end like this. I wish I got learn more of life with you.

I hope we can meet again somewhere. Somewhere far away from here. Maybe in the after life. Until then, take care of yourself, my love.

Love,

Your Knight

(a/n): i've written after soooo many months so its kinda weird and all over the place. and a little rushed. I'll get better when i start writing more eventually i promise🤞🏼i still hope you guys enjoyed it

[live-laugh-lenney]

Omg! I need your take on Arthur and y/n trying for a baby and y/n finally gets pregnant!!! This would be so cute!

oh my god, this is so cute :(((

"i really think it's happened this time."

arthur rolls onto his side to look at yn, propping his had up with his elbow and ruffling the sheets beneath him whilst giving the duvet a slight pull as he tried to keep himself covered up, their bodies naked and slightly sticky with sweat. his hair clung to his forehead, his eyes were full of love and hope as they had tried, yet again, to fall pregnant with a baby.

"arthur-"

"i just have that gut feeling. we've been trying to months and i just-"

"exactly, arthur. we've been trying for months. we've been on a tight schedule, for god sake, and nothing has happened. i thought i'd, at least, have had a scare," she sighs heavily and stares at the ceiling, "i don't want to keep getting my hopes up."

"it sounds like you want to give up," he admits and she turns her head to look at him, sadness in her eyes and she chews on her bottom lip to keep it from wobbling and giving away the emotions running wild in her mind, "lovie-"

"i don't want to give up. arthur, i want kids so badly. i want them with you but," she gulps back the thick lump in her throat that seemed to ache and make swallowing difficult, "i don't know. i feel like there may be something wrong. i should be pregnant right now."

he adjusts his weight on the bed and sits himself up, back leaning against the headboard and the pillows squashing in the space behind him, and the duvet falls from his chest and covers him from his hips down and yn can see the upset beginning to pinch at his features. his eyebrows were furrowed on his browline, his eyes were sunken and his lips no longer held that hopeful smile that he once had turning his mouth into a curve.

and she felt guilty.

she knew he was excited - from the moment they'd spoken about it, having seen all their friends going through major milestones and life changes, he was totally and 100% on board with taking the next step in their lives. and she was, too. feeling comfortable and happy with the knowledge that she had someone supportive and caring and so understanding of her that anything that scared her, he would be by her side.

"babe-"

"maybe we're just not doing it at the right time," he wonders softly, "i mean, we're both busy with work right now. we're stressing about so much. it can't be helping."

"i'm just- i honestly thought it was going to be so much easier than how it's actually been for us. people fall pregnant unexpectedly all the time," she follows in his motions and sits up on the bed, except she hugs the duvet to her chest to keep herself covered, "why is it, when we plan for this because we're ready, we get nothing yet other people fall pregnant with no preparation at all?"

"are we thinking too much into it?"

"i just don't want to follow a silly schedule anymore, arthur. i want to have sex with you whenever i want to," she frowns and he feels the tickle in his stomach because, of course, he'd love that too, "i don't want to wait till a certain day of the month or ovulation week."

"then we bin the schedule."

"but-"

"we just need to be patient, don't we? we want it so badly that we just get knocked back when we see a negative test. maybe, we just need to let life take over and stop hoping every time," he suggests and she frowns, her eyes stinging, "we know that we're ready, that we want it to happen, so we get on with life with no schedules and if it happens then it happens."

he wraps an arm around her shoulders and pulls her into his side, her head resting perfectly in the curve where his neck met his shoulder, his cheek pressed against the top of her head. her arms wrap around his waist and he pulls her close, a leg being placed over his as she just wanted to be held.

"i love you, yeah? whatever happens," he whispers, "so much."

"i love you too."

--

two lines.

bold and clear as day, bright red and hard to miss, in the tiny screen of the pregnancy test.

she couldn't stop her hands from shaking and she couldn't stop the nerves that bubbled in her gut, she couldn't wipe the shock written across her face as she remembered the night that it had happened, the smile on her lips almost face-splitting.

"so? can i come in?"

arthur's voice comes muffled from the other side of the bathroom door and her hand wraps around the handle, pulling the door open in a haste manner, with the test still gripped in her free hand.

"pregnant."

"no way?"

"two lines," she turns the test to face him and he stands from the bed and walks towards her, his eyes set on the tiny oval screen that gave them the news they'd been hoping and praying for for months, "i'm pregnant, arthur. pregnant."

"from that night?"

"that exact night," she cackles loudly and his cheeks blush a bright pink, "who knew kitchen sex would be the perfect way to become pregnant?"

it was a few nights after they'd decided to scrap their schedule.

a few nights after they came to the conclusion that if it happened, it happened.

he'd put together a small and rather romantic night at home, a little surprise for her to walk through the door and see after she finished work so they could spend some time together without their minds instantly going to how and when they were going to try for a baby, because that was all that occupied their minds.

he had her favourite dinner cooking in the oven, and accompanying veggies cooking on the hob, by the time she walked through the front door. candles lit around the living space, giving off a sunset hue with the additional sunset happening outside and filtering through the window, the dining table set for a dinner for two with the best plates and cutlery lied out. a bottle of her favourite rosé wine chilling in an ice bucket with the fancy wine glasses standing tall beside it.

it was perfect.

neither of them brought up the topic of having a family.

it never even crossed their minds.

they spoke about work; she spoke about the tea and the gossip from her workplace involving the girls she worked alongside, which she knew he would struggle to understand, and he listened to every word she spoke with no interruptions. he spoke about how he and george had been asked to be guest appearances on another sidemen sunday video shoot that he was super excited to be a part of and she couldn't hold back on how proud she was feeling for him.

they spoke about going on a holiday; simply taking a break from the real world and from their busy work schedules and disappearing onto an island off of the coast of mainland greece where they'd be alone, with nothing to distract them, where they had no interruptions and no fans to post their sightings and whereabouts.

she praised him for cooking such a delicious dinner and how she'd enjoyed every bite, for putting such a beautiful night together, for taking her mind off of everything and enjoying the time as just the two of them. because she'd missed him immensely, even though they lived together, and it was nice to be back down to earth.

it was her suggestive comments on her recommendations for what she wanted for dessert - him - that got the ball rolling.

washing up the dishes from dinner together once they'd finished, as he washed all the plates and the knives and the forks whilst she dried and put everything away in the cupboards and drawers, insisting that he was delightful and delicious... he was certain it was the wine that had gone straight to her head but he wasn't turning away from her advances.

"so, you're telling me that we made a baby... on the kitchen counter?"

she feels her cheeks pink up and her face feels hot and he can't help but laugh out loud at the events that had happened to get them to where they were now.

"yes," she murmurs and shakes her head in disbelief, "all it took was a spontaneous night that wasn't planned solely to make babies."

he wraps her up in his arms and she clings to him tightly, hiding her face in the t-shirt hanging down his body, gym shorts showing off his legs and he smelt like sweat from his session with george in the local gym, but she couldn't tear herself away from him once she felt a little nauseated at the scent.

"i'm genuinely in shock," he laughs, pressing a kiss to her head and squeezing her close, "kitchen sex equates to baby. we'll have to remember that for next time."

"shut up," she grumbles and rolls her eyes, "can we just enjoy this news without remembering how it happened?"

"it was great though, wasn't it?" he questions and she pulls away from his body so she could look at him with a frown, "sorry, i'm sorry. i'll just think about it silently."

the silence in the room swallowed them before she looked back up at him, "it was brilliant sex. definitely my favourite to remember."

"just don't mention it to anyone when we have them over for dinner, yeah?" arthur smirks cheekily, "don't need your mum to know i was balls deep in you where she prepares the salads."

"arthur!" xx

[darknessisafriend]

I was wondering if you could write one with Joaquin's characters about how would they react to getting neck smooches from their S/O I hope you are well in these crazy times 💓

It's finally here! I finally got time to write! I hope you will enjoy anon, @galos-writing helped me a bit with Abbe ;)

Commodus:

Commodus is always a man on his guard. So, naturally his neck wouldn’t be an easy part to reach, even for his lover. 

The truth is also that his neck is very sensitive. Commodus is secretly very ticklish, and his sister and mother used to tickle his neck as they played together before bed. No one had been touching his neck in years. 

The first time you tried to, you joined Commodus in his study. He was working late at night as usual, but you missed him dearly lately. You wrapped your arms around him, kissing his cheek first. “My love…it is getting late...” you whispered, hoping it was obvious you needed him to warm your bed up and cool your body down. 

“I have important work to do, Y/N. I have to stay a little longer.” He replied, his eyes focused on whatever he was scribbling. As always, he would work so hard, from early in the morning to late at night, more than anyone else. Thankfully you were there to make sure he would take a break and not kill himself at the service of his People. 

You pouted at first at his answer and then grinned, leaning closer to his ear “His Highness won’t regret it...” you purred in his ear, nibbling his ear lobe, kissing his jaw and then daring a plant a kiss in his neck, right on his calmly pulsing jugular.

He froze at first, not expecting a kiss there, used to a feeling of coldness due to his armor. Your lips felt soft and warm, the opposite of a cold and hard blade he could have expected.

His skin had goosebumps and he looked down, pondering how to react, if he should let down his defense like he did so many times with you before. He made his quill lightly roll between his thumb and index as he thought. The kiss had been surprising, and yet it felt nice but too quick. “Y/N, can you do that again?” he quietly asked. 

You smiled in relief, you had been holding your breath the whole time, fearing it might have triggered him badly. Surprisingly it didn’t, probably because he had a lot more trust in you than he would think. 

This time, you would place your kiss slowly, your lips tracing kisses along his jugular where you felt his pulse had increased frantically, his skin warm and soft, with a strong scent of cinnamon myrrh, his favorite and prestigious perfume. It was intoxicating, just like the rest of his being. 

This time you would feel him relax under your kisses, his eyes almost closing entirely, his quill escaping his fingers that had become weak. His posture would remain high and yet his neck tilted to give you more space as one of your hands caressed his strong chest. “If my Emperor is willing to join our bed…I shall give him plenty of those...” 

“How dare you try to imp….” But Commodus wouldn’t manage to finish his sentence that a moan escaped his lips as you sucked his skin on a particularly sensitive spot. “Run…if I catch you before you get in bed, I will be the one ravaging your body.” He said, making you giggle, he knew you were fast, and he wouldn’t manage to catch you. What he wouldn’t do to make it seem like he had control while he entirely gave it up willingly the moment he fell for you.

Arthur/Joker:

Arthur adores your neck smooches, he is ticklish too but loves it anyway, probably due to his childish spirit.

You had first tried during a tickle battle actually, both of you laughing as you threw pillows at each other and tickled each other. You ended up straddling Arthur beneath you (or rather he loved to let you win). You blocked his arms and placed your lips in his neck to tickle him, something your mom used to do. 

Arthur would let out a squeal, a loud and boyish noise before laughing heartily, a happy laugh. He was fully relaxed, and he had discovered something new about himself. You would lift your head and smile at him, giving him a tender kiss on the lips. 

“Can I try?” he would ask eagerly, his eyes shining with fondness, his fingers delicately caressing your fingers. “Of course. But on one condition…I won’t go easy on you.” You teased him, challenging him to another play of pillow. And slowly a grin would form on his face, a confident one, that you knew from Joker “Don’t complain what comes afterwards darling.” He would purr. 

One thing you had noticed is that Joker had much more raw strength than Arthur, the madness sometimes gave inhuman strength. And you would be able to resist for long, Joker would be quick, naughty and sly; managing to win rapidly. You would gasp as he sent a last pillow hit that was a little too strong, making you lose your balance to fall off the bed.

But thankfully he would catch you in his arms, throwing his body first so he would take the hit and not you. He would laugh with a big smile, not reacting at all under the pain. “Told you I’d win.” He would say, already filling your neck in kisses, making you squirm as you started to giggle. 

His hand would instantly start to roam your body, Joker was more sexual than Arthur and winning you over a battle was even more exciting to his eyes. Even as he would make love to you afterwards, he would keep on filling your neck in kisses, making you laugh in that moment of intimacy. Arthur was still in there after all.

Bruno Weiss:

Bruno is a grumpy man and he doesn’t like to show himself vulnerable, only when drunk or very tired he does truly reveal himself.

His attitude does change after a while, once the trust builds up.

The first time you did it, was to tease him. He was annoyed by paperwork, keeping on muttering to himself while smoking his cigarette. “Is paying taxes such a headache?” you would ask in a chuckle, making him crush his cigarette in the ashtray. “I’m not working hard to have our money taken away from us.” he would mutter.

