#let it be known that he thinks he could beat the shit out of arthur. canon. confirmed. you heard it here first folks.

[leoleolovesdc]

Stephanie (at least throught the 90s-00s) had a very discernible violent streak and morals that don’t really line up with tim and the other bats around her. This is kinda lost on modern comics, either because of how much she’s being sidelined or as an attempt to soften her character and make her more likeable, but i genuinely think it was a interesting part to her characer that we should bring back.

Steph is sort of angry and reckless, she became spoiler without any training because she needed to get her father out of her and her mother’s life permanently, and she didn’t care for the implications of what she had to do to get there.

In her debut, you can see how desperate and impatient she is, she was tired of all the harm arthur caused to her family and of the helplessness of never being able to do something about it. It’s just a lot of bottled up anger you can tell she’s been struggling with for years, so when she finally finds a way to channel it onto something good (you can argue on how much good beating up criminals would really do, but this is from steph’s pov) it immediately leads up to her being ready to murder her father on the first opportunity she gets.

And even after bruce convinces stephanie to Not Kill Him, she still expresses multiple times how she doesn’t care for men like her father and saving them is a waste of her time. She is usually pretty willing to let “bad” people die because, as she sees it, their lives aren’t more important then the ones they ruined.

I wouldn’t say steph has very “strong” opinions on murder like jason, for example, does, but she definetly has a detachment to bruce, cass and tim’s morals that end up pushing her into a place of distrust with all of them at some point or another. She is willing to adapt to what her teammates (on the occasions where she did get to feel like a part of a team) expect of her in a mission because she values their opinion of her and wants to receive proper support and training, but it doesn’t make her dislike the kind of people who’s lives she is told to care about any less.

In the short time steph had as robin that trend of loose morals in comparison to the bats really continues, like in that one story where a guy she hit recklessly doesn’t die by pure luck and when bruce is scolding her about it she just goes “he was a serial killer, so really, why should i even care?”, or when she has that talk with batgirl after having to be stopped from beating the shit out of the penguin and ponders a bit about “when does it end? Am i really that wrong for wishing we could just take guys like this out of our lives?”.

It’s a very noticeable highlight on this aspect of stephanie right near the end, and it builds up to when she is fighting fo her life against black mask and finally manages to get the upperhand. It’s not the first time she has someone’s life on her hands but it is the first time she hesitates, maybe because the stakes are higher now, but mainly it’s just because of how guilty she feels for the gang war, for fucking it up with batman and for orpheus’ death. When she lets black mask live it’s not because she thinks it’s the right thing or because she doesn’t want to blow his brains out, it’s out of respect for bruce, because she feels like she already ruined everything, she should have known better and she owes him something, so she does what batman would do. And then that gets her killed.

So, let’s be real, why should i think that after all of this, after her father ruined her mother’s life, after she watched hundreds of children get killed and traumatized by monsters like the penguin, after the one time she tries to follow the damn code it kills her, should she have any notion that murdering is wrong if when she’s looking back on it, killing a bitch would have solved all of her problems from day one?

Being a Stephanie Brown fan is so annoying sometimes because you read about this child consistently trying to commit murder since her literal debut just for some random writer and those “batboys” mfs go around saying that she thinks murder is wrong

[paul-simon-juggling]

Today I bring you a 1980 Paul interview that made me lose my mind like nothing else : )

[verdemoun]

Hiii I wanted to ask what you think happens to Micah in the timewarp au cause modern Micah is such an enigma and it's so funny to me. Do you think he's coping well with modern times? Or does he just respawn and immediately tries robbing a mc Donald's or smth. Could def see him doing Florida man throwing an alligator through a Wendy's window type shit or just being the Wendy's employee getting the alligator thrown at him.

Also speaking of Florida man do you have an idea of what state they live in currently in modern au? (I love hearing peoples takes on where in America they think rdr takes place, especially when they're talking about where they'd be in a modern au)

i am so conflicted because like. gang with memories and knowledge of what happens in the future.

arthur wants to kill micah. yes he's been thriving and has a happy life with hosea and bessie and the boys and being a part of isaac's modern life but imagine the guilt he would feel knowing he was dying anyway but if he'd killed micah in 1899 it would've literally saved lives and it might have meant the bureau never went after john in 1911. the absolute arthur 'blames himself for everything that ever happened' morgan would consider himself personally responsible for every life micah took/destroyed post 1899. and arthur has 8 years to plan. 8 years.

but i did let dutch live so why not micah. gotta give rat bastard man a of love

micah respawned in a denny's parking lot to the sight of arthur morgan with a baseball bat. no context. no understanding what's happening. it's late evening. there's street lights and neon signs and who fucking cares they immediately pick up where they left off in 1899 which is beating the living shit out of one another.

cut to them both bloody and bruised in holding cells at the local jail still hurling insults at each other while hosea is just standing there wondering what the actual hell he is meant to do.

said incident immediately landed micah on a list of people not allowed to be sold guns and it is like neutering a feral dog. the first time micah cries in his life is at a walmart being told he isn't able to buy a gun. even if the gang want nothing to do with him like they are getting a phone call sorry to interrupt your evening sir but there's an adult man throwing a tantrum on the floor

the gang are forced to admit it isn't morally correct to a) let micah loose unsupervised in modern era or b) leave him to fend for himself and die. micah ends up living in a trailer park. he embraces redneck culture. he eats so much fast food the servers will call for a welfare check if they haven't seen him in more than three days. he gets a job at a paintball center because damnit if he can't have a gun he will have gun-adjacent. he is the conservative dad-bod southern hick hero of teenage boys everywhere

what's really funny is isaac morgan's best friend (other than jack, obviously) is malachi bell who is a direct descendant of amos bell. because he has known isaac since elementary school: and young isaac did not understand his experiences of being murdered and reawakening in modern era were not universal: kai is fully aware of how the timewarp works ie sometimes he goes with isaac to visit grandpop hosea and there will be a very confused freshly warped outlaw sitting on the couch. the fucking phone call of 'hey remember how my family was super weird around you at the start because you look scarily like your grand uncle who kind of killed my dad and was murdered by my uncle GUESS WHO JUST TURNED UP'

micah is the best terrible uncle a kid could ask for and is honestly super attached to kai even though kai is his polar opposite in every way out of spite. kai goes to micah's trailer for dinner. says he's vegetarian. goes again and micah went through the effort of getting tofu. says he's allergic to soy. inherited all the bell snark and none of the tendency towards evil

micah and arthur in a fistfight at a barbeque while kai and isaac are both just standing there 'i'm sorry about my family'

an underappreciated micah fact is how much he cared about baylock. he would get the exact same level of giddy as the rest of the gang being around horses in modern era. while living in a trailer is not ideal for having a horse he does have a massive black 'looks like he could kill you but is actually a giant cuddle bear' bully-breed dog because as much as he was afraid of dogs (fight me) he is actually more afraid of being alone. his dog eats at the table with him. micah eats mcdonalds while his dog gets lovingly pan-seared steak.

his dog is a kill-shelter rescue named baymax and micah has no idea about disney movies and doesn't understand why people giggle at the name.

to the second point i am not american and have no idea wheeze but i think texas?? texas is where most people seem to think new austin is based on?? in rdr terms they're probably on the northern side of modern day blackwater like there's the bay to the east, mountains to the north and desert to the west. pls if there are any americans what fast food place would micah bell III dedicate his life to and what state should they be in

[sundaynightlive]

A Comprehensive Guide on How Not to Tell Your Friends You're in Love [This Message was Approved by Sir Lancelot of Camelot] (Merthur)

[Read This for Better Context! But It's Not Required, or Anything]

4+1, silly knights, 3.4k, Arthur and Merlin being generally insufferable, unintentional secret realtionship trope, etc.

(TW: mention of battle, and Gwaine drinks piss? But it's comical, not like weird? I guess it's a tiny bit weird. You'll get it when you get to it.)

[1] 

“Lance just let the man sleep,” Gwaine insists, “Perhaps the festival is still heavy on him.”

“You just want to get out of training,” Elyan accuses, which Lance is sure is entirely correct. Gwaine groans, dropping his arms at his sides defeatedly.

“Fine, whatever, go bother him and don’t come crying to me when he sticks his boot in your arse.”

A few of them chuckle, but Leon shoos Lancelot away, which is enough confirmation for him that going to check on Arthur is probably best. He rids himself of his sword and his armor, as he is technically off-duty and would not prefer to go clanking around the castle this early in the morning, and heads for Arthur’s bedchambers.

This is the first mistake.

When he finds himself at Arthur’s door, he presses his ear to the wood and hears nothing. So he knocks.

And knocks again.

And knocks a third time.

Still nothing. He thinks perhaps Arthur is not even there, but then again, the man has been known to sleep like an absolute boulder, so he should check, shouldn’t he?

This is his second mistake, and by far the worst.

It is upon opening Arthur’s door and peeking his head inside that he is greeted with the sight of two very naked men, one of which is thankfully obscured from him, and the other of which, well…

Lancelot retreats so quickly he actually find himself sprinting down the hall, lest the prince had woken up and seen him, or stuck his head out his door in confusion, or even smelled that someone had been there. He only stops when he’s so far away (and particularly lost) that he no longer knows what direction to go.

Lance had heard the rumors, had been present in the room when Arthur had warned Lord Edmond of he and Merlin’s… relationship, but he and the rest of the knights had chalked it up to a tactic to get Edmond to listen, not a truth. But there, just then, he saw them lying together. Truly lying together as if they did not regularly throw horse shit at each other’s faces and fight like back-alley boxers. Lancelot has watched Arthur dump soup over Merlin’s head, and Merlin give Arthur wedgies with a wave of his hand, and Arthur spit in Merlin’s wine, and Merlin toss said wine in Arthur’s lap—

Alright, perhaps this should not come at so much of a shock. They are generally inseparable, and fiercely loyal to one another, and never far from each other, even when Merlin is technically dismissed.

But god, paramour?

Does that technically make Merlin his superior?

Lancelot starts back the way he came, seeing that as the only way out of this ridiculous maze, and on the way, he bumps into Gwen.

“There you are!” she exclaims delightfully, offering him a wide and shining smile, “I’ve come to tell you there will be no training today. You weren’t with the other knights?” 

Lancelot swallows and nods.

“I was, ah, looking for something.” 

“Understood,” she says, and continues on her way. She gets past him quite aways before he turns around, unable to push down the curiosity building up inside him.

“Gwen?” 

She stops, and turns.

“Yes?”

“Why? Was it canceled, I mean.”

She smiles.

“I believe you have Merlin to thank for that.”

[2]

It takes a lot, and by a lot, he means a lot, to shock Gwaine. It’s just not a task that’s easily done, and because of this, the knights have a bet going who can traumatize the poor guy most by the end of the week.

Now, Lancelot joined this bet heavily under the influence of alcohol, and regrets it, because he’s sure to lose. There’s nothing he could do that Percival could not beat, or Leon, for that matter. It embarrasses Lance just to speak of his own biological function, let alone trick Gwaine into drinking piss or kissing him full on the mouth—with tongue—as Elyan had done. 

How Gwaine hadn’t flinched at the piss thing, instead lamenting—

Perce, you need to drink more water, is absolutely beyond Lance’s comprehension.

What a stupid bet. What a stupid bet. And worse, Gwaine is in on the whole thing (he had to be just for safety’s sake, if they were going to constantly affront him as they were doing) and he even knows Lance is screwed, teasing him constantly about not having made a single attempt, about “owning his loss.”

He was the laughing stock of the round table.

But he had one idea. And it was terrible, absolutely wretched, invasive, and probably treason.

But he is fed up with the teasing.

His first idea was to lock Gwaine in Arthur’s very wardrobe, which would ensure Gwaine would be present to something dastardly, but then he felt guilty at just the thought of invading his friends’ privacy in such a way.

So he settled for the stables.

Unbeknownst to anyone, except Lancelot, who had been extremely unlucky in happening upon Merlin and Arthur’s more intimate moments not once, but several times, the couple tended to retreat to the stables at random (but increasingly pattern-like) times of day to talk, or snog, or whatever—these times just happened to coincide with the free-time Lancelot had to brush and water and feed his horse.

He had considered moving his schedule around to avoid this, but the days came and went, and Merlin and Arthur knew he was there, as he was clearly visible when they wandered in and closed themselves in an empty stall, so he figured he wasn’t doing much damage and they were unbothered by his presence.

They would often do little more than flirt and bicker and tease, anyway, and there must not be any real concern for keeping their relationship a secret. Actually, Lance was starting to suspect they thought the other knights already knew, even though this was not the case.

That is the nail in the coffin—by inviting Gwaine to the stables with him, he’s only invading privacy Arthur and Merlin don’t even know they have, which, therefore, is not technically privacy. 

Or maybe Lancelot is just really good at convincing himself he’s the good guy in any given situation, but that’s neither here nor there.

“I don’t understand why I’m here,” Gwaine says, gently petting the horse’s nose, “Aww, are you lonely, Lancelot?” 

Lance rolls his eyes, carefully brushing her mane, trying not to irritate her too badly at all the tangles.

“You’ll see,” he says.

“Is brushing this horse your lame attempt at winning the bet?” Gwaine muses, “Or maybe something around here…” As he begins to look around, grinning, Lancelot begins to hear footsteps and voices, vibrant voices, heading this way. He grabs Gwaine by the wrist and all but throws him to the floor, at which the knight just looks up at him, shocked.

“You are going to sit there and be quiet,” Lance snaps, speaking quickly, lest he still be talking when Arthur and Merlin arrive, “This is my only chance at winning this bet because I am not capable of pissing in your wine or shaving off your eyebrows in the middle of the night!” 

Gwain reaches up to feel his eyebrows, which are still there—Lance just wanted to freak him out.

“I have been going crazy for two weeks because I am too good of a man to go around spilling other people’s beans, even when those people don’t know there are beans to be spilled—!”

“Mate, are you alright?”

“Shut up!” Lancelot hisses, “If you say a word of this to anyone, I really will come into your bedroom at night and your eyebrows will be gone before you’ve wiped the sleep from your eyes! Do you understand?!” Gwaine nods, wide eyed.

“You know, you’re kind of sexy when you’re angry—”

“You know, we could just steal away to your bedchambers instead of coming here every day,” Merlin muses suddenly, breaking their conversation and effectively causing Gwaine’s jaw to unhinge.

“When I have things to do, Merlin, I tend to avoid being in rooms that include both you and flat surfaces,” Arthur replies cheekily, and if it were possible, Gwaine’s mouth opens even wider. Lancelot has to look away from him because he’s blushing—of course today would be a day where they were being more obnoxious than usual, though, he and Gwaine are situated behind a wall, so it’s likely neither are aware of anyone’s presence, yet.

“Arthur,” Merlin chides.

“Well when you frequently conduct yourself as a common whore—”

“Arthur! Lance is probably here somewhere!”

“I don’t see him.”

“That doesn’t mean he’s not here, idiot.”

“But if he’s not here,” Arthur teases, “The floor is a flat surface—” Lance walks out from behind the wall abruptly, glaring half-heartedly at the lovers, Merlin who is leaned back against the door to the stall they usually steal, arms crossed over his chest, and Arthur who is caging him in with one arm, looking smitten.

As revolting as it is having to hear any of this is, Lance is quite chuffed that his friends are happy and in love. It doesn’t really bother him, or he would’ve made more effort to switch up his schedule.

“If you’re going to be disgusting, do it in the stall,” Lance grumbles at them, and Arthur grins widely.

“Ah, so he speaks!” Arthur teases, in reference to the many days they have come here and Lance has paid them no mind. Lance glances at Gwaine, just because he’s curious, and finds his face buried in his hands, a hint of blush peeking through.

Oh, he’s won. He’s won.

“I don’t know that you should be calling your paramour such a thing as a common whore. Especially when your paramour is my good friend Merlin,” Lance warns, unable to keep the warm smile from his face when Merlin pokes Arthur in the ribs playfully, beaming—and though it’s supposedly at the comment, Lance knows that it’s at Arthur.

They are happy, aren’t they?

“You wouldn’t be so certain if you had seen him this morning—” 

“Arthur!”

“If I recall correctly,” Lance retaliates, “You’re the one who showed up to training this morning with a handkerchief ‘round your neck, which I suspect was hiding those nasty hickeys on your throat. Fairly certain I can deduce which of you acts as a common whore.”

“Ah, piss off,” Arthur says, grinning widely, completely unphased at the back-talk. Weeks ago, Lance would not have dared argue with the prince, but having grown to know of Arthur and Merlin’s dynamic, it’s safe to say back talk and true friendship is what the man prefers. The tough-love farce is just a face Arthur puts on—a convincing one, but a farce nonetheless.

“I think I quite like Lancelot’s points,” Merlin says, and Arthur knocks their foreheads together, bumping noses, which is when Lance elects to turn away and back to his horse (and Gwaine, who is dramatically lying on the floor in the fetal position).

“See you this afternoon, then, for bit more training?” Arthur calls towards him, presumably before they disappear into the closed stall to kiss some more. Lance looks up, grinning.

“Yes, of course, your highness.”

And with that, the entire ordeal is over, unless he’d prefer to drag Gwaine over and forcibly press his ear to the stall door, but that seems unnecessary.

“Are you alright?” he asks, as quietly as he can manage. “You win,” Gwaine says weekly, face buried in hay, “You. Win.”

—

“Lancelot won.”

“What?! How?! I pissed in your wine!”

“Percival, can you stop bringing up how you pissed in Gwaine’s wine? I’m starting to think you’re a pervert.”

“No, I’m a winner.”

“What could Lance have possibly done to move you?”

“I promised I wouldn’t tell, and if I’m honest, I do not want to.”

“Well now you have to tell us.”

“You’ll find out. Eventually.”

“That’s rather ominous.”

“Lancelot has certainly cheated. I pissed in your wine!”

“Percival! Enough!”

[3]

“Why’s Merlin here?” Leon asks, and Lance flinches, hard. He knew it would come to pass that all the knights would eventually find out Merlin outranked them in title, but he hadn’t counted on being present every time.

Yet here he is, a meeting at the round table with him, Gwaine, and Leon in attendance, Elyan and Percival are currently working patrol, to be filled in later, as this was a matter brought up without warning, and no time to free them of their duties before deciding what to do.

Lance watches, squirming awkwardly as Uther’s brow furrows, and he looks from Leon, to Arthur, and then—

“Because he outranks you, Sir Leon,”  Uther says, as if that were obvious, “And I do not trust my son—” Uther gives Arthur a pointed look, “—to not tell him of these matters, even if I instructed him so. And he will accompany you on your journey, anyway, as he always has.” 

Leon blinks, dumbly. A deep silence fills the room, and Lance knows his own discomfort is written all over his face. Merlin looks to be feeling a similar level of awkwardness, and Arthur’s got this stupid little grin, like he’s finding the situation quite funny.

“Merlin outranks a Knight of the Round Table?” Leon presses, clearly perplexed.

