#Arthur is not immune to puppy eyes | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

supercantaloupe · 2 years

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Hi! Please tell me more about Damon Daunno's Curly because I've only seen Arthur Darvill's!

omg yes okay. he is sooo so good, pitch perfect casting, to the point where i wonder if the show would have taken off as much as it did if he were not the face of the show when he was

like for one thing we all know damon daunno is good looking and we all know he has an incredible voice, and both those things do definitely add up to make his curly so great. but there's also something about the way he plays the character that makes me go nuts. like he is an incredibly loveable and captivating guy for the first hour of the show, with this sweet, easygoing, teasing but not immune to being teased back attitude that is just. so charming. it's hard not to fall in love with him in the beginning. and then damon's curly is someone who knows what he's doing, all his choices are deliberate, though they're sometimes (often) made up on the fly, consequences be damned. and that comes through when he's sweet with laurey, and it comes through when he's being threatening with jud. it's kind of amazingly disorienting when you get to the smokehouse and you hear him talk and sing, cause his mannerism is totally different, except it's not, it's the same charming guy, but he just isn't being so sweet anymore. it's frightening to see that side of him come out when you thought you had him figured out already. he's charming, for better and for worse.

and i think the combo of damon's performance revealing that dark side of curly's personality with how attractive/charming damon is as a person (and how lovely his voice is) make for a fascinating interpretation of the character. i've talked about it in other posts before but in comparing his curly to sean grandillo on the tour, i was really struck by how...abrasive/unlikeable other curlys are to me? and yet damon's curly walks such a fine line between innocent and guilty that, even watching him do all this threatening and violent stuff, even when he kills a man, i still found myself liking him, and feeling some kind of sympathy for him. without absolving him of his guilt. he's a complex man, infectiously charming and loveable, and frightening at the same time, but then he sings a bit or gets that sad puppy dog look in his eye again or smiles just right and you can't help but still love him, even while knowing exactly who he is and what he's capable of.

and imo the tension inherent to the "protagonist is demonstrably terrible, but the audience still can't help but like him anyway, but by the end they see him in a new light and are more wary now than before" vibe of damon's curly is exactly what the show is about. and i think it takes a very skilled and particular actor not just to pull that off but to do it well enough to carry a show as bold as this from workshop to off broadway to broadway (and then beyond). i think sexy oklahoma, conceptually, is a HARD sell, in hindsight; you need a very particular curly to make it work, to strike the right balance of "the point is he's a monster you never realized before now" and "but we still love him." and honestly i have yet to see or hear another performance that i think tops his (maybe one or two that come close or match it, but nothing surpassed yet).

obviously all of the above is just my opinion (and a three-year-old one at that, since i only saw the show with him once in 2019)!! but as someone who's been thinking Extensively about this show and that performance for the past three years i can say he really is definitive as curly for me. incredibly charming, for good and for bad.

also he's the only one with actually curly hair so i mean what more could you ask for

#sasha answers #sic-vita #ty!!#oklahoma!#damon daunno #ohhh how i wish i could have seen arthur darvill myself. i want to know what he's likeee #i want to see + hear it for myself. i wanna know how he's different #fwiw while damon is still my favorite so far i absolutely LOVE the fact that other actors + understudies #each get to do the role a little differently from each other #so the character is always fresh and unique #like i stg damon's curly is a straight up different character from sean's.#utterly FASCINATING.#i love it sm

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potter-imagines · 4 years

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Staying at the Burrow with your boyfriend Fred Weasley...

- Fred loathed his time away from Hogwarts on any break that you weren’t with him

- Since the Christmas of your fourth year, it has become a sort of tradition for you to going your boyfriend and his family for the holidays

- And if you would even suggest a change in plans, Fred would beg you otherwise

- “Y/n pleaseeee, angel? I already told my mum that you’re coming, and she already started knitting! You’ll break her heart!” “Okay fine, I’ll come but only for Molly.”

- It means the absolute world to Fred that you love his family and that his family loves you

- Ginny would await your arrival by the front door, practically buzzing with excitement

- Every time you visit the Burrow, you make sure to bring gifts for his family

- Your favorite person to give presents to is Arthur

- You always bring him some new muggle object that never fail to fascinate him

- “Oh, Molly! Y/n’s here- ooh I wonder what she’s brought for me this time! I hope it’s one of those clicky writers!” “You mean a pen, dear.” “Yes, yes, Molly, a pem!” “Arthur, no-“

- Most breaks Harry would also tag along which meant more players for your quidditch games

- Fred and George were usually team captain

- Fred always picked you first for his team

- Unless George got to pick first

- He would pick you just in spite of Fred, which usually caused petty bickering between the twins

- “Bloody hell, George! You pinky promised me you wouldn’t pick Y/n! You said I could have her-“ “Freddie, you spend almost 24 hours a day with her. She’s just on my team for one game!”