“Y/N” he would protest as you sat on his lap. The thing was that he was very weak for you and when you were so close to him, he wouldn’t be able to focus, and he would hate his inability to do so. 

You would grin, you just had to do one thing for him to snap. “You just have to pay darling, or should I do it?” you retorted and quickly smooched his neck before running off, chased by an angry Bruno who would soon calm down under your sweet caresses. 

After this episode, a kiss on the neck would become a soothing gesture for Bruno, one more reminder that he didn’t have to keep his defenses in front of you, that he could be vulnerable. It would be a reminder you would always be there, that you wouldn’t abandon him like everyone else did.

Charlie:

The first time you kissed Charlie in the neck, it didn’t go well, he had the worst reaction you could have expected from him.

You were sitting by the fire with a few companions and his brother. In a moment  of tenderness you would have sat behind him to hug him, placing a kiss on his cheek then neck. However, would quickly tense up, ignoring the soft smile of his brother at the scene. “What the fuck are you doing!?” Charlie would exclaim, instantly leaving your embrace “I’m not some kind of fag!” he would storm angrily to smoke a cigarette. Everyone would turn their eyes away from you in embarrassment except Ellie, patting your shoulder reassuringly “You know he didn’t mean it.”

And indeed, despite hurting, you knew Charlie was keeping a rough mask in front of everybody and you had brushed it off without thinking.

You would leave him alone for some time to process his gesture. He would be silent, feeling awkward after his outburst, shifting his weight from one leg to the other.

“I’m sorry Charlie. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad” you would apologize sincerely. You knew he had a rough past and he was the little brother always acting tough to protect the ones he loved, it had cost him half of his sanity. 

“I don’t trust everyone here. I don’t want them to think…” he sighed, throwing his cigarette on the ground and crushing it with the heel of his boot.

You would approach him, wanting to hug him from behind but as you reached out your hand you wouldn’t dare to touch him.

I know. You don’t have to explain yourself. I won’t do it again.” you would offer softly, doing your best to accommodate your struggling lover.

“What are they doing? Are they looking?” he would ask after a moment of silence. You would look back “No, they went to sleep. Ellie is kissing his…scarf.” you replied, an intimate gesture his brother didn’t fear to show.

“Can you do it again?” he would ask in a mutter, you would hear his voice on the edge like a great effort he would make to let down his barriers and he would not repeat himself, fearing.

Joe:

The neck would be a triggering part for Joe, always has been as a soldier. This was part he would have to protect often during the war. But you wouldn’t be aware of this specific trigger point. 

One day, as he would be reading, you wouldn’t pay attention and would come to hug him from behind, you were light footed so he tensed up at first. But when it instantly followed with a kiss on the neck, something cool applying to his skin, triggered a past trauma. 

He would gasp and under the flash push you away strongly, making you fall heavily on the ground, pretty much hitting your head at the same time. “Joe what…” you would manage to say, blinking a few times the stars in your eyes. You would find him curled up in a corner, his arms wrapped around his head and neck as an attempt to protect himself.

Your eyes would widen at the sight, understanding he had been severely triggered. In fact, you now remembered reading some articles about it, how strangling and throat slitting was attempted on some factions of soldiers by the enemy and it was surely what had triggered him.

“Joe it’s me. I’m sorry baby, I didn’t mean to scare you.” you would apologize on the verge of tears from the state he was in.

After that it would take a while for him to calm down, he would be closed into silence, feeling guilty of his own reactions to a simple kiss. But you would work things out as always, taking baby steps in trying to eliminate that trigger, his service dog helping as well, nuzzling his truffle in his neck while cuddling.

You would make sure to eliminate the effect of surprise during that gesture, coming to stand in front of him, caressing his chest and slowly tying your arms around his neck, asking for permission to kiss his neck. And it would work out well after many months of trial. You wouldn’t do it much tho cause you didn’t want to push this too fast, besides you loved kissing his lips, chest and arms much better.

With time Joe would grow to like it as well, it was much nicer to open his neck to a loving kiss rather than a cold blade. 

Max California:

- Max California loves neck kisses. He is a very physical lover so when he is with you he is rather clingly, and especially loves PDA, he is a possessive lover but not in a toxic way, he would simply be very proud of you. 

-  Very early in your relationship you would have gone onto neck kisses, at the shop as you assisted you would often lean against him hugging you from behind, placing lazy kisses from time to time as you both await clients to pick their next dirty products. Your neck was constantly filled with hickeys so the clients wouldn’t bother you. 

- However, Max himself was often subject to passion from clients and strangers, men and women desiring the dark punk boy working in a sex shop wearing a crop top. That would make you terribly annoyed and you knew an efficient way to mark your territory. Just do the same!

-  As you had gone to refill a shelf of porn magazines, you would decide to surprise him. Instead of going to insert yourself between his arms, you would hug him from behind as he chatted with a female client, filling his neck in small smooches, looking at the client in the eyes. Without surprise she would understand the message and leave promptly.

- Max would grin and turn his head to meet your eyes “Do you think she had any chance with me?” he would ask, making you blush and bite his neck in protest, making him chuckle. “But keep going, I like it.” He would add, his hand coming to caress your cheek before focusing on work again. 

-You would retain a happy squeal, muffling it against his skin before kissing it. Max wouldn’t be too sensitive on the neck so at first, he wouldn’t get aroused. He would simply be very happy of your attention, that you took the lead. He was a feminist after all so he would encourage such things in public and also loved to be under your control. 

-One day, after a weekend apart Max would even surprise you with a tattoo, red lips modeled on the lipstick you often left in his neck. He would wear a proud grin on his face. “What’d you think?” he asked, very pleased with himself and to show he was a marked territory already.

- “I think I still need to add a little bit more purple to it, you know, to make it livelier.” You grinned back, opening your arms and wrapping them around his neck as you would passionately make out.

Abbe:

As the composed and religious man of God he is, the Abbé has never experienced an intimate touch from no one. 

This has given him incredible awkwardness when he started feeling carnal desires for you besides romantic feelings, his religious trauma and brainwash made him believe he was a sinner and regret his own nature of man. Your love for him made you feel bad for his condition, so of course you tried to help him.

You already knew he would go crazy in the worst way possible if you had taken the lead without psychologically telling him, so you planned to slowly introduce him to physical affection. So you invited him for tea to ‘innocently chitchat’.

During the talk, he seemed still pretty nervous about the topic, but less than usual. It felt like a good sign for you, but you didn’t expect his next request.

The Abbé was actively avoiding your gaze as he parted his lips to speak, his cheeks turned a bright red. “Might I… dare to kiss you?” He asked in almost a whisper, making you blush and then scoff; his excessive politeness was adorable to you. You nodded, and approached, ready for a quick peck. You didn’t expect him to grab your shoulders and capture your lips for a goofy yet extremely heated kiss. 

You could hear him let out little noises already despite you weren’t touching him either. So, when the kiss was over, you smirked, licking your lips, delighted by that kiss, and leaned closer, brushing your lips against his neck. You could hear a gasp escape his lips, which lowkey turned you on. 

So you started by giving his neck a first soft kiss, noticing his chest moving up and down faster and his heartbeat louder. He swallowed down, trying to reluctantly pull back, it was obvious he was loving those kisses yet he thought it was wrong. “Y/N…”, he whimpered, letting out soft moans for every kiss you gave him. Every moan of his was one more shiver of excitement running through your spine. 

You suddenly felt your clothes being grabbed by his fists, his noises became a bit louder and his hips were starting to slightly jerk forward. Unfortunately that thick pitch black cassock was leaving no room for imagination, but you knew underneath he was fighting against a massive boner.

Suddenly, after you gently nibbled a spot on his throat, he let out a high pitched whimper, obviously choking other noises in his throat and trembling a bit, his mouth was agape. You stepped back, thinking you hurt him, but after some seconds, he was heavily painting and squeezing his legs together: he came just with your neck kisses. 

You would have lied if you said you weren’t proud of yourself. Especially after he looked at you dead in the eye and said: “There’s no turning back after this, right…?”. He seemed defeated, yet somehow relieved when you shook your head, hopeful to get further with him. Finally.

Merill

Merill is a lover of PDA and of neck kisses as well. Which means that naturally he would give them to you.

He is a protective man and possessive. In public he would especially love to stand behind you and wrap his arms around your waist to place a tender kiss on your neck.

Naturally you would return the favor. Merill wouldn't be surprised or taken aback, he would let you do and even lean into your touch.

For Merill, neck smooches would represent letting himself get vulnerable willingly for the one he loves.

It was something he was proud of. Merill was known across town for his strong character, his stubbornness, and impulsivity. And many thought that he wasn’t an easy man to handle, that despite attracting many girls with his look, when they got to know him they would run away. 

It wasn’t the truth actually, ladies loved how he knew what he wanted and his passion, his love for his family. And you were the lucky one, the only one he ever allowed neck kisses from, encouraging you to mark him with hickeys, show who he belonged to. 

You would especially enjoy tickling him with your lips during a baseball match, distracting him when he was getting too agitated by the bad talent of some. It would work wonderfully, to the point he would melt in your touch, his attention drifting away more and more from the match to focus on you. During the final match you would end up making out and more in the lockers room where no one would come to find you.

Tag list: @skaravile @lyoongx @weirdflecksbutok @charlie-sisters @stardancerluv @sgtsavoytruffle @ohcarlesmycarles @rajacero @niniitah-ah @morrisonmercurryphoenix @fly-like-a-phoenix @galos-writing @sparklygardenerlove

[somewhere-at-the-burrow]

𝐵𝒰𝑅𝑅𝒪𝒲 𝒮𝒰𝑀𝑀𝐸𝑅𝒮

⤹ 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐖𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲

(( what the summer has looked like in my recent shifts! ))

(( this is a long post I'M SORRY I RAMBLE A TON))

✯ Ginny and I always read the new editions of Seeker Weekly when they are delivered on sunday mornings. this usually consists of her running into my room and flopping onto my bed, teasing me with the magazine if I am not awake already. otherwise, we read it together at the kitchen table while keeping it away from the boys until we are done reading!

✯ in the first two weeks of summer, Bill was staying at the Burrow and telling us all about his adventures in Egypt. let's just say that every single breakfast with him ended on a super mysterious note or with Molly (mum) passing him more food and giving him a look of "motherly protection"

✯ with Arthur's (dad's) help, I have been building my own broom over the summer. I have always had the idea in mind, and with the collaboration of many different wizarding families, it is turning out really well!! I still have no idea if anyone will actually allow it in quidditch games though :')

✯ this might be very mundane, but I always help with the farm chores every morning. we have lots of chickens (and we have had pigs in the past), and it is so refreshing to use grounding techniques while listening to the radio through the open window

✯ speaking of radio... that is one thing that is always going in the Burrow. I look forward to walking downstairs in the morning and hearing the latest hits or listening to the WWN news broadcast.

✯ also, mum always has the Witching Hour (with Glenda Chittock) going in the mornings. in the wizarding world, there is kind of a love-hate with that talk show, as many younger people see it as something that only older women listen to.

✯ however, the Witching Hour was one of the first things I listened to in my first shift, so the memories are all positive and I find myself listening most mornings (despite the incessant teasing from the boys)

✯ in my first shift, I found out that the Holyhead Harpies made it to the League Cup against the Kenmare Kestrels. Ginny and I are obsessed with the Harpies' new seeker (grace belling my lovee <3) so you know I had to script that we would go to the game!!

✯ because this is the first summer where Fred, George and I can do magic outside of school, they have been tinkering away at new joke projects while I work on magically designing the labels and packaging! many late nights with that one!!

✯ my best friend Iris has visited many many times, and sometimes we invite Angelina too and we all bunker down in my room reading our silly witch magazines and looking at photos until the late hours. usually this ends with Ginny knocking on my door and she too curls up on the floor to talk <3

✯ Ginny also found this antique book of muggle victorian slang in the work shed, and she has been saying extremely ridiculous things in random conversation and it has honestly become a bit at this point. we are all on the edge of our seats wondering what that girl is going to say next, especially during meals!

✯ Hermione and Harry visited once, but Ron has such a sporadic schedule and he ended up doing the most random things and dragging them with him. I kid you not, they went and looked at the garden? for no reason??