Lance hangs his head, and Gwaine outwardly groans. Arthur’s small smile presses into a full one.

Uther pauses a moment, and then looks to his son.

“Have you not told them?”

“We know,” Lance speaks up, to maybe soften the blow a bit. 

“You know what?” Leon asks.

“Merlin is Arthur’s paramour. Legally he outranks us because he is basically royalty-adjacent,” Gwaine explains.

“Not basically, he is royalty adjacent.” 

Leon looks between them and Arthur, who is still clearly amused, and Merlin, who looks to be in some degree of physical pain.

“But… I thought when you—at the party—”

“Leon,” Lance says, carefully, as to not rupture any brain cells, “I know this is a lot, but I believe there are several villages on fire that require a little more of our attention than Merlin and Arthur’s courtship.”

“They cannot be married!” Leon exclaims.

“You know what I mean!” Leon sinks back in his chair, visibly unable to process this information. Because Lance is so well-acquainted, it’s growing harder and harder for him to understand this sort of reaction. Sure, he was surprised as well, it’s not totally unbelievable. They spend all their time together, they’re quite affectionate if you know how to look for it—

“Now, if this foolishness is finished,” Uther says, and Lancelot jolts at the realization this entire sordid conversation happened in front of the king, “Here is what must be done.”

[4]

It’s a three-day ride to the area where the villages are being pillaged, and while they travel as long as they can, they end up making camp some time in the middle of the night, sitting comfortably around a fire and making pleasant conversation to ease the nerves of the trouble ahead.

This is good—more than good, as Lancelot quite enjoys these fireside chats—until Percival decides to ruin it, and ruin it completely.

“Which of us do you suppose is the best in bed?” Gwaine asks, a one-off question meant to strike up an affectionate argument, which catches the attention of all of them. Lancelot is laughing softly, and moving to answer—

As much as it pains me to say it, I’d have to go with you, you shameless whore.

—but he doesn’t get the chance.

“Merlin.”

Gwaine’s jaw drops next to him as his own stomach drops into the soles of his boots. Leon’s look of abject-horror is downright comical, but Lancelot is too disturbed to actually laugh at it. 

“Do you have a death wish?!” Leon hisses.

“Why do you say that, Perce?” Arthur asks, and Lancelot risks a glance this way. Where he had been amused at Leon's cluelessness, he is clearly not amused by this. His jaw is set and his gaze is piercing. Lancelot then swivels his head to Merlin, who has the back of a hand pushed up against his mouth, presumably to keep him from devolving into hysterics.

“First he pisses in my wine,” Gwaine mumbles, only loud enough for Lance to hear it, “And now he tells the crown prince he thinks his paramour is good in bed.”

Now that? That does tickle him a bit, and he finds himself covering his mouth as well.

Percival shrugs, oblivious, “He looks it.”

“He looks it?” Arthur presses, and if Percival hears the edge in Arthur’s voice, it does not slow him.

“Sure,” Percival says, “Well—it’s more as if he doesn’t look it. Those are the sneaky ones, you know—they look innocent, and then bam! You're all laid out and you don't even know what's happened."

Right, so this is the worst of each of these situations, and Lancelot literally saw them lying naked together.

“I see your point,” Elyan begins, “But I raise you—”

“Why don’t we test this theory, yeah?” Arthur interrupts, and it’s like getting punched in the gut. Gwaine even chokes on his water, doubling over and coughing while Leon hangs his head in absolute mortification, and Lance rubs an incredulous hand over his face.

Percival and Leon stare.

“What?”

“Merlin,” Arthur says, “I’d like to test Percival’s theory, if you’ll have me.”

If you’ll have me---that’s disgusting. That’s so far beyond anything Lance has already heard from them that he actually doubles over and puts his head as far between his own knees as he can get them, thoroughly humiliated by this shameless display.

Fucking Percival.

“You can’t be serious—” Elyan cuts in, but Merlin cuts him off.

“Arthur—” How has he said just a name so sensually, and why has he chosen to do so, and will Lancelot ever unhear this conversation? God, he hopes so. “—I believe you are well aware that I will have you.”

Nope—this one’s forever.

“Brilliant,” Arthur says, “I’ll return with the results in a bit. Be prepared for a very detailed account.”

And with that, they promptly leave, Lancelot, Gwaine, and Leon all appalled, and Elyan and Percival clambering for answers that the three of them must now provide.

Merlin and Arthur are gone for a ridiculous amount of time, but none of them have the balls to go and check on them.

[+1]

Lancelot never imagined he’d see Arthur cry, much less weep, but as Arthur does, gripping his paramour’s shirt with what must be a terrible relief at seeing Merlin alive, he cannot help but think Arthur is the strongest, most courageous, and kindhearted man he has ever met. He glances over to Gwaine, who meets his gaze.

Gwaine nods. 

Lance nods back.

The fight had been bloody, but the knights remain mostly unscathed with the exception of Leon who had taken quite a few hits, but was breathing, and insisting he was alright. The scariest part of the battle had been Merlin, whom had been, at one point, surrounded, and then disappeared from anyone’s sight. 

It didn’t take much searching around after the violence had quelled, but it had taken enough that Arthur had completely convinced himself of the worst.

But Merlin was fine. Mostly unharmed.

To watch Merlin pet Arthur’s hair, whisper sweet-nothings in his ear, and assure him time and time again---

I'm here. I'm here.

---while the crown-prince weeps into his chest, shaking like a leaf—it is heartbreaking. So much so that after a few moments, Lance must avert his eyes, and finds his fellow knights doing the same.

“I thought I lost you. I thought—”

“Arthur,” Merlin says firmly, “You must breathe. I promise I am right here.”

After that, the knights give them their privacy, congregating where there are the least amount of bodies, but where they might still keep a wary eye on the townsfolk. You never know about the people out here and what they think of royal customs such as paramours, or more specifically, the disregard of gender that often occurs in such an arrangement, specifically this arrangement.

Lancelot makes sure to keep his wits about him.

“I see it a great disservice to the very idea of love that they may not marry,” Leon says finally, breaking the silence.

“They cannot marry?” Percival asks, “I thought that legally—”

“Arthur must produce an heir,” Lancelot interrupts, “It’s not a matter of the church, it’s a matter of the royal line.” 

There’s a silence—not long, but shifty and a little disappointed at that harsh reality.

“We could always throw them a wedding, someday,” Gwaine pipes up, “Not that I don’t think they are totally disgusting—” Lance elbows him in the arm, effectively shutting him up.

“Quit while you’re ahead, Gwaine. A wedding is a nice idea.”

Another brief silence.

“I don’t think I’ve ever known two people so in love,” Lancelot continues, softly. And though no knight offers his verbal agreement, it is unanimous, and implicit.

[rainbow--panic]

Hi!! Can I get Dutch, Arthur, and Hosea with a male (or gender neutral) s/o who’s a very angry Russian?

Please and thank you :]

Hello! Hope you like this!

Pairings:Dutch,Hosea,Arthur x Russian!Reader

Warnings:Hosea is a freak and the author is hilarious

Dutch

It was not love at first sight, or second or third or anything after that. When Dutch first met you, you had just been involved in a bar fight, with men all knocked out around you he felt like allowing you into the gang would be a risk worth taking. When he had gone up to you he did not expect you to be the angriest, and only russian, he had ever met. Once Dutch was able to calm you down enough, he had explained himself and soon enough you joined the gang. Dutch always trusted you, you were his right hand, next to Arthur. Over time he knew he could trust you with anything, his protection, his money, his hopes, his dreams, and most importantly, his feelings. 

It happened long after you two had known each other. One day the two of you go out drinking alone in some back hick town. You were letting off some stress that had been building up and the both of you got a little too drunk. For a majority of the night in the saloon the two of you were having a grand time, until you both went out in the back for some fresh air. Dutch looks at you and says "Ya know, you are the best gunner I have" He put his hand on your shoulder, mainly to steady himself so he didn't fall down. "And I would love to be with someone in marriage like you someday" He laughed. All you did was cock an eyebrow and say "Well I am someone like me" This seemed to have thrown Dutch off as the way you said it wasn't slurred at all, making him think he hadn't actually been drinking with you all night long. However everyone knows that russians actually getting drunk is a myth told to you by the government.

And that's the story of how you two got together. Though it took some time for him to tell the gang, it's safe to say that 50% were shocked, the other 49% saw it soming, and the 1% were mad as hell, the 1% being Molly. While most of your time is spent in camp, at night Dutch will sometimes close his tent flaps so the two of you could get some private time or he takes you on short trail rides. While we see how Dutch treats Molly in game, safe to say he treats you nothing like that, because deep down in his heart Dutch knows that you can milly rock his shit.

Arthur

Arthur met you when Dutch brought you back to camp. Dutch had told him to keep an eye on you. For a majority of the next few months you were there, you kept to yourself, only talking to a small number of people. If you weren't working or hanging around, you could often be found terrorizing Micha. Lets just say that if Michca wanted to 1v1 a russian, he was gonna be someone's bitch by the end of the night. The first time Arthur had to break you up it was only because Dutch told him so. And after watching you beating the shit out of micha while he was pinned to the ground he had decided he had enough entertainment for the day and pulled you off of him only for Micha to go running for the hills, literally, he avoided camp for days.

After a while you and Arthur got some quality time together going on robbing expeditions. You were always quick by his side and you could beat some mean ass. One time the two of you were pinned down, Arthur got shot in the shoulder by an O'Driscall and you were running out of bullets fast. That's when you get the idea to run out, hiding behind different covers momentarily, raced to Arthur's side, picking him up, and bolted for the woods where you threw him on your horse and got the hell out of dodge.

Arthur had actually admitted his feelings to you one night after these robberies. He had told you that he didn't want these feelings to interfere with jobs so it would be best to tell you so hopefully they would stop. You reciprocated these feelings because if you didn't you wouldn't be reading this right now. You two decided to keep it secret from a majority of camp, the only people yall told was charles, lenny, and john, but sean found out and had surprisingly kept his mouth shut. Whenever he has time, he will usually find a secluded spot to take you to, or if everyone is fast asleep, the two of you would go not too far off from camp to finish any business. 

Hosea

When he had met you, Dutch had just brought you in. In fact he introduced himself to you as soon as you got off your horse. He didn't know much but he knew a few Russian phrases, some of the phrases he confused with german. Hosea took a great interest in you from the start, which you had found odd as not many people are interested in a scary angry russian, in fact because of all the russian stereotypes, people often picked fights with you.

Over the time you had been there, hosea learned more about you than anyone ever had. You taught him some Russian and even a few things from back home. You shared your hardships and he even helped you with some english phrases you couldn't understand, like "There is no cow on the ice" and "To set the dogs on someone" and things like these make you think that it is a miracle anyone learned the english language.

Though Hosea didn't hide his feelings towards you, if he did he didn't do a good job of it, you never had the nerve to ask or confess your own. It was actually on one of your many fishing trips that he confessed. He was reeling in a small mouth bass at the time when he told you how he viewed you as more than just a member of the gang, more than just a friend, and more than just a business partner. Hosea told you that he would like it if the two of you could go on to be something more, but he understood if you didn't feel the same way. That is when you admitted to him that you knew how he felt but you wanted him to say it first. You said "I share these feelings that you have for me, I was just....how you say.... not right about the way to walk it" he understood what you meant. The rest of the fishing trip he told you of all the places he wanted to take you to, all the events he wanted you to see that he knew was going to be happening in some towns, then he went further and told you all the things he wanted to do with you privately to which you grabbed your bag filled with fish and ended the fishing trip with a red face. Hosea made sure everyone in camp knew not to bother you, even told micha he's not allowed near you or he would be kicked out of camp.

[kayhi808]

Perfect Match - 15

It sounds so stupid, the dress being ruined as it already is, but to watch blood drops speckle it now, breaks your heart. You should be Mrs. William Russo by now if everything went as planned. You shouldn't be curled up in a ball on the ground trying not to die.

The punches and kicks continue to rain down on you. Turns out the guy you killed for planting a bomb in Billy's car has a brother. With your ankle shackled to the floor, you can't escape Arthur's blows.

Paulo & your father. You should have known! You knew you had recognized his voice! It was just harder to remember after being in a car wreck and having a gun pressed against your head. Paulo your father's choice in a husband for you. He will be the first one you kill after Arthur.

"Not so tough now, are you, Mafia Bitch? In what world did you think you could rule?" Ripping off your veil & tiara & grabbing you by the hair he pulls you up & forces you to kneel before him. Trying to jerk away from him only sets your scalp on fire. You wouldn't be surprised if clumps of hair will fall out.

Luckily, before he's able to hurt you more, the tall skinny guy enters the room. "What the fuck, man?! I thought the plan was we leave her alone. We aren't supposed to hurt her. Paulo & Mr Luciano will not like this!"

"I don't remember agreeing to anything like that. She deserves to be punished. This cunt murdered my brother!" Arthur goes feral and the skinny guy runs out of the room. Your feel like you're going to die at Arthur's hands. You feel & hear the crack of ribs. Your body is on fire. You try to curl in on yourself, to protect major organs from the kicks to your stomach.

The skinny kid returns with 2 men who you recognize as your father's captains. They pull him off you & drag him out of the room. You grew up with these men and they just let this psychopath beat the shit out of you. The list of people you want to kill is getting longer.

You open your eyes & see that the kid stayed in the room with you. He looks like he's about to shit himself. He's young, early 20ish, if that. He looks more scared than you do. "What's your name?"

"M...Mike Fontana," he whispers. You want to laugh. This is not the mastermind behind all of the threats.

"Who's calling the shot here?" He bites at a hangnail but stays silent. "I'm going to die here, you might as well tell me."

"No..no.. you can't die. You can't. That's not part of the plan."

"What's the plan?"

"Paulo is going to be mad."

"Michael!"

"Your dad! He doesn't want you to lead. He convinced me to be the face of this shit show, or he would take his revenge on me. I stole money from my father, but it turned out to be Mr Luciano's money. That's what got my father killed. It was me." He starts pacing wiping away tears or sweat, I can't tell the difference. "Your dad found out the truth & blackmailed me into doing this to work off my debt."

"Paulo will kill Russo to marry you. They think if Russo is out of the picture, you'll have no desire to rule without him. You'll leave it to Paulo & your father. He's going to suppress you any way he can. Worse comes to worse, he'd kill you and frame Bill. Then we all know your grandfather would end him.

The real enemy was my father this whole time. Michael mumbles an apology. "What's going to happen next?"

"They are luring your grandfather & Russo away to sign the papers to transfer New York to me and I have to give it over to your dad."

"Once you do that, he won't need you anymore."

"You think I don't know that?!" Michael is again on the verge of tears. "You can't say anything! You have to play along, or they'll end us all." Like hell I'm going to agree to marry Paulo. Fuck no! I'll kill him in his sleep the first chance I get. "Please don't say anything. I need to know I didn't make a mistake in trusting you. I just want to get out of this in one piece. I made a stupid mistake." He cries. This is not a criminal mastermind. He's just a scared kid.

"I promise I won't say a word, but you need to help me. If you do everything you can to help me and Billy get out of this alive, not only will i free you of whatever debt you owe my Family, I will secure you for life. You want a job, it's yours. You want money, it's yours, but we both need to survive."

"I'll do whatever I can, I promise. What can I do? Those paranoid fucks took my phone. I can't make a call. I don't have internet. "

"Are we near any traffic cams, CCTVs?"

Shrugs, "There's a market down the street.

You're unable to move because of the pain you're in, you make grabby hands at your veil that Arthur tore off your head. Michael brings it over to you & you untangle your tiara & give it to him. "Take this & hold it up in front of a CCTV camera...in the middle of the store. Make sure its visible along with your face. Hold up a sign with as much info on it as possible. Do you hear me? Then pull the firealarm & leave. Leave the tiara outside the house we are in. Visible to people outside, not them inside."

"I will try. If they catch me they'll kill me."

"Then don't get caught, kid."

*****

Billy & your grandfather with their perspective teams return to the townhouse to try and figure out where you are. The study becomes the business hub. Micro had this equipment there for the past few weeks trying to hunt down Michael Fontana. He's pounding away on his computers. Checking to see if any triggers went off on the traffic cams between your grandfather's estate & Hell's Kitchen.

Frank has kept an eye on Billy. "You love her. Like, this is real." Billy glares at Frank. "I mean, this happened real fast. This isn't like you. I never heard about her. Never met her and all of a sudden, you're going to marry her and head up a crime family. And now all this shit?"

"Yes it's real. It became real some time ago, but stupidly I never told her. I thought there'd be a perfect moment and it never came. I should have manned up and told her those 3 little words she was waiting to hear. She never got to hear them and I may never get to say it." Bill's voice broke.

Frank silently nods & claps him on the shoulder, "We'll get her back."

Billy shakes off Frank's hand & goes upstairs to your bedroom forgetting he had it filled with fresh flowers for when he brought you back home after the wedding reception. It hits him like a slug to the chest. Bill sits at the edge of the bed overwhelmed with sadness. He strips out of his tuxedo & changes into tactical gear. Tony did all of this to keep New York. He sacrificed his own child. His only child. He doesn't even realize that if he had just asked Billy to step aside and he could guarantee your life, Billy would have done it in a heartbeat. Hell, Billy would have shot himself if it meant you were safe. Now, Billy is consumed with hatred and rage.

*****

Billy's phone chirps. It's Micro. "Have you found her?" already running out the bedroom door to the Study 2 floors below.

"Not exactly but I think we have one hell of a clue. Get down here!" Billy races down the stairs to finding everyone in the study looking at Micro typing away. "So I set up alerts for everyone who might potentially be involved, Mike Fontana being one of them. Along with members of Tony's inner circle...known hangouts, safe houses, everything."

Micro throws a video onto the big screen hanging from the wall, "A few minutes ago, the alert for Mike got a hit. Facial recognition identified him in a local supermarket, so I hacked the CCTV to follow him, and this is what I saw."

A tall skinny guy enters the store, who definitely doesn't look like someone old enough to be messing with the Luciano Family. He walks to the middle of the store, looking straight into every security camera he sees in the store. He then stops & reaches into his hoodie pulling out 2 items. The first item almost brings Billy to his knees. The guy is holding the tiara. Overtaken by sadness, that should be on your head right now. His wife. In the other hand is a piece of paper. Micro zooms in & throws the image on another screen.

Y/N SENT ME

SHE NEEDS HELP NOW

FOLLOW THE TIARA.

I'M NOT YOUR ENEMY. T IS.

T IS GOING TO KILL BR

THIS IS NOT A TRAP. JUST A WARNING FROM Y/N

PLEASE HELP US.

That motherfucker!!!

The guy heads to the back of the market, leaving the paper on the shelf. Looking back at the camera like he's making sure you notice this. He pulls the fire alarm & leaves with the other shoppers.

"Where is he?!" Micro types in more commands & taps into a camera on the outside. They see the kid slowly walking back down the street until he's off screen. "Where'd he go?!"

"Sorry, man, there's no more cameras in the area. I tried looking for a personal feed, home owned cameras, doorbell...sorry, Bill."

