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alphaketoglutaricacid · 7 months ago

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shuro notes

upon rereading some of dungeon meshi, I got a better grasp on his role in the story and why hes in the main supporting cast along w kabru (main protag of the suporting cast), namari, and mithrun (main antag of the supp cast) . Contrary to most of the characters disliking eating monsters, he seems to dislike eating, period. In his first appearance he refuses to eat maizurus cooking (with maybe some mermaid eggs sprinkled in..?). His refusal to eat ties into his extreme passivity. He seems to dislike how his father does what he pleases with no regard to how it affects others, and his fear of doing the same seems to play a huge role in how he lets other ppl walk all over him. He ignores his own desires, including his own hunger, because consuming means taking another life. To live means something else has to die, so to desire is to want to take from others. To try to live up to the image of an impassive leader he tries to not participate in this process at all! But bc hes a human being he has to eat, so instead of never taking from others, he starves.

With Falin, I think he realizes there is a way forward where he could be himself and face the ugly realities of what it means to want. To be unabashedly yourself while not hurting everyone in your life. His love comes from a deep place of admiration! I think part of the reason why he's so dead set on saving her is bc he wants to be her equal—she saved him from his nightmares without a second thought, and part of it is to repay her kindness and to be able to reciprocate it. I think he foils nicely w marcille bc he proposes to her (asks her to choose her future) while marcille doesnt want her to move on from the time they were both children. I think this plays a huge part in why marcille hates him, bc its a reminder of how the time will pass and also he aims to take falin away from her. Interestingly, she also became fairly distant and withdrawn after falin left and they both formed their relationship w her bc dirt and bugs r cool. They both are the party members in Laios squad that fly off the handle the most. Socioeconomically, they both seem to be in the least dire straits and kinda prissy abt things as a result. On re-read something else clicked into place.

After his fight w laios that starts w legit grievances and devolves into him hitting all of laios’ insecurities like a game of whack-a-mole, shuro says he’s returning to his home country and after that he would never see any of these ppl again. Even before falin got eaten, he knew he was going to have to leave the party but couldnt bring himself to tell them. The way the convo goes, it seems part of the reason why he proposed to her so suddenly is bc he wants to take a part of his time on the island back home with him—i.e. that hes not ready to say goodbye. That the prospect was taken from him so suddenly is why this is the first thing hes asked for or wanted for himself. Interesting parallels to how marcille is not ready to live the rest of her 1000 year life without her friends now, and how falins death is a catalyst that brings her fear to the surface—that for both of them, theyll live the rest of their lives never seeing the ppl they love from this island again. I think part of the reason he is so nasty to laios in particular is bc his entire worldview falls apart at laios' actions

Both desire wise and literally, Shuro is starving. And like a starving person getting his first meal in a long time, I think he gets a little greedy—when he gives Laios the bell, he says if the party somehow makes it past thistle, to ring it so they can all escape to the East--where he's headed. Likewise marcilles solution is to bring everyone with her to the 1000 year lifespan. Thats surprisingly childish of both of them! Also not a solution to the problem that suits anyone but themselves. Theres so many solutions to this. He could write. He could call. He could communicate view morse code using that bell instead of attempting to blink in morse code to communicate to laios how he doesnt want to be here. Falin voice: I’ll go visit you, okay? He could set foot on the island again. Honestly. This is so embarrassing for him.

But I think it gets at a core theme of the work. Marcille, Laios, and Shuro all say their greatest desire is to save Falin, but once u get down to it, theyre pretty basic-to not be left alone, to be w monsters who u feel a kinship with, to not have to leave. Namari says she left bc of money but later on goes u must never let go of your fear. Kabru says he wants to get to know laios to prevent utaya from happening again but its much simpler-he wants to be his friend. Our base desires are petty, but they are what keep us going day to day, just like how every living being has to hunger and eat to achieve the goals they set out for.

Lets talk abt his relationship w his retainers.

Hein- theyre childhood friends that have drifted apart in adulthood. By the familiar way she talks about him when hes not around, I think she wants to be close to him again. I think the distance between them is probably intentionally imposed by Shuro bc hes afraid theyll turn out like maizuru and his father. She thinks hes unreliable in a way i think u can only rlly get when u know someone for that long. I wonder if some of that I thought wed always end up together and I want him to like me even tho I dont like him back is wanting that closeness in friendship again

Maizuru- Good god whats happening here. she loves him but also treats him like a child even tho hes a 26 year old man. I think its got fun connections to how kabrus adoptive mom treats him like a child, how marcilles not ready to see falin n herself as adults, thistles relationship w degal. Now these are all relationships where differences in lifespan come into play, but w maizuru n shuro i think u see something real banal in why these elves cant let the ppl in their lives go. She coddles him bc she loves him and tells him at the end he doesn't have to eat the dragon if he doesn't want to, but he rebukes her and says he has to eat it to accept his own failures. So like he doesn't need to be coddled he needs ppl in his life to challenge him so he can grow. And at the end he realizes it tastes good--that even tho his journey had so much conflict and in the end he failed to save falin he made friends! He grew as a person! He starts reaching out to his retainers again! He got to harrass the elf cops and give them migraines! Ties a lot into laios speech to marcille that if falin didnt die they wouldn't have met all these ppl and gotten to eat all this food.

Its wild she put that hag curse on him. Poor kid cant even take a shit in peace. Actually the fact that he couldnt even have that time for himself n grew up constantly feeling watched explains a lot. I think the fact his father nonchalently burnt it and then roasted mochi over it without giving him any explaination made him think oh this is just what everyone goes through and im the weird one for being frightened. And it takes him 20 years to find out that no, its not normal to be haunted by a ghost that chases you with a knife. Pretty apt metaphor for how rules have defined his life without him fully understanding why they're in place. I'll give it a crack tho--it seems like the time period his homelands based on the sengoku period bc its a period of heavy civil war where ppl below upsurped the ppl above them. The strict hierarchy is probably an attempt to exercise social control in an extremely precarious situation.

Also side note: kinda impressive he can do magic when he was six. Probs a combination of maizuru being a talented teacher and his own skill. The fire cast… close but no cigar. Also interesting is how the magic he casts seems more elf-y in nature vs maizurus gnomic spirit magic. I wonder if hes his partys black mage- the occupation his party is pointedly missing vs the toudens missing their white mage and kabrus party being well rounded at all points. If so thats hilarious that when the toudens lost their previous mage and everyone was panicking he was like well… im just not gonna say anything #OnBrand. I do wonder if the bell he gives laios is his own magic tho.

Also shuros mother is mad at maizuru for being shuros dads mistress but gives her her children to raise…. Lets unpack this contradiction. Incidentally my tin foil hat theory is Shuros a bastard child. maizuru n his dad have been fucking since 4ever -> one of these children is not legitiment -> probs the one w a strange distance from the rest -> whys shuro succeeding his dad so up in the air when his competitions a 14 and an 8 year old. It's not important tho.

izutsumi + inutade: the fact that he doesnt speak up is his defining moment of moral cowardice. Its tied to his passivity! Hes scared of saying or doing the wrong thing bc hes afraid of hurting others, and he does basically attempt to torch his relationship w laios like it was contaminated w anthrax. Like the first time he tries to be active it went horribly, but his involvement moves the plot forward enormously—with him kabru would not have run into Laios, izutsumi would probably not have been able to run away, he raises the stakes of the journey by indicating they probs cant return to the surface so they have to keep going. And even tho its messy, ugly, and embarassing, he can still pick up the pieces afterwards. Nothing he does is as harmful as his passivity on inutade and izutsumis situations which unequivically, he knows is wrong.

Also w all the references to buying people, I looked it up bc i was like.... like slavery...? it seems to be a reference to retainership as a social caste where people buy your services and as a result you owe the estate your service. You get paid and you have rights, but it seems like you are bound to your station, but depending on the time period japan is supposed to reference, some ppl took on these positions for the sake of social advancement. Regardless, it seems the caste system is also less rigid than stated and ppl can move amongst the positions. There doesn't seem to be an exact cultural equivelent to this, but I think the closest concept is like, being a vassal. I was like if this is slavery this narrative portrays izutsumis time w the nakamotos too ambivenlently and hien going don't you feel any gratefulness for them taking you in makes no sense. But I still think theres something pretty rotten going on here.

Allegedly, as a ninja, you ascend the ranks based on your skill. And yet izutsumi and inutade are at the bottom, and hien, the person that was born into this role, is at the top! Izutsumi and Inutade aren't even considered human in the island of wa--this distinction is given to tall-men only. Theyre both from positions where I feel like the other characters are like they should be grateful they got from one horrible situation to this one thats a system based on merit and skill, but like out of everyone, theyre in the least position of power to say no, to even appreciate what other options there are for them in the world. Like its deeply coercive and wrong. Whats up w shuros father collecting ppl like theyre trophies man. So we can see a system allegedy based on merit is not one at all. Also I feel theres undertones of japanese imperialism with izutsumi being from the equivelent of central asia and having a soul of a child stuffed into her like some kinda of science experiment. Maizurus constantly trying to "civilize" her by teaching her ettiquite such as using your chopsticks. Like the rhetoric of the elves ape pretty directly to imperialistic sentiments, it would not surprise me if theres intentional commentary about japanese imperialism in how izutsumis treated bc japans kinda known in the east for their imperialism... theyve just done it so many times like my parents were like we left our families, our culture, everything we knew behind to go to america.... but we kept our death grudge against japan tho!! #lmfao. Honestly fair. anyways i think theres intentional parallels between how izutsumi is treated as both as a child and a feral animal by maizuru and how the elves treate other races as children that need toys taken away from them. But also how fundementaly, maizurus unsuited to take care of izutsumi bc the tools she has are not suited to izutsumis needs! She has no understanding of izutsumis life. Her hag curse turns from a highly questionable child rearing tactic on shuro to outright a slave collar on izutsumi. Teaching shuro ettiquate and being able to fight gives him the tools to survive in the postion he was born in but is erasing the culture izutsumi grew up in and has been taken away from before she even knew what it meant. Bc she was treated like a circus freak she never got to choose for herself! Tho providing the basic comforts to shuro is a privilage, it's not to izutsumi bc shes never been able to choose what she wants in life. It's why shes set up as shuros narrative foil like so:

This is his pensive look btw its a consistant tic that he lookes like hes glaring when hes deep in thought. Maizurus is both these people's strange mother figure who feeds them in liu of their actual mother. She smothers shuro in love and doesn't let him face actual challenges in life while she intensely disciplines izutsumi. Shuro reacts to this by aquiessing and never making demands of his own while izutsumi constantly refuses to conform. This is probably why he doens't get her.

In the early points of the story, shuro either says leave izutsumi for dead or leave her so she can pursue her freedom. The ambiguity is intentional, because i think in this part of the story we are not supposed to have a good read on him. But it's also because because of his passivity he doesn't do shit for her! So he loses out on having any type of relationship w her even tho they were tormented by the same curse. But crucially he may have learned from this w inutade, who he explicitly aknowledges how her situation is fucked up and her worship of his father is due to an insane power imbalance even tho he has no clue how to talk to her about this. And at the very end of the manga, he gets into an eating contest with her at her prodding as equals. So maybe there's hope he can do better. But I think its important that his relationship w izutsumi is non-existent as a consequence of his passivity despite the things they have in common bc theres no excuse for it. Thier relationship probs deserves its own post.

benichidori - very funny amongst all these complicated relationships these two just straight up dont know each other n r too shy to do so. Is what I was going to say but then I realized benichidori has taken shuros place as hiens closet friend and I wonder if theres any jealousy abt that. But also she shares a lot of traits w shuro and isnt that just interesting:

but even more interesting is her comic:

this is beat for beat shuros conflict w laios.

We only care about one thing: the crushing opinion of everyone in the universe.

I didnt get this on my first read even tho laios was like hes smart but he is incredibly sharp. Hes good at making useful deductions when things dont add up. It rlly reminds u hes trained in espionage.

He keeps kabru on his toes! interesting for such a smooth talker.

He gets kabru to open up about his motivations here and how it affected him and kabru actually shares some of his own feelings on the manner when usually hes holding ppl at arms length. I think him getting a chance to recite this helps prep him to talk to the caneries where notably, hes a lot more clinical about it.

Its nice all three of these ppl can challenge each other and support each other. I think it would be funny if kabru hits em up in the future like do u wanna start some shit for old times sake

able to tell chilchuck was not a child

is afraid of marcille which tbh fantastic call

Everyone else horrified marcille just killed a man but he's like yeah #tracks.