✯ between Ron and Fred, those two would sleep past noon if we let them. mum will absolutely not have that though, so after she has called them down for breakfast multiple times, she tasks George and I with waking them up. some days we are kind and we gently shove them awake, but those are becoming very rare and I find absolute joy in being a morning menace <3

✯ when Bill was over, we had these fake broom races at dusk in the back field, but they were mostly so we could see the sunset on the horizon and that was a moment when I felt the most alive.

note:

talking about the burrow is my favorite and my mum is tired of hearing about it every time i shift back! so, i guess you all will be graced with my rants AND I HAVE A LOT OF THEM

thank you for reading if you have made it this far!

[katebishopsbow]

STARDUSTS AND GOLDEN SPECKS • OSCAR PIASTRI

pairing: oscar piastri x reader

summary: when conversations turned into arguments and all you could feel when you looked at oscar was pain and exhaustion, you learned to say goodbye and let go of your first-ever love.

tags: angst, arguments, breaking up

word count: 1.2k

(image is not mine)

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

When did the warm, fuzzy feeling that blossomed over your chest whenever you thought about Oscar had soundlessly turned bitter? When did your arguments over trivial matters become an almost daily occurrence? When did it happen when you looked into the eyes of your first love – your anchor, your safe haven, your rock – and somehow, it doesn’t feel like home anymore? 

You wondered where it all went wrong.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

The story of you and Oscar was like one out of a teenage romance novel, not exactly the cliche best friends-to-lovers trope, but the one where both the boy and the girl had a crush on each other for years yet were always too shy to say anything. The two of you would steal secret glances at each other in the school hallway and look away bashfully whenever your eyes would meet, cheeks rosy and hearts thumping as if you were deers caught in headlights. 

Oscar was always so stoic and unfazed, but somehow the mere presence of you was enough to make his stomach swarm with butterflies and his head foggy, stealing away the lovestruck boy’s ability to properly think. It was frightening, really – how much he liked you, and so one day he finally plucked up the courage to confess his feelings to you and asked you to be his girlfriend while doing his best to hide his trembling hands and frenzied heart. You leaned forward to trace the stardusts of freckles over his cheeks, admiring the golden specks swimming in his eyes as you nodded your head “yes”, and at that moment Oscar swore he was the happiest boy on Earth.

They say first love was never meant to last, but the two of you – so young and naive and so in love – were certain as ever that the old saying was simply untrue. “I’m gonna marry you someday,” Oscar said to you, gazing into your eyes with an overflowing amount of love and sincerity that you couldn’t help but bury your face into your boyfriend’s chest to hide the biggest smile of your life. “Mr. and Mrs. Piastri,” you whispered hushedly under your breath. The sound of it made your heart swell with joy, and your eyes fluttered close as you thought about what the future held for you two – experiencing the ups and downs of life together, traveling the world together, buying a house and growing old together.

You thought you two were forever, so it caught you by surprise when things were beginning to shift. It happened silently – you wouldn’t be able to notice even if you were paying close attention, and the love between you and Oscar had changed into something entirely different. Perhaps it was because you two had been together for so many years, witnessed each other grow up into the person you had become, and with that not only did you two grow older, but you also grew apart. 

What exactly was the reason behind everything, you couldn’t be sure, but all you knew was that you and Oscar were no longer the same. You could spend days without seeing each other, a normal conversation could so easily turn into a heated argument, and the distance between you two only continued to grow like ivies slithering up the walls of your closed off hearts.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

“Let’s go out for dinner at that Mexican restaurant tomorrow night. A little dinner date, me and you, just like how it used to be when we were in high school,” you suggested as you snuggled into the sides of Oscar – it was your attempt to salvage what was left of your relationship, to try and hopefully make things work. He stayed quiet for a few seconds before parting his lips to answer, “I made plans with Logan and Arthur already… sorry, love.” 

The unfamiliarity of the nickname that once made you swoon had you cringing silently, and you rolled your eyes at your boyfriend’s disappointing yet unsurprising response. “Do you even have time for me anymore, Osc?” you asked him as frustration pierced through your words, and the exasperated sigh he failed to conceal only managed to fuel the irritation simmering within you.

“What are you talking about?” “You never have time for me, Oscar.”

Oscar inhaled a deep breath, rubbing at his temples in pure frustration as if he was already exhausted from having this conversation. “You know that’s not true. Stop making everything such a big deal…” A cold laugh escaped your lips upon hearing his words, although the situation was far from funny. “You and I both know that something is wrong between us, Oscar, and yet I am the only one making an effort to try and fix things.”

You watched as your boyfriend closed his eyes, almost like he was hoping to block out everything around him, to ignore your voice and the ugly truth that fell from your lips – the same voice that he used to say was the best sound in the world. “I don’t want to argue with you anymore, love, please,” he said to you, his voice small and pleading – for what exactly, you weren’t certain. 

All you knew was at that very moment, for the very first time, you couldn’t find it in you to argue with him anymore. You couldn’t find the strength within you to try and make things work, to fight for your broken relationships, to attempt rekindling the love you two had once felt so deeply for each other. You were simply too tired, too worn out from the hardships of your love as you fought to salvage something that was destined to fail.

“Okay then. No more arguing,” you whispered softly as a sigh fell from your lips – not a dejected one, but rather one of relief. Oscar and you fell into silence, neither of you uttering a single word as you both let the gravity of the situation sink in. Nothing you two could say would make this any better or any less painful – it was bound to hurt, and maybe that was the beauty of loving so deeply. 

This was it. The end of it all.

So you leaned forward for one last time – the same way you used to when Oscar confessed his feelings to you – and you brought your hands to his face to trace along the stardusts of freckles that adored his delicate skin. Hidden behind the golden specks of his eyes was love, so much love for you, and pain, exhaustion, frustration, and the agonizing realization that you and Oscar – this inseparable duo for the past years of your lives – had come to an end.

You thought about all the things Oscar had taught you over the years of your relationship. You learned the complexities and depth of your own heart, you learned to be vulnerable with each other even though it frightened you more than anything, and you learned that you were capable of loving someone so much with everything that you had. 

As you looked at Oscar, both of your eyes glassy with tears and cloudy with the cherished memories you once shared, you realized that you were about to learn something new again, and perhaps was the most important lesson of all  – to say goodbye, to let go, and to move on.

[blackenedsnow]

Heya! Same person who requested the Ace!Reader x Arthur Morgan thing! Thank you so so much! Made me super super happy and I may or may not have cried a little bit lmao

Feel free to ignore this other bit of the ask. I don’t know if one can send a request more than once, but obviously I’m not expecting this to be written with all the other people sending in asks. They take priority. I was just wondering if you could write something about the same kind of reader, but with Kieran? Where she’s always defended and protected him, fed him well when he was tied to the tree, got him a tent and a cot and everything, and fussed over him in general, at first just because she’s not okay with that sort of treatment but develops actual feelings for him, and she rescues him from the O’Driscoll boys when he disappeared?

Again, feel free to ignore this. The important bit is that I felt more reassurance than I have in a while with the Arthur request. Thank you again! Have a lovely day/night!

soft hands

WARNING: Kidnapping, mentions of mistreatment

PAIRING: Kieran Duffy x Reader

NOTE: I’m so happy the Arthur fic meant so much to you! Seriously, feel free to send in as many requests as you want. (As long as you don't spam my inbox all at once lol) It’s never a problem, and I love creating these for you! You’re always welcome here.💙

SUMMARY: After weeks of caring for Kieran, you realize your feelings for him go deeper than simple kindness. When he goes missing, you risk everything to bring him back.

Kieran whimpered as the ropes bit into his wrists. The thick cord twisted around the bark of the tree where Dutch had ordered him tied up like some animal. He’d been with the gang for what felt like a while now, but they still looked at him like he was some kind of vermin. Except you. You always did what you could to help him, offering him scraps of food when no one was looking, defending him when Bill or Micah got too rough.

You couldn’t stand the way they treated him.

It wasn’t as though Kieran had exactly "chosen" to be with the O’Driscolls. It was a "ride with us" or die situation, and you believed him with all your heart. You didn’t believe in this kind of cruelty, and seeing him tied to that tree, looking half-starved and terrified, set your teeth on edge. So, from the moment he’d been captured, you had taken it upon yourself to keep an eye on him.

It started small—handing him extra food when you were sure no one would notice. Then, you’d convinced Dutch and Hosea to get him a tent and a cot so he wasn’t left exposed to the elements like some animal. When you finally got them to untie him, you’d gone out of your way to make sure he wasn’t harassed by the others. You didn’t know why it bothered you so much at first. Maybe it was just your natural instinct to look after people, to keep them safe.

But over time, something changed.

You started to notice the way Kieran would blush when you brought him food, or the way he’d glance up at you with those soft, grateful eyes. And it wasn’t long before you realized that your need to protect him went beyond just being kind-hearted. You had feelings for him, feelings that snuck up on you when you weren’t looking.

It was a cold morning when you realized something was wrong. Kieran hadn’t been seen since the night before, and no one seemed to care.

“Have you seen Kieran?” you asked Arthur, who was busy cleaning his rifle. He barely spared you a glance.

“Haven’t seen him since yesterday,” he said. “Why? You worried about him?”

You frowned, a knot of anxiety twisting in your chest. “You sure he’s alright?”

Arthur sighed, wiping down the barrel of his gun. “I don’t know. If he’s smart, he ain’t runnin’.”

You didn’t like that answer. Something in your gut told you that Kieran hadn’t run off. He wasn’t the type to just leave—especially not after everything. You trusted him more than anyone in the gang did, and the idea of him disappearing without a word didn’t sit right with you.

“I’m going to go look for him,” you said, already heading for your horse. Arthur called after you, but you didn’t stop.

The ride was long and cold, your mind racing with worst-case scenarios. You knew that if Kieran had been taken by the O’Driscolls, it wouldn’t be good. They had no love for traitors. Every second that passed without finding him made your heart pound harder. You pushed your horse faster, determined to bring him back safely.

After hours of searching, you finally stumbled upon an old O’Driscoll camp hidden deep in the woods. You dismounted, creeping quietly through the trees. There were three men sitting around a fire, and off to the side, tied to a post, was Kieran.

Your heart dropped at the sight of him. He was slumped over, his face bloodied, his wrists bound tight behind his back. They’d beaten him.

You had to get him out of there.

Drawing your gun, you crept closer, your boots making barely a sound on the damp earth. You watched the O’Driscolls carefully, waiting for the right moment to strike. When one of them stood and moved away from the fire, you seized the opportunity. Taking out the closest man with a quick knife to the neck, you rushed forward, catching the other off-guard before he could react.

The third man tried to pull his gun, but you were faster, a clean shot to his chest sending him crumpling to the ground.

With the camp quiet, you hurried over to Kieran, dropping to your knees beside him. “Kieran? It’s me. You’re safe now.”

He flinched at your touch, still out of it from the beating. When he finally recognized you, a sob caught in his throat. “Y-You came for me…”

“Of course I did,” you whispered, cutting through the ropes binding his wrists. “I’m not leaving you here.”

Once free, Kieran slumped against you, too weak to stand. His body trembled, and you couldn’t tell if it was from fear or exhaustion. Probably both. You wrapped an arm around him, pulling him close as you helped him to his feet. He leaned heavily on you as you led him to your horse.

“Come on, let’s get you back to the camp,” you said softly, hoisting him onto the saddle before climbing up behind him.

The ride back to camp was slow and quiet, with Kieran resting against you, his head lolling against your shoulder.

Back at camp, you made sure Kieran was properly cared for. You fussed over him like you always did, making sure he had a warm meal and all that stuff.

“I don’t deserve this,” Kieran mumbled one night as you were tending to the bruises on his face. “I don’t deserve you.”

You stopped, looking at him with soft eyes. “That’s not true, Kieran. You deserve someone who cares about you.”

He blinked up at you, his expression raw and vulnerable. “But why? After everything… why do you care so much?”

You hesitated, your heart thudding in your chest. You’d been wrestling with your feelings for weeks now, and hearing him ask that question made it all come crashing down.

“Because…” You set the cloth aside, your hand resting gently on his cheek. “Because.. I don't know. I just care about you. More than I probably should.”

His eyes widened, a faint blush creeping up his neck. “Y-You mean that?”

You nodded, your heart pounding in your ears. “I do.”

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. Then, slowly, Kieran’s hand reached up to cover yours, his fingers trembling slightly.

“Thank you, I… I care about you too.” he replied.

It wasn’t a grand confession, but it didn’t need to be. You already knew. You’d known for a while now.