Enzo interupts, holding his phone. "We got guys in the neighborhood. They got the note and we have an address."

Billy closes his eyes and shakes his head, a hint of a smile teasing his lips. "You're fucking brilliant, Angel. Hold on, i'm coming for you."

@idaofinfinity @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend @e-dubbc11 @jvanilly @snowkestrel @pequodprincessa @danzer8705 @aoi-targaryen

[late-to-the-magnus-archives]

But It Beats the Darkness - the Malevolent Big Bang 2024, ch 10: ASENATH

"It may not be much light but it beats the darkness" ~ Charles Bukowski, The Laughing Heart

AO3

NOTE BEFORE READING

This is part ten of a Darkthur fic. There is violence and bodily harm.

This fic was written in tandem with Kraiva's IT MAY NOT BE MUCH LIGHT, and is intended to be read together, though both are standalone. For the fullest experience, read the corresponding chapter from each fic. We'll be linking the connected chapters in the end notes of each.

The incredible art in chapters two and eleven are by @wurmeon. The breathtaking 3D models in chapter six are from @iconiccookie.

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

John hadn’t known he could go unconscious.

He hated it even before fully surfacing, hated the loss of self , of awareness,  and he rocketed back into consciousness (nothing there was nothing a big blank black spot of NOTHING ) ready to scream flail cry—

Then he heard Arthur’s voice, Arthur, and the knowledge of that man and familiarity of his presence anchored John before he could fully fly away. 

“—has to happen this way!” Arthur. 

Arthur was here. John was safe. After wouldn’t let—

“Buddy,” said the witch. “This isn’t something you should be involved with. You ought to run.”

“ No, ” Arthur snarled in a voice John knew.

Finally, finally, John swam high enough to make his voice heard. Stop! Wait!

“Ah, the prodigal crumb returns,” said the witch.

“John?” said Arthur, sitting up.

John panted as vision came back. Arthur was on the cold, hard ground, his back to the altar. Before him knelt the witch.

(Arthur. Arthur wouldn’t let him die. Arthur had promised. Arthur—)

Fuck, she was powerful. John knew the signs; it really didn’t matter that she was dressed as a man. She was a woman, and the Mother had blessed her, and she held all the cards. Power slid all over her like loving lightning, practically sentient, utterly her own. “Look at you,” said the woman.

“John,” said Arthur. “This is Asenath Waite. She came here to clean up the mess that ritual left behind.”

It took him a moment to remember. That gap of nothing seemed like it lasted twelve thousand years. What?

“She wants to disperse the energy. That’s what she’s here to do,” said Arthur.

And with it would go every chance, every opportunity to gain his body, take power back, control this world. She can’t!

“I know. She knows. I told her,” said Arthur in his being patient voice.

Oh, no they were colluding! Just because the two of you have gotten chummy while I was�� while I was… what the fuck happened to me? 

“Smacked you,” she said with a shrug.

How fucking small had he become? Whatever you want with it, our need is greater. We seek to right a terrible wrong!

“Uh-huh,” she said, shifting in her crouch. Her men’s boots, tightly laced, sat high on her calves, and her dark blue overalls looked bulky as though she’d dressed to stay out in the cold for a long time. “So he says.”

It’s the truth!

She pointed. “You’re lying. He isn’t.”

Oh, shit.

“He’s not lying!” Arthur said.

“He is, but fuck if I know about what,” she said with another shrug. “Not that I care all that much. Gods always lie.”

And before John could think of a reasonable way to deflect that statement, Arthur stuck his whole damn foot right in their mouth. “Not this one. He’s changed.”

They were both silent. (Was this… got? Why?)

“He has,” insisted Arthur. “He isn’t perfect, and no one is, but I’m telling you, he’s changed. I trust him.”

Oh.

“Your funeral,” she said. “I still can’t let you have this power.”

Oh.

“We need it ,” Astor said. “Unless you really want Larson to continue. You want children sacrificed? You want that monster making deal after deal until he takes over the whole fucking world? No? Then let us work!”

Arthur sounded bestial, but he wasn’t exaggerating. He’s right, John said. Larson had plans. Big ones. They won’t stop with this failure and our escape. We have to do this, witch.

“Don’t call her that,” Arthur murmured.

“No, he’s right, I am one,” she said, utterly casual about it. “The Great Mother takes pretty good care of us.”

Arthur clearly had no idea how to reply to that, but John did. She has no place here. This has nothing to do with her. This is Yog-Sothoth’s territory!

“Technically, it’s all hers,” said the witch, because of course she did, “but you’re not entirely wrong. My job, li’l nugget, is to try to keep balance at least a little.”

Balance? Nonsense.

“Balance?” snarled Arthur, his switch long flipped back into feral . “You fucking let Larson run around, murdering children—”

“I’m not all-knowing,” said this Asenath Waite softly. “We knew people were disappearing. We knew power was being banked. We knew it was somewhere in upper New England. Beyond that… how in heck did you track that guy down, anyway?”

“Parker did.” Arthur swallowed. “He figured it out. Made a map. Put pins in it. Calculated days between disappearances, and… and he did.”

Fucking Parker. Again.

Asenath shook her head. “No wonder he’s got such a rep in Boston.”

“Yeah. He’s a smart cookie, plate-smashing and all.” Arthur smiled weakly. “One of the things we have to do is bring him back from the Dreamlands. He should… he’s heading… as close to this place as he can.”

Asenath winced. “He probably won’t make it, friend.”

“He did. He will. He’s not alone,” Arthur said.

And John saw her face. Saw the suspicion dawn. Saw the realization lend worry to her already ridiculous self-imposed burden. “Parker was with you when this went down, you say.”

“Yes.”

“When you got… ‘John’ in your head.”

“Yes.”

“He’s not alone?” she prompted.

Arthur opened his mouth.

Witch, John interrupted. If you step back and allow us to do what must be done, I will see to it you are given the blessing of the King in Yellow.

The look the witch gave him was so dry, so utterly disbelieving, that he wanted to fucking smite her. “Really?” she said.

John sputtered. Yes! Really!

She sighed. “Fucking complicated politics. I really don’t want it? But I can’t say no, because fucking complicated politics.”

John barely refrained from snarling.

“Can you help us?” Arthur suddenly said.

“Not really, no,” she said. “Complicated politics, like I just said.”

Arthur, just leave—

“Can you help us get Parker back? Or at least show him where to go? Something. Anything! He’s the reason you know who’s behind all this. He’s a good man, Miss Waite. He doesn’t deserve to be stranded away from the people he wants to help. The least you could do is help him, too.”

Well, that was one way to approach this.

Asenath studied them.

“Please,” said Arthur, his smooth voice cracking (and John privately swore he would earn that sound himself someday).

“Give me a few minutes,” said Asenath, standing. “Let me see if I can… get some guidance. All right? We’ll take it from there.”

“Thank you,” said Arthur.

“Don’t thank me yet,” she said, and walked off, her hips swaying in her men’s clothes.

Finally. We can’t trust her. She belongs to a god.

“And what does that make me?” Arthur said, and laughed like a broken bellows.

He was joking. Probably.

John wasn’t joking. I know I can trust you.

“And I trust you.” And Arthur said it like it was a vow, and John felt that guilty twinge again.

But why? Arthur was a mule . A ride. A host, until John could regain what was his and continue his plan. Gaining Arthur’s trust was part of the plan. So why did he feel things when Arthur talked like that?

“Good news, children,” said Asenath, sashaying her way back toward them. “Mother seems to think the best thing to do here is let you do whatever the hell it is you’re going to do, and I—just like I was already doing—get to contain the fallout. Whoopee.”

“You’ve got to help more. There’s got to be more,” said Arthur.

“Nope,” she said.

“Please.”

She sighed.

“Please. He’s murdered so many people. Please.”

Asenath was not immune to Arthur’s brand of pitiful. She took off her newsboy cap. “Buddy…”

Arthur was blind, but he still managed to grab her with a lunge, like a snake, snagging her wrist. John froze, but Arthur didn’t pull the witch closer, and the witch did not (to John’s great relief) attack. 

“You’re all right with Larson’s survival possibly failing on your conscience?” said Arthur, low.

The witch set her jaw.

“Because if you are, ma’am, then you’re part of the godsdamned problem,” Arthur snarled.

This woman could kill them. Arthur, for fuck’s sake!

“Wow. Damn, okay,” she said, twisting her arm away. “Wow.”

Arthur, having made his point, sat back again, jaw tight.

And Asenath… listened. To nothing John could hear or see, but she did, gaze distant, head tilted. She nodded. “A lot of children killed.”

“His own daughter among them,” Arthur said, his voice breaking, and John felt tears prick the corners of their eyes.

She sighed. “Fine. I’m permitted to do two things for you. One: when he gets here, I’m sealing this place off. No one gets in or out until it’s done, one way or another. That means he can’t run, but neither can you. Understand me?”

“We won’t be running,” Arthur said.

She shook her head. “Right, well. The second thing is I can try to get you in contact with your friend. I can open a tiny space between worlds. Maybe it’ll be big enough for Yang to come through, maybe not, but it definitely won’t be big enough for anything, shall we say, more threatening.”

Ugh. Fucking Parker. That will be appreciated. The help is what we need… and Arthur’s partner back.

Her look said she knew that was a lie.

“Thank you,” said Arthur, who didn’t.

“I’ll be back,” she said, standing. “This will take some doing. Where will you be?”

“Here,” said Arthur.

She rolled her eyes. “I’ll bring you some sandwiches, you weirdo,” she said, and left.

Arthur settled back against the altar and wiped his eyes.

What an unexpected development. She’s going to get rid of that power once Larson is down. Disperse it.

“Good,” said Arthur.

John stayed silent. He couldn’t afford to let her do that. He needed it. He knew himself, too: his other half would be trying to take it, as well, no matter what he’d told Parker.

John would not let him win.

#

She came back within the hour. She came carrying bags of things, clinking tools and something suspiciously squishy-sounding. She came, nodded once, handed them a lunchbox with four sandwiches in it, and got to work.

Arthur was so focused on the sandwiches that John couldn’t fully tell what she was doing, only that it involved a lot of chanting, a few squealing somethings sacrificed (rabbits, he thought), and little unnerving zaps of power that trembled through the ground, making the topsoil dance.

Arthur ate two sandwiches and stowed the rest in their stolen car.

And John was afraid. Everything looked different. The sky had a slightly green cast. The air seemed thicker, as if smoggy.

Arthur hadn’t said much.

Arthur, said John, and wasn’t sure why he verbalized.

“Yes?”

We… we’re going to make it. Right?

“We are.”

Why was he asking the mortal? (Because the mortal was his anchor.) How do you know, Arthur?

“Because if I don’t believe it, I won’t try with everything I have,” said Arthur. “We have to believe it. Then we’re all in, no hesitation. Larson is going down.”

And after that?

The slightest hesitation. “I don’t know. Parker can help us figure that out.”

Parker. Who was being conned by John’s other half. Parker. Who would likely be used as a conduit for the other half to grab that power. This was not going to end well. We’ll do it, Arthur.  

(No matter what it cost.)

“We will, my friend,” said Arthur, and took John’s hand.

John froze.

(No matter what it cost?)

Arthur… the loss of Arthur would be a shame. A real pity. But what was the loss of a mortal in the face of the resurrection of a god? John would do what must be done, no matter what it cost. We will. Friend.

“All right, you two,” said Asenath, approaching. “You ready?”

“For?” said Arthur, startling.

“Talking to your partner. I already did, and he’s ready to see you.”

Arthur made a small sound. It was a sound that choked at John, that hurt to heart—desperate and grateful and raw and beautiful. “Yes. Please.”

She slashed the air. John gasped; a hole had appeared there, ragged and weird. “You’ll have to keep cutting it open; it’s going to heal on its own. Okay?”

Arthur’s eyes widened. “How?”

“You’ll use this dagger,” she said, and put it in Arthur’s hand.

You mean in the middle of fighting Larson and who knows how many fuckers, we have to keep this thing open? John demanded.

“Someone has to,” she said. “From what I saw, the other half has more power.”

And a strange breeze came, kissing Arthur’s face—a breeze from another world, warmer than here, scented with things that human could not possibly know. “Parker?” called Arthur.  “Parker!”

John stared. Through the slit, a man appeared. It was the man from Arthur’s dreams. It was, without doubt, Parker Yang, peering through this fine, ragged hole in reality. “English,” Parker said, voice rough, and laughed, a weary sound. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”

Arthur felt for the hole, and it was real enough for them to clasp arms. “You’re not fucking dead. You bastard. You scared me so much.”

John was silent.

“Could say the same for you, showing up outta nowhere with one arm and no eyes,” Parker said, squeezing tight. “The Dreamlands… It’s… It’s wonderful there, English. I got a lot to catch you up with.”

Ugh!

Arthur swallowed. “Maybe I'll get there someday. Asenath talked to you?"

“Yeah. Hastur and I are in agreement,” Parker said. “Right?”

“Regrettably,” came Hastur’s voice from behind.

John shuddered through every inch of himself, every psychoplasmic tentacle, every spiritual limb.

“He’s not a fan of me passing back home without backup,” Parker muttered to Arthur. “Big baby. But he gave his word.”

“Ready?” warned Arthur.

“Shit. Hold on. Lift me, will you, already?” Parker said, and then came the most indignified few moments John had ever seen. Parker wriggled and twisted, and Arthur pulled and roared (and John refused to help and told himself it was because he had to save their strength), and somehow, though that slit had barely seemed big enough for his head, Parker wriggled through and back to planet Earth.

They landed together, heavily crashing.

Asenath clapped. 

From the other side of that hole came a new growl—a bigger growl, one that easily eclipsed John’s own.

John was close to panic. Focus , he told himself.

Arthur and Parker stood. “We’re almost done,” said Arthur. “She’s gonna trap him when he comes. We’ll fucking kill him. It’ll be over.” 

Hastur hissed his agreement through the tear, and Parker let out a sigh. “No more chasing that fucker across county lines. No more sacrifices.”

“No more children being murdered,” said Arthur evenly.

Time to deal with the fox in the henhouse. So, said John. It seems we must work together. 

“Nice of you to join us,” Parker said, taking a step back to survey Arthur’s face. “You’re in his eyes?”

Yes. And here. And John manifested an arm (totally unnecessary a moment before and totally necessary now because he said so). A tentacle. A limb , powerful, too big for Arthur’s body, slightly translucent, like glowing tar.

Arthur made a low sound. It clearly didn’t feel great. “John’s powerful,” he said. 

Parker’s brow furrowed. “Hey,” he said, frowning. “You feel okay when he does that?”

“Fine,” Arthur lied. “Larson started with his daughter, Parker.”

Parker froze. “No shit,” he said, soft.

“He did.” Arthur wiped his eyes. “He killed her. She was… she needed him, and he…”

“Not to interrupt,” said Asenath. “But listen. You guys don’t have long, and I have got to go. Nice to meet you, Yang. This knife Arthur’s got will keep the gap open. You’re going to have to keep an eye on that hole, get it? You have a good rep. I'm rooting for you, but you have to fight your own battle. When they arrive, I’m sealing the place off. Understand?”

They all understood, all of them, and John felt a weird thrill at the racing conclusion of this clusterfuck. We have to set traps, he said, We don’t have much time.

“Got it,” Parker said thickly. “We… English, we’ve got a lot to talk about. After. We’re gonna make it through this, and make that fucker pay. I swear.”

Yes , thought John. There would be a lot of revenge soon.

“Good luck,” said Asenath Waite again, and walked right out of their story.

(chapter nine) (chapter eleven) (masterpost)

----------

Notes:

Read the accompanying chapter of It May Not Be Much Light here!

[theshelbyclan]

Partners in Crime

Summary: Against Polly’s advice, Tommy decides the only way to deal with Teddy is to involve her in the business to some degree (part 10)

(gif by @retromafia​)

A/N: After the last fluffy chapter, I couldn’t really go back to Teddy being kept out of the loop forever. Besides, I think we all know that eventually Teddy will be the one who will take of the business XD Also, there’s a lot of tea in this chapter, maybe my cravings are becoming a bit too apparent… Either way, a lot is happening in the episode, so another tumultuous one. Let me know what you think! Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 Words: 4168 ***

Every morning at 5 AM, the milk man did his rounds, even in Small Heath. Many people couldn’t afford it, but for those that could, he went passed the houses and delivered directly from the milk cans. Oftentimes, kids hung around him, trying to earn a penny by helping him carry the heavy cans. Sometimes, he indulged them. Even during the war, the milk round remained on of the few aspects of normal life that continued on. Teddy used to run after him ever since she’d learned of his existence, because in those years, when people had too much on their minds, no one noticed a five-year-old little girl. But Teddy wasn’t after a job for the day; she used to try and steal a bottle from the back of the cart, often succeeding as well. 

Now the Shelby’s were richer and more powerful, so there was no longer any need to steal milk. But old habits die hard, which was why Teddy proudly came walking into the kitchen with a bottle of milk. John grinned broadly at her and pulled her onto his lap. “Just what I needed,” he said, “Only bloody barbarians drink their tea without milk, right?”

“John?” Teddy asked, “Where’s Arthur? Is he with dad?” “Don’t call him ‘dad’,” John’s face fell, “He’s not your dad, alright? He left mum even before you were born and hasn’t come back since. We needed him then and he fucking left us.” Teddy had about a million questions, but she sensed that John didn’t like to talk about it. Of course, Teddy had always known her father was a bad man and after meeting him, all of her suspicions were confirmed. Still, he was her father and his absence had left something aching inside of her. She’d never known her mother either, she’d died weeks after her birth, but she knew of her. This all meant that Teddy Shelby was effectively an orphan, and as much as she loved her brothers and aunt, she could never be entirely whole.

“What was he like?” Teddy couldn’t contain herself. John sighed and eventually answered, “He beat the shit out of us, Teddy. Always gone, always drunk and when he was at home, his anger made the woodwork groan. Mum bore the brunt of it, Tommy sometimes tried to distract him, to spare her a little. Arthur looked up to him in a way, but he got beaten the most. Something about being the oldest. Dad always was fucking with his head.” “What about you and Ada?” “We became good at hiding,” John chewed his toothpick and squinted a little, “Ada used to crawl under the table and refused to come out until he’d been gone for over an hour. One time, I tried to get him off mum and he held my hand against the furnace until it started smoking,” John held us his hand and for the first time, Teddy noticed the old scars, still visible. “He’s not a good man, Teddy.” “What’s this?” Aunt Polly demanded as she entered, “Why are you telling her about him?” “She asked, Aunt Polly.” Teddy bowed her head and tried to find a way to deal with all of these confliction emotions, but it wasn’t easy for the ten-year-old. Polly looked sternly at her and shortly said, “Forget about him. He’s my brother and I wouldn’t piss on him if he was on fire.”