Other things that reminded me hes basically a fixer:

Spends his screentime evading the elf cops.

Refuses to talk to the canaries even under threat of being interegated for 50 years despite threatening laios party multiple times that hes gonna tell on them. instead spends his time going tbh i've never known anything in my life. I'm stupid like that :pensive emoji:

Incredible bit of manipulation on his part-he pretends to be thinking out loud to cast doubt on the canaries judgement to appeal to the ppl in the dungeon that are not motivated by the goodness of their hearts. Reminds me of namaris relatively selfish reasons for leaving the party--needing to get paid, which is a need she was ignoring for far too long and also laios was also not paying proper attn too when namaris in dire straits, and how she says she left the party after the dragon bc she remembered to never forget your fear. That selfishness must also drive you forward. Then he uses that doubt to twist the situation to say all their information could be false so maaaybe the situation is not as dire as they claim and they have other motives (social control). And he pretends hes talking to the caneries but this is directed to everyone else. He and namari pretend to pick a fight so the leader's distracted and everyone else uses this opening to scatter, which causes enough chaos that it breaks the control the elves have. Which is wild bc shuro knows the dungeon is dangerous bc kabru told him about utaya. He also knows laios party can be dangerous w the amount of collateral they cause w the dragon. He puts a lot of ppl in danger that do not need to be even though multiple times he worries about people getting hurt. At his core, tho, I think he wants to see laios and his party again and that selfish desire trumps everything else in this moment. Namari and shuro are so ride or die TBH.

He never shares any of this when not prompted. Except notably at the end he interrupts when ppl think laios might be dead. Which as an aside I think its interesting his biggest contribution to saving falin is not thru his fighting prowess, but through the simple fact he reached out to laios. His compassions his greatest strength. Laios frestrautes him and kabru, and they both punch him and complain that theyll never understand him, but I think they dont have to. Love requires compromise—it requires eating things you really dont want to, you clash and you hurt each other, but what matters most is that you keep reaching out to one another, that you keep on trying to understand each other. Living requires you to hurt and be hurt, to give and take.

Once again stuck in the middle of an insane and ancient beef

low key funny that he remembered the last time he was here and he was like u know what.... ill just sit this one out....

If my son told me he spent the last week pissing off the elf cops, Id be like yeah thats what the nakamotos are all about TBH

Theres pretty juicy stuff abt how laios is interested in shuro because hes exotic like a monster and his own relationship with being othered by ppl and the fact that shuro is constantly referred to as a foreighner even to ppl hes known and has risked his life for for two years + how to laios monsterhood is a type of freedom while being othered is a type of dehumanization for shuro + how hes trying to show some kind of solidarity to shuro but hes microagressing him thru his attemps + how laios just is being explicitly saying the racist beliefs everyone else implicitly holds just like how mithrun says other races are inferior races which horrifies the rest of the elves but its honestly what they believe but I'm tired and need to think abt it a bit more.

Why do shuro and his party from an island primarily composed of humans and other ppl sometimes not classified as humans but have similair lifespan bc of sociopolitical reasons imitate so many interracial dynamics despite being of the same race? It's to show how marcilles wrong about how the inequality between races exists bc of lifespan differences. Her own fears due to fantastical reasons of being a half-elf and unable to relate any of her insecurities to other ppl are not exclusive to her! Tall-men - Tall-men relationships run along the same lines and have the same conflicts. All the things she fears are things that make her human, that other people have also felt.

in conclusion:

think abt the messiest person u know. Its a man

jk its marcille #feminism

#Dungeon meshi spoilers #shuro #toshiro nakamoto

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dunmeshi-darlings · 8 months ago

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Little idea I had..

During the dungeon journey the happened across a random wild spell that turns everyone into a hybrid

All except for izutsumi and the reader (cuz they a kobold)

Thinking how the party reacts to the everyday things the reader goes through

Oh this is a delightfully hilarious idea,i approve of it. Perhaps it was a trap laid in the dungeon by thistle or perhaps another adventurer did it, either way the outcomes are funny.

Laios - You have never seen laios so genuinely excited, He cheered and laughed happily at this new transformation. This is everything he could have ever dreamed of. His transformation made him a dog hybrid so he was perhaps the most similar to You as a kobold. You teach him about properly brushing your fur and how to sit with a tail. Though over all laios couldnt be happier, he finally gets to be more than just a tall man and can be a cool hybrid.

Marcille - She was transformed into a Rabbit hybrid, Her long elf ears now even longer floppy rabbit ears. She was far from excited to say the least, Frantically trying to find a spell that could possible fix this, Though she did have to admit the magic was impressively strong. Her bunny legs were a challenge for her to get used to, she could use them for walking sure but they were more suited for hopping. Her tail wasnt as large so she didnt have as many issue sitting as laios did at first. But you still helped teach her how to handle her instincts and not run away at the slightest of loud noises.

Chilchuck - While you had expected him to become some sort of mouse or rat hybrid, however when it turned out he had become a Racoon hybrid was fitting all things considered. The dark fur pattern around his eyes giving him almost a thieves mask, which you couldnt help but chuckle at how ironic it was. you also taught chilchuck about sitting with a tail now but other than that his transformation went the easiest out of anyones. You did happen to note that chilchuck became incredibly prone to washing his hands before and after eating, an instinct that wasnt actually the worst one to follow.

Senshi - At first you were all confused on what senshi had transformed into. The fur was smooth almost velvety, and his hands had grown slightly bigger, and you noticed the mustache portion of his beard had grown. Eventually Laios realized that senshi must have become a mole hybrid which upon reflection made sense. Truthfully not much about senshi had changed, However he had noted that he now had an insatiable craving for things like Treasure bugs, mimics, and living armor again. This you werent sure if you would attribute it to his new mole hybrid existence or just how he is normally. Either way you helped him get used to his fur/hair which was incredibly soft.

#dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi x reader #laios #chilchuck #marcile #senshi #laios touden #marcille donato #chilchuck tims #senshi of izganda

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bgbu · 3 months ago

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Catching the BG3 Companions Reading The Quarta Sune - Halsin Edition

content warnings: 18+, piv, unprotected sex, very large elf anatomy!!

pairing: f!reader x Halsin

word count: 1900

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Coming back from a long day of adventuring, you reach camp as the haziness of dusk begins to settle in. After a quick meal, you pop into your tent to swap out your armor for a relaxed tunic, before heading for the water to bathe off the grit of the day and relax your muscles in the warm spring, not too far off from your campsite. The sweet, grassy notes of the clover and thistle mingle with the powdery fragrance of the lilies that grew around the perimeter of the hot spring. As you approach you see the massive druid on the side of the pool; the golden skin of his bare chest is radiant in the evening glow, his breeches rolled up to his knees so his legs rest in the aqua blue water. You’re surprised he doesn’t notice your approach as he normally would, but he seems rather engrossed with the book in his hands. Eager to take advantage of the opportunity, you quietly circle the clearing before crouching and sneaking quietly over to where Halsin is reading.

“BOO!”

“Gahhh!” the druid jumps to his feet in surprise, but in his haste, he fumbles the book so it is falling towards the water. You quickly reach out to save it, already feeling a little guilty for how much you startled the handsome elf before you. Before you can apologize, you look down at the book in your outstretched hand to see a rather…informative diagram of a position titled the “Bugbear Bend” on the left page, with an herbal tea recipe for sore throats on the right. Halsin immediately blushes, crimson flooding his cheeks so hard it even makes his temples and nose rosy.

“I was…ummm. I can explain!”

“I’m sorry honey I didn’t mean to startle you, and I certainly didn’t mean to pry into your reading either! Although, it does look rather intriguing…” You trail off to give him space to address the subject, as his mouth is slightly agape with thought.

“Well, I was recently admiring your leadership and the many incredible feats you have already accomplished in the admittedly brief amount of time I have been by your side. I am consistently overwhelmed by my admiration of you, and I began to wonder…” You blush at his complements and nod your head while staring into his brilliant hazel eyes, urging him to continue.

“I have begun to worry that I am not intriguing enough for someone of such a high caliber. Why, a simple druid of the Emerald Grove must be so dull…” he trails off again, looking off to the side trying to hide the water threatening to fill his eyes. Your mouth hangs open in shock; you couldn’t imagine someone more incredible than Halsin. Guilt pangs in your chest as you begin to think of 100 times where you wish you would’ve been more open with your admiration for the druid before you.

“Halsin my love, I had no idea you thought that.” You reach out for his hand with both of yours, tugging him close to your side as you rest your head against his arm and look down into the water at the reflection of the two of you.

“I think you are the most fascinating person I have ever known.” He scoffs politely, clearly unable to believe your words.

“I mean it! You have many incredible feats of your own. Plus, you can shapeshift into a bear! You have to know that’s incredible!” His deep, throaty laughter echoes throughout the clearing, the slightest tinge of belief shines from his eyes as they squint in laughter. You smile warmly at him and hold his hand for stability as you lean back to sit down on the edge of the shore before tugging on his arm, so he follows suit. You rest your head on his shoulder momentarily before turning to face him.

“Can I ask you a question darling?”

“Certainly.” His bright eyes and warm smile await your query.

“May I ask, what exactly your reading choice has to do with all this?” You bite your lip, hoping to hide the cheeky curiosity in your mind. However, his small smirk tells you that perhaps it wasn’t as well-disguised as you had thought it was.

“It has been a popular text in Faerun for some time; it is a book that gives much detail of exercises and philosophies in sensual alignment. I thought perhaps it could help me keep you intrigued.” He blushes honestly as he leans into you so that you can feel the heat radiating from his large frame. Without a second thought you lunge at him, knocking him onto his back as you nibble his lower lip before sliding your tongue into his mouth as one of his arms wraps around your waist while the other squeezes your bum. The druid lets out a deep, primal growl as he realizes you are not wearing underclothes and he continues to toy with your bare ass. You sit upright, grinding down on the massive bulge in his pants as you yank your tunic over your head and toss it away from you before leaning back down to lock into another sloppy kiss.

Halsin grunts and pants as you slowly drag your kisses along the side of his mouth, around his jaw and down his neck as you begin to lower your body by backing in towards the water. You leave a trail of kisses and small bites down his chest and stomach, stopping at the waistband of his pants before sitting back up. You bat your eyelashes and he nearly rips his trousers as he hastily shoves them down past his hips, so his enormous cock pops up, the head already wet with arousal. You moan at the sight of it, and crouch back into the water as you pull his trousers the rest of the way off before throwing them off towards the woods.

“My love-,“ Halsin groans but you quickly put your hands on the inside of his thighs to stabilize yourself before trailing wet kisses from your hand inwards, until you press a delicate kiss to his balls, and he releases a groan so carnal it’s almost like a roar. You waste no time as you kiss up his shaft and moan as you go down on him, causing him to growl with pleasure as he reaches out his hand to brush your hair up and away from your face; both allowing you to work easier, and for him to see your face as you slowly take his length as far into your throat as you can handle. His dick fills you; your cheeks puffed wide for his girth as you slowly push your head downward, trying to accommodate him until you gag from his size. His giant hand lets go of your hair to caress your cheek as you lift your eyes to meet his, making his breath hitch as he sees just how much of himself is currently jammed into your throat. You bob your head faster now, staring up at Halsin as his face contorts in pleasure. You close your eyes when your head is suddenly jerked back gently with a pop as you feel Halsin’s giant hand slide from the back of your head to your chin as he gently draws you up out of the water.

You stare wide-eyed in adoration as Halsin rises pulling you with him until you are stood facing the giant elf.

“My dear, might we try something?” His voice husky with desire, a dazzling smirk toying his lips. You nod, spellbound by his mischievous charm. His giant hands slide onto both of your hips, before he slowly spins you to face away from him, towards the rock he was laying on before. He takes a half step to stand at your side, as he places one hand on your hip to steady you, and using the other to push down from the center point between your shoulders and neck. You automatically stick your arms out to catch yourself, and you suddenly remember the bugbear bend diagram from Halsin’s reading earlier. You quickly drop onto your elbows and wiggle your ass in the air, eliciting a growl from your companion as he steps back behind you. His cock is still hard as he drags the very tip through your wet folds making you whimper.