[sl-newsie]

American Woman (Thomas Shelby x American OC) Ch. 42: Something More Important

Masterlist: https://www.tumblr.com/sl-newsie/739551758747090944/american-woman-thomas-shelby-x-american-oc?source=share

By the end of the afternoon everything is planned. Ada, Finn, Polly, and Michael are already here. Now we’re waiting for Lizzie and the other Shelbys and their wives. Thomas’ meeting with the duchess must have gone successfully because he came back in one piece with more money than I’d ever imagined. Now she’s gone.

In the kitchen I pour a small whiskey and let the nostalgic drink warm me. More footsteps approach and Thomas spots me sitting at the table.

“Do you drink now?” 

I roll my eyes. “In small portions. Don’t blame me. You lot are always drinking.”

He walks in and takes a seat next to me, examining the bottle with a cigarette dangling from his mouth. “Whiskey?”

“My vader runs a brewery. What do you think?”

“‘S this your father’s brand?”

I nod proudly. “Some of the best in America.”

Thomas hums and considers me with calculating eyes, hand on his chin. “How do you feel about horses?”

Another swallow. “Not much to say. I grew up in the city and never got to see many, much less ride one until I came here.” I smirk. “Not that I wouldn’t be up to the challenge.”

He hums again. “Do you prefer cars?”

Is that a trick question? Where is this coming from? “In Brooklyn everything’s close enough to walk. When my family travels we rent a car. But if you’re asking my opinion about those gleaming beauties you’ve got now, I’ll say they’re some of the best cars I’ve ever ridden in.” I stand up and place my glass in the wash basin. “You’re a man of many wonders, Thomas. Gorgeous horses and snazzy automobiles.”

A new feeling blooms in my chest just as Ada walks by. So much for a private moment.

“They’re asking for you, Tommy.”

Thomas waves her off and stands up, taking a puff on his cigarette. He takes his own sip from vader’s whiskey and looks to the floor with a look telling me he’s overthinking.

“After today, things might go back to normal,” I comment lightly and put a hand on his shoulder. “Now go out there and show them who Thomas Shelby is.”

Thomas gives a stiff nod and strides off into the hall. I start to follow but am blocked by Linda before I can exit the kitchen.

“Why are you here?” she asks, looking me up and down.

“Excuse me?”

“Why are you here? Esme, Ada, Polly, and I are kin to the Shelbys.” She tilts her chin up. “Who are you?”

It feels like someone punched me in the throat. What words can I possibly say about that? Does she not see the time I’ve dedicated to this family?

“I- I’m here as a friend. Thomas-”

“All you are is a trusting, pretty face that he can send to do the boring work he doesn’t like,” she tuts. “If I were you I’d go back to America. That’s where Arthur and I plan on going. Away from this dangerous place. Although no offense, your state may be a bit too rough for the baby.”

My jaw tightens and my gaze hardens. My hands stay clenched at my sides. Every part of me wants to boil over and scream at her for disrespecting my country.

“How dare you. You say I’m a waste of space here and then insult my home? You are in luck because I am too Christian to hit a pregnant woman. Excuse me.”

I force my way past Linda, pushing into her shoulder. Arthur, you are a good man, but why did you have to find someone so judgemental? At least Esme still accepts me. Polly, Ada, Finn… Thomas trusts me. I understand that trust does not come easily to this family but one would think that after all this time-

“Ms. Steenstra, there’s someone on the phone for you,” Mary interrupts my thoughts. “A man named Conor.”

The name makes my pulse spark. Why would he be calling?

“Conor? That’s my brother.” I walk to the phone and hesitantly pick it up. “Hello?”

“Verena?” His deep American accent rings through. “Thank God! I’ve been trying to reach you all day! Where the Hell in England are you?”

“I’m in Warwickshire.”

“Speak normal English!”

I roll my eyes. “That is normal English! I’m at Arrow House. My boss’ house. And we’re about to have a meeting. Is something wrong?”

He chuckles halfheartedly. “Funny you should say that. Vader fell down the stairs and broke his beg.”

I close my eyes and let out a drawn-out groan. “It was the stairs with the loose floorboard, wasn’t it?”

“Sure was. And now we need someone to care for him while I get to be the lucky one who runs the shop.”

His attempt at sounding gumptious does not sink in well. The previous feeling of the future’s delightful promises is disassembled, leaving me to ponder the disappointment of having to leave Birmingham once more.

“Conor, are you serious?” I ask in a small voice. 

“Catch the next boat home,” he answers in a non-negotiable tone. “Please? Moeder and Oma are going crazy and we need you to balance it out.”

I feel like I’m falling. Being dragged down with no way out. “Conor. I am so close to starting a life for myself here. Is there any other person?”

He sighs deeply. “I’m afraid not. We need you here.”

Something more important. That’s what he wants to say. I have to leave because this is more important. Not Thomas’ mental stability or my own interest to start a life. What does Conor know? They’ve never even met the Shelbys yet. 

I’m being pulled from both sides. On one hand, I can’t leave Thomas alone with what he just went through. He needs me to listen. On the other hand, I cannot just leave my family. It’s too selfish. Maybe… I can still listen from the phone. Thomas might understand. He knows I wouldn’t leave unless it was for something like this.

“Very well. I will inform Mr. Shelby that I need to take a leave of absence.”

“Thank you, Verena,” Conor sighs in relief. “This is a big help, really. You’re-”

“Tell moeder I will be home soon,” I cut him off with a dead tone. “Tot ziens.”

I stiffly hang up the phone before he can ramble on about more assurances. Yes, this is a big help to them. But I also feel the need to be of service here too. Can’t they understand?

I join the others in Thomas’ office and try to squeeze past Finn before the meeting starts. “I need to speak to Thomas-”

“Shh!” 

Finn pushes me down into the chair next to him. Whatever Thomas’ new plan is I will have to be cut out. Now everyone is gathered, even Thomas’ uncle, Curly, and Johnny Doggs. We’re all in rows facing Thomas like it's going to be a big speech. Thomas stays hunches over his desk, eyeing us until we quiet down.

“Before I begin, I want to let you know I made a mistake.” He admits it? Thomas Shelby just admitted he was wrong. “And I want to apologize to all of you. Arthur, you warned me against getting involved in Russian business. And you were right.”

Arthur merely hums in response. 

“I doubted your wife, and for that I’m sorry. Linda, I’ve added 3,000 here in the hope that you’ll forgive me.”

Linda gives us all a quick look as if to see if taking the money is appropriate. She gets up and picks up the bills Thomas has placed on the desk. “Apology accepted.”

Thomas continues. “Esme I doubted you as well.”

Esme, carrying the sleeping newborn in her arms, stares right at him. “Now John’s got innocent lives on his conscience. Ordinary working men-”

“Yeah, alright Esme. Got it,” John pushes it off.

“No, she’s right,” Thomas agrees. “And you and Arthur are gonna have to share that burden.” He tosses another stack of bills to him. “But I hope the house that you can buy with this can become a place of contemplation. Perhaps redemption.” He throws more money to the men in the back. “Charlie, for lost tools, dangerous goods and Curly’s wise words. Johnny, for board and lodgings. Lizzie.” 

The dark-eyed secretary leans forward and throws it back, sitting up straight with a tensed jaw. In a split second her eyes dart to where I’m sitting and I swear she thinks I'm hiding something.

“Michael.” Thomas holds more money out to his cousin. “For the killings. 5 for the stabbing, 5 for the shooting-”

Polly stands up. “No, Tommy.”

“What?!” Thomas barks. “Tell me, eh! This is who I am! And this is all I can give you for what you’ve given me. Your hearts and your souls.” He points a finger at her. “Yesterday I nearly lost my son. You should fucking understand that. For what, eh? For this? This?”

He gestures to the room and I can see my prediction seeping through. Wealth can grant you only so much, Thomas. I tried to tell you, Lord knows I did. Now you see just how valuable life can be without money... And how easily it can be stolen.

“And I know you all want me to say that I’ll change,” he grunts, looking over each of us. He’s not wrong. “That this fucking busines will change. But I’ve learnt something in the last few days.” He points to the window. “Those bastards, those bastards, are worse than us. Politicians, fucking judges, Lords and Ladies. They are worse than us. And they will never admit us to their palaces no matter how legitimate we become. Because of who we are. Who we fucking are, where we fucking came from.”

As much as it pains me to think it, he’s right. This isn’t America where you can build from the ground up and people will respect you. Remains of wealthy families still linger but in Brooklyn your character is judged by your labors. Your hard work. Maybe that is why I’ve been so out of place here.

“Isn’t that right, Ada?” Thomas looks at his sister. “Our Ada knows. She got smart about the revolution. And she knows you have to get what you want your own way. Lizzie, I want it known that money was for you because some nights it was you who stopped my heart from breaking. No one else.”

Crack.

My breathing ceases. Thomas’ words are drowned out by the ringing in my ears. My entire body freezes to stare unblinking at the desk. Did he just say that? In the corner of my eye Lizzie’s look of confidence says enough. But he said thank-you. He said he needs me…

“And Verena, don’t think I’ve forgotten you.”

Did he say my name? My head jerks up and those stern blue eyes meet my frigid ones.

“Verena. The American woman who stood by us as our family crumbled and built up again. Verena, who cared for and protected my son as if he were her own. Verena, who makes me look like a bloody fool for not following her wisdom. Vernea, who always listens.”

He holds up a single envelope. Not one with money.

“This here is for you. The deed to the house on Watery Lane. It’s yours now. And outside that house, you will find a car. That’s yours too.”

Oh God. He does care. He wants me to stay so badly. How can I tell him I can’t? “Thomas-”

“No exceptions,” he orders and sets the envelope on the desk.

“Thomas, please-” I beg.

“Tommy. You’ve had a bad time,” Polly interrupts. “We understand. So at an alternative time, we have all recovered.” She walks over to retrieve the money from Michael, who does not look compliant. “I would like to put before the family an alternative view of the future of the Shelby Company Limited. A more hopeful view.”

Esme’s baby starts to cry. Polly’s words hit everyone. If only I could join this hopeful future. 

“Which I, for one, would quite like to hear,” Ada inputs.

Esme stands up with her child. “As would I.”

“And I,” Lizzie agrees.

Thomas’ eyes flicker to me and I force an empty smile. “Me too.”

Linda, however, is not as enthusiastic. “Come on, Arthur. Train to the boat leaves in one hour. Then we get the boat to New York and it’ll all be in the past.”

Polly gives him a hug while Thomas fights the urge to as well. Instead he sits back in his chair and takes a puff on his cigarette. Does this mean the meeting’s over? Are the Shelbys really splitting up? Arthur can’t really be going- Can he? After everything…?

Everyone stands in silence as Arthur approaches his brother for a final goodbye. “I’ll be off then, Tom. I’ll see ya. I’ll see you, brother.”

He gives a nod and walks to join Linda at the back of the room. I’m really going to miss him. Maybe I’ll be on the same boat back to New York.

“You can go but you won’t get far, Arthur.”

Thomas’ words cause everyone to look at him. Arthur must think he’s joking. What on Earth is he talking about?

“I spoke to Moss last night. He told me that the Chief Constable of Birmingham has issued a warrant for your arrest. Murder, sedition, conspiracy to cause explosion. John, they’re coming for you as well. Same charges. Michael, the murder of Hughes. Polly-”

“Wait a minute. What the fuck are you talking-?” Arthur’s voice rises.

Bang! Bang! “Open up!” Someone shouts from outside.

Oh no. He didn’t- Thomas could never-

“…In the murder of Chief Inspector Chester Campbell,” Thomas finishes.

So Polly really did kill him. Can’t say I’m sad to hear it. But what does not calm my thoughts is the continued pounding on the front door. 

“The people we betrayed last night want to bring us down,” Thomas explains as whistles start to blow. “They control the police, the judges, the jails. But they do not control the elected government.”

“What the fuck Tommy?” John yells and everyone starts clustering in a panic.

“I was going to listen to you, my brother-!”

“They’ll hang us!”

“Listen to me!” Thomas is trying to stay calm. “I’ve made a deal, in return for turning in evidence against them. Lizzie, take the money to the cellar. You will get your money in course time. When the police get in, do not resist. Do not say anything.”

More panic spreads through the room. Polly, looking shocked and distraught, is escorted out by Michael. Esme tries to run with John but I know they won’t get far. Screams echo from the hall. Finn and I exchange anxious looks and bolt out of the room to see the door burst open and uniformed cops swarm inside. They push me away and back Arthur up against the wall with a baton to his throat. John’s already handcuffed. Esme’s trying to soothe the baby and keep Linda from attacking the coppers. Finn, who looks to be seconds from tears when he sees Polly being handcuffed, takes off sprinting out the door and around to the back of the house, towards the pasture. Lizzie and Ada are still hiding in the cellar. I’m all that’s left.