- George would playfully torture you two during the whole break with comments here and there

- “Hey dad, I saw Fred sneak Y/n into our room last night.” “George!” “…let’s just not tell your mother, understood?”

- Doing the dishes with Fred and having a bubble fight

- George wasn’t lying tho

- Fred would sneak you into his room almost every night

- Molly had caught you two a few times but she never brought it up

- Fred was nearly 18 and Molly absolutely adored you

- So she’d smile to herself and pretend she never saw a thing

- Going on walks with Ron and Harry

- A lot of cute little moments with Fred

- Like him giving you his sweater when you get cold at night

- He likes to draw pictures on your back when you’re cuddling as you try to guess what it is

- “Uh… I’m not sure, is it a flower?” “No, angel. It was an owl! Okay now guess this one…”

- George would constantly whisper shout at the two of you when he’s trying to sleep

- “Can you lovesick puppies shut up! Some of us are single and would rather be miserable in peace. I can’t handle all the cute lovey whispers, it’s bloody sickening! I’m ready to share a bed with Percy- that’s how bad it is.”

- This would cause Fred and yourself to erupt with laughter much to George’s displeasure

- Sneaking around the house to have some *cough* private time

- Making out in his backyard

- Fred doesn’t like when you go for walks alone outside the house

- Times are tense and you’re the last person, besides a family member, that he could afford to lose

- He’ll always walk by your side and crack jokes just so he can hear you laugh

- Whether he realizes it or not, whenever you two go walking together Fred will always hold your hand and swing it back and forth

- He loves kissing your knuckles and the back of your hand

- He’s honestly so sweet when he’s not putting 24 hour color changing hair dye in your shampoo

- You’ve spent so many Christmas’ at the Weasley’s that Molly has a stocking for you and a gift ready every time

- Fred purposely places mistletoes around the house for you two to ‘conveniently’ meet under

- “Fred! You know I’m your girlfriend so you can kiss me whenever, right?” “But this is more romantic, darling! You’re the first girl I’ve ever kissed under a mistletoe- and the only, and last girl I want to kiss for my whole life. I’d like to continue that tradition.” “Well how can I say no to that?”

- Fred will literally take any chance offered to kiss you

- George loves to annoy the two of you by squeezing in the middle of your cuddles

- “George! You git, get out of here!” “But I need some love too!” “Yeah, find it with a girl who isn’t my girlfriend!”

- Fred will make you coffee or tea each morning, whichever you prefer

- Making hot chocolate together for the whole family during winters at the Burrow

- Marshmallow mustaches

- You kiss the marshmallows off Fred’s mouth, running your tongue along his upper lips which causes a deep scarlet blush to slap his cheeks

- “How do you like it when the tables are turned, Fred?” “I quite like it actually… that was hot.” “Fred!”

- During winter, you guys will have snowball fights outside with all the Weasley siblings plus Harry, and Hermione

- You and Fred have a competition on who can make the biggest snow man

- Your relationship is built off humor, friendship, and love so there is not a day that passes by where tears aren’t pouring from your eyes out of laughter

- Fred likes to wake you up by jumping on you and attacking your face with little pecks

- “Wake up, angel! I’ve been waiting ten minutes for you to get up but I couldn’t wait any longer now c’mon!”

- Fred loves to watch you get ready for the day

- Oddly enough, his favorite part is your makeup routine (if you wear any)

- It’s such a foreign world to him, he’s amazed by all the different products and how you can tell them all apart

- “Freddie, baby, can you hand me my mascara?” “Uh... sure?”

- Hands you your concealer

- He just wants to help!

- He teaches you how to ice skate out on the pond

- Loves kissing your frozen red cheeks when you two come inside after being in the snow

- Will boop your nose

- You spend a lot of time with Ginny on breaks

- She looks up to you greatly, so she gets so excited when you stay with the Weasley’s

- “Y/n, Y/n, you’re here! Come, put your stuff in my room! We can have a sleepover-“ “Wow, Ginny, hadn’t realized Y/n was your girlfriend and not mine.” “Shut up, Fred.”

- You help Fred and George play pranks on differently family members

- Molly is typically the only one that is immune from these pranks

- All three of you are far too terrified to make her angry

- You will often rummage through Fred’s closet instead of opening your suitcase

- And when he catches you in the act

- Fred will chase you around the house

- “That’s my jumper! Oh you’re in for it, Y/l/n!”

- Some days at the Burrow, Fred and you barely get out of bed

- Especially on rainy days

- The sound of raindrops pounding against the roof of the house was comforting, the warm embrace of Fred had that effect on its own even without the rain

- Maybe once a trip, you guys will take the car into town

- It’s a bit of a drive so the Weasley’s don’t like to make more trips than necessary

- Molly refuses to hand the keys to either of the twins and will only give them to you

- She doesn’t trust the twins not the wreck the car

- Every trip to the Burrow, you find yourself growing closer to your boyfriend

- You spend every day together at school, but being outside of the castle is a little different

- You have more freedom, more choices

- It makes the both of you thrilled about graduating and moving in together

- Fred can’t wait for the day he is able to spend every day with you by his side

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rotten-games · 3 years

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How resistant are the ROs to puppy dog eyes? I bet the wolf siblings can dish out brutal puppy eyes considering they’re you know 🐺 .