“Please Halsin”

“Darling, it can be a bit much. I want to go slow to make sure it doesn’t hurt you.” His voice is softer now, while he presses his chest against your back, leaning forward and reaching out to his pant pocket on the ground by your elbows. You watch the small vial of pale-yellow liquid swirl in his hand as he leans back into a stand, and you hear the soft pop of the cork releasing. You glance over your shoulder hungrily as you watch the oil trickle onto his still hard cock, and he slowly strokes himself to spread the lubricant around his huge member. The sight causes an involuntary roll of your hips towards Halsin and he chuckles darkly, “Turn around little rabbit”

You start to whine as you turn your head back around, but almost instantly the druid is pushing into you with one hand on your lower back as the other spreads your ass for easier access. He pants and pushes into you a little more before pausing, “Are you alright my love?”

Your voice is strained with lust as you pant out a demand, “More,”

The druid grunts in excited shock and pushes himself farther into you as you both groan in pleasure. He’s enormous and you feel him pushing on the walls of your sex as he takes up your entire opening while he continues to enter you. You’re both grunting and growling at the intensity of your joining before Halsin slowly begins to rock his hips out, holding you in place from your lower back. You gasp as he drives back into you as he begins thrusting at a slow but steady pace. There is so much of him that each thrust is exhilarating. As you feel him rutting into you, his growls becoming deeper and more animal-like with each push. You can feel the soft pudge at the bottom of your stomach pushing forward when he fills you and you let out an ecstatic whimper.

“My heart-” Halsin’s voice is hoarse as his thrusts become sloppier and his hands both slide to wrap around your hips as he bounces you off of his cock desperately. You feel the tight clench in your stomach as you start to come undone, your muscles involuntarily squeezing around your lover as he lets out a low growl and pumps his massive load into you. You would fully collapse if not for the elf currently holding you steady at the hips. You sharply breathe in as he gently removes himself from your core, a lewd pop sounding as he pulls out completely and you feel the warm fluids running down the inside of your thigh. Your arms shake from the exertion and just as you start to wobble, Halsin steps to your side and effortlessly picks you up bridal style before leaning in to plant a kiss on your forehead. He steps into the pool and you feel the warm water envelop you both as he gently releases you, your body floating easily on the surface of the spring. You both sign contentedly, relaxing in the warm water as you feel his large hand envelop yours, pulling you close enough to float by his side.

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This is part 2 of this series! If you liked this one, check out the Astarion version here and if you want to see more in the future please follow and/or send requests to my ask box :) also if you scrolled all the way down here, this is the pic that helped inspire me to finish this one lol enjoy

#bg3 smut #halsin x reader #halsin #halsin silverbough #halsin smut #bg3 one shot #bg3 fanfiction

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wisteriawater · 3 months ago

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Guys... Pattadol's tall man age translation is 16.5 years old. If it's barely okay for her to wear muffs, but perfectly acceptable for Thistle to wear the children's clothing then that makes things pretty damn clear.

Thistle is a child, likely in his teens, but still a child under the elven age of maturity (and our real world age of adulthood.)

The funky thing here is marcille, but if she ages half the rate of an elf as a half elf, then her age translation would be 20? That may be the cap of tolerance to wear muffs, or she may get away with it due to being under 80 (the elf queen doesn't recognize mixed race children, so she may not recognize mixed race children's aging rates with her followers taking her lead.) I'm not sure. The former of it merely being the age cap for tolerance makes more sense to me, because on the other side we see the other canaries all being in their mid twenties+ (developmentally) with peepaw looking particularly dashing in his ill tailored cap, all labeled as being uncomfortable culturally.

Anyways, my point is, we see a mid adolescent (Pattadol) wearing a set of muffs with it being barely acceptable, but it's okay for Thistle to wear them with no extra notes. This is a clever confirmation that he is younger than 16.5 developmentally, to a significant enough margin for him to be viewed as a different age group.

Ryoko Kui does a great job finding ways to describe things accurately while still being able to preserve the vagueness that suits the story. I honestly find taking advantage of that, and twisting it, when the canon content does give clear indications (in multiple areas) about characters and their bio stats (in regards to things like age. Be gay as hell 🩷) kinda....disrespectful to the artist ngl. For clarity, this is a canon image. The information in the image is canon.

#thistle #thistle dunmeshi #thistle delicious in dungeon #delicous in dungeon #dunmeshi #dungeon meshi #canon dungeon meshi lore #thistle dungeon meshi #thistle is a child #just let thistle be a child for once in his life god damn.

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moeitsu · 4 months ago

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The Tie Which Linked My Soul To Thee

Ch 18 - To Hear the Distant Church Bells Chime

Summary: The gang finds a new hideout at Shady Belle, just outside the heart of the new modern America. With Jack still missing, Kate and Arthur must work together to find him. Amidst the tension, Arthur confides in Kate about his deepest regrets.

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A/N: 9.5k words yippee! Not gonna lie gang, I'm really proud of this one. So many feels. So many emotions. Little disclaimer, when I talk about Arthurs past, I am not following the canon events. I've changed the details to suit the story. Anyways, I'm so glad to be able to share this and not make you wait another two months (oopsie)

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

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

StoryTags: Widowed, Original Character(s), High-Honor!Arthur Morgan, Arthur Morgan Does Not Have Tuberculosis, Arthur Morgan Deserves Happiness, Chubby!Arthur Morgan, Canon Divergence, Mutual Pining, Slow Build, Eventual Smut, Eventual Sex, Eventual Romance, Emotional Sex, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort,Touch-Starved, Sexual Tension, Friends to Lovers, Child Loss, Infant Death, Trauma, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Torture, Blood and Violence, Survivor Guilt, Aftermath of Torture, Caretaking, Injury Recovery, Period-Typical Racism, Anxiety, Self-Hatred, Night Terrors, Emotional Constipation, Self-Doubt, Men Crying, Bathing/Washing, Sweet/Hot, Romantic Angst, Romantic Fluff

As the sun began to set, casting long shadows over the dense swamps of Lemoyne, the gang found themselves approaching their new hideout—Shady Belle. The journey had been grueling, filled with the constant threat of pursuit and the weight of recent tragedies. They had to pack quickly, and unfortunately had to leave things behind in the rush. Now, as they rode up to the dilapidated manor, a sense of uneasy relief washed over them. Physical and mental exhaustion settled into their bones as they took in the site of their new “home”.

Shady Belle was a far cry from the relative peace of Clemens Point. The old plantation house stood partially reclaimed by the swamp, its once-grand façade now crumbling and overgrown with ivy. The windows were shattered, and the wooden walls were rotting, giving the manor an eerie, haunted appearance. A thick fog clung to the ground, swirling around their horses' hooves as they approached. Even as the moon began its ascent, the sun retiring after another long day, the humidity clung to the air like thistles. The dry fever of western Lemoyne was replaced with a sweltering sticky heat from the southern swamps.

The surrounding grounds were equally foreboding. Gnarled trees twisted upwards, their branches draped with Spanish moss that hung like ghostly curtains. The stagnant water of the nearby bayou reflected the deepening twilight, and the air was thick with the hum of insects and the distant croaking of frogs. It was a place that seemed to whisper of long-forgotten secrets and unseen dangers lurking just beyond the shadows. The cover over the bayou would keep them hidden, but the single path leading to the manor meant it would be difficult to escape if they were ambushed.

Arthur and John were waiting for the gang upon their arrival. Having cleared out the space per Dutch's commands. It was a quick, bloody battle. The old manor had been claimed by squatters and drunks. Homeless people just looking for a roof over their head and a place to rest. There was no time for negotiation, and so they opened fire. They had just cleared the last of the bodies as the sound of hooves and wagons approached them.

“Welcome to my humble abode!” Arthur called out with a hint of mockery and sarcasm. “If you can ignore the corpses and the alligators. It's practically paradise.”

Dutch dismounted and surveyed the scene, his keen eyes scanning for any immediate threats. He motioned for the others to spread out and park the wagons by the front. Approaching Arthur and John with a confident smile, “nice work boys.” He turned back towards the chuck wagon, “Ms. Grimshaw, Mr. Pearson,” he addressed. “Work your magic if you’d please.” The two dismounted from the wagon with a nod and began unloading supplies.

Dutch strode up the creaking steps to the front porch. The door hung loosely on its hinges, and with a firm push, he swung it open, revealing the dim interior. Dust motes danced in the fading light, and the musty smell of decay permeated the air. The once-opulent hallways were now lined with peeling wallpaper and broken furniture, evidence of years of neglect and abandonment.

Inside, the gang fanned out to explore their new home. Javier and Bill took to the upper floors, their footsteps echoing through the empty corridors. Lenny and Charles headed towards the back of the house, checking the kitchens and servant quarters. Meanwhile, Arthur and John remained outside to help unload their wagons.

Kate lingered near the entrance, her eyes drawn to the remnants of what was once a grand chandelier, now shattered and strewn across the floor. She felt a shiver run down her spine, the oppressive atmosphere of the place seeping into her bones. Sadie stood beside her, brows knitted together with uncertainty.

“This place gives me the creeps,” Sadie whispered, her voice carrying a hint of doubt.

Kate nodded, “It’s not ideal, but it’ll have to do. At least we’re out of danger, for now.”

As the gang settled in, Dutch gathered them in the main courtyard around a broken and withered fountain. “This ain’t much, but it’s ours for the time being,” he said, his voice echoing from the front steps. “We’ll make do. We always have.”

Arthur glanced around the group, noting the weary expressions and the unspoken fears. Shady Belle might provide them with temporary refuge, but the looming threat of Bronte and Jack, and the relentless pursuit of the Pinkertons weighed heavily on them all. His eyes found Kate’s amongst the crowd, she was watching him instead of paying attention to Dutch. Arthur was relieved that she didn’t leave, regretting his previous words to her almost as soon as he said them. But his duty and his ego stopped him from turning around and apologizing right then and there. He desperately needed to talk to her, he had let his anger and anxiety take hold of him. As the crowd began to disperse he was ready to approach her, when he heard his name called from the small dock jutting out into the water. It was John.

Arthur sighed, Jack was still their top priority. His time with Kate would have to wait for another day. As he left the scene he noticed Ms. Grimshaw handed her a crate, she would be occupied with her own tasks anyhow.

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“This is crazy, right? Tell me I’m not the only one who thinks this whole thing is crazy,” John sputtered, pacing the rotting wooden dock as Arthur approached.

The small wooden fishing bench called his name, and Arthur sat down with a weary sigh. He felt so tired, so drained, and so old. The years of running were catching up to him. “It’s gonna be alright, John.”

“We should be going after Jack!” John exclaimed, his voice laced with frustration.

“We will. As soon as everyone is safe and settled in. We need to be careful. Milton is coming back, and he’ll bring an army with him,” Arthur explained. “Jack will be alright. We’re no use to him dead.”

John sighed, defeated, and took the seat next to Arthur. He pulled out a cigarette and lit the match with the tip of his boot. After a long drag, he passed the burning tobacco to his elder brother. “I don't even know what to think anymore.”

Arthur nodded and accepted the cigarette, taking a slow drag and letting the smoke pool around them in a cloud. “I know, but we gotta be smart about this.”

John scoffed. “Smart? Are you joking? We stirred up so much trouble and drew ‘em right to us again! How many people have we killed in the past week?”

Arthur ran a hand through his hair, feeling the weight of their actions. “Far too many, I reckon.”

“I’m tired of Dutch’s games, Hosea’s too. ‘Master con men’ my ass. They’re getting old and running out of ideas. Why should we suffer for it?” John said bitterly.

“Watch your mouth, Marston,” Arthur shot him a warning glare. “They thought those families were sitting on gold. I don’t know what else to tell you. Things don’t always work out—”

“Yeah, they thought there was money,” John interrupted. “Ain’t this always about money? And yet we never seem to have any!”

Arthur sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose as John stood up abruptly. “Jack’s gone. Sean’s dead, Mac, Davey, Jenny. All of this death, and for what?”

John was beginning to sound like Kate, and Arthur understood why she had joined him on their revenge mission. “We can’t change what’s done. We can only move on.”

“We need to start learning from our mistakes. We need to leave,” John said with confidence. “After we get Jack. My family, you, and Kate. We high tail.”

“We’ve had a rocky run, but it ain’t all bad. Dutch has a plan—” Arthur tried to make his brother see reason and logic. Running away wasn't going to be easy on their own, and they had the whole gang to take care of.

“This whole plan is a goddamn mess! Dutch keeps gettin’ us into worse trouble! You nearly died because he was too ignorant to see he was being set up.”