As the thrashing prisoners are led outside I feel someone walk up behind me. Thomas. We both stand in silence watching them all be dragged out to the awaiting trolley. Silence drapes over the once-lively house. I dare to look up and see Thomas’ facade threatening to crack. He never wanted this. A king, all alone in his castle. 

He finally speaks. “The only one not linked by evidence to this is you, Verena.” 

I swallow hard to fight my own tears. “That’s supposed to make me feel better? You just sent your own family to the gallows, Thomas! You must admit the law is catching up to you now. Rigged or not, do you think you can fight this system?” I take a shaky breath. “I feel like that speech was partially directed at me. No, I understand you can’t change. But you’re right. You are better than them, Thomas. All those snippity aristocrats.”

“I really meant what I said,” Thomas murmurs and I fight the temptation to keep looking at him. “You… You’ve kept me sane. You listen. You care. I don’t know how, but you do. Even if there’s nothing profitable for you.”

I shake my head slowly. “Care and compassion shouldn’t come at a cost.” Another deep breath. “There’s more news, I’m afraid. Conor, my oldest brother, just called and told me I need to return home. Vader broke his leg, and…”

Something in him breaks too. We both know where this is going. Thomas wants to break down further but instead closes his eyes to clarify my reason to leave.

“You need to help. ‘S alright, Verena. I understand.”

“Please know that I truly do wish to stay.” I gently take his hand. “You didn’t need to gift me anything for helping you, Thomas. God sent me here for a reason.”

He swallows. “You deserve it all, love. It will still be here when you come back.”

“I will be back,” I assure firmly. “I promise. But right now you need your family. Save them, Thomas. While I’m at home I can start arranging your shipments in Boston with Ada. I’m really sorry Thomas but I have my own family to look after as well.”

We turn into each other for a soft hug. Nothing too intimate, no. Something with a deeper feeling. Like two magnets not wanting to part. No longer do I feel scared to touch him. I need him to make me keep remembering what I’ll eventually return to. In a small moment I feel him lean down and press a single kiss to the top of my head.

“If I call, will you pick up?”

“Always.”

@meadows5

[missyandthemisfits]

Shinra/Arthur X Reserved!FemReader

A/N love me some Arthur -  

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Shinra Kusakabe

- While Shinra's not against the whole 'reserved' thing, obviously because he managed to get the crush in the first place, but he's definitely going to be incredibly awkward when engaging.

- At the beginning, very much gets caught up on the approach and delivery of his greetings and conversations, making them VERY unnatural.

- Never quite knows what to say or how to say it. Tries his best to gauge (Name')s reaction to curtail it to her more but girls are so complicated-

- Little does he know, every single interaction dorky or not wears on (Name)'s cold exterior and soon enough she's seeking him out of her own volition.

- On missions they happen on together, in her free time, every moment they're in the same room she starts to gravitate towards the boy, which only goes unnoticed for a few weeks or so

- Shinra starts to speak a little more naturally around her and bit by bit, he comes to grips with having full conversations with her despite only getting 3 word responses most time

- One day, he's rambling on about how cool it would be if he could suddenly be the 'Hero everyone needs' and (Name) is so touched by the notion, she let's her head fall onto his shoulder suddenly with a silent smile.

- He's sort of a stuttering mess but she's not complaining.

- Blurts out his feelings right then and there - feelings he definitely wasn't expecting her to reciprocate - she does tho.

Arthur Boyle

- Arthur certainly doesn't mind spending his days with someone who's mostly quiet - infact, he'd very much prefer to spend his time with someone like that, a fair maiden who is much more introspective than extroverted.

- A lot of time is spent daydreaming by the both of them and any passerby is left to wonder if they're in need of assistance- they're perfectly okay, just kind of existing in the same space together while also in their own little worlds. It's quite nice, not feeling obligated to keep a conversation going.

- When they do speak, it's also pretty pleasant. It's usually about the most random things; thoughts that come across either's minds, food and what they're in the mood for at the time, if the other feels like sparring - all usually short lived.

- He's the type to randomly hand out compliments, especially when he notices something is different about (Name) i.e. hair, nails, etc. If you think he's not paying attention to her, think again; he silently takes notice of details he'd otherwise not care about in regards to anyone else. 

- Compliments are always earnest and given with a smile (part of him just likes to fluster her), making him that much more attractive honestly.

- It is pointed out by several people in his company about the exorbitant amount of time spent on seeking out (Name)'s presence and just...silently basking in it.

- "It's weird, dude. You guys don't even talk half the time." - Shinra

- His immediate response is a shrug, followed by "I just really enjoy her company." And he really, really does.

- 'Really enjoy' eventually graduates to 'Love' when he starts to really get to know her - her humor, her strengths, her faults - and somehow he finds every little new thing he learns captivating 

- For the most part, has 0 problems confessing when he's ready, even with a rapidly increasing heart rate. (Name) can't help but chuckle a bit at "My fair Lady" part tho, blush and all.

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[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

Man. How did I forget that an entire subplot of Dazai's main story was just. Trying to trap him into having a single conversation with MC like a normal person I'm so akhdjgfkljshgskjd

I just love watching her, Arthur, and Isaac deadass plot with glee to get one over on Dazai it's killing me, this is some Hamlet level shit (no Charles do not stand behind the curtain to kill Dazai coming in the window!!! yamero!!!!!)

Also because I felt personally attacked (/j) when Isaac said this:

I love you Isaac but pls have mercy on creatives we only have one brain cell and we're trying s o hard oTL

Although, and I'll leave it under the cut since I'm back on my Comte-posting, but the way Comte talks about Dazai fascinates me. Also just as fair warning, I do broach a lot of the topics that come up in Dazai rt so trigger warnings for self-harm, suicide, CPTSD and PTSD, trauma, etc. I don't go too too in-depth, but they are there.

Comte: "Dazai is quite skilled at concealing what he's really feeling, even from himself, perhaps."

The way he instantly remarks on how Dazai is not only working to conceal what he feels from others, but also from himself. Tbh I think that's enormously perceptive, because at first glance most people tend to think Dazai is lazy, troublesome, flippant, or erratic (and sometimes, a combination of all of these).

I love that he sees to the core of who Dazai is and what he's feeling; fear. Dazai is afraid of hurting someone again, but I also think on some level he's made it an ontological problem; he's afraid of himself. He thinks his very existence is a negative entity, something that exists only to hurt and/or estrange other people, something wrong/different. I'd argue that's why he's so adamant about mood-making and keeping to himself. If you never express how you truly feel or live true to yourself, on some level you can't entirely reach others. Because fundamentally, being close to other people does require some level of lowered defenses and sharing. Ergo, never dwell too long or give too much of yourself away, never make a mark on anyone--good or bad.

As a side note, Theo calls him "a half-strewn dandelion puff" and I agree that's rather blunt, but on some level Theo operates on a level of utility. His entire operating precept is that life and work must serve a discrete purpose. And Dazai, in choosing to opt out of living with meaning/intent out of fear, makes this description entirely consistent with Theo's perspective of the world. Though his phrasing is harsh and perhaps one-dimensional, I do find it interesting that he comes to a similar conclusion as Comte as to what Dazai is doing.

Comte talks about it with such clarity and calm, he really does feel so parental in this moment. He's not necessarily minimizing the reality of how Dazai is experiencing the world, but he also clearly doesn't agree with Dazai's self-perception. Perhaps most striking to me is how Comte seems to understand that the only threat Dazai poses is to himself...Sometimes it feels like, in the case of conditions like mental illness/depression/etc. people are so eager to assume ill will of a person. This is only exponentially compounded if they prove to have striking intelligence and strategic capacity, the same way Dazai does. I guess I can't help but appreciate that Comte knows the difference between strong and scared, and even how the lines between the two can and often do blur (perhaps best exemplified in his relationships with Jeanne and Dazai).

(Side note: I forgot which event it was but, one time when Dazai was homesick for cherry blossom watching, Comte had the entire house filled with flowers to cheer him up [insert ugly sobbing]).

For someone so enigmatic, evasive, and distant, Comte still notices instantly that Dazai is much, much happier with MC. I suppose it makes me wonder if Comte knew all along that Dazai's real wish was to be accepted and loved as he was, but kept quiet out of respect for his privacy. I would offer too that sometimes people need to realize these things on their own for the information to have value.

But what really gets my ass is what Comte says right after:

This is my bread and butter (so is he but that's not the point of this particular TED talk). In the last few years I've done a lot of exploratory work on how trauma is mapped both internally but also visibly on the body. What I think is engaging here is that, while it could be read on a surface level as "body language gives people's true intentions away" I don't think that's quite what he's getting at. Or perhaps better phrased, it's an oversimplification. I don't think it's that body language can't communicate real and important information about people's lives. Rather, that people associate rigid and absolutist interpretations to singular mannerisms, which does a disservice to both parties. Nobody can know a person at a glance; to say that you do reduces the lived reality of the opposite party.

Comte gives simple examples and couches his words for the context of the moment, but I think that first line is incredibly telling. "But the body is remarkably truthful." It makes me think of how, in moments where Comte is overcome with anxiety as a result of traumatic recurrence, he has acute panic attacks (i.e. shortened breath, racing heart, trembling). How Leonardo's lethargy (i.e. napping on the floor everywhere like the hobo he is) belies the reality of his very real exhaustion, the emotional turmoil that comes with a fraught immortal life.

Dazai's endless struggle with dissociation and self-harm, the way he stood in the rain unmoving at the thought of MC returning home to the modern era. Whether to numb himself from the pain of that grief/loneliness, or perhaps more likely the self-immolation of subjecting himself to the re-enactment of the most harrowing moment of his life. To relive that anguish as a reminder; to abstain from making the same mistake ever again. Jeanne's endless bodily tension, struggles with basic self-care (appears to be interoception-based; reduced signalling of the need to eat/rest/etc.), and self-isolation to cope in a world where only the strong survive. Never safe, always alone, always defensive.

I think, for many people in general but especially people who have been through intense PTSD/CPTSD/etc., it can be hard to express these feelings directly. Whether they are forcibly silenced, ridiculed into self-derision/self-concealment, or are overwhelmed by emotions that are difficult to process--each manifests itself in unconventional ways. It means a lot to me when those phenomena are portrayed so sensitively in written works/media, that they're explored with real intention and narrative subtlety to communicate how hard it is for people who are wounded or simply different (or both, as often is the case).

Addendum:

Even more than that, and this is an observation at the end of Dazai's route, is Comte's open belief that life is something to be cherished. Of course, like any other person he has behaviors he won't abide and people he doesn't feel partial to, but by and large he doesn't take life lightly. Perhaps that's why he doesn't expect Dazai to resort to such measures again, in conjunction with the circumstances of his transition. From an outsider perspective, I could see how Comte might assume Dazai no longer wishes for that if he seemed to regret his initial course of action by seeking resurrection. There is also the implication that Dazai is always at war with himself, and therefore might give contradictory impressions; one moment he wants to live, the next he doesn't. This is precisely what led him to ask Charles for help to subdue his own 'cowardice.' (His terms, not mine. [bonks him]) There is a sizeable subset of s-word survivors who, after recovery, feel that their problems were actually solvable despite their despair in the moment.

Of course, that doesn't apply to everyone, but I think there's something to be said of Comte feeling such real affection for the mansion boys that he is stricken to find out what Dazai attempted. And perhaps unsurprisingly, very adamant to keep him from ever pursuing such a course of action again. He's incredibly vulnerable about his horror that he might have inflicted something on Dazai that he never wanted in bringing him back, though Dazai comfortably refutes any lack of agency in the situation.

I guess I feel very compelled by the duality inherent in Comte's glass heart, precisely because of how realistic it feels. His greatest strength is his sensitivity, but it's also his greatest weakness in tandem. His genuine care for Dazai--the unwavering belief that his life is valuable and worthy--ends up being the reason he doesn't anticipate Dazai's rather deeply entrenched self-loathing. And to be honest, I'm a bit inclined to agree; looking back on a third reading Dazai feels way too hard on himself. It feels like the young girl's death was more a catalyst for what Dazai was already feeling, than anything. Dazai wanted so badly to have a reason to despise himself (as he already disliked how different and out of place he naturally felt) and with this, his self-reproach could have a viable, rational explanation. A locus outside of his body by which to rationalize his self-hatred. Accident or not becomes irrelevant; he was involved, and thus he is guilty.