Perhaps they do. I can neither confirm nor deny 😌

RotT

Immune:

Korrin, Nox, Severa

There are easier ways to convince them but it will work eventually:

Ardwen, Cal, Druvel, Gwyn, Keller, Necrolym, Qora

W E A K:

Arke, Bex, Emil, Ettia, Herron, Lokeira, Spotter

CoI

Immune:

Carol,

Easier ways to convince them:

Allard, Harley, Doc, Arthur, Saga, Perci,

W E A K:

Lowrie, Ridley, Deimos, Adrastea, Dagda

Specifically on Mordred: for mc 1 he doesn't find the puppy eyes very compelling UNTIL he some kind of romantic interest in them. For mc 2 he is weak constantly. Deoending on the prior relationship it could be because mc 2 annoys him with it or because his heart cant take it. Or a bit of both.

#rott game #coi game #ros

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inkribbon796 · 4 years

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Useless Bravery

Summary: Virgil wants to be a real hero despite his fears and past. So he decides that, if he’s going to be a good guy, he needs to stop working with the bad guys. Something that gets complicated when the villain life isn’t quite done with him.

A/N: I like to imagine Dark sees a bit of himself in Virgil, hence the excessive force and tough love.

Virgil knew he had to face him eventually, the rest of the heroes already knew. He just had to look Dark in the eye and . . .

. . . Virgil was already getting sweaty palms. He was pretty sure this was going to end with Dark trying to stab him in the heart, and he was torn between bringing someone with him and sneaking off.

But he didn’t want anyone else to get hurt, so he decided to go alone.

Anxiety was hardly the only one to do so, Eric made a habit of sneaking off like a rebellious teenager every so often, and hell knew where Marvin disappeared off to sometimes.

In the end, Virgil put on his dark cloak and picked a time during the day, a point where him slipping off for a “breath of fresh air'' wouldn’t be questioned by anyone. He started wandering, not sure how to approach Dark without being shot by one of his flunkies.

After some thought and wandering, and what felt like eyes from the dark abyss boring into his soul, he stopped in front of a traditional Korean restaurant that Dark used as a front for “business meetings” and Virgil figured Dark would see him coming.

Awkwardly, Virgil walked into the restaurant, already noticing one of the waiters spotting him as he was talking to a patron and leaning into his collar to whisper something.

“Hey,” Virgil said to the hostess who didn’t seem to bat an eye at his presence. She just looked him up and down.

“Do you have a reservation?” She asked curtly.

Virgil mentally stalled a bit, but he managed, “Well the big guy wanted to talk to me, so I guess I do.”

“Right this way, Sir,” she smiled at him and led him to the same upstairs room he’d last met Dark in. The only difference was that Dark was waiting for him, sitting in a comfy dining chair across a table, his aura lightly ringing at the edge of Virgil’s hearing.

“Anxiety,” Dark smiled as Virgil walked in. “How nice to see you again. I was half afraid you’d forgotten our little arrangement.”

Dark gestured to the chair across from him, “Take a seat, a waiter will be along shortly.”

Virgil already felt the need to run, or jump out the window, “I don’t think I’ll be here long enough for that.”

The mob boss stood, the slim shadow — or a mockery — of a smile at the corners of his mouth, “I suppose you’re right.”

“An’ I didn’t forget,” Virgil tried to act braver than he was, trying to channel Logan or Janus a bit. “I just wanted to be sure.”

“Of?” Dark urged, taking a couple of steps forward so he was closer, Virgil yelped and felt his heart trying to drop out of his chest and run away when he felt something curling around his left ankle.

Virgil took a couple deep breaths, trying to control his racing heart. Finally he blurted out, “Arthur’s dead.”

Then he braced to get hit, screwing his eyes just.

But that didn’t happen. Not even close.

Dark just let out this amused little cackle, the grip around his ankle tightening just a little, “Oh little Anxiety, I might not remember all the little details of our last encounter at the base, but my enforcer is alive and well.”

“Hate to tell you you’re barking up the wrong tree, but you are,” Virgil said, shaking his ankle free. He wasn’t lying, not technically. The guy was dead as a doornail, but the Host still breathed and walked anyways. “You’re mistaking someone else for him.”

“Who?” Dark seemed way too happy for someone who was most likely furious at Virgil. All kinds of red flags were waving in Virgil’s mind.

“Like I’d give you another hero’s identity,” Virgil told him, then summoning up every brave fiber in his body, he proclaimed, “Look if you’re going to kill me, just do it already. Not like it’s going to change the fact that the guy’s dead.”

“Kill you?” Dark let out this chilling cackle that just unnerved the anxious Side down to the bone. “Now why would I kill a useful little Trojan horse like you?”