Arthur rose from his seat and pointed an accusatory finger at his brother. “And I hear you decided to take care of that little problem. Maybe if you hadn’t left, Jack wouldn’t be gone!” John swallowed and narrowed his gaze.

“You could have gotten yourself killed, Marston. Or worse. You keep this up, and you’ll never make it out alive.” Arthur shoved past him, intending to leave with those words.

He had heard enough. The situation gnawed at him. John and Kate were right, and he knew it, but he couldn’t bring himself to go against Dutch. He had to have faith that things would work out, that he would see them through this. Dutch had always taken care of them, since the day he found them when they were children.

“I know Kate broke your promise,” John said slowly. Arthur stopped in his tracks. “I asked her to. And she fought unlike any woman I’ve seen before.” A moment of silence passed between them, sweat running down Arthur’s neck and tickling his spine.

“I don’t know what she sees in you, Morgan, but she loves you something fierce,” John said finally.

Red. Arthur’s vision went red. Images of a woman long gone flashed before his eyes, letters of love burning in a fire. Memories of his past mingled with his present, the pain and guilt intermingling in a relentless assault on his senses.

He whirled around and shoved John back harshly, nearly pushing him into the water. “You don’t know a goddamn thing about Kate!” he shouted, his voice cracking under the weight of his emotions.

John’s eyes darkened, but he held his ground. “I know you're terrified she’ll end up like Eliza,” he said, adding salt to the wound he knew he was reopening.

“You have the chance to do this differently, Arthur. Think about that.” This time John was the one to push past Arthur, making his way back into the bustling camp as everyone continued to unpack.

Arthur took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. Grief and regret flooded over him, each memory of Eliza and Isaac tearing at his heart. He longed for Kate’s comfort, her presence more than anything. Her words always filled him with reassurance, grounding him in a way nothing else could. She might be the only woman who truly understood him. And yet he knew he couldn’t face her now, not after what he said. And all the words that still remained unsaid, the truth about Eliza and Isaac.

He willed the memories to leave, but they haunted him and pressed down on his soul like a heavy weight. He remembered Eliza’s gentle smile, the way she cradled Isaac in her arms, the hope that they had kindled together only to have it brutally extinguished. The regret of not being there, not protecting them, tore at him every day. The fear of losing Kate the same way gnawed at his heart, driving him to the brink of despair.

Arthur pulled out another cigarette, lighting it with a shaky hand. He sat back down on the rotting bench, feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders. The sound of cicadas and tree frogs filled the air, a stark contrast to the turmoil within him. He closed his eyes, trying to find some semblance of peace in the night sounds of their new hideout. But the pain, the fear, and the unspoken words lingered, wrapping around his heart like a vice, leaving him to grapple with his demons in the stillness of the night.

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Saint Denis was a world away from the rugged, untamed wilderness that the gang was used to. It was a bustling city, teeming with life and activity at all hours of the day and night. The streets were lined with tall, elegant buildings, their facades adorned with intricate ironwork and ornate detailing. Electric lamps illuminated the sidewalks, casting a warm glow that contrasted sharply with the cool, modernity of the city. The cobblestone streets were filled with carriages, horses, and pedestrians, all moving in a chaotic but oddly harmonious dance. The distant ring of the trolly cart could be heard as it made frequent stops at every main intersection.

The air was thick with the scents of the city – the sweet aroma of freshly baked bread from the bakeries, the pungent smell of horse manure, and the ever-present tang of coal smoke from the factories. Street vendors hawked their wares, calling out to passersby with promises of the finest goods and the best prices. The sounds of the city were equally overwhelming – the clatter of hooves on cobblestones, the murmur of conversations, the clanging of streetcars, and the distant wail of a train whistle.

Kate had joined Arthur, Dutch, John, and Charles in their search for Angelo Bronte, the elusive figure who held the key to Jack’s whereabouts. Despite the fight they had, Arthur didn’t protest her presence. The tension between them was palpable, but there was an unspoken understanding that the mission at hand was more important than their personal grievances.

Dutch halted the group at the small central park in Saint Denis, the sprawling city looming around them with its grand architecture and bustling streets. The cacophony of voices and the distant hum of machinery filled the air. The scent of smoke and industry mingled with the aroma of street food vendors, creating a sensory overload that was both thrilling and overwhelming.

“Alright, we split up,” Dutch ordered, his eyes scanning the faces of his small posse. “We need to find Bronte’s whereabouts. Ask around, see if anyone knows anything. Be discreet, but don’t waste time.”

Kate nodded, her heart pounding with a mix of anxiety and determination. The city felt like a labyrinth, each turn leading to more questions and fewer answers. She glanced a look at Arthur, their eyes meeting briefly. She saw a flicker of concern in his gaze, before he nodded and left.

Kate set off down a side street, the sound of her boots echoing on the cobblestones. The city was alive with activity, children laughing and playing, and people bustling about their daily lives. It was a stark contrast to the quiet desperation that had settled over their camp.

She approached various shops and vendors and asked about a man named Bronte. Most of them ignored her questions, opting to try and convince her to buy their goods. Some merchants gave her a weary look at the mention of his name, and informed her that they don’t want to get involved. Their demeanor suggested that this Bronte man was dangerous, and this mission may be bigger than they realized.

As she walked, a distant sound caught her attention—church bells, their clear, melodic tones cutting through the noise of the city. Drawn by the sound, Kate followed the bells, winding her way through the streets until she reached a grand cathedral. Its towering spires reached towards the heavens, the stones adorned with intricate carvings and stained glass windows that glinted in the sunlight. It reminded her of the church back in Boston, the one her catholic mother would bring the whole family to for Sunday worship. It had been so long since Kate attended church, after her mother passed, her father never kept up with religion.

The ringing bells announced the joining of two souls in marriage, their song filling the air with a sense of celebration and hope. Kate stood at the entrance, watching as the wedding party gathered on the steps. The bride, radiant in her white gown, and the groom, beaming with pride, were surrounded by family and friends, their laughter and joy a stark contrast to the sorrow in Kate’s heart.

She closed her eyes, the memories of her own wedding day flooding back. The scent of blooming flowers, the sound of her family’s laughter, and the feel of her husband’s hand in hers. She remembered the warmth of his embrace, the way he looked at her with so much love. But those days were long gone, stolen away by the harsh realities of life. Her family was gone, her husband and child lost to the world of chaos that seemed to follow her every step. She missed them all fiercely, the pain of their absence a constant ache in her heart.

Drawing in a deep breath, Kate squared her shoulders. She couldn’t afford to dwell on the past, not when there was so much at stake. The bells continued to ring, a reminder of what she had lost, but also a beacon of hope for what she could still protect.

As she rejoined the bustling streets of Saint Denis, she kept her ears open and her eyes sharp, ready to follow any lead that would bring them closer to Angelo Bronte and the answers they desperately needed.

Kate navigated through the narrow streets of Saint Denis, her eyes scanning the faces of passersby for any hint of familiarity or recognition. The city’s vibrant energy of the city was distracting but she remained focused on the task at hand. The distant sound of the church bells still echoed in her ears.

As she turned down a side street, a sudden blur of comotion caught her attention. A young boy, no older than twelve, sprinted past her, nearly knocking her over. He clutched something tightly to his chest, his eyes wide with fear and determination.

"Hey!" Kate called out, but the boy didn’t stop. Moments later, Arthur came barreling down the street, his face a mix of frustration and urgency. He was limping slightly, favoring his uninjured ankle.

"You little shit!" he shouted, breathless, "I’ll kill you ya thieving bastard!" Arthur ran past Kate and darted down the alley after the young boy.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Kate sprinted after the boy, her boots echoing in the narrow alley. She could hear Arthur’s labored breathing behind her, pushing through the pain to keep up. The boy was fast, weaving through the crowd with the agility of a street urchin well-versed in the art of escape. Kate spotted an alleyway ahead and made a split-second decision. She darted down the narrow passage, hoping to cut the boy off.

The alley was dimly lit and cluttered with discarded crates and barrels, but she navigated it with ease. As she emerged on the other side, she saw the boy racing towards her. He didn’t notice her until it was too late, running straight into her towering figure.

Kate gripped the boy's shoulders tightly, enough to warn him without causing harm. He looked up at her, eyes wide with shock and fear.

“I believe you took something that belongs to my friend,” she said calmly. “Hand it over. I’m not going to hurt you.”

Arthur finally caught up to them, breathing hard as he leaned against the stone archway when he saw Kate. “Goddamn rotten bastard,” he growled, pushing off the wall and approaching them.

The young boy looked back and stuttered, “I-I was only playing mister, I swear!” He threw the satchel to the ground at Arthur’s feet, trying to worm his way out of Kate’s grasp. He struggled as she tightened her hold.

“Please let me go Miss, I-I’m sorry!”

“Fuckin' right you’re sorry,” Arthur mumbled, picking up his things. “Tell me why I shouldn’t kill ya right here.” He spat.

Kate shot him a vehement look, and he turned his face shamefully. Checking his bag to make sure nothing was gone.

Kate knelt down to the boy's level, her grip still holding his shoulders tightly. “What’s your name, kid?”

“J-Joey. My name’s Joey,” the boy sputtered.

Kate breathed and relaxed her grip, trying to show him she meant no harm. “It’s nice to meet you, Joey. Can you tell me where your family is?”

Joey shook his head, his voice trembling. “Don’t have one, Miss.”

Arthur’s eyes softened slightly, but his voice remained stern. “Then what the hell were you doin’ runnin’ around with my satchel?”

Joey hesitated, his eyes darting between Kate and Arthur. “I-I work for Mister Bronte. He said we could keep anything we stole. Said it’d make us rich.”

Kate exchanged a glance with Arthur, her heart pounding with relief and urgency. They finally had a lead. “Where does Bronte live, Joey?” she asked gently.

The boy’s eyes filled with fear, but Kate’s calming presence seemed to reassure him. “He’s got a big house by the water, right near the docks. Lots of men guardin' it.”

Kate sighed and released the boy. “You did good, Joey. Now get outta here and don’t let me catch you stealin’ again.”

Joey nodded quickly and took off down the alley, disappearing into the labyrinth of Saint Denis. Kate stood up and locked eyes with Arthur. It had been two days since Jack went missing, two days since their fight. There was a heavy, awkward silence between them, the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air.

Arthur's eyes were filled with relief and something else—something she couldn't quite place. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words seemed to catch in his throat. Kate tried to form her own thoughts into words, but her mind was whirling with emotions.

Finally, Arthur cleared his throat. Breaking the silence. “I left Charles near the market. He’s keepin' an eye out.”

Kate nodded, “right.” Her voice is steady despite the trouble within. “I’ll go roundup John and Dutch. We’ll meet at Bronte's manor.”

They stood there for a moment longer, neither knowing what else to say. The tension between them was palpable, but there was also a shared determination. They had a mission to complete, and Jack’s life depended on it.

Arthur gave her a brief, tight nod before turning and heading back towards the market. Kate watched him go, her heart aching with the desire to bridge the gap between them, but now was not the time.

With a deep breath, she turned and made her way through the bustling streets of Saint Denis. The city was alive with activity, the noise and chaos a stark contrast to the heavy silence that had hung between her and Arthur. She spotted John and Dutch near a corner store.

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Charles had been a quiet, solid presence in Arthur’s life, a true friend and trusted companion. Despite having been with the gang for less than a year, Charles had quickly developed a meaningful friendship with Arthur, seeing the man beneath the tough outlaw exterior. As they rode side by side toward Bronte’s manor, Arthur couldn’t help but reflect on how much he valued Charles’ calm and steady demeanor. He was truly a good man if Arthur had anything to say about him.

The city of Saint Denis gradually gave way to the more serene, albeit equally intimidating, waterside district where Bronte’s manor was located. The grandeur of the city was lost on Arthur; his mind was too occupied with worry and the mission at hand.

Charles glanced over at Arthur, sensing the conflict within him. “You alright, Arthur?” he asked, his voice low and steady, a grounding force.

Arthur let out a heavy sigh, his grip tightening on the reins. “I dunno, Charles. Feels like everything’s fallin’ apart.”

Charles nodded, his eyes thoughtful. “It’s been a rough few days. Jack’s missing, Sean’s death, the new hide out... it’s a lot to take in.”

Arthur looked ahead, his jaw clenched. “It’s more than that. Feels like everythin’ I do just makes things worse. Dutch’s plans, they’re not workin’. And then there’s Kate…”

Charles turned his gaze to Arthur, waiting patiently for him to continue.