“But I want a dad too!” Teddy suddenly called out, emotion exploding out. Polly leaned over the youngest Shelby, not in an intimidating manner, but just to make herself very clear, “You’ve got brothers, Teddy, and trust me, they’re a lot more fucking valuable than that sad excuse for a man.”

“We not good enough for you?” John joked. “Yeah, you are…” Teddy smiled up at him, not wanting to make him upset. Polly looked from John to Teddy and filled in the blanks out loud, “But it’s not the same.” “Did you get the milk?” she then asked, to try and distract them both. Proudly, Teddy held up the bottle. And John smiled again, deciding to let go of whatever memories his father had brought back, “Yeah, where would be without our Teddy-girl!” For a few more moments, Teddy and John played and laughed together in the kitchen. Then he pushed her off his lap again, saying he had more work to do, and telling her to go play. Happily, like she was any other child, Teddy skipped off and went outside. Back on the streets, she thought of things to do. She was no longer fighting with Tommy, which made her mind all the more lighter. So, meeting up with a few other kids, they decided to play spies, Teddy’s favourite game, and go to the Chinese laundry. Once inside, she and a few others played hide and seek, with the added thrill of possibly being chased out by the workers. Bathed in red light, Teddy hid in between the new suits and listened for the count. But instead, she heard her brother’s voice. Peering out, she saw that copper and Teddy forgot all about the other kids. “With these guns as bait, who knows what we’ll catch,” he said. Teddy immediately understood he was talking about the robbery, but why he was working with this copper, she couldn’t understand. Wasn’t he the enemy? Cynically, she heard Campbell say, “So, I’d be solving a problem for you.” And Tommy replied with, “And I’d be winning you that medal.” Campbell laughed, “If I get a medal, I would have your initials engraved on the backside” Teddy saw Tommy turn his head and he smiled cockily, “My initials on your backside. That’s quite an image.” This made Teddy snort, and she quickly covered her mouth with her hand at the sound. Tommy’s head flew in her direction, however, and he excused himself with Campbell, who then walked away. Tommy took two steps towards her and easily fished his youngest sister out of the clothing racks. “Look what I found,” he commented, lowering his voice. “Me,” Teddy replied, sheepishly. “You,” he repeated, “Teddy, what the hell are you doing here?” “Playing hide and seek?” “Well, you’re found. Come with me,” and Teddy had no choice but to follow him as he still had hold on the cuff of her blouse. But he didn’t seem too angry this time. On their way home, Teddy bombarded him with questions, “What did you want with that copper? Why did he say he’s solving a problem? What problem, Tommy? Are you giving him the guns? Why? Is he paying us? John told me you were at the Garrison, is that true? Did he tell you about the copper? Did you tell the copper about him? Why are we working with coppers now, Tommy? I thought, we don’t like coppers, right? Where are the guns now? Is this about the robbery?” Suddenly, Tommy halted and stopped Teddy in the middle of the street. He held up one finger and drilled holes into her with his eyes. Immediately, Teddy understood, and she lowered her voice, “The robbery’s not spoken of. Sorry, Tommy, I forgot. But…” “Nope!” he cut her off and continued walking, “No more questions!” “But I only have one or two questions!” she protested, sort of jogging after him and his long legs. “You had about twenty just now!” Teddy panted and tried to keep up with him, “But I only want to know…” “Everything!” her brother called out, “You only want to know everything, right? Not a single day goes by and there you are, asking me a million fucking questions, because you want to know about everything.” For a moment, Teddy was afraid he would get mad again, like he did before. But then he picked her up and carried her into the house with him. Together, they walked through the crowd of people at the betting shop and into the kitchen, where Tommy dumped her down onto the table and poured himself some whiskey. “Can I have some whiskey?” Teddy asked, “What does it taste like?” “Absolutely fucking not, it tastes like shit, Teddy.” But even Tommy didn’t think for a second she would believe him. So, he decided to try and distract her by giving her what she wanted, “Alright, go on, you can ask me a few questions.” Teddy sat up, beaming, and tried to think of the best question to ask first. So, she wanted to know, “Who did you meet at the Garrison?” Tommy sank down in a chair and lit a cigarette, resigned to be interrogated, “Who says I met anyone there?” “John said you went to the Garrison, so you told John you were going, but if you were only going there for that girl, you wouldn’t tell John. So, you went to meet with someone and then you talked to that copper and all of this started after you told me about the robbery, even though we’re not speaking of it, but after that thing we’re not speaking of, you were angry all the time and busy, so if you had time to go to the Garrison and meet someone, it was about the guns and that’s why you’re like this now.” Tommy coughed a short laugh, “I confess. I met someone at the Garrison.” “Who, Tommy?” “You know, you should really consider becoming a copper yourself, Teddy. You’d do great with unwilling suspects.” “Fuck coppers,” Teddy said quickly, “Tommy, I want to kno-ow,” she whined, “Who did you meet?” He blew away some smoke and not really sure why he was telling her this, he said, “Someone called Byrne.” But Teddy’s logic didn’t stop there, “Did he want the guns?” “Yes.” “Why?” “Because he’s IRA. The IRA is an organisation…” “I know what the IRA is, Tommy,” Teddy quickly cut him off, “Like the man that got shot by a woman the other day.” Her brother frowned, “Where did you hear that?” “Nancy told me,” Teddy said, matter-of-factly, “Is he dangerous?” “Byrne? Yes, he is.” “And that’s why you went to that copper?” the little girl’s eyes grew big with disbelief, “Did you shop an IRA man to the coppers, Tommy?”

“Not really,” Tommy explained, “I’m playing a double bluff.” Teddy furrowed her brows and was silent for a while, very uncharacteristically, and eventually asked, full of criticism, “Is that smart, Tommy?”   His sister made him laugh, “Not sure, sweetheart, but after tonight, I’ll know.”

Opening her mouth again, Teddy didn’t get a chance to ask her next dozen questions, because a young boy came in and handed Tommy a piece of paper. Her brother folded it open and read the message. Then he told Teddy, “I need to get things ready. Now, I know you have more questions, I can’t answer them all now. God knows if I’ll even live long enough... But after tonight, if I don’t get shot or anything, I’ll find you, eh?” Teddy sat up to protest, but he was already out the door. *** That evening, Teddy couldn’t sleep. She’d already counted all of the fucking sheep known to England and it hadn’t helped. She’d told Polly about her concerns, but she’d just told her to keep out of it. Finn on the other hand, had been very ready to answer all of Teddy’s questions as the much wiser older brother, but unfortunately, he had none of the answers. Her thoughts kept coming back to Ada and the baby, to Arthur and to her father. Finally, exhaustion took over and she drifted off to sleep.

When she woke up, she found Tommy sitting on the side of her bed. He’d watched her sleep and thought about how peaceful she looked, how small, how sweet, and how very different she was when awake. And indeed, as soon as she opened her eyes, a determined look came into her eyes and Tommy braced himself to be bombarded with questions once again. So, he decided to ask the first one, “You and Finn have your own beds. Why do you never use them?” As per usual, both Shelby’s slept huddled together under one blanket in one bed. “Cold,” Teddy shrugged. She was a Shelby after all and sleeping alone wasn’t anything they were used to.

Her brother mused, “I should take you out on the January some time, it’s been too long since you got to be a proper gyspy kid.” Teddy shot up, “Now! Can we go now, Tommy? Please, I’m really sick of Watery Lane!” He laughed shortly, “Nope. I have business first, Teddy. Come with me. And be quiet, don’t wake up Finn.” But both knew you could fire a canon in that small bedroom and still Finn wouldn’t wake up. Teddy followed Tommy down the stairs and into the front room. Only then, in the light of that parlour, did Teddy notice his face was all bruised and she saw a few specks of blood on his temple. Seriously, she commented, “So, it didn’t work, Tommy.” “No,” he sighed and he lit another cigarette, “It didn’t fucking work.” “That copper fucked us over,” Teddy concluded, and her brother nodded in reply.

“Did he beat you, Tommy?” “No.” “Did you sell them the guns?” He shook his head, “I lied about where they are. The coppers were supposed to come in and arrest them, but they were late. Like the fucking cavalry back in France. And then Grace took the shot and everything went to fucking hell.” “You were with the barmaid,” she stated, “Why are you always with the barmaid?” “Why not?” “I don’t trust her. She’s a liar, Tommy, and she…”

That’s when Aunt Polly walked in and Teddy stopped talking and looked up. She took one look at her nephew and niece and warned, “If this is what I think it is, Thomas, I forbid it.” Tommy looked at her with raised eyebrows, seemingly asking her: what do you think this is? Polly elaborated, “Theodora is only ten and she’s far too young to be involved in anything.” “Well, if you have any suggestions on how to keep her out of anything, I’ll happily take your advice, Pol.” “Don’t call me Theodora!” Teddy slumped down in her chair and sighed theatrically, “And I’m not involved in anything. Tommy would rather be with that barmaid than with me…” “Is that true, Thomas?” Tommy cleared his throat and looked away. Then he tried to change to subject, “I’m taking Teddy out onto the January, Pol. When all this is done.” But his aunt wasn’t so easy, “Why?” “She needs to learn how to skin a rabbit for starters. Light her own fires…” “I can light a fire!” A high-pitched voice interrupted. “…with wet wood. I want to teach her how to steer as well. Maybe even get a horse onto the boat. She needs to become a proper Shelby now that she’s growing up.” “Is that nostalgia I hear, Thomas?” Polly asked. He shrugged a maybe at that. So, she said, “Fine. But becoming a proper Shelby is just that: boats and horses and fires. No talk of robberies or guns or any of the business. I mean it, Tommy, I don’t want you talking to Teddy about it.” “No, Pol, the robbery’s not spoken of,” Tommy repeated, but he winked at Teddy when Aunt Polly didn’t see.

And when she’d left, Teddy said, with a twinkle in her eyes,” You lied to Aunt Polly!” “Yes, you taught me well. Now, I need your help, Teddy. I need your advice, because you were right, that copper wasn’t to be trusted and now I have to decide what to do next…” Quietly, the two siblings talked about all the things not spoken of. Tommy explained to her all the bargaining chips he had left and the different possibilities he saw. Teddy asked her thousand questions and somehow, that made things clearer for him: through her eyes, he could see the weak spots in his plans. He told her who was involved, where the guns were and what his plans for London were. And, of course, Teddy offered her help. She even came up with her very own strategy, one that Tommy would consider. In the end, they made the solemn promise to each other not to tell Polly about any of this. Then they went their separate ways, as partners in crime. *** Playing two-up was officially forbidden by law, an outlawed form of gambling, which was why all the kids played it in Small Heath. Teddy tossed her coin and jumped up into the air as she’d won. In the mud in front of the Garrison, she could oversee the whole street, and that’s how she liked it. Suddenly, she noticed her brother Finn running her way. “What’s wrong?” She asked him, abandoning her game at once. Finn panted and explained, “Tommy took me to the grave at St. Andrews. We’ve lost them, Teddy.” Obviously, Teddy had filled Finn in about everything she’d learned the days before. She’d promised Tommy to keep it a secret, but he’d have to understand that Finn didn’t count. She and Finn shared everything.

Together, the two of them hung around inside the pub, waiting, but also just passing the time. “Go and get me a few more buckets, will you?” Harry ordered them about, “There’s a sixpence in it for you if you don’t spill any!” And quickly they got to work. Grace watched the two of them. In her own way, she’d taken a liking to the youngest Shelby’s. Like small, feral rats, they seemed to be a part of Small Heath, like the bricks and the houses were. They’d never known anything else, she realised, and this was their kingdom. Pity they would get caught up in what was to come as well.

Tommy entered the Garrison, ruffled Finn’s hair for a second and asked Teddy where her shoes were, but without waiting for an answer, he then took Grace into the back. Teddy grabbed a glass from the bar and tried to listen in on the conversation. “What’s he saying?” her brother hissed. “Can’t hear,” Teddy groaned, “Everyone’s too fucking loud in here. Something about the copper?” Both kids turned as they heard shouts from the streets pouring in through the open doors. And Finn called out, “The police are here!”

At once, Teddy threw away the glass and busted through the door, “The police are in the lane, Tommy!”

“Teddy, you and Finn go on home, alright? Go now! No arguing with me, I don’t have the time, you do as your told for fucking once,” he bit in a slight panic. Then added, “I’ll need to lay low for a bit, you tell your aunt what happened, alright? I promise I’ll be fine.” But when she saw that it was Grace who then took Tommy away and out the back of the Garrison, Teddy’s worries only grew.

Meanwhile, chaos had descended upon Watery Lane. Finn and Teddy ran outside, where they saw the police invading every house. Obviously looking for someone, they grabbed every man and woman and threw them out onto the streets. When they tried to break open the doors to their house, Teddy jumped forwards, intend on fighting the police force herself. Finn grabbed her and wrestled her back inside the Garrison. Suddenly strong, Teddy couldn’t fight him off her, but still she tried with all her might. But her brother had her arm in some kind of deadlock and had the most determined look on his face, “No, Teddy. It’s not safe. I’m your brother and I told you ‘no’.” Teddy cursed in a manner far beyond her years, but she still couldn’t free herself. Sometimes it seemed like Finn was the younger one, often looking at Teddy for advice, but on rare occasions, he decided. When he was certain of what needed to be done, especially when he felt he needed to protect his little sister, he was stronger. Then the police burst in through the doors of the Garrison. Fear washed over Teddy as she saw the inspector and he asked after Tommy. But her big brother wasn’t afraid. Finn told him, “You’ll never find him.” Teddy had never been more in awe of him than she was in that very moment. But when Campbell told them to go home, they both ran as quickly as their little legs could carry them. Back at home, the two of them barely said a word to each other. Instinctively, they knew everything had gone wrong, and there was nothing they could do about it. It wasn’t until after Aunt Polly had held them both, they fell asleep on her lap on the sofa. *** The next morning, Polly tried to distract them with chores and school, but they weren’t interested in the slightest. Especially when Arthur showed up and Aunt Polly deliberately kept them away from him, they became even more persistent. And Polly had had enough. She was nervous enough as it was. So, when she found the two of them in front of the fire, smoking, she clipped their ears and send them up to bed without supper. About an hour later, Teddy crept down the stairs again. She was hungry, but all she could find was tea. Tea would have to do for now. Suddenly, she noticed Arthur sitting by the fire. But he didn’t look up when she approached. Maybe he hadn’t seen her? Loud steps echoed through the house and purely out of habit, Teddy hid behind the curtains.

Tommy walked in and pulled aside Arthur’s collar to examine what looked like rope marks to Teddy. She wondered how he’d gotten hurt. Finally, Arthur spoke, “So Polly told you.”

“Yep,” Tommy answered, and he poured himself some tea. That’s when Teddy looked down and realised she was still holding her teacup behind the curtain. Silently, she took a little sip. Still warm. “You should’ve used a gun,” Tommy said, and it was like the ground fell out from underneath Teddy. Arthur tried to hurt himself?

Her oldest brother growled, “Are you laughing at me, Tommy?” “Yeah.” Arthur looked away and Tommy continued, “Just when things are starting to go right, Arthur, you try and do this.” Tommy laughed, “Don’t you like fancy parties? Or, um, champagne? Or fast cars? And how about this.” He showed Arthur a piece of paper, “Your name on a business card.”

“Shelby Brothers, Limited. Arthur Shelby. Associate bookmaker,” Arthur read.

“I just had them picked up from the printers this morning. You’re one of three shareholders. Me, you, John. And according to the law, we are equal partners. And it is written in the paperwork in black and white. A third, a third, a third.” Tommy sat back and joked, “But the thing is, well, me and John, we quite fancy splitting your share, so… just next time, use a gun, man.”

Arthur finally laughed and Tommy smiled broadly. Then Arthur turned his head and called out, “You can come out now, princess.” Careful not to spill her tea, Teddy showed herself, “I wasn’t sure if you’d seen me.” “Ah Teddy,” he said, “Little spy. I always check every cupboard and curtain of every room I’m in, because usually, you’re there.” He wasn’t wrong.

Teddy put down her tea and carefully climbed up on Arthur’s lap. Then she hugged him for a while, not knowing what to say. She didn’t quite understand and what she did understand, there were no words for. So, she didn’t say any.

Tommy watched them both and continued, “Our men at the station tell me that copper is leaving town.” He leaned forward into Arthur, “We’re in the clear. We’re on our way up in the world, brother. Believe me.” Both brothers hugged with Teddy sandwiched in between.

In a small voice, Teddy eventually said, “Don’t do it again, Arthur.” “I won’t. I’m sorry about that, princess.” “Not even if Tommy tells you to because he wants your share.” “Ah, he’s only joking,” Arthur laughed. “Well, it’s not funny.” Tommy coughed once and looked down, “Understood. Next time, we’ll just get you to cheer Arthur up, eh?” “Yes,” Teddy cuddled up even closer to Arthur. She wasn’t closest to him by any means, but he was still her brother and she couldn’t bear the thought of him being gone. Not after the war, when she thought they’d never come back. Not now. “She is a good spy though, Tom. Maybe we could use her,” he joked Tommy nodded and continued drinking his tea. More serious, he said, “Me and Teddy have already discussed strategies.” Teddy looked proudly up at Arthur, who questioned, “Does Polly know?”

“You can’t tell her,” she quickly said, “She’d kill us.”

Arthur looked at Tommy as if to say: she’ll do more than that.

But his brother waved a hand, “It’s all under control, Arthur. Just let me do the thinking.”

“And me,” Teddy quickly added, searching for a business card that had her name on it in the newly printed stack, “I’m part of the business now too.”

***

Masterlist

[ofnifflersandkings]

Endgame Strategy

Character: Benny Watts

A/n: I said I’d write for the hot chess people so I did. The timeline for this is kinda confusing but the desperation I had to write this made me simply not care.

•

“(Y/n)!” 

A familiar voice pulled you from your current task of getting Benny’s two ton apartment door shut. You barely got yourself inside before a pair of arms promptly wrapped around you. 

You staggered backwards by the sudden weight, a noise between a wheeze and a laugh escaping you as you registered who it was.

“If it isn’t my favorite drama queen!” You pulled back to get a good luck at Beth, a big grin busting out on both of your faces.

“Come in,” She ushered you in, helping you take off your coat and asking you little questions as she lead you over to the sink.

You were a pretty established photographer for some big fashion companies, so you had been traveling with Cleo around Europe for the better half of a year. You’d telephoned Benny as soon as all of your campaigns wrapped up and he instantly insisted you come to New York to make up for lost time.

You had just started to get a word in when you felt someone come up behind you and squeeze you abruptly, practically toppling you over. “Look what the cat dragged in!”

You looked over to see Benny already looking down at you with a grin before promptly ruffling up your hair. “Hey stranger,” He grinned. You pushed him off and turned to give him a proper hug. 

You noticed Arthur and Hilton lingering behind him and you pulled yourself from his hold to greet them as well.

“You came at the perfect time,” Benny said, slinging an arm over your shoulder. “We were just about to start.”

“What do you say, (Y/n)?” Hilton asked. “Finally gonna indulge us and play a game?”