He reminds me a lot of that post that was circulating once about how cultish behavior inculcates intelligent people with more devastating pull than one might expect, because intelligent people can more easily and more insistently find ways to desperately rationalize their situation to function in that whirlpool of abuse. Dazai feels like he's in this same such Catch-22, so busy believing he deserves to be scorned (because of how well he hides his perceived abnormalities) that he takes steps to ensure and reinforce it. He wants and needs to see his reality make sense, and if it won't answer his designs he will find a way to make it so.

It fascinates me because Dazai is an incredibly complex example of someone who desires control, but instead of inflicting it with external rapacity, he targets his own internal state. I once heard a Buddhist explain: yes, it is a sign of disturbance to engage with others aggressively and without grace. However, it is also a sign of disturbance when the mind seeks to harm one's own body. Although Dazai's disturbance is not as apparent, it is there. And that's part of what makes him so excruciatingly compelling to me, in a lot of ways he is the manifestation of the Sisyphean suffering of being ill in a quiet way. In enduring and smiling and laughing because you don't want to burden others--or know you're not allowed to--all while you slowly bleed from the inside out.

[generational-atrophy]

hhhii!!! Your blog is looks really nice and your writing is also pretty good!! Can I request the main 8 with an s/o who usually wears contacts but one day they ran out and they have to wear glasses and the main 8 sees them with glasses for the first time? :3

Have a good day!!1!1!1!!1!1‼️🙏🔥

(Hetalia Main 8 x Reader) S/O Wears Glasses For the First Time!

(Gender Neutral) Headcanons ~ A/N omg thank uuuu <3 this is such a cute request!! anon wherever u r i hope ur having a good day

Trigger Warning: None, just fluff!

“Dude! Why didn’t you tell me you wore glasses too! That’s so awesome, we’re like, twins or something.”

He’s actually going to be pretty excited! If he didn’t know, it was a pleasant surprise. He thinks that glasses make everyone look cuter (including him-) so you’re that much more adorable.

Also, he might steal them and put them on over his glasses. Just to make you laugh. And then he’ll always say “wow, you’re so blind!” even if your prescription is super low. 

Cannot stop staring at you. If you hate eye contact, it’s gonna be really annoying for a bit. But he just thinks you’re sooo cute… he can’t help it!

“You look absolutely lovely today, dear. I should’ve worn mine today, then we would’ve matched!”

Arthur is not that surprised. He would’ve asked if you wore contacts earlier, so he’d know your vision was not perfect. Neither is his! But he mostly wears glasses for uh… fashion reasons.

He might make fun of you a little bit, but he knows not to push it. He doesn’t want to annoy you too terribly. But maybe sometime he should move your glasses somewhere else… just so you have to ask for his help. Wouldn’t that be cute? No? Ah, well…

He might ask you not to wear your glasses very often if yours look like America’s though. It’s just… a little offputting. He might even offer to buy you a new pair in that case.

“Mon ange… have you been hiding this from me? You’re so adorable!”

He’s rather taken aback. He wasn’t expecting you to look so different… can you wear them all the time now? They make you look so modern and put together! 

If you ever put them down, he’s trying them on immediately. And then bothering you until you tell him that he looks cute in them. Just so he can say you look even cuter-

He’s definitely teasing you about it though. Even when you’re not wearing them, he’ll talk about you like you are. You’re gonna be on the receiving end of a lot of “you’re so blind!” jokes. Sorry!

“Ah, you look so silly! Is that why you never wear those?”

He doesn’t really care that much, but he does get a little excited. In a very juvenile way. But if he didn’t know you wore contacts before, he’s just the tiniest bit surprised.

Immediately, he asks to wear them. He’ll laugh at how terrible your vision is and tease you about it for longer than you care to deal with, too. 

Specifically, he’ll call you old. Just because he’s so ancient and still doesn’t need them (yet.) This may not be funny to you, but it is hysterical to him. Just walk away and act mad, and he’ll apologize.

“What a lovely surprise! Are they new?”

As soon as he sees you, he’s giggling and blushing. He just can’t get over how different you look! It makes you look even cuter and dorky… he just loves it!

He won’t ask to try them on, but he will try and get you to ask him to. Just being like, “They look so cute on you, I wonder how they would look on someone else. Someone… um. Not short like you.” Please give in, he would be so excited.

He won’t tease you too much, but he can’t stop himself from commenting on it. Not too embarrassingly though, more just like “You should wear them more!” No comments making fun of how terrible your vision is-

“Why didn’t you tell more you wear glasses before?! Awh, you look like Germany!”

He’s very excited! He’s immediately fawning about how cute you look,  which comes off as a little insulting because of his insistence on how different you look.

Asks if he can take a photo of you. Why? He tells you he needs this moment to be immortalized. It’s not that big of a deal… but to him it is. For some reason.  

He’s also gonna have his eyes glued to you the whole time. If you compliment him, he blushes way more than normal. It’s like it put him under some spell! Hopefully, he learns to control himself soon…

He just thinks you look so fancy and adorable!

“So… do you normally wear those? Because they uh… they fit your face. Wait… I mean they fit well!”

Ludwig is going to be a little taken aback at first. You look… different with those on. Your glasses may just be a little piece of plastic, but he thinks you’re so much cuter with them on…

But he doesn’t want you to be so embarrassed about it, so he doesn’t comment on it. Other than a quick “Oh!” when he first sees you, and a stifled “You look nice today….” later.

Whenever he wears his glasses, he hates people's reactions. So he won’t subject you to any unnecessary staring. Even though he really wants to-

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear glasses before. They suit you, my dear.”

Kiku doesn’t really react very strongly. Unless your glasses are super dorky. Then he’ll giggle a little bit at your nerdy appearance. But other than that, he won’t tease you about it.

The most he’ll do is just mention the change. Maybe ask if this is a permanent change or just for now. But mostly, he doesn’t care. He has to wear glasses sometimes as well, so if anything, it’s just another thing you have in common.

[midnightswithdearkatytspb]

MidnightsWithDearKatyTSPB’s Recommendation List: April PT. 1

Welcome to April’s recommendation list. Below is the link to take you back to March pt 2 featuring Peaky Blinders, Triple Frontier, Frank Castle, Joel Miller, and the works I posted. The goal for April is to write another chapter In This Heart and rewrite The Spark. If you are interested in having your writing challenges featured here, your stories, or even your blog, please feel free to tag me in your works, message me, or use the hashtag MidnightWithDearKatyTSPB. I hope you had a great Easter if you celebrate it!

<< March ‘23 PT. 2 🍀

April ‘23 Pt. 2 🌷 >>

Masterlist

A Different Sort of Man (Moodboard) for @evita-shelby story.

Feel What You Feel (Moodboard + Blurb) >> Tommy Shelby x OFC!Estella Holland | "Perhaps this was the day she fell in love with Tommy Shelby."

Happy Birthday Mr. Pascal (Moodboard)

Invisible String (Moodboard) >> Tommy Shelby x OFC!Estella Holland | "And isn’t it just so pretty to think all along there was some invisible string tying you to me?"

It's Ok (Moodboard) >> Arthur Shelby x Beth | "It’s okay to be not okay."

Secret Garden (Moodboard) >> Arthur Shelby x Beth | “You saved me, Beth. Perhaps it’s time you allowed me to protect you from whatever demons you allow to darken your beautiful mind.”

Visitor (Moodboard + One-Shot) >> Tommy Shelby x OFC!Estella Holland | "You will never be alone, Tommy, because I’m always going to be in your heart..."

BLURBS:

I'd Kill For You by @there-goes-thefighter >> John Shelby x f!reader - Summary: John doesn't take too kindly to someone asking the girl he likes out. | This was so fluffy and cute in a Peaky Blinders sort of way.

March Madness Drabble Challenge 2023: DAY 23 by @acewritesfics >> John Shelby x Wife!Reader - Summary: John cares for his wife and son. | I love reading about John Shelby and his kids.

Obvious by @peakyscillian >> Tommy Shelby x Reader - Summary/Request: 'Giggling about how their friends haven’t found out about them yet even though they’re being so obvious.' | This was very cute. I enjoyed it.

ONE-SHOTS:

Bye Bye Blackbird by @zablife >> Tommy Shelby x F!Reader - Summary: Tommy's love interest from before the war leaves for the excitement of the city, but a chance encounter years later finds her disillusioned with all that sparkles. Can he convince her to come home? | Lee does a wonderful job writing something beautiful and sad simultaneously.

How Much I Love You by @runnning-outof-time >> Tommy Shelby x Reader - Summary: (Y/N) takes the opportunity to tell Tommy what she thinks when she finds him still in bed. | Melancholy Tommy to content and in love Tommy, beautiful.

Life is a Cabaret by @notyour-valentine >> Tommy Shelby x Reader - Summary: Tommy has an iron-clad arrangement with a performer, one of his own making. | Val does such a good job with imagery in this one as well as emotions, leaving you wanting so much more for both Tommy and the reader. Like with most of Val's writing, you don't want to miss this one. It's angsty.

Not Yet by @raincoffeeandfandoms >> Tommy Shelby x Wife!Reader - Summary: One of the most difficult days of his life awaits him. He's ready to kill Mosley, but not yet. He's ready to make him pay for his horrible thoughts and crimes, but not yet. For the moment, he is in bed with his wife. Life at your side, it seems to be easier, and he loves that feeling. | Flor's way with words in this is just breathtakingly beautiful. It's a must-read.

Philopator by @notyour-valentine >> Tommy Shelby & Daughter!Reader - Summary: When Michael presents his offer to Tommy for a restructuring of the company, he mentions his daughter - after all, she is already involved, even if Tommy doesn’t know it yet. | The emotions are so well written in this, and the tears that I shed while reading. It's a must-read.

*Saltwater Tears by @areyenotfondofmelobster >> Tommy Shelby x Reader - Summary/Request: Do you really want me? Or is this your way of getting back at my father? | So much emotion in this one. I felt the big decision weighing down on me. So good.

ONE-SHOTS:

Stormy Night by @jackfrombaskinrobbins >> Matt Murdock x teen!adopted!reader - Summary: Matt comes home banged up when his teenager should be in bed asleep. | I always thought Matt would make a good Uncle/Dad, and this further proves my idea he would.

An Unexpected Delight by @amhrosina >> Poly!Frank Castle x Reader x Matt Murdock - Summary: Frank wants a taste after Matt tells him how perfectly delicious you are. | Amazing and hot.

PEDRO PASCAL CHARACTERS:

Delicate by @slow-motionlovepotion >> Joel Miller x Reader - Summary: Sometimes when I look into your eyes, I pretend you're mine, all the damn time. | It was so scorching and very well written. I loved it.

Learned Something New by @wheresarizona >> Jack Daniels/Agent Whiskey x F!Reader - Summary: Reunion sex with Jack leads to a discovery. | This is just so very hot that I needed a tall glass of cold water to go with it.

Like Real People Do by @tightjeansjavi >> Joel Miller x f!reader - Summary: You, Joel, and Ellie arrive in Jackson for the first time. Joel sees your real smile for the first time in months, all thanks to Jackson’s horses. | This was adorable, and at times Ellie maybe steal the spotlight (in a good way.) I truly did love reading this fluffy piece.

Long Long Night by @toxic-seduction >> Joel Miller x afab!reader - Summary: “I’m not done with you.” or big dick Joel Miller fucks you hard. | 🥵 🥵 🥵 🥵 🥵 🥵

Nadie Espera un Milagro (No One Expects a Miracle) by @oonajaeadira >> Javier Peña x f!reader - Summary: Sassy, confident, American ex-pat female who finds her parents a little tedious and enjoys both her independence and her job as a high-level admin at the DEA. | Had me falling in love with Javi and how much he cared for the reader and wanted to prove to the reader's parents she could take care of herself.

Need To Know by @ayorooster >> dbf!Joel Miller x afab!reader - Summary: THE FIRST TIME Joel Miller realized how bad he had it for you was on a Saturday night. | It's hot 🥵 and I really enjoyed it.

*Salvatore Pt. 1 to Playing Dangerous by @devilmademewriteit >> Javier Peña x afab!fem!reader - Summary: A secretary with an attitude problem, a DEA agent with an insolence problem. Years ago, you'd stopped hoping for his character to improve, but he's still gunning to set you straight. It’s the worst day of your life, and Javier Peña aims to take advantage of that. | Plot leaves you wanting more and more and so excited there is a second part.