“I told her not to go after Colm’s men. Made her promise,” Arthur continued, his voice tinged with regret. “But she did it anyway. And now I can’t stop thinkin’ about—” he hesitated for a breath. “I can’t protect her when she goes off like that.”

Charles nodded again, understanding the depth of Arthur’s pain. He wasn’t around when Arthur had lost his family, but he had heard the others talk about the burden he carried.

“Kate’s a strong woman. She’s been through a lot, just like you. She thought she was doin’ the right thing, even if it went against what you wanted.”

Arthur sighed, the weight of his past bearing down on him. “She promised me—”

“Stop. It’s not about her promise, I know you’re not as dense as all that.” Charles gave Arthur a moment to process what he said before he continued, treading lightly with his words. “You’ve gotta let go of your guilt, Arthur. It’s eating you alive.” He said softly.

“I love her, Charles,” Arthur’s voice trembled. His facade of strength was crumbling away with every moment.

“I love her so much it scares me. But my loyalty to the gang, it’s…it’s the closest thing I’ll ever have to a family again. Kate doesn’t deserve to get swept into this mess.”

Charles sighed deeply, understanding the strain Arthur was under. “Kate is smart, she understands the risks that come with this life. But she chose you, Arthur. She’s devoted herself to you. What she deserves is the truth.”

Arthur nodded, but the words still hurt to hear. He knew his friend was right. “Something big is coming, the law is breathin’ right down our necks. I’m putting her in danger, and I am so goddamn selfish because despite it all, I love her. And I can’t let her go.”

“It’s not selfish if she wants the same thing.” Charles said, as the grand manor came into view on the edge of the shoreline. The others had already dismounted and were waiting for them by the gate.

“Tell her the truth, Arthur. I have a feeling no matter what you say, she’s not going anywhere.”

Arthur and Charles rode up to the grand gates of Bronte's manor, the imposing structure casting long shadows in the afternoon sun. Dutch and John were already speaking to the guards, their voices low and tense. Charles took the reins of their horses, patting them gently to keep them calm. Arthur scanned the scene, his eyes immediately seeking out Kate.

He found her standing a little apart from the others, her gaze fixed on the manor with a determined look. Arthur approached her quietly, the weight of the past few days heavy on his shoulders. He stopped beside her, gazing up at the grand house. His presence was a silent reassurance.

“Kate,” Arthur murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Kate turned to him, her eyes softening with concern. “Arthur,” she breathed. He looked down, searching her eyes, seeing trust and understanding shimmering within them. Arthur was sure of it.

“Will you stay with Charles? Keep an eye on things, for me?” He had no idea what they were about to walk into, but if he could keep her safe from it, Arthur would damn well do it.

“Of course,” Kate answered immediately.

Arthur breathed a sigh of relief just as Dutch called his name. The heavy metal gates opened with a loud creaking sound, and before Arthur could turn away, Kate grabbed his hand.

“You be safe, ya hear?” she said sternly. “And you get that boy back, no matter what.” A small grin played on her lips.

“I’m countin’ on it, sweetheart,” he replied, bringing their conjoined hands to his face and kissing her knuckles.

His fierce, determined eyes locked on hers for a moment, before he broke away, rising to his duties. The simple gesture spoke volumes, a promise of protection and unwavering love.

As the gates closed with a loud bang behind them, Kate watched the three of them ascend the long white marble steps and enter the manor. She whispered a silent prayer to the wind for their safety, and Jack's return.

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By some miracle, the illusive man, Angelo Bronte, had not harmed a single hair on Jack's head. Much to everyone's surprise, Mr. Bronte had fed him, clothed him, and even given him a room of his own, full of toys, books, and games that every child could only dream of. The ride back to Shady Belle was filled with a silent relief. It was a win by all means, for once in their lives the conflict did not end with bloodshed. And for that, everyone was grateful.

Jack was home safe with his mother once again. Smothering him with kisses and checking every inch of his body for signs of harm. The young boy protested and whined, promising his Ma that he was fine. But as they sat around the fire, Abigail held her boy tightly in her lap. Resting her head against his, and promising never to let him out of her sight ever again.

The gang decided to celebrate Jack's return, letting the tension of the past days melt away in the warmth of a roaring fire. Singing and dancing erupted around the flames, creating a tapestry of joy and camaraderie under the moonlit sky. The flickering firelight cast playful shadows, illuminating the faces of the outlaws who, for one night, could forget their troubles.

Kate mingled with the others, trying to shake off the weight of recent events. But her eyes kept drifting to the periphery, where she noticed Arthur standing at a distance, watching the festivities with a sorrowful expression. His silhouette was stark against the dark backdrop of the night, a silent guardian on the edge of the light. He stood alone, like a wolf banished from the pack. The only signs of life were the red glow of his cigarette, as he lifted it to lips every so often.

She entertained the party for a while longer, joining in the songs and clapping along with the rhythm of the music. But when she looked back to where Arthur had been standing, he was gone. The empty space he left behind tugged at her heart, and she knew she had to find him.

Excusing herself from the group, Kate made her way through the camp, the laughter and music fading behind her. She walked towards the dimly lit manor, her footsteps soft against the grass and gravel.

Instead of focussing on the dreadful state of their new home – the peeling walls, the rotting stairs and missing floorboards – she focused instead, on the flickering light of Arthur’s room. She paused for a moment outside the door, gathering her thoughts.

All was silent on the second floor, except for the gentle creaking of the door that stood between them. It was missing one of its hinges, and the knob was long gong, the wind rocked the wooden frame in a gentle dance. Kate knocked quietly.

“Come in,” Arthur called. His voice sounded hoarse and tired.

Kate pushed the door open and stepped into the room. Arthur was sitting on the edge of the bed, his head bowed, lost in thought. The dim light from a single oil lantern cast a warm glow over his rugged features, highlighting the lines of weariness and worry etched into his face. He looked up as she entered, his eyes meeting hers with a mixture of surprise and something else—something deeper, more vulnerable.

She glanced around the room, noting how his things had been neatly unpacked by the others. A map lay sprawled across a large wooden crate, detailing their recent escapades and potential new routes. Old shelves were lined with gun ammo and other supplies. But it was the small china cabinet in the corner that drew her attention. Amongst the few items on display, there were two photographs. One was facing down.

Curiosity piqued, Kate picked up the photo and recognized the man in it – Arthur’s father. She placed it back down, hiding his old face in the darkness, and turned her attention back to Arthur.

“This place could use a woman’s touch,” she joked, trying to ease the tension in the air.

Arthur forced a chuckle, but his head hung low, elbows propped on his knees. He played with the frayed edges of his hat, a gesture Kate had come to recognize as one of his tell-tale signs when his mind was off in a darker place.

She sat down beside him, bumping her knee into his, trying to break through the heavy silence. She felt awkward, unsure what to say. Their emotions hung thick in the air, wrapping around them like a heavy blanket.

Arthur's eyes remained fixed on the worn brim of his hat, his voice low and rough. "You know," he began, "this old thing, it was my father's."

Kate glanced at him, her heart aching at the pain in his voice. She remained silent, giving him the space to continue. Arthur rarely spoke about his father, and she was curious about what had him in such sorrow.

“He died by the end of a rope when I was just a kid, but he lived longer than what was good for any of us,” Arthur sighed, flipping the old leather in his hands.

“He was an awful man. Hated me since the day I was born for bein’ another mouth to feed. Robbed everyone he could and spent all the money on booze. I don’t think I’ll ever forget the night he come home from a bar, reeking of rot-gut whiskey. He lost all his money in a game of poker, and took his anger out on my Ma. Blamed her for bein’ the reason we had no money. But I knew he did it because of me.”

Arthur blew a short huff out of his nose, shaking his head as if the memory of them was just a simple misunderstanding. “He took me that night, and I never saw Ma again.”

Kate gasped softly at what Arthur was insinuating. He had told her a few stories about his parents, but they were never painted in a good light. Arthur always said he didn't remember much about his mother. Her heart ached; he must have been so young to witness such violence.

Shifting his weight, the bed creaked softly. Subtly, almost unconsciously, he moved closer to Kate. Their shoulders brushing, Arthur's figure nearly leaned into her. “When I was old enough to be useful, he had me robbing folks ‘fore I could even feed myself. If I put up a fight, he would whoop my hide with some old leather chaps till I couldn’t walk.” Arthur breathed deeply; the memories still pained him.

“I tried to run away once, hid in some fellas' barn in the hay loft,” he chuckled bitterly. “Lyle nearly killed me when he found me. Told me if I ever thought ‘bout leaving again, he would put me in the ground with my mother.”

Kate couldn’t find the words to comfort him. It was too much to bear—the thought of Arthur, so young and innocent, being hurt in ways a child should never have to endure. To be raised without a mother, and a father who despised him. The abuse of power, as he was the only means of staying alive. Kate knew he had lived through hell.

“Sometimes I wish they had put me up on that rope with him. Would’ve saved the world a lot of trouble,” he tossed the hat aside, landing on the ground with a soft whisper.

“Guess I ain’t too different from my old man.” Arthur sighed and leaned back against the wall behind his bed, looking defeated.

Kate gaped at him for a moment. How he could compare himself to such an evil man was beyond her. She looked between him and his hat, Lyle’s hat, and found herself wondering why he would keep such a thing—whether it was out of spite for his father or purely out of his own self-hatred. There was still so much about him she had yet to discover. So many scars that ran deeper than the ones Colm’s men had inflicted on him.

“I’ve met bad men. Truly evil men, Arthur,” Kate began, her voice gentle and reassuring. “But you are nothing like your father. That much I know is true.”

From the moment she said the words, she could tell Arthur wasn’t going to hear them. He had 36 years to make himself in his father’s image, on purpose or simply by his nature.

Arthur despised his father with a fervor that burned deep within him. Lyle Morgan had been a cruel, selfish man, leaving scars that never fully healed. Arthur’s childhood had been marred by violence and neglect, his father's shadow looming over every aspect of his life. The man had failed him in every conceivable way, shaping Arthur into the man he had become – a man who now felt he had no other choice but to follow in those very footsteps.

Kate had that determined look about her, like she could conquer the world if she willed it. Her unwavering strength was one of the many qualities Arthur had come to love about her. Kate was a good woman, and a loyal friend to her bones. It scared him how deeply he had fallen for her. His years with Mary felt lost to time, her decline at his proposal had hurt. But his heart had healed from rejection, and she remains alive. In the back of his mind, he knew the safest thing for her was to be far away from him.

But now Kate is safe, Jack is home. The gang is out of trouble for the time being. But Arthur’s past regrets kept him locked in the dark. He often told the others that they can’t change the past, only move forward. But he found himself struggling to take his own advice.

Arthur's eyes met hers, and she saw the trust and understanding shimmering within them. His gaze softened, yet the pain lingered. “I haven’t been completely honest with ya, darlin’,” Arthur finally spoke, his voice softening at the tone of endearment.

“Then tell me the truth. I’m here to listen,” Kate answered, trying to hide her restlessness. She was desperate to know what was eating him alive. It was obvious his pain ran deeper than her broken promise.

Arthur sighed and placed a hand on her thigh. Kate immediately placed her hand over his own. “Those stories I told you about Isaac, I… I wasn’t actually there for any of ‘em.” He said hesitantly. Kate nodded ever so slightly, encouraging him to continue.

In moments of introspection, Arthur felt the crushing weight of that legacy. His father had set him on this path, and despite his best efforts to forge a different future, Arthur found himself repeating the same cycle of failure and regret. His father had failed him, just as Arthur had failed his own son, Isaac. The boy had deserved a better life, a chance to grow up free from the violence and chaos that had defined Arthur’s world. Instead, Arthur’s own fears and inadequacies had sealed Isaac’s fate.

“After the kid was born, I didn’t want him raised with the gang. I didn’t want him ‘round that kinda trouble. So I put Eliza and her boy up in a cabin, not too far from where we was, but a safe distance. I promised her I would visit often, bringing her food and money. Whatever they needed.”

His fingers trembled slightly, and Kate gave them a squeeze. “As Isaac got older, he began askin’ about me, wantin’ to see me more. And… I don’t know. Guess I got scared. I was terrified he’d end up like me. Like my father. So I stopped visiting, and I never told Eliza why. She always wrote me letters, telling me stories about Isaac. But I never wrote her back, and then I lost every letter in Blackwater.”

He sighed deeply. Thinking about his first journal, the one he had carried with him for nearly a decade. All those memories, drawings, and letters were gone. Never to be graced by his eyes again.