Something in Virgil felt like he’d been stabbed, “What?”

Dark’s smile seemed to become twisted, inhuman. “Use that brain of yours for five seconds, Virgil, why would I let an opportunity like you go? It was obvious from even the first second that you didn’t belong with us and initially I’d planned to let you go with nothing more than a bloodied back and some lacerations. Then I had two of my own disappear and there you were, just needing a little push out of the nest.”

“What—” Virgil felt like the world was caving in on him. “What did you do to me?”

“Oh nothing,” Dark grinned. “Nothing short of shaving all the skin off your body won’t solve. I just infused you with a spell that discreetly went off when Anti and Mare used that device to possess you. So that every time you entered or left the base, my aura would be left behind. So I could get in easier. That last encounter at the base I was so close, I can feel it. J.J’s never had to reset me seven times before. Either he’s been getting more powerful, or I’ve been slacking.”

“You fucker!” Virgil shouted. “That wasn’t part of the deal!”

“You don’t make open deals with the devil, sweetheart,” Dark scoffed.

“I didn’t make an open deal, I promised to find someone, not sneak you in!” Virgil shouted in an angry panic.

“I do have to congratulate you on such an authentic performance, I knew that kicked puppy dog look would do wonders on them,” Dark smiled, clearly ignoring Virgil’s outburst.

“You bastard!” Virgil spat. “You lying son of a bitch!”

He got punched in the gut by Dark’s aura for that last one.

“A pity no one ever taught you manners,” Dark warned, watching Virgil cough violently. “Deceit was always the best you four had to offer.”

“You lied to me,” Virgil accused. “They were all lies, weren’t they?”

Dark had the gall to look like a proud cat that had been caught devouring a cage full of prized birds. “Did you like it, maybe I should lay on the grief and betrayal more? Do you think the other heroes would buy it?”

“You monster,” Virgil snarled. “Don’t you dare touch them.”

“If they hadn’t been harboring my enforcers, they would be minding their own business and chasing their tails, but no they had to steal from me!” Dark threatened, his aura and echoes shattering briefly to remind Virgil that Dark was actually furious.

“I told you he’s dead,” Virgil insisted.

Dark’s aura started to slowly envelope the room, the ringing hurt Virgil’s ears to the point he was afraid they’d start bleeding. “I wonder how much I have to hurt you before you tell me the truth? And best of all I can just dump your unconscious body in front of their base and they’d just take you back in a heartbeat.”

“No!” Virgil felt a pulse of fear whip out of him before he could decide to use it, Dark seemed unaffected.

“I’m all but immune to you now,” Dark warned proudly. “Your little magic trick barely worked on me to begin with.”

“Get away from me!” Virgil tried to back out of Dark’s aura but it seemed to be everywhere. “Get away—”

He was spiraling into a panic attack, realizing how thoroughly trapped he was. He berated himself on coming alone. “What kind of idiot comes alone to talk to Dark?” he thought to himself critically.

“Now,” Dark took another step, Virgil panicked and tried to keep some kind of distance between them.

“Where,” he took another step, forcing Virgil to take a second retreating step or two.

“Are,” Dark’s next step made Virgil’s back hit the wall, “they?”

“He’s not,” Virgil’s voice caught in his throat, “I don’t.”

“Shame that Deceit never taught you how to lie properly,” Dark’s hand gripped onto the bottom of his chin, his black nails digging into Virgil’s skin, producing a squeak of terror from him. “You will tell me what I want to know, Virgil.”

At that second Virgil felt something like hands grip his ankles and Virgil screamed so loud his voice almost went completely hoarse as he was pulled down into what looked like complete darkness. He closed his eyes and hit the side of something hard.

Virgil was in a full panic at this point, screaming and curling himself into a tight ball, his eyes closed tightly.

“—going to bring down the neighborhood.”

Virgil felt a hand on his back and started whimpering, trying to get whoever was touching him to let go. Mental sirens going off. Let go! Let go! I’m going to die! He’s going to kill me!

Mercifully the hand pulled away from him but the sheer knowledge that Dark lurking around him had him still spiraling.

“Virgil?”

They’re not going to find my body! Do Sides even leave bodies? What idiot comes alone to meet Dark?

“Virgil?”

That time the voice got through to him, and Virgil looked through tear-blurry eyes, sure that his eyeliner and eye shadow was running, and saw the black and yellow of Janus’s cloak.

“Virgil, it’s just me,” Janus reassured. “Can I touch you?”

“Dee,” Virgil chokes out, so relieved to see another Side. He threw himself at Janus, feeling so elated he started crying again.

Janus startled at the unexpected lunge but let Virgil hug him, rubbing circles into his back. “We have you now.”

“Dark!” Virgil suddenly remembered, still worked up into a panic. “We have to get out of here.”

“I need you to calm down, you remember your breathing right?” Janus reminded. “Would you like me to get you some ice.”

“No he’s here and he’s going to kill everyone,” Virgil told him.