You shoved his hands off of you and sent him a smile. “You don’t need some newbie slowing down your thunder,” You noticed Benny giving you the pleading look he always sent your way when you turned down playing chess. You swear you thought he knew how to deflate his eyes on purpose so he looked like a kicked puppy. “No, I don’t need your patronizing when I barely make it past five moves.”

Benny was an old childhood friend of yours, so you had known Arthur and Hilton for almost as long as he had. And they made it their personal life mission to rope into playing against one of them. But you were renowned for your patience and they’d yet to wear you down. 

Beth sent a small pout your way and handed you a glass of water. “Oh please, now who’s the drama queen. You were doing great when I was teaching you last time we saw each other.”

Benny’s gaze shot up. “What?”

You scoffed at her, completely forget about your last encounter. “Now that’s not fair, we were hardly playing. You had to show me where to move every five minutes.”

“When did you see each other?” Benny pushed.

You sighed, smoothing down your sweater. “When I was in Paris with Cleo, we only saw each other the one night and I was just bored and tipsy enough to let her show me.” 

She grinned at you, shoving her arm into you as she leant into your side. “I think you have lots of potential. I could make a grandmaster out of you, I know it.”

Benny’s eyes followed you as you moved from your standing position to sit next to him on the sofa.

“You never let me teach you how to play,” He murmured to you with a huff, causing a small tuft of his hair to fly upwards.

Benny had made several attempts to get you into the game he loved so dearly. And as one of the few constant people in his life he wanted you to be part of his world. But each time was met with a firm refusal on your part, insisting you wouldn’t get it. He’d try to pull every trick in the book, every charming smile and all the pretty words he knew to try and convince you to let him show you, but you were always indifferent to his charisma. 

It annoyed the shit out of him.

Truth was you didn’t want to risk embarrassing yourself in front of him. You’d seen him play at almost every match he was ever in and it was almost scary how good he was. You could play a casual game and maybe boast a win or two, but playing against him wasn’t something you think you’ll ever do. Besides, give him the satisfaction of having your inevitable defeat over your head? Not in this lifetime.

You let out a light laugh, smiling at Beth as she moved to grab the other boards from Benny’s alarming collection he kept stuffed in the closet. “You’re too intimidating when you play, I’d be distracted.”

Benny rolled his eyes, thinking of the stern look that permanently sets on Beth’s face. The woman who looks like she’s three seconds away from going for your neck during her games but he was too intimidating.

You took a sip from your glass of water and lightly knocking over one of the knight pieces on the board in front of you. “I don’t see why it matters, I’ll be beat regardless of who’s playing.”

He frowned, he’d always wanted to play you. Not because he cared about winning but he just wanted you to see his skill firsthand. You didn’t bat an eyelash at winnings anymore, and you never stuck around for his in-depth lectures about game theory with the other players. But he also knew you liked knowing the way things worked. And since chess was his bailiwick, Beth being the only other American player who could beat him, he knew you’d be impressed. At first he just thought you weren’t interested, so knowing you were being taught by someone else stung twice-over. 

You knew something was wrong when he didn’t send a clever remark back your way. Benny liked to think he was this cool and collected character, but really he could be quite the prima donna. Knowing him for as long as you did made him an open book, you could almost always know what he was thinking.  

“Don’t be such a baby, Bens.” You grinned, leaning over to tap the end of his nose, something you always did to irritate him. “She crushed me anyways.”

“You’d win if you let me teach you.” He argued, looking at you pointedly. 

“I don’t need to win, that’s your job,” You leaned into him, trying to stroke his ego to get him to drop the subject. 

Benny’s ears perked up and he was about to go into of his grand self-assured lectures when Beth interrupted him, promptly placing the boxes of chess boards on the table in front of him.

“I dunno, (Y/n),” Beth gloated, passing a box to Hilton. “I think he’s losing his touch, last time we played I damn near emptied his wallet.”

That got your attention, and you sat up with a laugh. “You’re kidding? In speed chess?” Your cackles only grew when she gave a proud nod. “I can’t believe I missed it!”

Benny scoffed, pushing away from you to help set up the boards. “You hardly missed anything-“

“She kicked his ass, ,” Arthur chuckled, loosening the cap on his beer bottle. “Said she’d kick him the crotch too when he tried to argue with her.”

You raised your glass to Beth in commencement. “I knew there was a reason I liked you so much.”

“Another simultaneous?” Beth asked, noticing they were moving the boards onto the floor, she turned back to you. “Have you ever seen once of these?”

You shook your head dramatically, moving from your place on the sofa to the floor so you could sit right next to the action. “Nope! I mean I know what they are, but I’ve never actually seen one.”

She smirked, placing the clock at every board while the boys situated the pieces. “Well, you’re in for a treat, these are my specialty.”

You leaned forward, placing your elbows on your knees so could you watch every move. The speed of the game was something you had long gotten used to, but it never was any less impressive. You don’t know how anyone’s brain could go that fast, but watching the pieces fly around the board completely fascinated you. 

Beth really was everything the chess magazines said she was and maybe even more amazing in person. You found it hard to pull your gaze away from her hand, watching as she completely tore through the three boys pieces. Hilton and Arthur were the first to lose, knocking over there kings.

You got ready to settle in while she took on Benny, but not even a few moments later you watched him grimace and reluctantly fish his wallet from his pockets. 

“Wow,” You breathed out, looking over at Beth with a gaze that could only be described as positively starstruck. “I mean I knew you were good, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like that.”

Beth felt her face get a little warm, not used to such straight-forward praise. At least not since she was a child prodigy. She reached her hand up to brush her hair out of her eyes, and pulled her gaze away from you.

“I can do it again.”

Benny felt his eyebrow twitch, he was used to your praise being directed at him for the most part. You had grown up with him constantly talking about and challenging others to play chess. And when he started to make a name for himself he’d taken you along with him. Before your work took off, you had more time to see his games in person. But, even when you couldn’t physically be there, you always called when you saw the results in Chess Review or tuned in to one of the broadcasted matches.

He was the best in the States for a long time, so you had become especially hard to impress. He knew Beth was better him than by miles, but to finally have his title of best chess player you knew taken away made him feel scratchy. 

But he scoffed, straightening his back to try and get his focus back. “Not if I have anything to say about it, Harmon.” 

And so for about three more games, she absolutely crushed the three boys. You got closer to the boards each time, admiring Beth’s superhuman skill. It made you feel a little sting of pride, the girl was showing up three of most arrogant and skilled players you knew. 

“God,” You leaned back onto your elbows, sniffling a giggle when. “I would’ve given any amount of money to be here to see the faces on these boys when you did this the first time.”

Beth smirked, rounding up the pieces to put them away in their cases. “Me too, we could’ve gotten it all on camera.” 

You groaned. “Such a missed opportunity.”

You lolled your head over and saw Benny staring intently at the board, a deep frown on his face. You smiled, scooting over so you could lean all your weight against him. “Don’t look so sad, Bens. I’m sure you would’ve gotten her eventually.”

He laughed, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “That’s what you used to tell all the sorry losers I used to beat.”

You closed your eyes, settling into his side and sighing at his warmth. “You’re not a sorry loser. You’re the best chess player I know.”

“Still?”

“Hey now, I didn’t drag my ass to every one of your matches for decades for you to question my loyalty,” You teased, you opened your eyes and saw something on his wall. Nestled snug inside a frame was the first time he was on the cover of Chess Review.

“You remember when I took that?” You nodded towards it.

Benny smiled properly, his eyes getting a familiar shimmer. “Yes ma’am, I told them I wouldn’t be on the cover unless you got to take my photos,” He wrapped an arm around you. “Course if I had known it’d make you a hot shot photographer who had to go away all the time I might’ve kept my mouth shut.”

You smiled, reaching up to flick his forehead. “I’ve taken all your photos for decades” You made a sweeping notion with your hands to all the various magazines scattered around his apartment. “Even when we were kids, I think I earned my little adventures abroad”

Benny gave you a look, one you couldn’t quite place, but he kept your gaze for awhile. A small smile snuck up in the corner of his mouth before he looked down, strawberry blonde strands hiding him from your view.

“Well don’t stay away so long next time, yeah? I missed you.”

[rein-ette]

For your headcanon time period ask! How about England in the 1600's? I'm curious to see what you'd think he was up to 👀

Aighttttt lets get crackin.

For me the standout events of the decade 1600-1610 was the death of Queen Elizabeth I in 1603 and the Union of the Crowns, and the ongoing Dutch-Portuguese War Arthur was meddling in.

I like the idea that Arthur was out and sailing about at the turn of the century, since that feels appropriately symbolic. It would also mean he was probably abroad when Queen Elizabeth made her Golden Speech in November of 1601, which marks the end of her reign. That speech was surprise for everyone, since Elizabeth was supposed just supposed to talk about taxes or something, and instead revealed that it would be her last Parliament. She then proceeds to proclaim her undying love for her country (wink wink) and gratitude to her ministers and subjects. I highly suggest everyone go read the speech because its a banger, but my favourite line is this one: And, though God hath raised me high, yet this I count the glory of my Crown, that I have reigned with your loves.

To add drama, I think Elizabeth would have prevented people from notifying Arthur, knowing he would be horrified and come running back, cutting short his time on the seas that he loved. When he returns a couple months later he indeed is horrified and after the customary ranting ("but why -- I would have come back had i known" "precisely") would retreat to his own room, read the speech, and break down.

Of course the thing with Queen Elizabeth is that she declared she was "married to her country." I probably wouldn't go with too literal an interpretation of that (tho she did the whole ring thing, man, like thats hella cute), but I do think Arthur was deeply in love with her on many different levels. Among his feelings was certainly a romantic attraction, but it was probably so intertwined with other kinds of love that Arthur could not, and eventually did not, care to tease them apart anymore. As for what she felt back, I don't really like speculating about historical characters, but I do think he would have been one of her closest confidants and cherished companion and partner. Her death in 1903 surely would have been devastating for Arthur, and after returning he definitely spent every second he could manage by her side until the very end.

Upon her death and the crowning of James I, however, Arthur would have skedaddled as fast as possible. This is because, with the coronation of James, Scotland and England were now united under one crown! Hurrah! Yeah, Arthur would have gotten out of there as fast as possible. He would have slapped that tiara on James, told his ministers not to let Scot fuck around and ruin everything, and boarded the next ship out to nowhere.

Lucky for him there are Spaniards to beat, traitors to hang, treaties to sign, and Shakespeare to watch as well! The Treaty of London ends the Anglo-Spanish War in 1604, Othello premieres the same year, guy tries to blow up Parliament in 1605 (lol Guy geddit), some random trade treaty is signed in Paris and "The Scottish Play" is released in 1606 (a personal favourite). During this time Arthur probably tried his hand at a couple sonnets and plays as well. Always a prolific writer and ever the escapist, literature would have provided a good outlet for his grief in these years.

Finally, I mentioned that the Dutch and Portuguese were having a grand old time blasting the shit out of each other. The English and Dutch East India Companies were created respectively in 1601 and 1602, after one of Port's dudes, after sailing around Asia for a bit, runs off at Amsterdam and publishes all the routes. Naturally the Dutch and English are thrilled and Port is not well-pleased, but England cannot outright start a war on Port (who's technically still a friend, even if hes in cahoots with the Spanish at this point). So Arthur lets the Dutch do the hard work of seizing all the Portuguese colonies while he provides strategic support, as one does. This leads to some very angry letter exchanges indeed with Gabi, and Arthur probably more than once guiltily slunk past Lisbon on the way back home. (Dude named Hudson was also havin a grand old time sailin up rivers and down bays in North America in 1909, so when sick of assisting the Dutch you know where Artie went).

And that's my hcs for the 1600s! As ever it got pretty long -- oops. But thanks for the ask -- I've learned quite a bit and am genuinely intrigued by this decade now, as it seems be an fascinating and complex snapshot of the very beginning of the British Empire we came to know. The foreshadowing, man.

[its-deputy-caleb]

Micah Bell - Partners in Crime and in Love Pt.1

YES i know there’s 58 requests sitting in my inbox for re8 HOWEVER red dead is my comfort game and i needed to write this verbal mess down. I’ve been thinking of writing a micah fic for weeks now and i finally did it bc as much as i love re8 red dead is my fav and always will be. this is so self indulgent i swear.

for anyone that actually reads this the reader is pretty gn but does lean towards fem this time and i’ll be doing a part 2 for sure bc i love the rat man.

part 2 is now here

—————————————————————

Today was finally the day. The day for the big bank job that Dutch insisted was the right move for the gang. This was despite numerous doubts from Hosea and various other camp members that robbing a bank in broad daylight in the state’s largest city was a risk the gang couldn’t afford to make right now.

The whole morning there had been a sour feeling in your gut, a tiny voice shouting in the back of your mind that something wasn’t right. It wasn’t like you to get nervous on a job, in fact you recently robbed the Valentine bank with Bill on his job. Originally you weren’t interested in going, happy to let Karen go on her own with the guys but Bill insisted you go as you were one of the best gunslingers the gang had.

Robbing and killing came naturally to you and being outlawed in six states had never bothered you during your time as an outlaw. That’s why it was almost impossible for you to ignore the sick feeling in your stomach that was slowly building.

Making your way over to Micah, you see him sitting on a wooden crate cleaning his guns for the inevitable shootout that comes with bank jobs. Taking a seat next to him, Micah doesn’t need to ask you how you are; he can practically see how restless and agitated you look.

That’s the thing about your relationship with Micah, you understood each other (especially in public) and didn’t need grand public displays of affection to know exactly what the other needed in that moment.

The camp mostly stayed clear of your relationship, I mean you were probably two of the camp’s biggest troublemakers and risk takers when it came to planning jobs and robbing folk. Both of you had a shot quicker than lightening and could practically shoot your way out of any situation you found yourselves in. But regardless of how ruthless anyone thought you two were, you always had each other’s backs and wouldn’t stop to think about saving the other.

One night after a successful train job Dutch decided to hold a camp celebration. It was a mostly quiet night for you, having not decided to party with your companions despite Sean, Charles and Javier all offering for you to join in. Instead you decided to spend the mostly quiet night with Micah sharing a bottle of whiskey and splitting your share of the earnings. After each job you always had a bet with Micah over who could shoot the highest number of lawman. It was a bet the two of you had with each other just to cause more mischief and it always brought a smile to your face when Micah would lose and sulk about it for the rest of the afternoon

At one point during the night Bill strolled over to you while Micah went to get another bottle of whiskey. He was nice and polite despite the smell of beer coming from his breath, maybe even a little flirtatious and all was well until he asked the question ‘Why is you with a rat like him when you could be with someone as charming as me?’. Bill ended up with a face full of dirt and a broken nose, not to mention a killer hangover.

So yeah, the gang tended to leave you and Micah alone…

Micah’s knee lightly brushing against your own brings your thoughts back to reality. He’s stopped cleaning his guns and is looking at you with soft eyes and a gentle smile, the one that’s only reserved for you.

Despite being a hardened outlaw that has known nothing but chaos and the open road for most of your life. The gang has observed from afar your softer sides, whether it be the time you both fell asleep next to each other by the campfire or getting shit scared when the other has been shot and the rest of the night is spent with soft kisses and bandage wrapping.

Micah holsters his revolver and gently takes your hand in his.

“Sweetheart we’re gonna be fine, ain’t nothing gonna go wrong, now common let’s go get dressed for such a special occasion.”

~

Everyone is just starting to get into their fancy attire for the job when you and Micah are already packing your saddles and getting ready. You’re wearing matching white suits with a red shirt only yours is tailored to show off your figure a lot more and your plunge top and corset doesn’t leave much to the imagination but hey, if you’re gonna go out it’s gonna be in style.

As Micah finishes tightening up Baylock’s saddle you lean forward and hold his wrist in your hand. Your thumb gently brushes the soft skin there, trying to hide the nerves that have been slowly eating away at you all day.

“I don’t like this Micah, somethings gonna go wrong I can feel it…”

Micah’s never been great with emotions but you’ve known him long enough to know how he comforts you. The arm that’s caught in your grasp turns and brings you forward into a hug, his chin resting on your head as you hold him tightly against you.

“Ain��t nothin gonna happen to us, just think of it as another bank job.”

You nod and hold him closer, a rare event for such a public place where anyone could walk by but neither of you really cared at that moment. You press your face into his shoulder, trying to shake off your uneasiness.

“You better not die on me now Bell, you still owe me that new holster for beating you in five finger fillet.”

~

Fuck did the bank job go wrong. Horribly wrong. From the moment you got off your horses and stepped foot in that bank it all turned to hell.

Bullets where flying everywhere, there were civilians screaming in terror trying not to get caught in the crossfire, glass was being shattered by dynamite and Dutch was trying to formulate a plan while in shock of losing his dear Hosea.

A bullet whizzed past your head and you took out another Pinkerton. It was chaos. Every time you managed to bring down the line of Pinkertons another carriage full of them would arrive with the Saint Denis Police.

You couldn’t see Micah anywhere, but each time you tried to look for him your attention was dragged back to the action in front of you and the numerous Pinkertons shooting at you.

Arthur had snuck onto the roof at some point and some of the other members where making their way towards the rooftop as well. You were about to make a bolt towards Dutch and Javier on the ladder when Charles stopped you with a hand on your shoulder.

“Go that way, we’re the diversion! Karen and Sadie are a waiting near the alleyway of the tavern, we’ll meet you back at camp in a few hours, GO!”

Charles pushes you down the alley way and climbs up the ladder to catch up to the others. You would’ve protested but your body is running on adrenaline so you didn’t think as you snuck your way out of safety.

~

Micah was furious that Charles had sent you off on your own to find your way back, if it wasn’t for the fact that the five of them where hiding from the law in a rundown city apartment he probably would have argued with him for hours.

But deep down he knew it was the right thing to do. He knew that you’d be 100 times safer away from this chaos then if you were here with him, even if you could handle yourself.

For hours they sat in that little room, Dutch formulating a plan on how to get out of here while Micah tried not to worry about whether you made it home safe. Now he understood that sick feeling of worry in your stomach, he only ever got it when he worried about you.

By nightfall Dutch had somewhat of a plan to escape via the docks, sneak out onto a ship that would take them somewhere and it hit Micah in that moment that it would be some time before he saw you again…

The guards where everywhere, the entire city on high alert after the bank and Charles ended up running so everyone could make it onto a boat. As Dutch attempted to negotiate with the captain for a cabin, Micah lit a cigarette from his blazer pocket, trying to take his first deep breath of the night.

“We were fools for thinking we could pull off the bank…”

Arthur rests against the crates, fatigue clear in his eyes but willing himself to stay awake. Micah however didn’t want to sit and talk about what could have happened and what actually did, he had a headache already and certainly didn’t need a lecture from Arthur for another reckless decision he helped create.

“Whatever you say Morgan.”

Sighing defeatedly, Micah flicks his cigarette bud over the side and into the water below, making his way to go sit on the other side of the crates where he can think.