*Playing Dangerous Pt. 2 to Salvatore by @devilmademewriteit >> Javier Peña x afab!fem!reader - Summary: Sure, the fact that he’d schemed up an entire, elaborate ruse to get between your legs was upsetting. More upsetting was the fact that he refused to fess up, insisting that you needed to be protected (or at the very least—cautious) because your life was in ‘grave danger.’ Most upsetting, however? That would be the fact that through it all and above everything else, you still wanted him—badly. | It's a masterpiece. That's the best way to describe this overall.

Still Here by @sl-ut >> Joel Miller x Reader - Summary: Joel is older than y/n, but that’s never been a concern of hers until very recently. | The number of emotions I went through while reading this one was dozy. I needed tissues. So well written.

Swaddling by @babydin >> Joel Miller x Reader - Summary: Joel was not a morning person. But the morning after he had spent the night with his cock inside you and woke up fucking you? That day he was definitely a morning person. | Dirty with a dash of cuteness.

TRIPLE FRONTIER:

Erase It by @jake-g-lockley >> Santiago Garcia x reader - Summary/Prompt: they’re teasing each other when one character goes “then kiss me” and is surprised that the other character actually does it. | Can Santiago come take care of me during my periods, please? It's so fluffy and sexy. TW: Period Stuff

Husband Duties by @rayslittlekitten >> Will “Ironhead” Miller x Wife F!reader - Summary: Not being able to fall asleep, you wake your husband up to help with your situation. | Currently wishing I was Will's wife. TW: Pregnancy

WILLIAM DAFOE:

*Heroes by @areyenotfondofmelobster >> Sgt. Elias Grodin x OFC! Alexis Ryder - Summary: He is king, and she is queen. He smokes, and she is mean. Tomorrow, death may take them, but today, they are heroes. A story about love, war, courage, and the duality of man -- inspired by the David Bowie song, "Heroes". | This is a beautifully well-done story.

Just Because 🌻 (Moodboard) by @raincoffeeandfandoms >> Modern!Tommy Shelby

Keep Us Safe (Moodboard) by @running-outof-time >> Tommy Shelby x Wife!Reader | for @zablife story Keep Us Safe.

Peaky Blinders characters with a daughter who gets her first period by @scorpiussage | I read Alfie’s dialogue in his voice; it was so spot on. I can see Arthur getting all pale. Tommy would stand by and listen to help in the future. So good.

Phantom!Alfie x Christine!Reader (Moodboard) by @raincoffeeandfandoms >> Alfie Solomons x Reader | I'm a huge fan of Phantom of the Opera, so this moodboard is just perfect, especially for Alfie. I think.

@notyour-valentine - Val is a fantastic writer at conveying the tone, setting, and emotions. I often feel like I've stepped inside the piece of writing I'm reading or watched it play out on screen instead of reading it. Not only does she write for Peaky Blinders, but she also writes for House of Dragons.

@cillmequick - Alex is a talented writer who writes for Peaky Blinder's fandom with two main stories. The Lockdown Sessions is a Cillian Murphy series, and Betrayal is a Tommy Shelby story feat. Luca Changretta. Alex recently celebrated 6 months of posting her stories. So, give her stories a read and a follow.

@areyenotfondofmelobster - S brings forth emotions when writing for Adrien Characters and Peaky Blinders, to name her current favorites. I've enjoyed three of her pieces, and they have moved me to tears, and I love it when a writer can do that. Her current series White Ribbon features Luca Changretta.

[prydainroyals]

CONTENT WARNING: Adult language, emotional/verbal abuse and gaslighting, implications of substance abuse, mentions of death, and depictions of an anxiety attack.

“Jesus Christ Arthur, can you not hear yourself?! We are in public--” The King scoffed, sounding scandalized.

Arthur, embarrassed by his own outburst, huffed and turned his back to his father. It was the only ‘escape’ he could make, for the time being. He didn’t want to look at him, or hear him, or be near him-- one out of three was enough to keep him sane for the moment. He could feel his heart racing, the stresses of recent events, and all the pressure that his father was putting on him, it was getting to be too much--

“--Of course we would be worried sick! Have you even thought about how that would affect the family? The kingdom? Your sister?! You will be King one day, Arthur, and that means--”

Arthur had broken out in a cold sweat.

It had come on so suddenly, Arthur hadn’t even had time to realize, but now it was too late, and--

--and his limbs began to feel numb, rigid, even brittle--

Oh fuck. Oh no. Fuck, fuck, fuck--

--Steady. B r e a t h e.

He began to count to ten in his head. There was a high, heavy ringing in his ears, in his head, right through him, and--

He forced himself to b r e a t h e -- to ground himself -- to count the shapes in the hard marble floor under his feet, the symmetrical and predictable lines zig-zagging across the smooth, cool surface.

-- B r e a t h e,  s l o w l y -- You are going to be okay. You are going to make it. You’ve got this. B r e a t h e.

In. . .

Out.

In. . .

Out--

“Arthur! Are you even listening to me?”

The King had clearly not noticed the state his son was in, or if he had, it did not seem to matter.

Arthur let out a harsh exhale, and feeling so cold, he might’ve thought it should’ve been visible in the air before him.

“I am always listening to you,” he bitterly muttered.

“--I am telling you that you should be grateful to me for letting you run away from your association with that Ionian girl--”

The ringing in Arthur’s ears began to diminish with the slight regain of his composure, and feeling as though he’d just surfaced from dark water, he slowly turned toward his father.

“What...?”

“--The Ionian girl! Do not think it escaped my notice--”

The King was ready to go another round of verbal sparring, but something within Arthur had snapped.

“Eloise. Her name is Eloise.”

“Arthur, I am not finished--”

Arthur did not let him finish, and turned to face his father fully.

“To you, she is Her Royal Highness Princess Eloise of the Ionian Union. She is a wonderful and brilliant woman, not a girl, and she deserves our respect--which is about the only good thing this family has to offer!”

The King narrowed his eyes, clenched his fists but to his credit, seemed to rein in his own hot temper. “... Did you get her pregnant?”

“Oh my God--NO!” Arthur snapped, the word echoing throughout the nearly empty hall enough that even the King seemed surprised at the force of the outburst.

“Perhaps I am running away-- from how I ended things with her-- But I am trying to do something right!” he cried, abandoning all pretense, and even abandoning some of his anger in exchange for a more vulnerable, visceral honesty. It all seemed to come flooding out of him at once. 

“I am trying to be a better man, to do what I know I’m good at! This is my last research trip, ever, because I know I have to grow up and step into William’s shoes whether you and Gran want me to or not! Since you won’t bother being a father or a mentor, I have to figure it out on my own! And fuck, if you don’t like how I’m doing it, why don’t you take your own advice and try putting the fucking bottle down?!”

The two men stared at one another; Arthur wild-eyed, green eyes glittering with anger and pain and his cheeks ruddy from the adrenaline rushing through him at that moment; the King, shocked at having actually been told off by his son.

Arthur took a shuddering breath, let it out. He needed to get away before he absolutely fell apart. He needed to go now.

“--For the record, Dad, I just wanted a breath of fresh air before going back out to the rest of my engagements. You want me to take charge? Fine. This is me doing that.”

Arthur turned on his heel and strode out of the hall like a mad lion with the look of murder on him; all the whlle terrified that his father might call at his back.

But he did not call.

The King was silent.

- - -

Mention of @funkyllama​‘s Eloise x x x Arthur’s about ready to throw down.

I promisie the whole story won’t be like this-- I just needed to get this pivotal scene out of the way. Setup and all that, yanno.

- - -

PREV | BEGINNING | NEXT

- - -

[kaeyankat]

Hello!

Could I request something for nnt?

I have 3 characters in mind: Gowther, Estarossa and Arthur, but if it is too much, feel free to choose of these three!

I was thinking of some fluff what would make them have a little short circuit moment because crush or s/o was so cute they just stop functioning for a bit?

I hope I made some sense! Thank you!

Omg- of course- to be honest I wasn't expecting a request so I didn't check- I hope you enjoyed, dear! Even though it's more of headcanons on how itd go ~KK

Estarossa

His crush would always be cute to him, there's a reason they're his crush after all

This is his nickname when caught potentially displaying feelings toward her.

But if she was being extra cute, then first he would blush staring at her

Something he would consider extra cute is wearing his jacket after hers were destroyed or she was cold

After just a few quick seconds, Estarossa's mind would start swirling with thoughts of his crush, just staring at them with a slight tingle of pink on his cheeks and love in his eyes

If someone were to try to get his attention, they wouldn't be able to for a good while

Everyone would joke that he had told a lie to Galand and was turned into a statue

His crush however would, with Esta suddenly squeaking, looking at her with an adorable flustered and confused face

"Wh-what you need, brat-?"

If his crush were to ask for something, he'd immediately get it

However if she were to ask "Are you okay, you're staring", he'd fall off his seat or lose his balance, coughing awkwardly

"I WAS NOT, BRAT"

Arthur Pendragon

This is the man who would immediately turn red, fainting as an auto-reflex to protect his brain from frying in the moments after witnessing her cuteness

Cute can be anything to this man from a simple smile to a small habit, like a finger flutter to someone leaving

If his crush were to panic seeing him faint and were toooo I don't knowwwww place his head in their lap as they wait for him to wake, he'd freeze all over after gaining his consciousness back.

"i- what- [Name] i- hfhdibbehdqibhccddeh"

Passing out again right after, he'd probably keep doing so often under his crush understands why exactly he's fainting immediately

However if he worries her so much she cries, he'll instantly sit up to, as a bright red faced king, comfort her

Gowther

He is by far the most confused and broken for a bit

He doesn't know why he feels his mind racing, stomach churning,heart skipping beats, and skin flushing as he looks at his crush reading, or being kind to himself or someone else

It simply doesn't make sense. His only movement will be following his crush as you go about your day. He doesn't respond to questions or comments he doesn't react if he trips- he will simply stare as his wheels in his mind turn.

No matter who gets his attention, he will ask "why do I feel so odd right now?"

If it's anyone other than you, he'll become grumpy, because they'll be teasing.

If it's you and you're confused about his meaning, he will sigh softly

"I feel like my mind is focused solely on you and your actions. It was... Cute." He'll blankly state, staring at you

"Gowther, you're so silly! I have no clue what you mean, but thank you!"

As you flounce off, Gowther frowns, eyes narrowing. "Humans are so dense."

Man I'm so giddy about this- definitely more headcanons but- idk- have a wonderful day/night dearies! ~KK

[corvidcrows]

First post in years. Guess this Tumblr isn't empty anymore. Just doing some drabbles for friends.

Something different I decided to write because sfw lol but ALSO something self-indulgent because it features my own Narrator.

I was thinking really hard about @indigo-art 's Arthur and his crisis of personhood and couldn't let him go without a headpat.