“Virgil, where do you think you are?” Deceit asked, a bowl of ice chunks suddenly in his hand.

Startled a little, Virgil looked around and saw he was in the apartment he used to live in with the others.

“I need to get out of here,” Virgil blurted. “He can’t find me here.”

“Anxiety should relax,” the Host announced himself from where he was standing in the Sides’ kitchen. There was blood dripping from beneath his bandages. “So long as the Host is here, Anxiety and his friends are safe.”

“You!” Virgil growled, his voice echoing a bit. “Why don’t you own up to Dark for leaving instead of letting the heroes do it?”

“The Host cannot strike before things are ready,” the Host tried to reassure but Virgil was just so angry at him.

“We could have died!” Virgil shouted. “Why not just fight Dark if you’re so powerful?”

“Because the Host is selfish and knows when to pick his battles,” the Host answered. “The city has bigger problems than the Entity’s rogue parental instincts.”

“Did you know I was being tracked?” Virgil demanded.

“Honestly the Host didn’t expect it to keep being a problem, once Anxiety begins fusing ag—”

“No!” Virgil shouted. “I’m not going back there, I’ll let Dark in.”

The Host quiet for a bit, “Anxiety is fighting against the tides of fate and time, regardless of how long it takes, Virgil will rejoin the heroes.”

“Yeah well you also told Eric he was going to spill his coffee and then he didn’t,” Virgil accused. “I can’t keep betraying them if I never go back. You knew, you knew and never told me!”

“Anxiety is a constant unpredictable variable, and the Host will not apologize for doing what he thought was right,” the Host countered.

Maybe it was because he was rattled and angry, but the Host just reminded him so much of Dark in that moment. “You’re just selling all of them out. You want us all to die?”

“Anxiety is incorrect,” the Host responded, sounding angry. “The Host is interested in protecting his doctor. He will try to save those he considers allies and friends, but the Host’s Doctor is the Host’s top priority.”

“Get out!” Janus ordered.

Virgil flinched at Janus’s yell, taking a step away from him.

“You can take that care and consideration and walk back to Dark and the heroes and tell them all to fuck off,” Deceit hissed, glaring at the Host. “You don’t get to use him like that.”

“The Host has done no such thing,” the Host defended. “Anxiety was actually in danger and so the Host removed him, the Host would have not allowed actual harm to come to Anxiety. However, if his presence is undesirable, he will take his leave.”

“You should,” Janus agreed.

The Host’s narrations began to get more hushed and cluttered, his eyes starting to bleed again, then he was gone.

Immediately Janus turned back to Virgil, looking him over, “Are you hurt?”

Virgil shook his head, “Not really.”

Janus let out an angry hiss, “I’m going to find Logan and give him a piece of my mind. Logical one my ass.”

“No! No! No!” Virgil pleaded desperately. “I can’t go back. Dark put some tracker on me and I’ll kill everyone.”

“Where is it?” Janus asked, walking over to the closet and pulling out a dark purple weighted blanket, draping it over Virgil.

“I don’t know, but he’s using it to get into their base,” Virgil rambled, pulling the blanket closer around him and over his head. “I don’t want to help him. I don’t want to be the bad guy.”

Janus felt uncomfortable and heartbroken, but did his best to hide that. “Alright, I’ll see what I can do, if you don’t mind the fact that your bedroom might have been turned into Remus’s new art studio.”

“Ugh, I’ll sleep on the floor,” Virgil rolled his eyes. “The sooner I get this curse off me the better.”

“Oh trust me,” Janus smiled snakishly. “You obviously impose and your presence is clearly not welcome.”

“Shut up,” Virgil chuckled, punching Janus’s arm. The serpentine Side chuckled a bit, and Virgil looked away hesitantly. “Hey do you guys still have that shitty, awful knock-off Dr. Pepper?”

“What type of household do you think this is, young man?” Janus sounded scandalized as he walked over to the fridge and the whole thing shook when Janus pulled the door handle and shook again when Janus closed it. He did underhand a can of soda to the anxious Side. “What are they even feeding you over there?”

“Fruits and vegetables?” Virgil carefully held the can away from him, and more importantly his blanket, in case Remus had maliciously shaken all the cans. He looked around to see the couch oddly vacant of its usual occupant. “Where’s Agent Orange?”

“Hell if I know,” Janus dismissed, grabbing himself a drink as well. “Hopefully not getting into trouble, he’s been walking off a lot lately.”

“I hope he does get arrested, sometimes he creeps me out,” Virgil admitted. “Means I can crash on his couch without him standing over me and watching me sleep.”

“Just get some rest, Mr. Hero,” Janus told him. “When you wake up we’ll try and see if we can find that tracking spell.”

“What if Dark comes back?” Virgil asked.

“He won’t,” Janus promised, desperately hoping this one didn’t turn out to be the lie. “Sleep, rest, and everything will be better soon.”