~

Back at camp you pace around the halls of Shady Belle, the floorboards creaking under the weight of your boots.

“Fuck this I’m going to find them-“

Before you make it out the front door however Miss Grimshaw blocks your exits.

“You’re not going anywhere anytime soon. The Pinkertons are everywhere looking for us. Now I know you want your precious Mr. Bell back but you’re just going to have to wait out the next few hours until he returns with the rest.”

You decide to ignore the slight condescending tone of Susan as you see a rider approaching into camp. Your hand is on your holster, everyone who’s left joining you to crowd around the man slowly coming closer. Everyone is relieved to see its Charles, but only slightly. He’s alone and a horrible feeling of fear washes over you.

“Charles… Where is everyone… Where’s Micah?”

[pillage-and-lute]

Hey I have a holiday prompt for you! What if it’s the pairing’s first holiday together and they stress about figuring out what to get each other? Any pairing you feel like! PS Reading your stuff never fails to put a smile on face!💜💜💜

Hi Blondey!

cute shit ahead. Modern AU

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“Yen,” I swear,” Geralt panted into the phone. “It’s an emergency. Please, I need your help.”

“No.”

“Yen please I’m actually begging.”

“You should have thought to beg before Christmas Eve.”

“I’m meeting him tonight, Yennefer, I’m on Wilson Street, with all the shops and I’m so lost, please.”

“No.”

“I’ll set you up with Jaskier’s hot friend. The one from the coffee shop. She’s single.”

“...I’m on my way.”

-- -- -- Across Town, Triss and Jaskier’s Apartment -- -- -- 

“I just thought I’d have more time to get him a gift,” Jaskier wailed, draped dramatically over Triss’ beat up armchair. “And then it was thanksgiving, then finals and it’s Christmas eve and I don’t have a gift.”

“Well,” Triss said, sipping her cocoa and barely looking up from her book. “It’s not noon yet, shops aren’t all closed. What kind of gift does your relationship need?”

“What?” Jaskier looked up from his flop of despair, confused. 

“I mean, if you’d been dating for a month it would be slippers or some scotch or something.”

“We’ve been dating eight months though!” Jaskier wailed. “I love him, Trissy, desperately. I see his face and everything goes all pink and mushy.”

“You should get that checked out.”

“No, I mean,” Jaskier sat up and looked at her. “I think he could be the one. He might be it for me.”

Triss looked up from her book. She’d known Jaskier since university, and his heart had always been so mobile, but there was something shining in his eyes. She shrugged mentally. Put it down to a Christmas miracle, but Jaskier was really in love.

“What does he like?”

Jaskier huffed. “He likes being grumpy.”

“And?”

“Me.” He paused for thought. “His horse, Roach, he loves riding. He loves his goddaughter, and mythology.”

“Lord of the Rings nerd?”

“Oh you have no idea, he’s basically Aragorn if Aragorn had albinism.”

“I know a place,” Triss said, getting up. “Put on your coat.”

“Will it be open?” Jaskier asked anxiously, pulling his boots on.

“They live above the shop,” Triss said, throwing his scarf at him. “I know the owners, I’ll just shoot them a text.”

-- -- -- Back on the other side of town -- -- --

“Okay,” Yennefer said. “And you’re sure the hot barista is single?”

“Triss,” Geralt said. “And yes, apparently she’s been crying about it to Jaskier for ages.”

“Right, let’s go looking,” Yennefer said, looking remarkably cheerful.

The rows of shops were mostly open for last minute shoppers and Geralt and Yennefer fought through them. 

Well, Geralt fought. Yennefer just glared and people moved out of her way. 

“Does he cook?” Yennefer asked, pointing at a cookware store.

“Ramen and box mac n cheese,” Geralt said.

“You said he likes clothes?” A very full store with what could only be called hipster clothing.

“He has lots of clothes I want something...special,” Geralt said. He was trying not to lose hope.

“You really like this one.”

“I do, you met him he’s just...bright,” Geralt said, mumbling a little into his scarf as the wind blew a flurry at him.

“Hey, look at the music shop on the corner,” Yenn said. “I’m down here all the time, I’ve never noticed it before.”

Neither had Geralt. “Is it new?” It didn’t look new. It looked nearly condemned.

“You said he loves music,” Yennefer said, stomping in the direction of the store.

“I dunno, that store looks...”

“He loves music,” she said. “And you love him.”

They entered the store.

-- -- -- Triss and Jaskier -- -- --

“How the hell did you find this place?”

“I told you,” Triss said, matter of factly. “I know the owners. They’ll be down any minute to open it up.”

“They’re opening it up just for us?” Jaskier asked guiltily. It was Christmas eve after all.

“They owe me,” Triss said. “I introduced them. Well...reintroduced.”

“Welcome to The Sword in the Stone, Gifts and Novelties,” grinned a young man with very blue eyes and slightly large ears, opening the door. Behind him a blonde young man grinned cheerfully too, he was wearing a santa hat.

“Hi,” Jaskier said, stepping gratefully inside. “It’s a pleasure, I’m Jaskier.”

“Merlin,” said the young man who’d opened the door. 

“Arthur,” the blonde waved.

“Seriously?”

The pair just shrugged. Well, Jaskier, called Buttercup/Dandelion/Julian/a lot of other things, wasn’t about to tell people what to call themselves.

“I hear you need a gift for that special someone,” the blonde -Arthur- said, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Yeah, he loves fantasy stuff and I just... I don’t know what to get him.”

“Gotcha,” Arthur began to lead him back into the shop. Merlin and Triss were chatting by the door. 

“Were you thinking bigger, got a lovely cardboard cutout of Viggo Mortensen?”

Jaskier pictured Aragorn watching them have sex from the corner of Geralt’s little studio apartment. “Maybe smaller but kind of...niche?”

“Lucky you, this place if full of niche,” Arthur said cheerfully. 

Jaskier looked at the wall full of swords and was that a battle axe? “Yeah...”

“Does he wear jewelry?” asked Arthur, jingling a box full of metal in Jaskier’s direction.

“Not really,” Jaskier said. Then something caught his eye. “Wait...” he pulled something out of the box and held it up to the light.

Somehow...it was perfect.

“How much.”

-- -- -- Yen and Geralt -- -- --

“This place looks closed,” Geralt whispered to Yennefer, looking around at the racks of instruments.

“Not closed dearie, just dusty,” came a cheerful voice from right behind Geralt. He and Yennefer jumped.

“Sorry honeys,” said a little old lady with coke bottle glasses. “Got my slippers on, makes me quiet. She shuffled one foot, clad in pink fluff, off the floor as exhibit A. “Gift from my great grandson, aren’t they darling? Now,” she looked at Geralt with laser intensity. “You’d be needing a gift.”

“Um, yes ma’am,” Geralt said. How had she known?

“Ooohoo you need a gift,” said the tiny old woman, “Cause you’s a boy in love.” She nearly cackled. “Follow me honeys!”

Geralt and Yennefer looked at each other, shrugged, and followed. What choice did they have?

“Got a harp,” the shopkeeper called cheerfully. It was indeed a full, standing, concert harp. It had a figurehead on it but the face looked absolutely agonized.

“Maybe not,” Geralt said.

“Hmmm no,” said the lady, shuffling her fluffy slippers. “Bagpipes?”

“He lives in an apartment.”

“That’ll be a no, then,” said the woman, peering at a rack of instruments in the corner. “Aha!” she shrieked, startling Geralt and Yennefer both. 

“This!”

It was perfect.

“I can’t afford it,” Geralt said, feeling hopeless.

“Oh yes you can,” said the little old lady gleefully, if she could Geralt got the sense she would be jumping and clicking her heels. “Nobody wants ‘em these days, this one’s seventy-five percent off!”

Geralt left with a weird shaped package.

-- -- -- Geralt’s studio apartment, evening -- -- --

“Hey,” Jaskier, said, stomping his boots on the mat.

“Hi,” Geralt replied, stealing a kiss. “What’d you tell Triss?”

“Told her I was sending a gift, what’s you tell Yennefer?”

“She’s heading over there now,” Geralt said. “With that movie they both like.”

“Ocean’s 8?”

“That’s the one, and a plate of homemade Christmas cookies.”

Jaskier smiled at Geralt and stole another kiss. “We’re never going to have a moment of peace, now we set them up,” he said. Geralt grinned at him. “Never, but I think we did the right thing.”

They settled in on Geralt’s little loveseat. Jaskier set a wrapped present on the side table. Beside it, on the floor, was a very poorly wrapped mess. Lots of scotch tape was visible. It was quite large.

Jaskier felt panicky.

“Should we,” Geralt said awkwardly. “Do you want to exchange presents now?”

“Sure.” Oh god, Geralt’s gift was so small, and what if he hated it?

“You first?” Geralt said, handing over the odd package.

Jaskier had always been a rip-it-open present person, but he took his time, although there was no salvaging the taped up paper.

“A lute?” he turned to Geralt in delight, face lighting up.

“A lute,” Geralt said. “Is-is that a good thing?”

“Oh my god, Geralt, yes! Oh I love it! I can’t wait to learn it!” Jaskier dropped kisses all over Geralt’s face, careful of his new baby.

He handed Geralt the little package. “It’s not as great but...”

Geralt was a folding kind of person and folded up the wrapping paper carefully, then he opened the box and took out the amulet with the silver wolf’s head.

“Oh,” Geralt said.

Oh. Was that a good oh or a bad oh? Jaskier tried to breathe slowly.

“Jaskier I...” 

Oh no. He hated it.

“It’s perfect.”

What?

“When I was little I thought I’d be a knight,” Geralt said, pale eyes shining. “And I drew wolf’s heads on everything, my crest, I said.”

Geralt was holding up the amulet as if transfixed. 

“Vesemir can show you, he kept the drawings,” Geralt said. Then he slipped the medallion over his head.

“My knight,” Jaskier said. “My wolf.”

Geralt gave a playful growl. Jaskier’s heart thumped a little harder. Geralt must have picked up on something in his eyes because he cocked his head.

“Oh?” he rumbled, low in his chest. “You want a wolf, do you?” He growled again.

Jaskier leapt up, shrieking with laughter and ran to hide in the bathroom. Geralt caught up before he could close the door.

“I’ll huff and I’ll puff,” he said, dragging Jaskier closer and giving him a bear hug. He growled in Jaskier’s ear.

“And I’ll blow your...how does it go?”

“I’m not sure, wolfie,” Jaskier said, pulling Geralt closer by the amulet. “But I think it ends with you eating me all up.”

It was a very merry Christmas indeed.

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Ope! Idiots! With a random appearance from BBC’s Merlin (In 2020? I guess.) and a little old lady. + the magic of christmas.

[myrddins]

fic masterlist

last updated: 01/11/2023

stranger things (steve/eddie)

someday, baby (you and i should be one) [WIP] | T So, you see, he could call Steve. In fact, he has daydreamed about it virtually every single day. All he would have to do is ask his agent for the guy’s number—hell, could probably search him up in a phone book. But Eddie is what one could call…a total fucking idiot.

eat me alive 7.2k | E “Shit,” Steve whispers. “Because they liked it, Eddie.”

Eddie pauses.

God, fuck, that really is it, isn’t it? That’s the basis of it. That’s the Steve Harrington pussy eating thesis statement.

run your fingers through my hair (i can feel your heart beat) 3.6k | T Eddie doesn't like haircuts, but then he meets Steve.

you looking at me, looking at you [67k] steve/eddie | M Steve and Eddie sleep together. Then it keeps happening. Things begin to spiral from there.

back to the wall, chain to sun 8.2k | T The thing is — look — the thing is, Eddie doesn’t think you can die in the Upside Down. Not that he knows fuck all about the Upside Down. All he knows is that he is still inside it, and he is not dead.

bbc merlin (multi)

something brave and new 7.1k | merlin/gwen/arthur | M Maybe Merlin was the one who got away. Maybe Guinevere was. But for what it was worth, the last thing Arthur expected was to see the both of them together. As in dating.

As in, Arthur’s exes (and quite possibly the loves from two very different parts of his life, but we don't have to talk about that) making it Instagram official by posting a nauseatingly cute photograph of themselves for everyone to see.

Enter: Morgana's New Year's party.

lover boy (what are you doing tonight?) 6.6k | merlin/gwaine | M “Gwaine—”

“Let me down gently,” he joked. “My heart can only handle so much.”

Merlin tilted his head to the side affectionately. “You are drunk. So we can’t take this any further right now. You’re not in the right mind.”

Gwaine’s brow pushed together in concentration. It takes him a moment with all the drink, but he gets there eventually. “That’s… not a no.”

otherwise known as: an attempt at a canon merwaine friends with benefits fic.

fields of gold 92k | merlin/arthur, merlin & gwen | M In which Merlin grieves, remembers, and lives.

You'll remember me when the west wind moves among the fields of barley. You can tell the sun in his jealous sky, when we walked in fields of gold

whether you come as a lover or an executioner, i am ready to receive you. 9k | merlin/arthur | T Arthur doesn’t know that with a single whispered word Merlin could summon a flower, a butterfly, a bird. Arthur doesn’t know how it feels to watch something manifest before you from the utterances of your own mouth. Arthur doesn’t know of the simplicity in which magic lives around him, in the air, in the trees, in his own blood.

Arthur doesn’t know that Merlin loves him. Merlin isn’t sure if he ever will.

aim for my heart, go for blood 11k | merlin/arthur | T Arthur had been taught what to do with sorcerers. But if he had done what he was taught, Merlin would be dead in the clearing behind them.

holdin’ out for a hero 4.3k | merlin/elyan | M What did Elyan do while he was away from Camelot? The answer: Merlin.

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boötes 2.7k | merlin/will | E Merlin has had Will underneath him just enough to know that he likes it.

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I Feel It All (I Feel It All) 5.7k | merlin/arthur | T Two best friends spend a night together drinking beers in a field and realize there might be something more, sadly that’s only the beginning. Also known as: that generic High school fic where Merlin and Arthur are both pining, oblivious losers.

Until the End of Me 2.7k | merlin/arthur | T A fic otherwise known as: 5 times Arthur couldn’t say “I love you” and the one time he did.

harry potter/marauders (wolfstar)

send home the horses (all i do is try, try, try) [WIP] | T Remus and Sirius aren't speaking to each other. James is losing his mind, Lily is worried, and Peter is just exhausted by all of them.

Or, the prank and its aftermath from James' perspective.

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Or, the prank and its aftermath from James' perspective.

shameless (ian/mickey)

baby mine 900 | M  “I’d be a bad dad.” “You wouldn’t.” “Yeah? What about the one that already exists, huh? Am I a good dad to him?” Ian pauses. “Yevgeny?” (11x12)

for you are mine, at last 1.4k | M ian gallagher is a dead married man. (10x12)

this low 2.6k | M Ian has a complicated relationship with love. (10x09 Retrospective.)

wtpo verse | all M

The one where Mickey is the one who leaves. Otherwise known as, yet another Season 6 re-write, a.k.a. Mickey getting the full sentence for attempted murder when there’s no evidence other than word of mouth makes literally no sense. Things escalate from there.

when the party’s over / 12 chapters / 47k

as long as i’m here, no one can hurt you / 5k

this feels right, so stay a sec / 1k

conversations between inmates | all M this is what happens when you can’t stand the fact that characters just don’t talk to each other about their issues. now ian and mickey are in jail and they can’t spend all their time alone in their cell doin it. so maybe for once they can work out their goddamn issues.

circumstances be damned / 3.7k

our own definition of good / 3k

words to a spanish sweetheart / 1.8k

[everafterkeiji]

Song: Certain Things by James Arthur

Summary: When the setter's decision led him to a war with his heart.

Pairings: Keiji Akaashi x fem! reader

Word count: 5.3k

Genre: angst

A/N: i used to listen to this song nonstop and it just suited how sad this is so no happy endings for this one🤺

"Keiji!"

You watch as she runs up to him, engulfing him in the sweetest hug you could ever imagine. How you envy the feeling of being welcome in his arms. His eyes soften at the sight of her, as she rambled on how amazing he was. He gives her his heart fluttering smile as he lets his palm set on her shoulder, kindly thanking her for watching and supporting him throughout the entire game.

Did your shouts of love become silent to him?

She grabs his towel, patting it lightly on his forehead as he blushes finding the gesture extremely embarassing for the girl he longs for to just wipe away his sweat. He tries to stop her but she insisted, even grabbing her water bottle and giving it to him, asking him to drink some water and rest.

"Hey hey hey- look at me please."

Bokuto says, coming from behind you. You turn to him with water baring eyes, a heartache eating you up with every second you continue to watch. Bokuto sighs as he pulls you in his arms, his chin resting on your crown, as he caresses your hair as you let out an agonizing sob. Bokuto sees the way Akaashi didn't bother to spare them a glance, as Akaashis overall being was captivated by the girl that was beside him. He coes her, whispering how he's got her and he'll never have the courage to let her go, the way the dark haired boy did.

"We won today yeah? Why don't we celebrate?" Bokuto tries to tone his voice in his usual cheery self but feels defeated when he sees her. Y/N looks up at him, he tenses up as he holds your head, an instinct that you were going to look again. You were mid way into letting your eyes land on them but Bokuto stopped you as he held your face in his palm, looking at you with an expression you were well familiar with.

"Y/N."

" 'Taro, shit I'm sorry!" You shouted before wiping away your eyes as his heart winces seeing his friend poorly attempt to regain the sunshine that she once was. Puffed cheeks, swollen eyes, red tinted nose, what a cruel sight yet she dared to cover all of these with a smile. It was disgusting how she made it look so believable, fooling almost everyone that witnessed her little facade. Bokuto falling for it countless of times but has learned to tell the difference every now and then, fitting in for the spot of her once best friend who knew exactly what she was truly feeling.

Akaashi would've read her like a novel he loved but it seems like it wasn't as timeless anymore.

It was now up to Bokuto to handle the shattered girl, even when her own broken heart pierced through her like a knife everyday.

"I-I know a good place to eat at! Maybe then I can treat you for being my favorite ace?" She offers with a sickening chuckle. She was achingly trying. He only gives her a smile, accepting her efforts of hiding how empty she felt. He lets his arm fall on her shoulders, comforting her with everything he can do.

"Oh! I'd like that, kind of like a double date huh? Seems like I get to treat my favorite setter too!" Akemi states, eyes darting towards Akaashi as he becomes flustered with her words. Bokutos eyebrow furrows, and with a pout he tries to insist that you didn't want her to accompany them, but you let your arm come before him as he questions your decisions.

"Sure! The more the merrier right, Ko?" Akemi claps her hand as she gathers her things, Akaashi doing the same. Bokuto takes notice of your longing gaze as he pulls you with him.

"So is that right? I'm your favorite?" Bokuto teases, as you laugh punching him lightly on his shoulder. He chuckles but was taken by surprise as you wrap your arms around his neck, standing on your tip toes to reach him. He immediately wraps his arms around your waist as you pat his hair, nuzzling your face in his neck as you smile, feeling gratitude for an amazing friend like him.