So this is more like a character study of Arthur than anything else. Existentialism at its finest!

~~~~~

He's met many a Narrator in an ever increasing multiverse. The space that he resides in seemed to fold into itself even more, giving way to new occupants that fell into the void. Most of these beings were either Stanleys or Narrators, and the latter seem to come in more colorful varieties than the former. Arthur himself tends to stick company to a few Narrators he knows more intimately, but this time he was forced to interact with a new one who seemed to have moved right across the hall next to him.

He's part of a committee of Narrators now, as for some godforsaken reason he was well-liked enough to be voted into a role to greet newcomers. He had no prior experience greeting people, but most have insisted on him filling the job.

He... Doesn't hate it, but doesn't love it either. It allowed him to meet interesting new personalities that became his friends, but most Narrators were insufferable pricks that he would like nothing more than to strangle. He wonders if this one would be the former or the latter.

They say that the person you hate the most is the person who resembled you the best.

He doesn't have a chance to change his mind after knocking, because it opens immediately. This Narrator looked somewhat humanoid from the waist up, but the waist down was a different story. He possessed a ghostly yellow tail that tapered into an arrowhead point and wound itself into knots. It made Arthur dizzy just looking at it, so he averts his gaze and determinedly stares at the Narrator's human upper half.

“To whom do I owe the pleasure?” the Narrator asks politely, as if Arthur had not just stared at his tail flattening and circling around the apartment in a lazy run.

“Name's Arthur. Arthur Gold. You're going to be seeing a lot of me, considering I live around here,” he says, extending his hand. The other Narrator stares in confusion for a moment, and chuckles.

“Ah, names. Names are important here, considering the sheer number of alternates we have. I suppose this would be more of a point of contention for the Stanleys, who do possess a name, rather than us Narrators, am I correct?” the other man says as he tilts his head.

Oh God, this Narrator is one of the rambly ones. He's going to be kept at the door, is he?

“You may call me... Luke. Just Luke, mind you, I'm not very creative,” he says. “And I ask you another question: why are you here, Mr. Gold?”

“I'm here to welcome you to the Parables Flats. I just stopped by to let you know that you can approach anyone in the committee at any time. We have a few ground rules that we need to discuss–”

“You don't seem very enthusiastic to be here. Was this a paid position? Perhaps a voted one?” Luke wonders out loud, making Arthur do a double take. It's not every day that someone can see through to his facade, but Luke had sussed him out in seconds.

He falters, but carries on. “Can you let me in so I can talk to you about the rules?”

“Rules? Ah yes! Of course! Rules are important, you know. The world would fall prey to doom and destruction without the quiet machinations of rules. Did not the parable have rules that the player must follow?”

God, what a weirdo. Arthur's brow furrows as the man rambles on about rules as he walks– *floats* into the flat, leaving Arthur to trail after him. He thinks to himself to make it quick– until the man asks him a simple question.

“Tea or coffee?”

“I'm feeling coffee right about now.”

Luke's green eyes flash and the coffee machine whirrs to life in the kitchen. He flicks his wrist, and the lights flicker on. When he passes by the stereo, it crackles to life and plays blues music.

Arthur tries not to be too impressed. He has displayed much more powerful abilities himself, and he's gone toe to toe with literal gods and other beings.

Arthur sits down on the couch and begins his spiel, the one he gives to every Narrator who moves into the Flats. He starts enumerating each rule until he realizes that a certain someone is looking at him very strangely.

He trails off self-consciously, then glares at the other man for his impertinence.

“May I help you?” he finally says, sighing in annoyance.

“I– my apologies. I was taken aback by your lines of code. It's very... complex and systematic, quite a sight to see. Elegant. You're a sophisticated one, are you?”

That earned quite a stare from Arthur, who was at a loss for things to say. Where does he even begin: *How the hell did you know what I was, Who are you to be able to read my code at first glance,* and *Did you just call my programming pretty?*

“Ah. You must be terribly confused, are you? I'm a technopath, or more specifically, a technogeist. A spirit that affects electronics and technology. I think I was made this way for my Parable, made it easier to activate controls and possess electronics and such,” Luke explains as he hovers closer to Arthur, who instinctively flinched. Possess? This man was not just bordering on creepy anymore, but disturbing.

“I've never seen something– someone like you. You're a real, living person,something that evolves, not an amalgamation of static code made to replicate human response. Do you ever look at yourself and marvel at your own existence?”

Arthur's throat felt completely dry. *No,* he wanted to say, quite the opposite.

“Do you ever look at yourself and wonder how much of what you actually experience is real? How much of yourself is mirroring and how much is your own true response? Or how much of what you perceive is your own true nature?” Arthur's eyes were blank, unseeing, as he said these words. It's not new to him, these feelings. But he rarely gets to share them. Perhaps it's easier with strangers. “That's what it's like.”

Luke nods, almost as though he had empathized with Arthur, though he could not have known exactly what he was going through.

“I see. But are not humans like that as well?” Luke questions softly, and Arthur scoffs. “An existential crisis is hardly contained to inorganic beings like us.”

“No shit. But at least they don't have to deal with the perils of learning that they're artificial. That they're *created.* I'm just made to be a copy of the human condition.”

Silence. Luke sighs, goes into the kitchen to retrieve the cup of coffee, and presents it to Arthur. He then opts to coil his tail on the armchair across the other man.

“You spend so much of your time thinking about whether you live to mimic humanity that you forget to live as yourself in the first place,” Luke says gently. “You are not human, never will be. But you are Arthur Gold, someone who stands before me now, living grandly and passionately amongst Narrators, who forged a path for himself and chose life bravely. What are humans, whose genome is their biological coding yet they are so much more than what it dictates? Do not belittle yourself or what you are, Arthur. You are so much more than that, but what you are is not something to be ashamed of.”

Arthur would be loathe to admit this, but he is in near tears right now. Might just be from Luke's words, or might just be the heat of the coffee wafting into his face as he drinks.

Silence. Then Luke uncoils his tail and sits a little more casually on the armchair, letting his lower half droop languidly. It's as if nothing had happened.

“So. What were those rules you speak of?”

[groundbreakingdot872]

update on how my family’s managing after DotD

“tell them we’re devastated” HAHA

no joke christmas was ruined- felt the evil energy of the bbc merlin writers ten years ago, running through my veins, as I clicked on part 2 on prime video ;)

they soldiered through the first part like champs, only small comments on Arthur’s round table speech they wondered how Elyan’s seat had been replaced and immediately clocked Eira as a traitor bc ‘that’s something the show always does 🙄’

sisters were crying when Merlin was stuck in the crystal cave, and I was crying when he walked up the landslide of rocks after Balinor and disappeared into a halo of white light..

then the second episode started and I was

s h a k i n g

(still hearing the words ‘just really sad’ and ‘I can’t believe it’ and ‘she tricked us 😦’ in the living room as I type this up, and it’s been way more than 24 hours later…)

Gwen was so badass! 🥰 and Merlin was out there winning! And I remembered why this was so terrible the first time, the show works hard to give us this false sense of security.

I clicked on the episode knowing that within 5 minutes Arthur would be stabbed and I’d be able to retire from my long career as a loving older sister.

It was literally a ‘gasps hears around the world’ kinda moment, they all sat up and then, my second youngest sister the Mordred stan (she dressed up as him for our s2 finale costume contest) burst into tears! and I actually felt really bad.

But then the magic reveal!

It was deadly quiet when Merlin revealed his magic and there were a few long sighs when Arthur turned away to say ‘leave me’. I was pretty much inconsolable and this is my third rewatch personally. They did! make the connection between Merlin’s ‘fire dragon’ from ‘Moment of Truth’ and the one from this ep however :)

Then we had the long haul of waiting for the beginning of the real end really, and I was relieved to hear them giggle when Arthur and Merlin reminiscenced about their first market place fight, and Merlin’s ‘charm’.

then… The Real End

Of course my little brother (if you remember him from his story ‘Morgana’s Weak Quickening) had to gloat about how Merlin had ended her, just as he’d predicted, and everyone was shushing and glaring at him because it wasn’t the time lmao

I was already crying for real by the time Merlin had Arthur in his arms and they were exchanging their last words, and I was surprised to find later that they did! hear Arthur say ‘just hold me… please’ because I hadn’t heard it on my first watch.

There were no gasps or shouts when Arthur died, just silence…

No one jumped when the truck came on scene as a jumpscare (I was kind of mad at myself for getting startled even though I knew!), and then Merlin crossed our tv screen for the last time and I let the end credits play in full.

They shushed me after I attempted to speak in the two minutes after the credits ended, and it was so quiet for the next ten minutes I thought I broke them…

Their reactions:

Sister 1: ‘Wh-hat..?’

Sister 2: ‘HE DIDN’T DESERVE TO DIE’ (Mordred😵‍💫)

Sister 3: ‘But Gaius didn’t die?? I didn’t put ‘Arthur dies’ on my theory list…’

Brother: ‘I TOLD YOU SO. But… now I’m a little sad :(‘

Afterwards, I promised I’d let them all loose to look up any ‘spoilers’ for the show they wanted. (We have an unofficial rule that whenever we’re watching anything for the time, we can’t look up anything related for fear of spoilers. And I’m a very strict drill sergeant about this 🫡)

But they weren’t very interested…

Our Christmas morning was noticeably sadder. And I wondered again how families in 2012 had coped when their kids had struggled through the unfairness of the finale and still had to open presents the next morning… a mystery really…

They spent the whole. day. watching edits and playing sad music in the living room (to which my parents were very confused) and coming up to me to either rant or fight about the finale haha

Now my sister (the piano playing one) is learning how to play ‘Solas’ by Jamie Duffy on the piano bc she says it reminds her of Diamond of the day and she’s been very determined! All break, she’s been getting up to play ‘Solas’ and ‘Bond of Sacrifice’ and ‘The Love Theme’ and I’m proud of her, for getting this far and only a little concerned

- I think the kids are gonna be alright? lmao

They’ve made plans for fanart and fanfics and alternative endings and I think I’ve fully recruited them into the immoral fandom (if not happily) although I’m sure they’ll recover soon enough to join us in bittersweet reminiscence next year :)

oh! forgot to add one last thing

after rewatching ‘A Dragon’s Call’ last night my brother had one thing to say. “Arthur says ‘there’s something about you Merlin’ …but that something was that he would die in Merlin’s arms…” LMAO I almost died on the spot but I’m glad to see they’ve inherited the fandom’s morbid (or Mordred ;) sense of humor

[divinekangaroo]

S1 teeters on overly dense but relatively entertaining, and despite the density of action/fact also feels quite shallow? Potentially the standardised plot/romantic expectation?

S2 by contrast feels like it doesn’t know what it is, but is way more entertaining.

Sabini (Noah Taylor) is utterly not my cup of tea and his Aussie-Italian accent should be cut from his mouth brutally because it’s awful; but S2 also sets up sooooo many good arcs for later on, and also contains a lot of truly hilarious moments (the glass of gin lolllll; a racehorse is a good investment lolllll, almost everything Tommy says to Campbell including calling him up about Grace’s booty call my God). I also wonder about Alfie and this fannish perception of his perceptiveness; from what I can remember of later series, and now this in S2, Alfie is nearly almost always losing total control of his business, and it’s Tommy that manages to somehow manoeuvre this self-destructive wildcard of a gangster into positions where they can mutually profit.

I feel, better than S1, S2 also shows the boundaries that Tommy consciously crosses and disrespects to get what he wants. The final ep pre-execution scene and his screaming at the sky was so honest, and even though he repeats these themes in later series as his motivation, in S2 I really believe it. He is fucking angry. S1 often felt like it was trying to sell him as a mostly good, petty criminal style man making the most of an opportunity gone complex and wrong; S2 clearly paints him as consciously choosing to abuse, albeit not entirely without sympathy/empathy, just not enough to change his path. And that scene in London where the brothers smash up a club, just the three of them, then go out after on the street absolutely high and bonded on the violence, uh the best. Let’s not forget that side of them, too.

I adore the thematic structure of that S2 final episode where Tommy fails all three of his women (four if you count Polly and that he had to let her sort it out herself).

I adore the emotional swings and roundabouts he has with Arthur’s suicide attempts, which also feels very, very real.

I felt that the sex scenes with May seem to have the camera focus on her orgasm/s, when pretty much every other sex scene in the series, the camera’s very focused on Tommy, and what that means in framing their brief and odd relationship.

I like Michael’s honest hunger for the life and the power.

I also find interesting that end of S1 had Danny (Flashback-Partner #1) die, and the start of S2 had Freddie (Flashback-Partner #2) die, and that all of S2 then has Tommy leveraging the good things war gave him — connections, colleagues, reputation, weaponry skills and tactical skills. He also says to Arthur that comment about ‘closing the door on the war’, which yes, starts to roar open again for Tommy in later series, but right now in S2 the war is almost put to bed for Tommy; part of that being S1 Grace let him see he could sleep/live without it for a bit, but I also think it has something to do with Freddie and Danny now both being deceased. The constant reminder of Danny’s volatility and Tommy’s sense of responsibility to him; the constant moral and ethical battle he had with Freddie about their mutual moral trauma, and Freddie’s constant quasi-suicidal language around Tommy (but putting the onus back on Tommy to execute him) suddenly gone.

In S1, what I carried away more of was character and symbolism rather than plot or theme. Polly hits Tommy around the head a lot, including once nearly with a poker; he allows it. In S2, he’s not allowing it any more. Tommy’s nearly monk-like at the start and there’s lots of symbolic monk references (eg, Monaghan means monk, red dust in Buddhism); in the whole of Episode 1 he doesn’t manage to get a single drink in; yet he’s human and vulnerable and drunk by S6. His white horse (his opportunity for balance against the black horse) and having to kill it himself because he did something not moral to win the horse, sacrificing his potential for balancing light and dark. The whole Monaghan Boy scam and how it’s structured to represent exactly how Tommy plays himself in scams (Tommy takes a hit/pays out so more people buy in; Tommy takes a bigger hit/pays out more so even more people buy in; then turn the tables and cash in when everyone’s gone all in).

Also I quantified the S1 guns in current day pounds:

Tommy’s original scam of four stolen motorbikes - about 50-60k in current day pounds

The value of the guns he finds - about 2.1 million current day pounds

Can totally picture him sitting in the yard staring at his unexpected loot just sweating bricks trying to work out how to turn it into actual money.