#SHOULD I BRING MICAH BACK FROM THE DEAD

[raidtheradio]

Hard Morning

Summary: You help Arthur through a particularly hard morning.

Notes: I just wanted to write something short and simple hehe, I have this other series I really gotta work on I posted like one chapter then disappeared for a month. Anyway, I haven't edited this since it's midnight and I'm high I might edit it later though who knows.

Read it on AO3!

Arthur Morgan is dying, his sickly dry heaving reminds you every day. ‘Black Lung’ Micah calls him. The cruel nickname creates a devastating image in your head when you hear him heave.

He struggles through daily life, he helps you girls with camp chores that are normally left to the women and Mr. Pearson. Karen is often too drunk to walk, and Abigail struggles worrying about her husband in prison. With two people out of condition, the workload had been overwhelming for you and your partners in crime. You tell Arthur every day not to worry, that he should just rest and focus on getting better. He never listens, he’s always up. Chopping wood, feeding horses, repairing travel-worn carriages. Between the scores that Dutch always assigns him to, he somehow manages to bring home dinner for the camp. It’s not always enough, but it keeps you and the gang going. You remember a time when you woke up before the rest of your little family. You were still in your undergarments, and working to restart the fire so you could make a large pot of coffee. That was when you heard the too familiar sound of dry heaving. Micah's nickname echoed in your head as you rushed to the source. Arthur was sitting on the log used to chop wood, the axe in his hand was forgotten and a half-chopped log was on its side in the grass. You weren’t good with people, quiet and reserved. Your flawed social skills became prominent when you saw your dear friend struggle with something as simple as breathing. You stood there and stared, slack-jawed. This man could survive on a can of beans for a whole day, you’ve seen him tear through drunken men with his bare knuckles.  A whole tank reduced to a man. You could practically see his black lungs struggle to bring oxygen to his body. With every heave, you could hear the fluid filling his chest. You had no words for the dying man, so you placed your hand on his back. You began with light circular motions, not wanting to take his concentration away from breathing. When he finally began to stabilize you increased pressure. Your stomach was filled with cement, your brows upturned. 

“I’m sorry.” He heaves, and your chest begins to hurt as well. He shouldn’t feel the need to hide his pain the way he does. He was always around to lend people a shoulder to cry on. 

“Take your time friend.” You respond. He draws in air through his nose, and exhales through his mouth. He’d finally caught his breath, you pulled your hand away as he began to stand.

“That was bad.” Stupid, but you had nothing else to say. 

“I’m ok, thank you.” He bends down to grab the axe and log. You grab his hand, he stops and looks at you.

“There’s no need Mr. Morgan, there's plenty of wood already.” You start to lead him, and like a poorly trained horse he hesitantly follows. You set him down on a nearby chair and he watches as you start the fire. You’ve done this many times before, being the early bird in the camp. You shove scraps of dead leaves and twigs in the center of the little tiipii and before you could even ask, Arthur holds his lighter out to you. You didn’t know how he managed to get his hands on such a nice one, gold with antler engravings, but you didn’t  ask as he didn’t seem to be in the mood to talk. Soon the fire was blazing, and coffee was brewed. You settled yourself beside him and handed him his own cup. He took it, his large hands looking out of place as he grips the small handle. You take a sip and look out to the forest. 

“Everythings just gone to shit.” Arthur is never really one to complain. Actually that’s a lie. You remember giggling many times when you’d catch him swearing under his breath over something stupid Sean did. Aw, Sean. You missed the poor bastard.

“You’re right.” You look him in the eye. He looked as if he’s aged ten years in the past two weeks. His once bright blue eyes faded, his mouth downturned into a heartbreaking frown. “But we have coffee, and this nice view.” You gesture to the woods around you both, and you thank God for his beautiful work. Even if his world is cruel, he sure knew how to landscape. Arthur doesn’t even chuckle, his mouth cemented into his frown. You take his hand and rub your thumb over his bruised knuckles. You have nothing else to say, and neither does he. He sips his coffee while the first sounds of life come from Dutch's tent. Well, let the day begin.

#arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan x reader #angst #hurt/comfort

[blackinquisitors]

Are there any characters or story beats that feel weak in rdr2 to you? Also, things you wished there'd been more exploration of, characters or ideas or themes

oh my god so much. I love red dead and its absolutely the best game ive ever played - and probably one of the best games ever - but its definitely not without flaws

Blessed are the peacemakers makes no sense in the plot. It does a few things: makes arthur doubt dutch, illustrates dutchs decline and his apathy (perhaps for the first time for the player), and shows that colm odriscoll is working with the pinkertons, possibly doing foreshadowing for micahs betrayal by showing you its possible for outlaws to become rats. BUT I think this could have been done in a billion other ways than "Lets torture arthur and never bring it up again!" bc he doesnt mention it, his shoulder injurt doesnt hinder him, he doesnt have ptsd from it. theres not a reason why that in particular had to happen. arthur could have been captured, but not tortured and shot, for example. maybe they could have drugged him and thru his haze he overheard colms plans and then managed to escape when he came to, only to find that it had been several days that he was missing and no one came to look for him. that sort of thing. same prinicple but without the ridiculous glossing over of TORTURE

Guarma. This one sticks in my craw and I get more annoyed every time I play it. R* originally was going to have villages and stranger missions on the island but abandoned it for some reason? time I guess? But I really would have liked to see a more personal look at the people there and how cornwall and fussar have hurt them. PLUS it would have been a very good opportunity to show how the way the rich men rob from the poor isnt too different from what dutch and the gang does. It would give arthur a really good image of how far they had fallen, that they were similar to these awful men, when they originally started off as robin hood-like men that gave back the money they stole to shanties. but no its just 3 missions of endless combat which can be fun but isnt really bc I dont even have my favortite gun with me. Also it didn't do a good job of showing Javier's sudden loyalty to Dutch/Bill/Micah. I would think that Arthur being stuck w these four, who eventually betray him, with nobody else would be a good opportunity to show how they all grow to hate him for some reason, but its not there. SIDE NOTE guarma is also glitched for me and this is a common bug. The time stays at 9am and half the guarma-exclusive animals dont spawn so I didn't get to fill out my compendium. R* never fixed this

I think all the girls could have been expanded upon. Tilly's role in the gang especially bc she was raised the same way as john and views dutch like a father, yet if you never heard her camp dialogue explaining this, you would never know. Molly especially needed more detail. She was supposed to be on the mission to go to the saint denis mayors party, and was cut for SOME REASON. but she would have done wonderfully. She should have had a part in it

The timeline of the gang and their relationships makes no fucking sense. Abigail says she always liked Mary, but Abigail joined the gang in 1894, and Mary and Arthur talk like they were in their early twenties when they were together. Theres a dialogue w Abigail and Uncle where they reminisce on her working girl days (bc Uncle was her pimp - very weird) and she says it was ten years ago. but that would mean she was working two years after she gave birth to jack which 1. didn't happen and 2. COULDNT happen bc I dont think men would want to pay for a night with a mother who had children fairly recently. the stretch marks and loose skin would give that away. Arthur has an antagonizing line to Jack that he looks like a williamson or an escuella- Javier didn't join the gang until about 1895, a year after abigail, and presumably when she was already pregnant or had given birth to jack. Theres other examples but these are the main ones I can think of

That encounter with Sonny in the swamp had no reason to be in the gang aside from R* thinking male victims of SA are funny

I wish they had more detail with Isaac. I mean clearly I wish that, ive got a 130k+ fic exploring arthur and Isaac's relationship, but within red dead I wanted just a bit more than a couple of lines. Originally Isaac and Eliza were both supposed to be in the game and Isaac was a newborn that would have frozen to death in the prologue, and I think Eliza would have ran away. Instead they went with making them a footnote in Arthur's story. On one hand, I understand why Arthur would rarely talk about them bc it would be too painful, but I also think if it was more overt, it would color his interactions with Jack/Abigail/John differently. Plus it would lean more into the themes of cycles of violence, and breaking out of it to be a father. Arthur didn't and he died childless, John tried to but he couldnt manage it and doomed his son to follow in his footsteps

THE EPILOGUE. Oh my godddd the more I play the epilogue, the more empty it feels and the more I realize why few people like it or finish it. It feels very tacked on. There needed to be a scene between the saddest video game death in history and John and Abigail arguing. The fact that there is no break inbetween like 2 hours of arthurs story wrapping up and another hour of John's story starting. Farm chores are fine but tedious if youve played it before. John being desperate for money and risking his life w sadies bounties makes no sense when Ive just done a treasure map and have $1000 in my inventory. "The gang needs money" is an endlessly attainable goal, moreso than "I need money". John's player model is just Arthur's reskinned- But they originally planned for you to play as John's npc model. You can see this in the pictures they have in the menu of John in the missions. The fact that there are NO NEW STRANGER MISSIONS aside from evelyn miller which is really nothing. They unlock new austin, but theres NOTHING to do there except collectiables and sight seeing and a couple bounties. Why even bother? When you compare how dense New Hanover is with Stuff To Do compared to New Austin which is HALF THE TOTAL MAP, its ridiculous!! I think it was just rushed and needed either more fleshing out, or cutting out completely bc John doesnt even live in new austin, and doesnt visit it until rdr1. Doesnt Bonnie give him a tour bc he doesnt know where things are? I may be misremembering that