It took awhile for Virgil to calm down enough to take a nap. It wasn’t that it was late in the day, but the anxious Side was exhausted and Janus wanted him and calm and rested for they tried anything involving Dark.

#Superhero AU #Masks and Maladies #Thomas Sanders #Markiplier #Virgil Sanders #Darkiplier #Janus Sanders #the Host #angst #Dark is a villain #Virgil makes a couple bad choices #Virgil has a panic attack #Janus is a bit protective

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sneakywitch-thief · 5 years

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Above the Clouds of Pompeii

Another work because why the hell not. I’m not sure if I’ll publish this to Ao3, but I’ll post it here for the time being. Hope you guys like it!

And I have been working on stuff, I assure you. A lot of shorter works to keep the creative juices flowing, sure, but my other fics are still there and not forgotten.

As for the work itself, I really love Sarah Lyons. Like a lot. We needed more Sarah in FO4, or at the very least some mention of her from Maxson, who adored her. So here’s a short work about young Arthur’s transformation into the Elder Maxson we all simultaneously hate and love from my fic, It Had To Be You.

Above the Clouds of Pompeii

“You’ll be fine,” Knight Danse said, brow furrowed in concentration as he ironed out the last wrinkle in the worn tuxedo. How the Knight even found the thing Arthur did not know, but the wastelander had a penchant for finding things. Then again, he had said he had been a junk collector or something or other, hadn't he?

Arthur swallowed a growing lump in his throat as he took the coat in his hands, running his hand over the fine black cloth. Stains of centuries still remained here and there, but still, the tux was undoubtedly the best thing he would ever wear. Carefully, so as not to break the seams he had so diligently mended, he slipped a gangling arm into the jacket.

As much as Danse and his husband had tried to tailor it, the sleeves still fell well short of the wrist and the shoulders almost painfully tight. Arthur rolled them, trying to find comfort in what felt more a corset than a waistcoat, and let out a cry of dismay as a seam on the shoulder popped wide open.

Danse simply let out a sigh and patted young Maxson on the split shoulder. “It's alright, and oh. I apologize for this in advance,” he said with a smile, grabbing him suddenly and steering him towards the door and through the corridors, dragging him to the bay serving as the marriage hall. “We are late enough as it is.”

“But--!” Arthur's voice cracked. He stopped in his tracks, but being the twiggy young thing he was, was dragged several feet before Danse even noticed. The young man pulled himself away, standing his ground with all the presence and courage of a puppy. He shook in his shoes, his face torn between defiance and shame.

“You worked so hard to give us all this, an actual ceremony. I went and ruined it. And, and how can I possibly face her like this? I can't do this, Danse, I just can't do this.”

“As your best man and best friend, I know you very well.” Danse stood tall, a brow raised as if daring him to question. “I know you can do this.”

Arthur slumped to the floor, burying his head in his arms. From between them came a muffled, choked, no.

The knight squatted before him, flicking the young Maxson squarely in the forehead. Arthur looked up then, in pain and deeply offended, and fell right into the Knight's trap.

Danse caught Arthur's beardless jaw in his hands, holding his face firmly facing his own. Arthur fought fiercely to look away, but the grown man was nearly twice his size and thrice his strength.

“You have fought countless battles, Arthur. You've proven yourself a valiant warrior and your bravery on the battlefield is unmatched. You've stared down a deathclaw and lived to tell the tale. Why, now on the day of your greatest victory, are you running?”

Arthur inhaled sharply and tried once more to wrench himself from the Knight's grasp. Unsuccessful, he stared intently at him until he finally managed to find the answer even he hadn't quite realized.

“... I'm afraid.”

“Afraid of what? Marriage?” Danse chuckled at that. “Aren't we all. But in all seriousness, Arthur Maxson. You should be happy, God knows how long you've been planning for this.”

Arthur was silent for a long moment.

“But what if I'm not enough for her? What if she doesn't love me? What if I lose her?”

“Bullshit.”

At that, Arthur stared. Despite their close friendship, Arthur was still a Maxson. The name demanded respect, which came easy to the straight-laced and dutiful knight. Profanity and disagreement, however, did not.

“I second that, actually. I did agree to marry you, didn't I?”

The voice was laughing, though more annoyed than anything. From behind the hulking form of the Knight stepped the Elder, or in the eyes of a stunned Arthur, an angel.

Though she looked more Sarah than Elder Lyons, it was no Sarah the Brotherhood had ever seen. Dressed uncharacteristically in a clumsily handsewn dress of the whitest white the Capital Wasteland could offer, she was far from the image of the blushing prewar bride. The wedding dress was torn in places and tied hastily above the knees. Her hair was freed from its usual bun, pinned atop her head in a messy cascade of golden ringlets and crowned with a dirty, tattered veil. She had run through the corridors in these ill-fitting clothes that had long since been thrown askew, and in doing so lost a shoe and half her updo. Her face, painted awkwardly, was already smeared and streaked with sweat.