“The gang had a nasty run-in with the law. So we had to leave and stay hidden for a few months. When things died down, I was able to collect her letters from the post office. Eliza didn’t know if I was dead or alive and yet she begged me to come back, to visit Isaac, to send her money for food. In her last letter, she told me she had borrowed a small amount of money. They were desperate and out of options. I knew she didn’t have the means to pay them back.”

He sucked in a sharp breath. “I was only days too late. Some bastard had killed both her and my son over ten dollars.” Arthur closed his eyes and pressed a fist to his mouth. “Because I was too goddamn afraid of failing, I was too afraid to raise my own kid. So, I sent them to an early grave.”

Arthur felt a wave of shame wash over him at the memory. Knowing that he had ruined other families, just like his own. When he was sent to collect the gang's money that was loaned out. The thought of his own actions made him sick. How Kate had stuck with him after the mess at Downes ranch was a mystery to him.

Kate's breath caught in her throat as Arthur's words settled into the quiet room. Her heart ached for him, the weight of his past sins and regrets pressing down on her own soul. She had always known there was darkness in him, but hearing it laid bare, raw and unfiltered, shattered her. She understood why her broken promise and Jack’s disappearance had ravaged his emotions. And she felt a deeper understanding of the giant that often consumed him.

Arthur’s fear of failure was an all-pervasive, mind-numbing, greedy serpent coiled deep in his belly. Devouring his strength and will. It changed his world from one of fleeting curiosities and riveting mischief to a cold, airless box. Suffocating and relentless, it whispered of past mistakes and potential losses, dragging him into a quagmire of self-doubt. Each breath felt like a battle, every decision a gamble with impossible stakes. The weight of his regrets, and the haunting memories of those he failed to protect, gnawed at his soul. He feared that every step he took might lead to another disaster, another life lost. And yet, despite the paralyzing dread, he pushed forward, driven by a desperate hope that was as old as his weary soul.

Kate pulled him closer, her arms wrapping around him tightly, as if her embrace could somehow shield him from the pain of his memories. "Oh honey, I'm so sorry," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "But you didn't send them to their graves. You can't blame yourself for what happened. Life is cruel and unforgiving, no man can bear that kind of weight."

Arthur leaned into her embrace, his body trembling with the force of silent sobs. "But I do, Kate. I carry that shit with me deep in my chest. I failed them. I couldn’t protect my own family, and I’m terrified I’ll fail you too."

Kate pulled back slightly, cupping his face in her hands. "Arthur, look at me." His eyes met hers, filled with a deep sorrow that broke her heart. Dark blue eyes reflecting his desperate ache.

"You haven’t failed me. And I have faith that you never will. But I need you to trust me too. I need you to believe that I can handle myself, that I can be there for you just as much as you are for me."

Arthur shook his head, his voice barely above a whisper. "I trust you. But the only way I can protect you is if I know you’re safe, if I know you’re not running off to find trouble without me at least knowing about it. I can’t bear the thought of losing you too. Not after everything."

Kate's heart swelled with love for the man before her, so strong and yet so vulnerable. Tears clung to her eyelashes, like shooting stars in the night sky. Threatening to fall down into their world.

She nodded, understanding the depth of his fear. "I promise, Arthur. I won’t run off without telling you first. But you have to promise me something too."

Arthur looked at her, his expression filled with a mixture of hope and fear. "Anything, darlin’."

"Promise me that you’ll let me stand by your side, no matter what. That you won’t try to push me away to protect me. We’re in this together, Arthur. And I want to be with you, through everything."

Arthur's eyes softened, and he nodded slowly. "I promise I will try."

Kate smiled through her tears, "that’s all I ask." She leaned in to press a soft kiss to his lips. Full of comfort and compassion.

Arthur pulled away from her lips and took a deep breath, his hand coming up to cup her cheek. "Kate,” he whispered. His blue eyes searched hers, wondering how such a woman was created for him.

“I love you,” he breathed, the words heavy with the weight of his emotions. "I love you more than I ever thought I could love anyone."

Kate's heart soared at his confession, her eyes filling with tears once more. "I love you, Arthur.” Her voice breaks with the strength of her words. “More than you could imagine."

Arthur kissed her then, and it was like kissing a new man. A man who had shared the depths of his soul, bearing all of his broken and ugly parts. The kiss was slow and deliberate, every touch of their lips a promise of the love they had found in each other. A weight had been lifted from his shoulders, allowing the both of them to soar to new heights. As their lips moved together, the world outside ceased to exist, and in that moment, they were all that mattered.

The warmth of his hand on her cheek, the gentle pressure of his lips, and the soft whispers of their breaths intertwined, creating a cocoon of intimacy and connection. Kate felt the depth of his love in every touch, every caress, and she knew that despite the hardships they faced, they had found something truly worth fighting for, in each other.

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

Kate and Arthur sat together on the porch off his room, watching the full moon rise over the distant horizon. The night was calm, the air filled with the soft sounds of crickets and the gentle rustle of leaves. The flickering glow of lighting bugs danced across the night. The faint scent of blooming night orchid wafted through the air, mingling with the earthy smell of the surrounding bayou. A gentle breeze brushed against their skin, cool and refreshing.

Kate nestled comfortably in Arthur’s lap, her head resting against his chest. She could feel the steady, reassuring beat of his heart beneath her cheek, a rhythmic reminder of the man she loved. He smelled of tobacco, mixed with cedar and musk. A comforting and familiar scent. Her thumb brushed over the softness of his beard, savoring the quiet moments of peace they had carved out for themselves. She traced the lines of his jaw, feeling the strength and roughness of his skin, the evidence of a life hard-lived.

Arthur’s face was lit by a tender smile, his eyes reflecting the serene glow of the moon. The silver light cast soft shadows across his features, highlighting the creases and scars that told stories of battles fought and survived. He held her close, one arm wrapped securely around her waist, the other gently combing through her wind tousled hair.

After a moment, he spoke up, breaking the comfortable silence. “I’m sorry, for what I said the other day,” he murmured, his deep voice soft and tinged with regret.

“Hmm?” Kate responded, her gaze shifting to meet his.

“Bout you leaving; how I wouldn’t stop you. I’m sorry I said that.” He clarified.

Kate smiled tenderly. “You’re forgiven, Arthur. I knew you didn’t mean it,” she said, her voice gentle and soothing.

“Good. Cause you can bet if you try to leave me now, I’ll hog-tie ya and run away with you on the back of my horse,” he said with a playful grin, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Oh yeah? Is that a promise, cowboy?” she teased, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

Arthur chuckled, the sound vibrating through his chest. “Damn right it is.”

With that, Arthur pulled her closer, his lips attacking hers with playful, hungry kisses. He nipped gently at her lower lip, eliciting a soft giggle from Kate. His kisses trailed down her neck, each one filled with a mix of teasing affection and unspoken desire. Kate’s laughter mingled with the soft rustling of the night, her fingers tangling in his hair as he continued his assault of love, his touch igniting a warmth that spread through her entire being.

Kate sighed contentedly, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “I’m sorry too. For breaking your promise,” she said finally, composing herself and sitting up in his lap. “If it makes you feel any better, I found those boys who took you.”

Arthur’s expression grew serious, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. “I’d imagine you gave ‘em hell,” he spoke. “Still worries me that they saw your face though.”

Kate straightened herself and gave Arthur a serious look, “It’s not like we had time for introductions, besides, one of them already knew who I was. But they can’t hunt me from the grave, Arthur.”

Arthur sighed and looked away from her for a moment, remembering the young O’Driscoll who had stolen his portrait of her. “Colm’s a dangerous man. I’m just worried he’ll use you against me. That’s all.”

Kate sank a little at his words, feeling guilt stir in her belly, “I understand.”

As if sensing her regret, Arthur attempted to lighten her mood, “Oh, don’t give me that look sweetheart. Just invite me next time you’re making house calls and…” he hesitated, searching for the right words. “You didn’t have to do that for me, y’know.”

“I know,” she said softly. “Part of me was just being selfish,” she admitted, her voice tinged with a mix of guilt and embarrassment.

Arthur furrowed his brows in confusion and looked down at her, “Selfish ain’t quite the word I would use.”

Kate let out a breathy giggle, appreciating Arthur’s attempt to be sweet. Her heart throbbed at his recent confession, and she felt he deserved the truth behind her actions.

“It’s true. Ever since I lost my family I–” She suddenly felt a frog in her throat, and her face felt warm with oncoming tears.

It was easy to talk about them, to talk about her grief with Arthur. To share memories of her loved ones was as simple as breathing. She could paint vivid pictures of her family's laughter, the warmth of their embrace, and the love that had once filled her life. It was a way to keep them alive in her heart, to ensure they were never truly gone. But what was hard was admitting how her strength and resolve were merely a facade, covering up the darker parts of her. The parts desperate to regain some semblance of control in her life.

Kate's past was marred by tragedy and loss. The day she lost her husband and child had shattered her world. She remembered the suffocating grief, the unbearable weight of their absence. But fate wasn’t satisfied with her loved ones, it took a piece of her as well the day she was taken prisoner. In the aftermath, she had vowed never to feel that powerless again. She built walls around her heart, armor made of determination and resolve. To the world, she appeared strong and unyielding, a woman who could handle anything thrown her way. But beneath that facade lay a deep-seated fear.

“I’m terrified of feeling powerless again,” she continued. Arthur listened closely to her every word. “Unable to save my loved ones or save myself.”

She paused, her voice catching as she fought to continue. “It’s like this relentless force driving me, this need to control everything around me. I’m afraid, Arthur. I’m afraid of losing you, afraid of losing everyone I care about.”

Arthur’s eyes softened with understanding, his hand gently brushing a strand of hair from her face. Kate took a deep breath, her fingers tracing the lines of Arthur’s face as if trying to memorize every detail.

“It’s been so hard on my own. I’ve spent so long pretending to be strong, convincing myself that if I can control things, I won’t get hurt again. But it’s exhausting, and it’s not real. The truth is I am not a strong woman, just a scared one.”

This need for control was consuming her. It left her anxious and restless, always on edge, always waiting for the next disaster. Kate's journey had been a solitary one. She had relied on herself for so long, she had forgotten how to lean on others. Her independence was both her strength and her weakness. It kept her moving forward, but it also kept her isolated. She had been so focused on surviving, on maintaining her semblance of control, that she had forgotten what it meant to truly live.

“No,” Arthur sat up abruptly and gripped her hands. “No, Kate, that is not true. You’re bein’ too hard on yourself.” His voice was firm but gentle, filled with a reassurance that made her lips tremble. Silent tears ran down her cheeks as she absorbed his words.

“Goddammit woman. I don’t ever want to hear you speak like that,” Arthur's voice was stern, like he was scolding a child, but it was laced with overwhelming support and love. “You can be both. You understand me? I’m scared too, darlin’. I promise you, I’m just as scared. But that don’t mean you ain’t strong. You’ve done so much for this gang, for me.”

Kate looked into his eyes, feeling the intensity of his conviction. Meeting Arthur had changed everything. He saw through her facade, saw the pain and fear she tried so hard to hide. With him, she didn't have to pretend. She could be vulnerable, could share the darkness that lurked within her. It was terrifying, but it was also liberating. For the first time in years, she felt like she could breathe.

Arthur's grip on her hands tightened as he continued, his voice a soft rumble. “The devil may have dealt you some nasty cards, but you faced that fire and you came out stronger. You’re one of the bravest people I know, Kate. When I look at you I am filled with pride knowing how brave and compassionate my woman is.”

Kate's tears flowed freely now, not from sadness, but from the relief of being understood, of being accepted for all that she was. She leaned into Arthur, resting her head against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart.

“I love you, Arthur Morgan.” Her voice felt tiny in his presence. Kate couldn’t find the words to express how much Arthur meant to her, but in her heart she knew he understood.

Arthur squeezed her tight to his chest, resting his chin atop her head. “And I love you, Kate McCanon.”

As she sat with Arthur on the porch, the moon casting a gentle glow over them, Kate realized that she didn't have to face her fears alone. She didn't have to be in control all the time. She had Arthur by her side, and he had her by his. She could let go, if only a little, and trust that he would catch her if she fell.