"You were fantastic earlier, I'm sorry for being so-" Bokuto cuts you off with a shout of triumph, making you confused as he pulls away. He wouldn't let her continue her sentence, knowing he couldn't stand hearing her blame herself for something she couldn't handle.

"Ah! What a starter! Thanks Y/N! No wonder I'm the best huh?" He shouts closing his eyes, putting his hands on his hips smiling to himself. You laugh, enjoying how it fed his confidence. Akaashi turns to the two of you watching how Bokuto oddly portray his muscles as you laugh loudly. Akemi smiles beside him, finding the duo quite suited for each other

"They should date! Bokuto makes her so happy!" She claims, as Akaashi blinks, shaking his head turning to meet her green eyes.

"She hates guy who shows off their muscles like that. She think's its a bit cocky." Akemi laughs at Akaashi, since what he said sounded like a known fact.

"Maybe everything can change when she's with him."

She states, making his eyes widen. Impossible. She can't just switch her words just because of Bokuto. He says to himself. Once he hears how genuine your laugh was and realizes that the ace was the cause of it, he stiffens at the thought of the you and the captain together. Akaashi was the one to introduce you to him so it was a surprise you two would come together like that, especially when he felt how Bokuto adjusted to you quite quickly.

"Ooh Y/N likes that color! Will you get it for her, Akaashi?!" Bokuto asks, pointing excitedly at a plush toy. Akaashis blue eyes turned to the location where the finger was pointed and he smiles seeing an immensely cute plush toy he knew you would love but this glee ends when he realizes that Bokuto managed to remember your favorite color.

"Bokuto-san, I'm impressed you knew what she liked." He said with an amused smile. The other boys eyes glimmered in the moonlight, remembering your past conversations with him.

"It's easy! Y/N always talk about many things and it's so freaking awesome. You've known her for the longest time right 'Kaashi? She's so cool." His words bring a smile to the setters lips, loving how Bokuto got along with you so well.

"Oh wait! Akaashi!"

"Yes, Bokuto-san?"

"Well! You've been with her since you were young right? So that means.. you like her!"

Akaashi coughs on his water looking at Bokuto. Bokutos cackle echoed through the air and his words consuming Akaashi's thoughts.

"I do like her but not romantically ok?" He defends, but Bokuto let's out a displeased scoff skipping ahead of the flustered setter. Happily moving knowing he's got him on a hot seat.

"That can change Akaashi!"

And it did.

For Y/N to watch Akemi casually serve Akaashi his food, it was like being tortured in a chamber or watching it to make your brain rot. They look perfect, she thinks. Bokuto was eating happily beside him, and setting aside how hurt she was, she chose to ignore the throbbing of her heart. Akaashi was in front of her as Akemi was in front of Bokuto. The two were in well conversation as Bokuto tried to gather your attention while he brings up how excited he was for a new move.

Dropping your chopsticks, you curse as you got out of your chair to bend down and reach it. Grabbing it in your hands as you look up to see a hand covering the sharp corner of the table. Your eyes follow it and realizing it was Akaashis hand, protecting you if you were to hit your head. This minimal effort was enough to set your soul on fire, admiring how he was able to act so quickly and composed. You return to your seat, Akaashi watching you steadily to make sure you were back. You give him a nod, thanking him for being observant as he smiles to you instead.

Just maybe.

You feel the rising heat on your cheeks as you sip water, hoping it were to ease your frantic heart. You observe Akemi, and painfully suck in the harsh truth that you couldn't deny. Everything that Akaashi has told you about his dream girl, the list of expectations he's had, it was all her. The embodiment of what Akaashi wants to hold, to love and to keep. You hear how her laughter sounded like gentle music, even her personality radiated nothing but sunshine.

All you can do was sigh, when a dream like her already has captured the heart of the young boy you grew to love.

She drops her phone, somewhat mirroring your actions beforehand. Akaashi turns to her immediately, as your heart took another strike seeing him mimic the same actions he had with you. Hand covering the edge, with a gentle hand on her back as she picks up the device leaving you stranded in strings of pain. She smiles at him, casually resting her hand on his as a thank you. Akaashi immediately blushes before placing his other hand on top, eyes lovingly holding onto hers.

The string of hope that you held on for dear life, immediately broke as you let the cup of water fall from your hands, taking an excruciating hit as you were brought back to the silent beating of your heart.

I'm certain that I'm yours.

Or at least I thought.

Bokuto calls your name multiple times as he frantically wipes the spillage of the water that was on the table and on your attire. You felt towels pat your lap gently as Bokuto still continued to put effort in grabbing your attention. Akemi looks at you concerned, worried for whatever thought that you had in mind was enough for you to completely lose your grip on reality.

"Y/N, hey!"

"I didn't think I'd be able to stay with you this long, Y/N." He says with a smile as you walk with him. It was early in the morning, both on your way to school. Coffee in both hands as you give him a pout, finding his statement in a different tone.

"You make it sound like you're unfortunate." You joke as Akaashi laughs beside you, sipping coffee before letting out a satisfied sigh.

"You've been with me even before I got in Fukurodani. I'm just really happy I've found somebody to turn to." You smile as your fingers brush against each other in which at the contact made you both blush. All the tension that was held in the moment was a bunch of unheard confessions, both unwilling to let them speak.

"I'm lucky I have you too, Kei."

"Seems like someone isn't technically happy of sharing the spotlight with me." Akaashi teases pointing at a very sleepy Bokuto who was walking up to you two.You giggle at the setter, while his blue eyes stayed on your smiling lips, relieved that it didn't fail to make him smile as well.

"Y/N."

A stern voice makes your gloomy eyes trail over to a pair of blue ones you were addicted to.

"Y/N? What's wrong with you? You made a mess." He says, completely knocking you off your limit. You stood up, hands on the table with your head down as Bokuto grunts knowing exactly what was bound to happen.

"I'm sorry Akaashi."

"That was reckless. You could've spilled it all over us, even Akemi-"

Bokuto winces when the name slips off of Akaashis lips as you hastily grab your wallet placing the money to Bokuto and mumbling a sorry before rushing to leave, tears falling from your tired eyes once you were out of the restaurant. Bokuto observes the way Akaashis eyes remained enlarged when it hit him how harsh he was. The captain wished that this worry of Akaashi would last long, since this was his first time seeing the setter show any concern for the poor girl in such a long time.

"Bokuto, will she be alright?" Akemi asks him, as he lets out a shrug of defeat. Akaashi bit his lip feeling the responsibility of his actions weigh on both him and the ace. He knew that Bokuto would never be able to comfort her the way he does, and reading her expressions when she left, reassuring her wouldn't be as easy.

Because he was the reason why she was hurting, not even realizing the damage has been done too many times already.

Your feet felt like weights as you ran, feeling the burn of guilt pass through you. On your way to pick up some snacks and refreshments for their match, a certain sight caught your eye leading you to your current decision.

"Yes thank you!" You say with a smile before, leaving the store with the things you bought. You rub your eyes, hating how early you had to catch a bus for their match. This was your only chance to watch them again since you avoided Akaashi for days, making Bokuto your company. You apologized dozens of times to Bokuto for leaving him in an awkward situation. Of course he forgave you, deciding to treat you to a movie instead to erase your worry.

Suddenly a familiar voice spikes up your interest, your head turning left and right to find Akemi. Instead, a tall man walks pass you carrying a bag that you've seen multiple times. You shrug, not wanting to lead to conclusions knowing how Akemi was genuine with her admiration for Akaashi.

"Haru-san!"

Akemi greets, arms wrapped around the waist of the man. You turn to see the two hugging and you gripped the plastic bag in your hands, as Haru places a gentle kiss on her forehead making you stunned even more.

"So where we going later?" He asks, as you lower your head, trying to control your breathing. This is impossible. How could she just lead him on like that! You despised how you weren't able to save Akaashi from the beginning, and now it was your turn to drop a heavy bomb on your best friend.

"We'll meet up later okay? I'll just attend my friend's match."

Friends.

You immediately walked away, weakened at what she just said. No matter shape or form, Akaashi would be hurt, completely. It hurt you that you'd have to see the painful expression on Akaashis face. You bit your lip, trying to avoid the look of dismay on your best friend. You let out a sad sigh as you began to pick up the pace in your walk.

Is it his turn to feel hopeless?

You've tried your best to avoid him. The tension being unresolved between the two of you yet you were happy Akaashi understood why you've created distance between you and him.

Knowing the two were inseparable, you were the one to adjust whenever Bokuto would be heading to practice or even going to lunch. Although, Akaashi gave you some space knowing his outburst completely set a different side to your friendship. You two have never really fought in such a way, he knew even if it was a small fight there was a distinct aura that surrounded the two of you. Beyond what happened, he knew you were facing some other problem that he was clueless of and him adding to your issues wasn't helping the both of you.

So whenever the dark haired boy saw you bid goodbye to Bokuto whenever he was on his way to approach the captain, it stung in his heart.

Akaashi sighs beside Bokuto. Koutaro was prepping himself up completely, pressing his palms to his cheeks. They were up to play soon and the blue eyed boy wonders if she would be able to make it back in time. While he wonders about you, his mind swerves to Akemi. He finds himself foolishly smiling at the thought of them holding hands at the restaurant so he looks at his phone, finding her contact and glancing at their photo.

Next to her contact was yours, which he was hesitant to tap on. He shuts off his phone before seeing Bokuto wave frantically with a smile on his face. Akaashi looks at you, eyes shining knowing you made it just in time to bid him goodluck and hopefully to clear up the quarrel. You felt your heart leap with every step, a war in your head in how you were going to tell him. Your hands tightened as you walk over to them, Bokuto patting your head showing how delighted he was that you were there. Akaashi wonders if you could even spare him a glance.

" 'Taro! I have your snacks but- promise me you'll be the best out there and maybe I'll treat you later!" You say as Bokuto punches the air, his mind in a frenzy at the scenario in his head of eating his favorite food.

You turn to Akaashi, shakily grabbing his arm as he stiffens at your sudden contact. He looks at your weary eyes as you desperately tried to calm down.

"Keiji, can we talk?" Why did you say it like that? He asks himself. His name has never sounded so troublesome before. He fidgets with his fingers as he trails behind you as you lead him to a more private place. You felt the shivers reach your body, immediately bringing coldness at how anxious you were. This was the first time in days where you two would be able to converse properly again.

As you make your way to a corner, Akaashis feet was tapping furiously, scared of what you were going to say. He waits for you to speak as he watches you take a deep breath as you hold his arm once again. Softer than before but it felt like a desperate touch.

"Kei- you do trust me right?" Akaashi nods immediately, lips frowning at the tone of her voice. Is she going to leave me? Please say no. He wanted to get this over with so he wonders if you were just going to rip off the bandaid and end the friendship even if he was willing to apologize multiple times. But then, how could you end it just because he was right about being reckless?

"Akemi- she has a boyfriend, Keiji-"

"You came.. to tell me this?"

"Akaashi- I-I know you like her but"

"God Y/N how could you.." Akaashi exclaims as you aggresively run your fingers through your hair, before grabbing his jacket trying to make him stay. He stands there in shock, as rage and envy flow through him overwhelming him in the process. His hands form a ball as it tightens quickly at the thought of how Akemi was just being nice all the time.

Akaashi looks at you only to find truth in your eyes but his heart betrays the both of you, now broken and in denial that the girl he adored was dating somebody that wasn't him.

"Akaashi, please listen to me! I don't want you to get hurt..believe me!" You pleaded, throwing away how hurt you were from the drastic change in his tone.

"Hurt? So you think you're being considerate then?" Akaashi questions her with spite in his tone. His demeanor towering over her as she crumbles at his voice. Akaashis heart coming back to the reason why it was guarded in the first place.

"Keiji.. you know that's not what I mean!" You defended yourself as Akaashi scoffs. It was mocking you how composed he looked yet the tone of his voice was laced with pure hatred. Deep down, Akaashi accepted the fact that he could never really win Akemi but he was blinded by the pain that you brought him.

"You're just jealous, Y/N. Stop lying." He continued, making you shake your head as you tried to grasp his jacket again but this time your hands barely touched the fabric making your heart gasp at how Akaashi was out of your grip.

"I didn't know you could pull off being a liar, and I don't see myself being a friend with a trait like yours."

The tears flowed down your cheeks as you let out a shakey breath, in disbelief at what he just said. I'm not lying, Akaashi. You promised me you trusted me.

"You said you t-trusted me, Akaashi! How could that change for you!" You shouted as he was brought back to Akemis words.

"Maybe everything can change."

"You promise I'll be okay?"

"I've got no reason to doubt you." He says smiling as you lean your head on his shoulder, tracing random lines and doodling away on his soft skin. Under the beautiful tree, with purple painted skies with clouds up above. After a stressful day on your side, the setter took notice of how you've let yourself fall onto your insecurities once again so he took it upon himself and brought you to a silent place to show you how you shouldn't worry about anything, comforting you with his kind words and him trusting you that would be able to regain your old self again.

"Certain things hurt and you're my only virtue." You confess as his heart spikes up its speed with your response. You sat up, gazing at the houses who seemed too tiny from your distance. You held your knees to your chest with lips formed in a relaxed state as you lean on your arm that was on top of your knee.

And I'm virtually yours.

Akaashi remained with his back on the grass as he admired your features wondering how you could ever put yourself down, when you took away his words whenever you were with him, hiding it perfectly and keeping his admiration far from you to avoid the continous breaking of his heart knowing he'd betray your beloved friendship.

I adore you, he thinks to himself as the only thing that reflected in his eyes were the girl he's lost to his wrong decision.

"You changed and it's disappointing. All because of jealousy? I've been with you for so long, how did you become selfish?"

Selfish. I must've been crazy then, you think. You let out a bitter chuckle, Akaashi frightened at this side of you you've yet to show him before. It was like poison consuming your body, in which the poison came in the form of his words.

"All I've ever been is selfless, god I even let you fall for someone else when I've been in love with you for years."

You took a step back as Akaashi stood where he was, feeling as if his feet couldn't leave the floor as he lets himself drown in your confession. He gulps as he was struck with regret since he had no idea how to respond to you. His eyes trail to the floor as he struggles to find the words.

Then the battle began, between in what he knows whose right for you and his heart who wanted no one else but you.

He was miserable. A side of him wanted to say how much he's waited for you to bid those words to him and claim that he's felt the same as you, but the other side wanted to badly decline knowing he was stuck in choosing you and Akemi. Akemi who has effortlessly tugged on his heart strings and gained it with her gentleness and beautiful personality, and you who's promised to stay forever and loved him longer than anyone else has.

Don't make me choose on who I love more.

He knew the time would come where his decisions would bare another heavy mark on him. He's already made a terrible one by putting his heart in the hands of Akemis instead of yours. He wishes there wasn't a deadline to this difficult decision, but to him it seemed like if he doesn't choose now, he'd feel the pain everyday.

"AKAASHI! LET'S GO!" Bokuto screams as Akaashi turns his eyes to you in a swift move, finding your eyes covered in tears but how come you looked like you felt nothing? You sniffle as you give him a warm smile, a reaction he didn't want to see knowing it wasn't a smile that could bring him joy.

"Goodluck, Akaashi."

He takes a step forward trying to capture you in his arms but Bokuto grabs him by the arm pulling him away from you, Bokuto saying goodbye to you as well and reminding you the promise you gave him. That moment, all that Akaashi wanted to was run and replace the silence he gave you. You deserved to hear what he truly felt, but his words were trapped as he still had to examine if he was choosing the right ones.

But he ran out of time.

-

The game starts and he prays for his performance to be at his usual best. Once Bokuto had the setter to himself, Akaashi couldn't hold back and told him what happened. Bokuto felt horrible for both of you, while feeling revengeful to Akemi since he too fell for her sweet gestures to Akaashi thinking that she actually liked him. Importantly, Bokuto badly wanted to be there for you. He knew how much you liked him so for you to confess so suddenly during your argument, it had the grey haired boy worried about you.

He couldn't blame Akaashi, as much as he wanted to. He acted in a way because he was suffering, but they didn't realize they both were. Though, he wished Akaashi could've treated her better, believed her. Bokuto believed her the minute Akaashi told him, and it was because he trusted her completely and she wouldn't speak out without a reason meanwhile Akaashi chose to hold onto denial.

And as they play, Akaashi looks over to the stands, searching for you when he came upon Akemis. The pretty girl with an arm wrapped around her shoulder as Akaashi loses the ball in his hands from the view.

"Akaashi, please listen to me! I don't want you to get hurt..believe me!"

"You said you t-trusted me, Akaashi! How could that change for you!"

Like the ball falling to the floor, his heart went along with it.

Scream. That's what he wanted to do. How absurd of him to get it wrong twice, there shouldn't even be any room for mistakes. I can't believe I lost her..again. Akaashi thinks. There was a painful ache in his heart, yet he couldn't set it free not wanting to let down the team. Especially in a match like this. He wanted to break, to land on the ground and let his consciousness scold him for hours. He deserved it. He should've learned but he was trapped inside a world where he thought Akemi would've been his everything, when he was blind to how powerful his love for you all this time.

Come back to me.

"Akaashi!" Bokutos hand reach his shoulder and all he could do was stare at a pair of blank eyes. Before the ace could ask what happened, Akaashi was clutching on to Bokutos jersey harshly taking the older boy by surprise.

"She was right." Akaashi utters as he points to the crowd making Bokuto squint just to find where Akemi was. Once he finds them, he sighs sadly before trying to come up with a response to cheer the boy up. It was obvious that Akaashi was too affected to perform properly. Lip quivering as if his world was destroyed twice.

"Doesn't that mean the only thing you can come back to is Y/N?"

Akaashi looks up to him, confused. Bokuto patted the boys shoulder with a soft smile.

"Look over there." This time, it was Bokutos turn to point to the other side of the stands to see you glancing over them. Akaashis eyes glimmered at the sight of you, like life was brought to him in an instant. Happiness couldn't be the only word to describe his emotions.

You were watching.

And he was going to win. Just for you.

This brings him a massive wave of energy, not digging into his thoughts. You smile wiping your heavy eyes seeing him back to his usual self. In his heart he was happy but a mistake shouldn't be rewarded by a smile.

Sticking to his promise, they won but an unfamiliar feeling sets in his skin making him stop in his tracks making Bokuto look behind him to see Akaashi with his hand on top of his chest and eyes straight to the floor. Bokuto grips the phone in his hand, biting his lip and looking down, his heart aching as well.

"Bokuto-san, where is she?" His voice cracks, a tear finally escaping his eyes. He lets out a soft sniffle looking everywhere for a trace of you. Bokuto just shakes his head as a response and Akaashis eyes widen as he harshly wipes away his tears with the sleeve of his jacket. Written in his lips and eyes, Akaashi was exhausted. At first, he thought that letting go of his emotions would be the answer but now he was letting them free yet he didn't wanna scream anymore. He already felt his throat dry at the realization.

"Doesn't that mean the only thing you can come back to is Y/N?"