“Usually the groom waits for the bride, right?” She asked Danse, panting. “Here I am, walking down an aisle with nobody in it. Ran around half the Citadel before I find you both wandering around. I thought you two had this all planned out.”

Arthur stared at her, enraptured in all her disarrayed beauty, and in seeing her all his doubt was gone. Indeed he had planned this for some time, for years. Each detail, each word, each step of their first dance. He had loved her since the first time he had learned what love was, and today he would announce to the world that he would love her until the day he died.

“Pre-wedding jitters,” replied Danse with a well-natured shrug as Arthur stared dumbly, “I had them, too.”

“We haven't got time for that, now do we.” Without a moment's hesitation Sarah had grabbed Arthur by the wrist and dragged him up to face her. She stood rigidly then, in her tattered dress and veil, despite all, Elder of the Brotherhood of Steel. “Well, Arthur Maxson, I order you to stop hemming and hawing and just marry me already.”

Love for her spewed from him then like a fountain, and with the largest of grins he saluted her. “Yes Elder,” said Arthur, blinking back his tears of joy, and married her.

She was all he saw during the vows, her smile, her laugh, all that he had loved since he had first laid eyes on her. He drank in her lips, her warm breath, as he kissed her for the first time at the altar. Everything was not as he had dreamt it, no, in fact all was so much better. Everything was perfect. She was perfect.

He danced with her now, the last before the Brotherhood was to return to its regular duties. All were long since drunk on booze and happiness aplenty, but none more than the young groom at the sight of his new wife. As he looked at her, nothing existed but her eyes, the feel of her arms on his shoulder, entwined with his. Sarah was, at last, his.

“Seriously?” Said Sarah after blowing the veil noisily from her face, recovering from yet another stumble. Her feet were more accustomed to battlefield maneuvers than dances, and she had stepped on her new husband's feet more than once. But her lead was well-practiced and twirled her elegantly and expertly, much to her dismay. Finally, she grabbed the accursed veil and flung it from her head into the crowd. The knights and scribes and squires all cheered as she shook out her hair wildly like the lioness she was.

The breath caught in Arthur's throat and his heart swelled. Oh, how he had loved her, how he still loved her. Each precious moment of their lives together he would burn into his heart, his flesh, his soul and this moment in particular set him aflame. Overcome with desire and love and everything in between, he leaned in and was promptly blocked by his beloved wife's hand. She stared at him, hard.

“You do realize I was going to appoint you Sentinel for your bravery after all this. But you went hiding somewhere instead. Is marrying me is scarier than going alone against a deathclaw? Well, then again, after all this running around I probably do look scarier than one.”

Arthur reached out then to her, brushing back a golden ringlet. “No,” he said quietly, confidently. “You're beautiful, Sarah. More beautiful than I could have ever imagined. I love you.”

Flustered was not something Sarah Lyons often was, but to such words not even she was immune. Bright red and tense, she steppes once more on his feet and abruptly lost her balance. Arthur caught her then and just as he had so often dreamed of doing, dipped her and kissed her deeply, as deeply as all his passion and love had been for all those years. And into it they both sank deep, deep as the dark ocean floor, lost in one another.

Then she broke away, panting and breathless from it all.

“Elder, she shouted suddenly, in a voice that wasn't hers, “Elder!”

Arthur blinked back her surprise and suddenly Sarah was gone, as if she had never even been in his arms. He looked around himself and found himself not in the makeshift wedding hall but his quarters, not in his tuxedo but in his officer's flight suit. He lingered, frozen and staring, dipping the vanished ghost of the woman he had loved.

The woman who had been found in mutilated scraps in a mutant hive just days before. Just days before they were to finally be married. Today, it would have been, he absently remembered.

Knight Danse stared from the doorway, stinking of power armor lubricant and ozone. “Elder Maxson, are you alright?”

He straightened slowly. Each bend of a joint, of his back, of what had once been a smile, was almost painful in its rigidity. Happiness and the memory of a dream sloughed off like necrotized flesh, leaving in its stead the skeleton of a man who had once been a dreamer named Arthur.

“Yes,” said Maxson, smoothing the creases from his flight suit, his scarred face shadowed. He looked to Danse, at the weary lines in his face, the eyes bloodshot from an impossible grief of his own. Maxson, Elder of the Brotherhood of Steel, remained still and showed no sign of sympathy. “What brings you here, Knight?”

“The Outcasts are moving on the Citadel, sir. I come as a messenger of the senior Paladins. They wish to know if you plan to surrender.”

“Surrender?”

Danse looked down, thrusting a fist against his chest in a fierce salute. “With Elder Lyons gone and no Sentinel to guide us, Elder, the Paladins feel--”

“I am Maxson! I am Elder of the Brotherhood of Steel! I will never surrender!”

“Sir, after what happened, we can't lose any more soldiers. We can't fight them anymore.”

“So give them what they want, is that it?” Maxson struggled not to let his dragon's anger pour forth, he trembled with the effort of it. He turned from the knight and clenched his hands behind him knuckle-white. “Let them walk right into the Citadel and all over Sarah's grave? Over Cutler's?”