Money. Money is so inconsistent and the values make no sense. Right its 1899. I rob a stagecoach and get $40 for it. This must be like $1000 in todays money. Wow Arthur beat a man to death for $40. This must be a lot of money. What do you mean a pair of jeans is $15. Thats how much they cost now! Wait why is this can of bean $1.40? I can buy them now for 40cents! Not to mention the Valentine bank robbery gives you $2000, essentially making money completely useless. Add on all the treasure maps as well as random gold bars lying around, which is 24 accoring to gamerant. $12,000 for all of those. So once you have this much money, all the fun outlaw stuff of robbing stagecoaches, mugging people, robbing stores and trains, is completely irrelavent. I never do any of it bc its not worth the bounty for 50 bucks. And paying off bounties isnt a big deal either bc its barely a dent in your pocket. Basically it takes the difficulty away, and the need to engage in these criminal activities for afford anything in the game. Its hard to take dutch seriously w his "We need more money" when I have a cool 8k in my man purse. Its also hard to believe Arthurs lamenting about his behaviour "I'm a bad man I rob and kill and am so terrible to people" no you aint but I dont make you do anything criminal unless the game makes me in a mission

Theres a lot of cut content and I wish almost all of it was back. Most notably, roulette tables, boat to guarma for John, more stranger missions, more companion activities in camp. I think they were orginally going to allow come sort of companion mechanic where people from camp could accomanpy Arthur on his adventures. I understand why they didnt bc that would require 10x more voice acting and would be really complicated with stranger missions, but I would have loved it all the same

Okay. I was going to add another one but tumblr said I reached my limit. my last thing is I wished they didnt play the native american flutes every time anyone in the wapiti tribe came on screen. silly.

anyway NOW I'm done. I think. Ill probably think of more but this post is already very long

#long post

[solarisgod]

I love you. I wish we were real.

 It cuts Micah most deeply when Adoniram says this one night . . . Not exactly telling xem , but he said it as if xe isn't right there , watching him slowly fade into the greater cold darkness . It is unsettling seeing how haunted he has been acting ⅋ appearing nowadays . Since xe died before returning to life , he became worst . Micah is unsure of what to say to him — if there is even anything that xe can say to him . ( Does something as painful as what he said need a response ? ) Micah gulps , xyr breathing pace starting to quicken as xe feels the world slowly falling apart around xem . Xe squeezes xyr eyes shut ⅋ clenches xyr hand , feels the hot tears over xyr cheeks . It hurts . It hurts so fucking much . Xe knows Adoniram has often been a bit out of touch with the world , but not like this — NOT WITH XEM —

❝ Antigod is the most maddening thing to be , ❞ shares Strange a few days after Micah returned to life . Micah frowns , yet , can see how this race would be full of madness to hold onto when it is like standing right between Life ⅋ Death , except it's Reality ⅋ Unreality instead . Knowing nothing is truly real for the sakes of Comedy ⅋ Tragedy , everything falls into infinite contradiction — ❝ It can break anyone at any point . ❞ Strange taps xyr temple as an emphasis . Micah flinches at the sight , thinking about the visual of Adoniram mentally declining from not only the Metamorphosis , but also his resurrection . ❝ Unfortunately , Adoniram . . . is one of them . ❞ Micah tears up . ❝ Is there anything that can be done to help him keep in touch with . . . everything , again ? ❞ xe asks Strange who shakes its head . ❝ You either kill Adoniram until he can't come back anymore , put him out of his misery , ❞ Strange answers solemnly , ❝ Or you let him be , have him decide how he should handle this whole new reality by his own terms . ❞ In nervousness , it rubs its hands , hating to see Micah cry more . ❝ You made the right choice for you both breaking up with him . It's only for the best to just let him go in the end . ❞

 Micah wipes the running tears with an arm , unable to bring xemself closer to Adoniram who seems to have an intention of leaving Father Lucas' home , be anywhere but with xem . Adoniram doesn't even seem to recognize xem anymore . Xe's nothing to him . We're not real . Micah doesn't think xe can speak to Adoniram . If a single word leaves xem , it will only turn into a blood curling scream . Micah tries to remember the first time xe met him at their neighborhood , both of them being bullied with rocks thrown at their heads ⅋ sneers sent in their ways . Adoniram never focused on their bullies , while he didn't seem to ever care about humanity itself — he never does . Yet , Micah had always loved him for his infinite bravery ⅋ curiosity . He wanted to travel to the moon like xem . They shared the same hopes ⅋ dreams .