A/N: I know this chapter was super dialogue heavy. But tbh I just love writing conversations lmao. I particularly enjoyed the segment with John, he’s just a fun character to write. I was intending to end the chapter with Arthur’s confession about his father/son. But then i was like nah i really think Kate should open up about this too. It’s time to air out the dirty laundry, you know XD

Anyways. Big things coming my friends. If my little ADHD brain can work with me next chapter will be incredibly steamy. Lots of smut. It’s about damn time!! It’ll be a longer chapter, as there’s some other characters I’ve been neglecting for a while. And I’m also going to another wedding! So I’ll be gone for a few days, and I’ll be working on it when I get back.

Thanks for reading guys :)

#arthur morgan #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #ao3 fanfic #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan x original female character #red dead fandom #arthur morgan x reader #ao3 #arthur morgan x oc #arthur morgan rdr2 #arthur morgan fanfiction #rdr2 arthur #hurt/comfort #angst #fluff and feels #emotional

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flawlessflesh · 5 months ago

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I feel such a need to parent thistle but I am not equipped to deal with a normal mentally stable child, let alone someone with his issues

you're in luck! even though i do interpret him as being a teenager, i don't think he needs a parent and i don't think he would appreciate being treated like a child (even though he is one!) or having king freinag 'replaced' like that.

a parental figure wouldn't be any better suited for helping thistle than someone outside that role, and there is an aspect of authority/'i know better than you' that i can't help but associate with Parenting. that is the last thing he needs! i think he needs friends on equal standing with him, and to be treated like a human being with his own desires instead of like an empty vessel who has to live for others' sakes.

#i understand wanting a kinder childhood for him and in many minds that comes with having a parent. but is that really what is best for him?#this is a very nitpicky pet peeve but i dislike the impulse to place him in the 'child' role in w/e 'found family' arrangement #not to slam the 'no fun allowed' sign deeper into the earth but...#also you're all good anon LOL #this concept just unleashes a lot of thoughts whenever i consider it #my words

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emmylous-world · 2 years ago

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TF141 and their wedding

AN: I was bored and don’t have a laptop so I’ll feed you guys this, what I think their weddings would be like, lemme know if I should do something else, like engagement rings and wedding bands, types of houses etc. enjoy heheh

TF141 x f!reader

TW: mentions of sex,

Ghost💀

He’s gonna be very generic, basic and plain. It would be in the fall, beginning of October. He’s not much of the designer so he’ll definitely let you do the picking and choosing, happy with whatever. But it’s gonna be on the ghost theme, everything black and red with roses and skull’s. it’s not gothic or grungey, just black, red and a little white in there. His suit is black with a red tie. It’s probably held on a field in the country in England, idk won’t go into detail. Would only focus on you the whole night, he touches you more and gives you more kisses then normal. Will not stop touching, always has a hand on you, I mean it’s his wedding day. But doesn’t talk much, just watches you. Got teary eyes at Prices speech. When his tired of everyone, he picks you up bridal style and carries you to the cabin and consummate the wedding💀😏

Soap 🧼

Somewhat of Scottish wedding, definitely wears a kilt and the Mactavish brooch, thistle everywhere, the bouquet, cake, table decorations. It also be in august. Also I’m not sure if he would do a handfast first, but the wedding would definitely held in a castle in the highlands, and is sworn under God to be with you till the end of time. He cries when you walk down the aisle, can’t take his eyes off you, But after the wedding, the reception part, expect him to get pissed drunk. Plays some wedding games definitely, looses every time, cry’s at the speeches, every single one, he’s drunk so it’s a given. Eventually gets horny, takes you away to show you how much he really loves you😌

Gaz ☕️

Gaz would be basic like Ghost, it’s gonna be in the summer, in a tent. Pastel colours, and lots of eucalyptus. His suit would either be black or blue, I don’t know much about Gaz sorry, so I don’t know exactly what he would be like but would get drunk with soap and you, definitely would smoke a blunt later, get high and have the bestest sex ever. 😩🥵

Price🥃

This is literally based off of what I want for my wedding, bc I wanna marry this man’s and Ik it’s very much him, ferns and outdoorsy vibes, it’s when the daisy are in bloom (June, I think) or spring I can’t decide. It’s on he’s dad’s property, surrounded by forest. He’s an old man, so he’ll keep it traditional, your wedding band was his mother’s. his suit is a 3 piece navy blue tweed. Hands never leave you, and always looking at you with pure adoration also can’t stop kissing you. When the sunsets, he takes you to the horses on the property and y’all ride over to the hunting cabin in the woods, and he worships you all night. 🤭😏

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edoro · 7 months ago

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dunmeshi spoilers below the cut, just thinking some thoughts about Thistle post-canon

i've seen more than one post about the idea of him getting back into the role of jester/musician for Laios's court, and while it's cute, the more i think about it the more i feel like... i don't think that he'd want to and i honestly don't think that he should

Thistle was, in many ways, objectified and used by the Melinis, and i think understanding that is important to understanding his character

from the very beginning, Freinag wanted an elven servant to make himself look more impressive. his advisors didn't want him falling under the sway of an adult, so they found a child who could be made safe and harmless and raised to be loyal to the court rather than having pre-existing loyalties, and they said, "here, having him as your jester will be impressive on its own."

Thistle was brought - most likely literally bought, and if not still given to the king as a gift - to the court to be a living status symbol. first and foremost, he was something exotic and cool that the king could show off. he was a conversation piece, a belonging, a pet. he was Freinag's son the same way my cat is my son; i don't doubt there was genuine affection there, but Thistle wasn't a person in that relationship.

being a jester is part of that objectification. it's another thing that made him safe and harmless. he's not a scheming elf or a potential threat, he's just a silly little guy wearing curly shoes and playing the lute. there's nothing to worry about, because he has no status or influence, he's just here to entertain.

and i don't know how much Thistle... liked that. he was deeply loyal to Freinag and Delgal and wanted badly to be useful and earn their regard, especially Delgal's. he definitely did seem to see Delgal as a little brother who he needed to protect and take care of, even when Delgal was a grown man. but did he actually enjoy being an object of entertainment?

it's hard to tell because he's spent 1000 years having holes eaten in his brain until his personality is incredibly warped from what it originally was, but one thing about Thistle is that i don't get the impression he likes to be laughed at or not taken seriously. that one bit during the dragon fight in his house, where he says he'll let Laios choose which dragon kills him and then gets mad when Laios says, "really?" - to me, that reads as if he thinks Laios is being sarcastic, and it pisses him off.

during that battle in the dungeon, when he has Delgal gather the residents of the castle and surrounding area and then sics monsters on their enemies, then heals that kid's dead dad and realizes everyone is staring at him, he seems nervous, suddenly aware of what he's just done and that the people seem fearful of him - it doesn't come across like someone who's comfortable being the center of attention, and it implies some very fascinating things about just how aware Thistle is of how suspicious the people around him are of elves in general, which in turn could imply some fascinating things about how he sees his role as jester and his own relationship with being Safe And Harmless -

but i digress a bit. the point is, we get a couple of indications that he's touchy about his own dignity, doesn't like being laughed at, and isn't necessarily comfortable in front of a crowd. we also know from extras (and just kind of his overall demeanor throughout the story) that he has no sense of humor and is terrible at jokes. all of this combines to, frankly, paint a picture of someone who isn't well-suited to being a jester at all

it's one thing to be fun and entertaining as a kid. he wanted to fit in, he wanted love, he wanted to be cared for, and he doesn't stop wanting those things as he gets older, but his sense of dignity and understanding of his position change and develop. being a pet curiosity as a child might not be so bad, but as a teenager? as an adolescent growing towards adulthood?

the Melinis used Thistle. Freinag used him as a status symbol and entertainment. Delgal used him as a confidante and magician and tried to make Thistle solve his fears and problems for him. Thistle destroyed himself trying to do what Delgal begged him to do.

so given all of that, i don't think that Thistle becoming a jester or entertainer for Laios would suit him well. it would just be trading one position of objectification for another. i think the best post-canon outcome for him would be to find a way to exist where he's not being used by anyone and he can explore and develop his own identity outside of the comfort and utility he brings to others.

#dunmeshi #thistle

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underwaterl · 5 months ago

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My Dungeon Meshi Timeline Docs

I spent some ridiculous amount of time re-arranging the series according to the timeline given in World Guide: Adventurer's Bible and this Timeline is the result.

That's actually just the link to part 1/14 of all the docs (cause I put the whole series in, idk why honestly). The contents of each file (they all have table of contents for navigation) are as followed:

Table of Contents

0. [300-500] The Past

World maps Ancient time (Demon's Origin) -500 (Thistle & Delgal in old Merini) 304-500 (Mostly characters' births, from Tansu Floke the oldest to Leed the youngest, and some events like Mithrun's Dungeon, Senshi in the Dungeon, Utaya and the childhood of Marcille, Laios and Falin)

[501-14/3/514] The events before Dungeon Meshi

Marcille and Falin's academy time Izutsumi's childhood Chilchuck's career and marriage life Laios and Falin's arrival at the Island The formation of Laios' party and the way they worked before DM

2. [15-19/3/514] Hotpot - Orcs

16/3 - Falin got eaten, Laios' party went back and met Senshi 17/3 - Met Doni & Fionil 18/3 - Laios got Kensuke 19/3 - Met the Golems & Orcs I put in Senshi's diary and the menu for each day

3. [20-21/3/514] Treasure Bugs & Kabayaki

20/3 - Kabru's group lost to treasure bugs, Laios met Thistle in paintings 21/3 - Laios got parasite, Kabru's group defeated again, got revived and killed the corpse retriever then met and travelled with Shuro's group

4. [22-24/3/514] Grilled Kelpie & Falin's Revival

22/3 - Met Tansu's group 23/3 - Made Frog suits 24/3 - Killed the Red Dragon and revived Falin

5. [24/3-3/4/514] Red Dragon Meal - Faligon

24/3 - Dinner with Dragon's meat 25/3 - Thistle turned Falin into a Chimera, met Leed 26-28/3 - Laios' group nearly starved 29/3 - 2/4 - Marcille got petrified 3/4 - Busy day, Faligon appeared, Laios & Shuro fought, Kabru & everyone returned to the surface and then some

6. [3-5/4/514] The Canaries - Barometz

3/4 - Kabru met the Canaries, chaos in F1, Thistle got injured and Kabru fell down to F6 with Mithrun 4/4 - Laios' group met Izutsumi, Kabru & Mithrun picked up Laios' group's packs, Thistle healed his wound 5/4 - Marcille's nightmare, met Ice Golem, Kabru & Mithrun picked Barometz

7. [6-9/4/514] Falin saving plan - Changlings

6/4 - Went to the Golden Kingdom, Kabru & Mithrun stole Griffin's egg 7/4 - Left the Golden Kingdom, had Griffin soup and stepped into Changlings, Kabru & Mithrun changed races, Thistle extracted Yaad's soul 8/4 - Changed races, got through the door, the Canaries reached Kabru & Mithrun, they all went through the door 9/4 - Laios's group met giant Changling, Kabru & Canaries wandered and defeated Dullahan, Thistle stayed at Golden Kingdom

8. [10-11/4/514] Bicorn - Curry

10/4 - Met Bicorn & Succubi, Laios met Winged Lion in dream 11/4 - Got to Thistle's house, freed the Winged Lion (Thistle & MIthrun noticed), almost died facing Dungeon Rabbit

9. [12-13/4/514] Laios (killing Falin) - Marcille's Dream

12/4 - Made curry for Falin, Thistle got home with Falin, Laios killed her, Thistle called Dragons, Laios managed to subdue him, Thistle got eaten by Winged Lion 13/4 - Another busy day. Met Kabru & Canaries, Marcille became Dungeon Master (Dungeon structure changed)

10. [13-14/4/514] Marcille

13/4 - Falin got frozen, Flamela gave order to find and defeat Laios, they won against the Giant Familiar and reunited with Marcille (negotiation failed) 14/4 - Local Cuisine™, Marcille vs Canaries (& everyone), Laios' group got through to Marcille

11. [15/4/514] Winged Lion - Desire

15/4 - Laios' group got eaten by Winged Lion, the strongest ultimate monster ate Winged Lion (Dungeon collapsed)

12. [16/4/514-etc]

16/4 - Laios became King of Merini, Faligon Feast started, the Golden Kingdom surfaced 24/4 - Faligon Feast ended, revived Falin 27/4 - Falin woke up And all the little stories about the days to come

13. Appendix

The Timeline from World Guide: Adventurer's Bible Birthdays of Characters (sorted by month) Menus of Dungeon Meshi/Senshi's Diary Elves (Marcille, Thistle, Mithrun) & Hair styles (this part is w.i.p, I collected them all but haven't really sorted through)

Some notes:

I put the whole series in (and i feel pretty guilty about it, please support official sources) so you can actually do a reread of Dungeon Meshi in chronological order (I think that's the right word idk)

The translations of the manga and extra material pages are mostly English but the titles, appendix, table of contents and some litlle notes by me are all in Vietnamese (it seems back then I think of only sharing it with VN fandom, and I don't think I would want to translate them to English anytime soon)

The translations are from various sources (official, EHScan, Savaralyn and wibunomanland (Vietnamese), etc...)