Danse cringed, his breath hitching in his throat. It was a low blow, low as blows could ever be, but it felt good to know others hurt as he did. The horrible, unbearable, maddening hurt that made him want to burn down the world.

“No. We cannot give them the Brotherhood. We will never give them the Brotherhood.” Sarah would not have wanted to kill the Brotherhood. The Elder searched his memory for all he knew, every military strategy, every Outcast report he had read, every battle he had ever been in. For all this knowledge, he knew only that he could never beat them.

“Sarah, I don't know what to do,” he said to himself, wanting to tear at his hair, his clothes, at Danse in his grief and his frustration. Sarah, Sarah, Sarah rang in his mind, endless, battering into him the thought of what could have been.

Maxson looked then to the dress he had so carefully and clumsily made for his bride. Cutler and Danse had helped him, yes, but the stitches were his own. Gathered from scraps of the finest cloth he could scavenge, he had carefully made it for her to wear. How often had he dreamed her wearing it, on this day, for him? Today, it would have been, he absently remembered, the wedding.

And then Sarah in her infinite, imagined wisdom or some devil or God himself whispered into him an idea so ingenious and terrible that it just might work.

“Danse, prepare to send a messenger to the Outcasts, to that bastard Casdin himself.”

Knight Danse nodded grimly.

“We’ll be fine, sir. I’ll prepare for our surrender--”

“No,” said the Elder, his face and heart hardened, “for a wedding.”

#fallout #fallout 4 #fo4 #elder maxson #maxson #bos #brotherhood of steel #paladin danse #danse #sarah lyons #fanfiction #fanfic #ff #writing #my writing #ih2bu #it had to be you #above the clouds of pompeii

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heir-to-the-throne-cog · 6 years

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How weak are the ROs and Florence to a MC's puppy dog eyes or pout?

Florence and Rowan: So weak. They can’t handle the cuteness and will give you whatever you want before their heart breaks.

AL: Nice try but they have Florence as a sibling and now they’re completely immune to all forms of puppy dog eyes.

EH and Arthur: Nope. Its not going to work, they’re too strong…. Ok fine just please stop looking so sad.

CC: They’re so weak to you that you don’t even have to pout to get what you want.

Madeline: Aww, you’re so cute! But still no. The most you’ll get is her pinching your cheek mockingly.

#ashton/liliana #madeline #arthur #cecilia/cassius #rowan #emery/hayden

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lefafta · 7 years

Text

Choosing A French Bulldog Breeder

By Arthur Gibson

In the search for a healthy French Bulldog, learn about the steps needed to source a seller who is certified and cares about the well-being of their broods. Puppies rely on a good start in life and sound breeding practices to promote health and prevent poor form or disease. When searching for a French Bulldog Breeder, you must look for pets that are healthy and sellers that are licensed. A French Bulldog is a stocky little dog with a muscular body ready to play for hours on end with its family while proving intelligent and alert. These puppies include pointed ears, a broad chest and bulging eyes available in coat colors from beige and black to brindle. Once you have decided that a Frenchie is the dog for your family, the next step is to look for a breeder who is reliable and registered. A fully pedigreed French Bulldog is sold by an AKC registered breeder who invests in the time, care and knowledge required to maintain a pedigree. If you are interested in Frenchies, you need to find a breeder who is registered and has received positive reviews from previous customers. These puppies must be recognized by the American Kennel Club governing the ethical practice of breeding these dogs. In consultation with a reliable breeder, you must look for reputability and licensing with the necessary kennel clubs including any recommendations for breeding practices. A seller will often stipulate the conditions surrounding the breeding and sale of their pets and should ensure that puppies are taken to the best families. An agreement will cover sterilization and that puppies receive scheduled veterinary visits. If you are looking for a guard dog, Frenchies are not the solution and should be treated as part of the family. These smaller dogs with flat muzzles are prone to breathing difficulties and related problems requiring ongoing monitoring to ensure they remain healthy. Without the appropriate wellness strategies and support, it can impact the longevity of pets and make it difficult for animals to live a good quality of life. Learning about the breeder before moving forward with buying a puppy can help look out for certification, health checks and related assessments. The provision of a wellness certificate indicates that pups have been vet examined and vaccinated before leaving for their new homes. All worming and vaccinations after purchase are the responsibilities of the new owners. ' The completion of a vaccination is a single important factor in the purchase of a dog and any reliable breeder will ensure these procedures are conducted. Puppies with their developing immune systems will need the extra protection against life threatening illness. These vaccines are performed at specific ages and then once every year to keep dogs well protected and healthy. The right approach including research into the breeder can help you find the right puppy for your home. French Bulldogs are lovable canine companions bred for their intelligence, companionship and playful nature. When you are ready to take on a new member of the family, contact a reliable and AKC registered breeder who can provide a healthy, pedigreed puppy.

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