You sank in your seat, numb to how wet your cheeks were from the continous flow of your tears. Your chest was heaving up and down but your eyes were already closed with tight lips pressed into a line. There were certain things you wish you could've done, but staying wasn't an option when you've gone through multiple battles already. This was the last straw.

Even if you did wanted to fight for him, would he do the same?

You let out a sigh as you open your eyes seeing the road and reminiscing on your last walk with Akaashi.

"What's her name again?" You ask, kicking a rock to the side before shoving your hands inside the pocket of your blazer. Akaashi smiles out of bliss at the thought of her smile and once you've got a glimpse of his expression, you question the drop in your heartbeat as you see him blush before fidgeting with his fingers.

"Akemi." He says, his heart beating loudly. Saying her name already brought the setter in touch with his emotions. It was unlikely for him to feel his heart flutter, but being around Akemi brought him to smile whenever she was there, get anxious to respond to her, and get a flush on his cheeks at the thought of her moments with him.

The name rings in your ears as you were greeted by the silencing beat of your heart. You watch as he turns to you since you've trailed behind him. You visualize how you've seen him with Akemi during lunch and that's when you knew.

It's never going to be me, is it?

"Let's go, Bokuto-san." Bokuto bit his lip, waiting for you to go to them and proving him it was all a prank.

"Akaashi-"

"She left already and I-" His voice breaks making Bokuto gaze at him in pain.

"I'm sorry I couldn't make her stay, Akaashi." Bokuto whispers. Akaashi drags his sleeve to his eyes again, hating how his eyes grew heavy with the tears that escaped his sorrowful blue ones. With a tragic wound embedded in his heart, he spoke.

"I couldn't either."

[cryingoverafictionalcharacter]

Terrible Dancers

Prompt: You are spending the holidays at the burrow with George, Fred, Ginny and the golden trio. The house is packed most of the time, which is fine seeing you love everyone there *cough* especially Fred *cough* but when you get a chance of having some guaranteed alone time, you take it to your advantage. Only realizing you weren't totally alone when Fred comes downstairs to see you dancing around the living room in your pajamas, leading to a dance battle, laughing, and a confession.

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, cute things, that's it I thing?

A/N:Is this probably the lamest, most corny, most bazar fic I’ve ever written? Yes, but this idea came to me when I was listening to ABBA in the car and I couldn’t not write it, So there will be 80s muggle music references in this to give you the full ⭐experience ⭐ . Anyway I hope you all enjoy it! Feel free to leave any fic recs. 

A/N2: I AM IN THE MIDDLE OF WRITING THIS AND OMG PLEASE PLAY THE SONG I’LL WRITE IN WHEN JUST OMG IM CRYING.

You were currently sat on on of the couches in the burrow, your legs kicked up in front of you as you read a book. It was one of the few times you were able to find some quiet in the burrow. You loved the burrow, you thought of it as your second home, but with Arthur, Molly, Fred, George, Harry, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, and yourself all staying for the Holidays, you had to admit it was a bit crowded.

However, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny had least earlier in the day, saying they were running errands, which was probably code for doing something illegal, but you knew they were fine so you took the opportunity to finally catch up on a book Hermione had recommended to you. 

After about an hour of reading, Molly walked in, greeting you with a smile that lit up the room. You smiled back, marking your place in your book and putting it down beside you.

“Hello dear, the boys and I were going to head off and do some last minute holiday shopping, would you like to join us?” She asked.

“I’ve gotten all my shopping done, so I think I’ll just stay in today if that alright?” You asked.

“Of course! Though you will be here alone, you know where everything is if you need something?” Molly asked, concern in her voice. You nodded.

“Yes, thank you” You smiled.

“Alright, we’ll be back by sundown, try to enjoy the peace and quiet” Molly joked, making you laugh.

“I will, have fun!” You said, watching as Molly left the room headed towards the fireplace, before opening your book again to continue reading.

It couldn’t have been more than a few minutes before you started feeling antsy. The house was quiet. Too quiet. The burrow was known for always being active and full of laughing, happy people, so now that the only sound in the whole house was the steady ticking of the clock, you had to admit, it was a little freaky being the only one here.

You quickly closed your book, and idea popping into your head. You decided to bring your Walkman when you left to go to the burrow just in case you ever needed to block out the noise. You hadn’t used it at all so far, and now seemed like the perfect time.

You ran upstairs into the room you were sharing with Ginny and Hermione, digging through your bag and pulling out the rectangular object. Your parents had made you a mixtape of your favorite songs before you left, and while you loved some popular wizard singers, you missed your music.

You ran back downstairs, putting the Walkman down and pressing play, the music instantly starting up, playing one of your favorite songs.

A Man After Midnight, by ABBA

You walked to the empty area in front of the couch and started to dance, swaying your hips a bit, before starting to sing the words.

“Half past twelve and I’m watching the late show in my flat all alone, how I hate to spend the evening on my own.”

As you were singing you started swaying around the room, grabbing your wand to use as a microphone, and continuing to get more and more energetic as the song went on. 

“Is there a soul out there?”

You stopped moving just tapping your foot, slowly raising the hand that wasn’t holding the wand.

“Someone to hear my prayers........”

“Gimme Gimme Gimme a man after midnight!” You sang at the top of your lungs, jumping around the room and singing into your wand. You were so lost in the moment, you didn’t notice the figure walking down the stairs, until-

“Take me through the darkness through the break of the- JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!” Your singing was cut off by the sound of you screaming, well cursing, as you turned around to see Fred staring at you with a confused, half asleep look, a grin spread across his face. “What the fuck are you doing?” You practically yelled, running over to switch off your radio.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Fred laughed, the slight smile he had before now turning into a shit eating grin.

“You know, just.... dancing’” You said, desperately trying to act casual, like your crush of two years didn’t just walk downstairs, shirtless by the way, to see you dancing around like a maniac”

“I can see that. Its awful” Fred joked, making his way down the rest of the stairs and walking over to you.

“Shut up I’m amazing. Wait I thought you and your family were going out shopping” You said, suddenly remembering you were supposed to be alone.

“Yeah, George tried to make me to come along, but I didn’t wake up so my mum left a note” He said, sitting on the couch in front of you.

You nodded in understanding, trying your best to look Fred in the face, instead of letting your eyes wander to his hair which was currently sticking out in all directions. Or toward his chest which was currently bare exposing a constellation of freckles, or at how low his sweatpants were hanging-

“Earth to Y/N” Fred said, waving a hand in front of your face, snapping you out of your thought.

“Oh yeah, nice, cool” You said nodding, rocking back on your heels.

“What were you listening to, it doesn’t sound familiar?” Fred asked, leaning back on the couch.

“Oh, it’s a muggle band called ABBA, they’re basically music goddesses” You joked, walking over to your Walkman picking it up and handing it him.

“That's a lot of praise, considering your horrible taste in wizard music” He said, making you playfully swat his arm, a fake offended expression crossing your face before smiling, pressing the play button and continuing the song.

“Huh, its actually not bad, what else do you have on this?” He asked smiling.

You smiled back, taking back the Walkman and skipping to the next song, which happened to be “Africa” by Toto.

“This one’s really popular, I think you’ll like it” You said, setting down the Walkman and going to sit next to him.

As the music started I could see Fred starting to bob his Head to the beat.

“I like it so far” Fred said

An hour later, and you and Fred were dancing around the living room, singing at the top of your lungs.

“So you think you can stop me and spit in my eye!” Fred yelled

“So you think you can love me and leave me to die!” You sang back

“Ooooooh baby, don’t do this to me baby, just gotta get out, just gotta get right out of here” You both sang in unison, Fred playing an air guitar as you sang into your wand.

As the slow started to slow down, you both just started swaying, smiling at each other and catching your breath. Finally after a moment the song ended, making you both laugh.

“That ones my favorite so far” Fred said laughing, going to take a break and sit on the couch, you plopping next to him.

“Its a classic” You laughed, taking a deep breath, trying to cool down from the very intense dancing. 

The next song started up and you instantly recognized it, practically lunging at the small radio to skip the song, but as soon as you hit the pause button, Fred snatched it out of your hands.

“Hey” You yelled, reaching to get the device back which Fred held over his head, making it hard to reach.

“What’s wrong with the next song?” Fred asked, making your face heat up a bit.

“It’s not really dancing music, my parents probably only added it on because they know it’s one of my favorites, but yeah it’s not that good we can skip it” You said quickly, attempting to get the radio back from Fred, but he still kept it over his head.

“Y/N, if you like it than I’m sure its great” Fred said smiling down at you. You let out a breath. You knew he wasn’t going to let it go until you played it.

“Fine” You said, Fred finally handing the radio back. You rewound the song so it would start from the beginning, before taking a breath, and pressing play.

*PLAY CAN’T HELPING FALLING IN LOVE BY ELVIS*

The music picked up, and with it your heartbeat, afraid of what Fred was going to say. You were internally panicking, playing one of the most iconic love songs ever written in front of your long time friend and crush.

You had been friends with this boy since first year. You might even go as far to call him your best friend. Sure there had been flirty moments but most of it was just kidding around, but this was different.

Before you could panic anymore though, Fred had stood up and turned to face you. A sly smile grew across his face before he held out his hand to you.

“Dance with me” 

“...What?” you asked, eyes widening. Were you hearing this right?

“Dance with me” Fred repeated. So without thinking you took his hand and stood up.

He led you to the middle of the living room, moving to put your right hand on his shoulder, holding your left and resting his other hand on your waist, making your breath hitch in your throat.

“Trying to make a move on me Weasley?” You joked, trying to ease the tension.

“Maybe” He said smiling, but it wasn’t his usual joking smile, it was more sincere.

You started to sway to the music, laughing as Fred twirled you, your hand moving back to its original place on Fred's shoulder.

As the music continued to play, you couldn’t help but listen to the lyrics, while looking up at the boy you were dancing with, finding he was already looking at you.

“Like a river flows, surely to the sea, darling so it goes, some things are meant to be”

Fred suddenly wrapped his arm around your back, moving to dip you backwards, startling a laugh out of you, before he pulled you back up, pulling your chest closer to his, barely leaving any room between you to.

“For I can’t help, falling in love with you”

You moved your hand out of his, instead moving to rest your arms around Fred’s neck, Fred moving his now free hand to your other hip.

“Who taught you how to dance?” You jokingly asked, once again trying to relive the tension that had grown between you too.

“Would you believe me if I said I’m just a natural?” Fred smiled

“Definitely not” You smiled back, making a light chuckle leave his lips.

“Take my hand, take my whole life too, for I can’t help, falling in love with you”

“I think this might be my new favorite song” Fred said, making you roll your eyes but you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face.

“Why’s that” You asked, noticing how Fred’s demeanor seemed to get more serious compared to his usual playful attitude.

“Because it’s your favorite song, and you’re my favorite person” Fred said.

The butterflies that were in fluttering in your stomach before were now in a frenzy, your heart beating like crazy. You continued to sway to the music, slowing as the song finally stopped. Fred moved a hand up to move a strand of hair out of your face, before closing the space between you, connecting your lips.

You pulled him closer as well, kissing him back and moving your hands to his hair while his moved back to your waist. After a moment your finally pulled away, looking into each others eyes.

“You’re my favorite person too” You said, making the both of you smile.

“Is that the end of the tape?” Fred asked, noticing that the music wasn’t continuing.

“Yep, but I have another one one second” You said, moving out of Fred’s grasp to sprint up the stairs, Fred laughing behind you.

You came back downstairs, a new tape in ahnd. You quickly switched out the tack and pressed play, waiting for the music to start.

“Who did you say was your favorite person again?” Fred asked as you walked back over to him, laughing as you wrapped your arms around him. He moved to take a step back and stumbled, tripping over the book you had put down earlier, and because you were already holding him, you fell as well.

“Shit! Are you ok?” You asked, landing on Fred’s chest, looking up at his face to see him laughing, sending you into a fit of laughter as well, before you were both cut off by the sound of the Walkman playing that oh so familiar Saxophone.

You would have appreciated the irony, but before you could you heard the front door open, looking over to see Ron, Hermione, and Harry all looking at you... laying on top of a shirtless Fred..... with careless whisper playing in the background.

“It’s not what it looks like!” you said, quickly sitting up, Fred helping you to stand so you could turn off the music.

“My eyes!” Ron shrieked

“She fell we weren’t!-” Fred started.

“We don’t want to hear it pervs” Harry said, a slightly joking tone in his voice.

“For shame” Hermione said shaking her head disappointedly, but as the two other boys left towards their room, she gave you a quick thumbs up before running off as well.

You listened in silence as the three ran up the stairs, the door slamming behind them. There were a few seconds of silence between you and Fred, neither of you knowing how to process what just happened.

“You know, we could do what it looked like” Fred said slyly.

“Fred!”

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

A/N: I’m not going to lie, I think the ending is hilarious. Any who, I hope you enjoyed this super sappy, almost cringe worthy fic. Feel free to leave requests if you want. 

[fallout-drabbles-n-stuff]

Idk whats with me and angst but male (or if you want gender neutral) sole dying in romanced compainions + skinny malone arms?

(There are quite a few characters I didn't do..so anyone can request those individual and I'll see about writing them at a later date..just..wow. Ummm..major trigger warnings btw)

It was inevitable..wasn't it? Deep down, this truth was just one of those that was inescapable. The fearsome Sole Survivor was many things; they were determined, they were skilled, they were adaptable..they were amazing in every way- a paragon of a person..however there is one thing they were not.

Indestructible.

No one was. Shit, the Wasteland loved to remind people of that- be it in the forms of ghouls, hellish monsters or whatever- so perhaps this day shouldn't have came as such a surprise. Nevertheless, there was no comfort found within this knowledge.

The day was too pretty of one for something like this to happen. The sunshine was bright, not a cloud in the sky- a gentle breeze passing the pair by as they scavenged the archaic ruins for copper of all things- fucking copper.

Raiders were common in these kinds of areas, but that was no issue. Sole had no issue handling raiders, or anything else for that matter. Well, or so they thought.

Soon the peacefulness of that lovely day was interrupted by the whizzing of bullets and the shouts of obscenities as a small band of raiders made their presence known- effectively ambushing the pair. It was sort of funny in a fucked up way. The fight itself lasted barely ten minutes, just a blue of adrenaline and silent prayers, and the warmth of that beautiful sunshine beating on their back.

They hadn't noticed the blue of that infamous jump suit staining red until it was far too late, not until the wearer collapsed down to their knees as though they were about to beg for the life slowly fading either such rivet of blood being spilled.

Now it was even quicker.

Of course, they rushed to their precious Sole Survivor, horrified, yet still hopeful. They'd try so hard to lift them up, dread filling their veins whenever their loved one cried out in pain from the movement. However they still thought that somehow their dear would make it. Maybe it was foolish naivety.

Then there it was, a certain look within the Sole Survivor's eyes that held a promise. This was it. This was it and all they could do was watch as they died, the lovely sunlight and peaceful breeze serving as the only witness to this atrocity.

This wasn't right. Why did the world not reflect the way this scene was playing out? This was no time for sunshine and happiness, not when the only person they've loved so profoundly could only give them a watery smile..not as they slowly lost the strength to hold their hand to their cheek...

Not as the light finally dimmed and the world as they knew it was consumed by the darkness their former light now took away.

~~~~~~

Cait:

"Son of a bitch..sweetheart, you can't just..you can't just leave me like this- it's..it's not right! You come back, fuck! Please! Come come back.."

•Cait wasn't one to cry, always being more predispositions for rage than tears...however despite how hard she tried all she could do was wail until all that came out was dry tears and hoarse yells.

•After this, Cait would isolate herself from others save for sparking up terrjbke brawls where she knew she was outmatched.

•She just hoped she would finally lose the fight.

Curie:

"Please hang on, I-I can fix you! Please, mon amour, don't leave Curie just yet!"

•She's completely in shock, frantically trying to administer Med-x, Stimpacks, Jet- anything! All it does is worsen your condition unfortunately, the chems overwhelming you and eating at what remained of your life that much faster.

•A piece of her knew this, deep down at least.

•Let's just say, Curie wouldn't quite be the same after this. Not just in the "I lost someone I loved kind of way", no, more in the "I've seen far too much and can't quite cope" kind of way. Her eyes would forever be scarred with the image of your own becoming red from the busted blood vessels and your horrified, sweet face.

Danse:

"I'm truly sorry..damn it..I'm sorry I couldn't protect you either."

•In Danse's mind, you were yet another person he cared for that got killed because of his negligence. Only your death was much more profound- yes. With the death of his other brothers and sisters, he could still soldier through..but with you? The person he could only regard with love? He might've as well died with you.

•The only thing Danse can think of to do to hopefully bring you peace is bury you right outside your little home himself, hysterically crying and drunk out of his mind.

•It wouldn't be very long after this that Danse could no longer handle the pain of loss- no amount of liquor taking the vision of your smiling face at your once shared bedside from his mind.

•At least your friends would have the decency to bury him at your side after they got over the shock of finding him.

Hancock:

"Hey sunshine..don't worry, we..we won't be apart for too long. Heh, it's gonna be okay..it's all gonna be alright."

•The small window of time it takes for your life to leave you, Hancock comes to the horrific realization that he was soon to be doomed to a tragically long life without the one person at his side that made him feel worthy of living..

•Without giving it much more thought than that, he'd just simply stroke your cheek- pressing a soft kiss to your head whenever he was certain you had bled out completely, your blood throughly coating his chest and thighs. After the kiss, he'd take a deep breath before drawing his own pistol and..bang.

Maxson:

"P..please..don't leave..no,no,..please don't leave me.."

•If Sarah's death hurt Arthur, your's was devastating.

•Even after he knew full well that you were dead and gone, he still tries his best to keep you "alive". He'd rush you into a vertibird and call for you aid, having to face the fact you were truly gone when Captain Cade clasped him over the shoulder and gave him a solemn look.

•Arthur cried then, and then later into the night until all that came out were pathetic sobs.

•The only thing that keeps him going is his obligation to duty..but..sometimes he considers leaning just a little too close to the gage of the forecastle..maybe fly like some sort of mythical being before finally being able to hold you once more.

Skinny Malone:

"Oh come on doll face, it's..it's gonna between alright. Shhh, I'm right here..just..god..just relax."

•How did this even happen? He knew better than to indulge your need to scavenge..there wasn't even any need with his connections..why..why did this happen?

•He'd try so hard to keep it together, clenching the fabric of your vault suit until eventually his men come to him..then he can't contain the terrible cries that result.

X6-88:

"(Y/n), don't. You..you can't..oh..I..I don't know what to do without you.."

•As someone who knew death so well, he knew from the second you fell, the way that you fell, you were dead.

•Just for you, he'd try to keep that cold exterior he was once so good at portraying..but it lasts a mere second before tears start rolling down his face and spilling onto your's.

•He'd sit there, cradling your cooling body well into the setting of the gloriously shining sun, wondering just what he was going to do from here.

•Nothing. He no longer knew what to do