There are 14 docs in total (I originally thought there would be like 3 or 4 but putting the whole series in didn't turn out so well)

Beside timeline-ing, I also tried to put the callbacks, flashbacks together whenever they appears

There's multiple little errors now that I look back, but I hope you can work it out with the context (my hyperfixation dwindled I'm sorry)

This thing started simply because I wanted to have just the Kabru Mithrun 6 days adventure right next to Laios's party adventure (visually cause I somehow couldn't really wrap my head around it) and then the timeline that Kui-sensei laid out carefully down to the days and meals that Laios party had in the Dungeon made me really want to put it down somehow, so that happened

And a photo for funsies (do you know that different covers with different fonts can give you more details of the backgrounds, why did Kui have to be so hardcore and do both the characters and the backgrounds anyway, hopefully we get an artbook someday so I can see Mithrun and the Canaries hidden behind Laios' ass in Volume 14's cover).

#dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi spoilers #delicious in dungeon #dungeon meshi meta #laios touden #marcille donato #senshi of izganda #chilchuck tims

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resowrites · 2 years ago

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Suddenly It Happened - oneshot (request).

Summary: Henry’s longtime personal assistant wonders if he’ll ever return her feelings…

Pairings: AU!Henry Cavill x Reader

Warnings: fluff, slight angst, brief mention of relationship difficulties, nondescript OC body type/appearance, hastily written/lightly proofread.

WC: 2040

A/N: My work must not be copied, reposted, or translated elsewhere. Likes, follows, reblogs and comments are thoroughly welcome and appreciated! Gifs/pics not my own. I hope you all enjoy and thanks for visiting!

Suddenly It Happened - oneshot.

The door to the waiting area closed softly. She looked up to see her boss, smiling casually as he motioned for her to join him. The meeting with his publicist lasted only half an hour but she still had to drive him into central London for a day of press. Naturally, he was dressed to the nines and looking as handsome as ever. She sighed as she got into the car, wondering how despite his ever-increasing popularity, he’d managed to remain single. She'd worked closely with him for the last five years, doing all manner of tasks, many far out of her purview as a personal assistant. But Henry wasn't like the other celebrities she'd met. He was kind, humble, and undemanding, the sort of man she'd always dreamed of meeting but knew was way out of her league. Her personality was very much like his own but whereas his looks were talked about and admired the world over, she was plain and bookish. Hardly his type. But that didn't stop her from daydreaming occasionally or stealing a loving glance. She knew nothing would ever happen, and she was far too serious about her job to ever risk being so stupid. Yet still, she wondered. He looked over at her from the passenger seat, his gaze as warm as his smile. She kept her eyes firmly on the road ahead "Tell me again where we're headed first?"

"The Thistle Hotel, you'll be there hopefully no more than a couple of hours. Did you manage to look over the list of questions I emailed you last night?" His smile grew wider.

"Yep, seems pretty standard stuff. Thanks for making sure there were no personal questions, though I must admit it gets a bit tedious being asked about Kal all the time..." She uncomfortably cleared her throat but otherwise said nothing. "You're still coming to the premiere next week aren't you?"

"Of course, wouldn't miss it."

"Great, you know how uncomfortable I get at those things. All those flashing lights, the shouting, the hordes of people..."

"Well, don't worry. We'll whip you through it all pretty quickly." She tried to smile reassuringly.

"Thanks, I really appreciate it. And thanks for being with me today."

"No problem. It's what I'm here for." Her voice sounded thick as she finished her sentence and she hoped she hadn't come across too awkwardly.

"No, I'm serious. You make this job a thousand times easier and I don't thank you enough for it." She smiled again but remained silent. "... Are you okay?" Her brow furrowed.

"Of course, why?"

"I dunno, you just seem a little quiet." She tried hard not to blush. Being under such close scrutiny always made her cringe.

"Oh, no I'm fine. Just running through today's checklist in my mind. I've got to email Armani's head office again, your suit for the premiere still hasn't arrived." Henry chuckled softly.

"Well, relax. You work hard enough, and I can always find another suit." She shook her head, amused. "What?!"

"It's not quite that straightforward." He harrumphed.

"Well, it ought to be. I mean it though, don't run yourself ragged--"

"Well, I wouldn't be much of a personal assistant if I didn't." She gave a tired smile and he considered her for a moment. Eventually, she had to look away. "So, who are you taking to the premiere besides your family?" Why had she asked such a thing? She felt her face turn crimson, annoyed that her desperation to change the subject had caused her to well and truly put her foot in it. She certainly had every right to know, but it was information usually offered up by the client first.

"Er, I'm not really sure at the moment..." Henry returned to looking out the passenger window and she could have kicked herself. What did it matter who he invited anyway? She knew he dated around and would probably turn up on the arm of some young starlet. For a moment she both loathed and envied them. She'd worked hard all her life for very little in return. When could she expect the happiness she read about in her books or saw in the films she watched? A melancholy thought then entered her head, that being a personal assistant was the closest she'd ever get to someone like Henry. And she supposed that was fair enough. Surely someone as rich and handsome as him deserved someone equally beautiful and successful? She caught her reflection in her wing mirror and stared crossly at it. There was no use in her pining and indulging selfish thoughts. She had a job to do. Today was all about Henry. "Did you manage to get a table at La Cuchina?"

"Yep, in the private section at your usual table." She relaxed somewhat at the thought of having lunch with him, in private he was great company to be around, always joking and telling stories.

"Brilliant, to tell you the truth I'm already famished." She suddenly remembered the bagel and pecan brownie she'd picked up at Starbucks earlier that morning just in case. Henry had a habit of missing breakfast and she hated the thought of him going hungry.

"Reach in the glove box, I picked you up something from Starbucks." His face lit up and he happily munched away as they came closer to the hotel. As was her custom on press days, she then moved on to her usual pep talk. "Now remember to relax and have fun, we've kept the questions light and entertaining so just keep your answers brief and focused."

"Is that your way of telling me I'm long-winded?" She shifted in her chair, not quite willing to meet Henry's mischievous gaze.

"Of course not, but I know you get carried away. Especially on your favourite subjects..."

"And what might those be?"

"Well, you do love your history for starters--"

"Oh, that reminds me, I read that one you recommended about Port Royal in the eighteenth century." She glowed inwardly at the thought of him reading something she'd enjoyed.

"Oh yeah, what did you think?"

"It was fascinating... do you think I could play a pirate?" She choked on the bottle of water she was sipping from. "I take that as a 'no?'"

"Well... you might have to drop the accent." They smiled at each other. "Anyway you'd get completely obsessed in the research and muggins here would be sent off on all manner of errands--"

"And when have I ever made you do those?!"

"Are you kidding?! The guys in the Warhammer store know me by name!"

"Ooh I wonder if James will be interviewing me again?"

"Yes, he is, but remember to stay on track--"

"You call me obsessed, that guy knows everything there is to know. I wonder if he got the custom model I sent him a couple of weeks back?"

"He did, he sent a card to the office, didn't I tell you?"

"No... though you have seemed a little distracted lately." Her brow furrowed, but she didn't get a chance to respond. "How are things going with Simon?" She was afraid Henry would bring him up. Her six-month on-and-off relationship was the last thing she wanted to discuss. The truth was she hadn't heard from Simon for several weeks.

"Fine," she said a bit too quickly.

"... Is he joining you at the premiere? You know you're allowed to bring a guest."

"No, he's... busy." The next couple of minutes were swallowed up by an uneasy silence.

"Oh, that's a shame. It's a big night for you though, what could he possibly have to do that's more important?" She bristled slightly at the question and decided it was best not to respond. "You know, you're a good person. You deserve someone who treats you well." She felt a curious mixture of embarrassment and delight.

"Nah, I'm nothing special. Besides, I'm married to the job..."

"Tell me about it, I have the exact same problem." She couldn't help but scoff.

"Oh come on, someone like you could have anyone. I bet you're spoiled for choice."

"What do you mean?"

"Well it's just, you know, you're... you. Who wouldn't want that?" She regretted the words the minute they came out of her mouth and her face flushed a deep crimson.

"You'd be surprised. People don't really love me they just love whatever image of me they have in their mind."

"And what makes you think you don't match up to that?"

"Well for one, I'm not always in such great shape." Was he joking? With him, it was sometimes hard to tell. "I think people expect me to be a lot more outgoing than I am as well." That part was certainly true, she'd definitely noticed how shy and introverted Henry could be.

"Well, I'm sure you'll meet the right person eventually." To this, he didn't reply and she began to wonder if she'd overstepped.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Why are you still working for me?" She blinked several times, at first wondering if she'd misheard him.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean you're an intelligent, hard-working woman, don't you have an economics degree?" She hardly knew how to respond. If she explained the real reason she kept working for him he could very well leap from a moving car.

"I dunno, I like what I do I guess." Another thought then crossed her mind. "Why? Are you unhappy with my services?"

"No, of course not! You're the best. I'd be totally lost without you. I just... hope I'm not holding you back." Did he mean to keep sending mixed signals? One minute he was singing her praises and the next he was questioning why she was even in his employ.

"To be honest... I have thought about moving on." Henry snapped round to face her.

"What? Why?!"

"Cos you're right, it's not very ambitious of me to keep spinning my wheels."

"But... but I need you." She felt her heart begin to thump.

"Oh stop, you could train a chimp to do what I do."

"... Pull over."

"What? Why? Henry, we're going to be late." But his hand pointed towards a free parking space free on the left-hand side of the road. Reluctantly, she reversed into it and came to a stop. They then sat there quietly for several moments. "Henry, we really need to get going."

"... Do you hate me?"

"What? Look, we really don't have time for this, you can't miss your first interview--"

"Sod the bloody interview!" Henry's outrage almost made her jump. "Answer the question." She sighed and took the key out of the ignition, figuring they were going to be there for a while.

"No of course I don't hate you, you're one of the nicest people I've ever known." He worked his jaw, clearly choosing his next words carefully.

"... So will you go with me?"

"With you? Where to?"

"The premiere." She stared at Henry, utterly confused.

"I already said I was! Now let's get going, otherwise, we're going to get stuck in traffic." But he put his hand over hers, causing it to jerk away from the steering wheel.

"No, I mean... will you go with me? As my guest?" The look in her eyes was blank at first and then almost tearful. She felt the heat rise in her cheeks and a horrible pit open in her stomach. She snapped off her seatbelt and bolted from the car. "Wait, where are you going?!" For nearly five minutes, Henry chased after her, eventually catching her by the wrist when she turned to head down a quiet side street. "W-where do you think you're going?!" He leaned over for a moment out of breath and she was surprised to realise she'd outrun him.

"I'm sorry... I just needed some air."

"What? Why? Did I upset you?" She bit her quivering lip.

"You know it's not very nice to tease me. I know I'm just a plain Jane from the office but it really hurt my feelings. Please don't do anything like that again." Henry just gawped at her, dumbfounded.

"You think I was joking?" But this time she felt indignation rise up through her stomach.

"Well, aren't you?!"

"Of course not!" She tried to read his expression but then backed away and scoffed.

"Don't be ridiculous - what could you possibly see in me?!" The look on Henry's face was pitiful.

"... I see the sweet, gentle-natured woman who's put up with me for half a decade and gone above and beyond not only to help me but to be my friend when I've needed one most. There are so few people I can trust but with you, I can always be myself. I can't promise it'll be easy, but if you'll have me, I really hope you can be more than just a friend..." She hardly knew what to think, say, or do. These sorts of things just didn't happen, and she had a horrible feeling the trapdoor was going to open any minute.

"But... but why me?" It was his turn to look confused.

"Well, why not you? You're everything I've ever wanted. But, if you still have feelings for someone else--" she didn't let Henry finish. Instead, she threw herself into his arms and they spent the next few minutes kissing amidst the throng of passersby.

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#henry cavill #henry cavill fandom #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill x reader

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