 I love you . I wish we were real . Micah doesn't look away , even as Adoniram turns from xem ⅋ silently leaves the front porch into the dead midnight . Micah doesn't follow him to the dark . I love you too . I'm sorry we weren't enough .

 Adoniram fades .

#ASK TO TAG CW #FATEFIRE #/// #// #/ #𓁹 ༑ ࿐ྂ ⩇⩇ : ⩇⩇ ⚠︎ [ 𝙴𝚇𝙸(𝚂)𝚃 : 𝙶𝙾𝙳 ] * ‹ ADONIRAM . › #𓁹 ༑ ࿐ྂ ⩇⩇ : ⩇⩇ ⚠︎ [ 𝙴𝚇𝙸(𝚂)𝚃 : 𝙶𝙾𝙳 ] * ‹ FATEFIRE . › #𓁹 ༑ ࿐ྂ ⩇⩇ : ⩇⩇ ⚠︎ [ 𝙴𝚇𝙸(𝚂)𝚃 : 𝙶𝙾𝙳 ] * ‹ IC . › #𓁹 ༑ ࿐ྂ ⩇⩇ : ⩇⩇ ⚠︎ [ 𝙴𝚇𝙸(𝚂)𝚃 : 𝙶𝙾𝙳 ] * ‹ ANSWERS . › #𓁹 ༑ ࿐ྂ ⩇⩇ : ⩇⩇ ⚠︎ [ 𝙴𝚇𝙸(𝚂)𝚃 : 𝙶𝙾𝙳 ] * ‹ V : MAIN / ACT I.VI. . › #𓁹 ༑ ࿐ྂ ⩇⩇ : ⩇⩇ ⚠︎ [ 𝙴𝚇𝙸(𝚂)𝚃 : 𝙶𝙾𝙳 ] * ‹ MICAH . › #[ OH MY FUCKING GOD I AM . ] #[ WHYYYYYY DID YOU HAVE TO USE THIS LINE I HATE IT ] #[ NO I DIDN'T CRY WRITING THIS </3 THANK YOU AND FUCK YOU <3 SFMNGKHU09-4835804WTYUHDJNF ] #[ FUCK ] #[ worst way to celebrate Valentine EVER <<<<<////33333 ]

[secretobsessionstuff]

Can you write a Michah and Alexei fic where Alexei is sick and delirious. I’d also love for you to include these requests from the fluffy caretaker list 28,29

Thank you! The prompts come from THIS lovely post and I used:

28. "You can't stay on the cold floor all night."

29. "You haven't kept anything down in hours. I think I should take you to the hospital."

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

Micah was browsing pet adoption websites, looking for a cat for the two of them—he tried not to be too saddened by the fact that Alexi was afraid of dogs—when he came across a grey and white fellow named Jack. If Alexi hadn’t walked into the bedroom at that exact moment, there probably would have been a feline tenant living with them the very next day. 

“Hi,” Alexi mumbled sadly from in the doorway, effectively delaying the potential arrival of a cat named Jack. 

Micah looked up from his computer screen and set his laptop aside when he saw the sallow look to his boyfriend’s face. “Well, hello? I know you didn’t look this bad when you left this morning. What’s going on?” 

Alexi got his knees up on the bed and flopped onto the covers. His hair sprawled out around his head. “I think I’m sick,” he told the blankets because Micah certainly didn’t hear him with his face smooshed into the bed. 

“What was that?” 

Yellow curls framed Alexi’s face as he lifted his head up to speak. “I am feeling…under the weather. Very far under the weather.” 

Micah smirked at the strange way that Alexi said it. But then he pouted. “Aw come here, love. What’s bothering you?” 

As Alexi practically climbed on top of his boyfriend, Micah thought that maybe they didn’t need a cat. Alexi was already invading enough of his personal space as it was. All that was needed was a purr, but Alexi let out a moan instead. 

“My head hurts,” he mumbled into Micah’s chest. “And my throat—” Before he could finish naming off symptoms, a loud gurgle rippled through his stomach. 

“And your belly?” Micah asked with a smirk. With their bodies pressed together, he felt every movement and flip of Alexi’s upset stomach. 

“That too.” Alexi wished he could get closer to Micah, to cuddle deeper, but there wasn’t much more he could do—he was already on top of the boy. Oh, but he really did feel so sick that he just wanted to dissolve in the hug. Every muscle was sore. Every ache pulsed through his body. He felt that pulse deep in his belly

“You know,” Micah began, “with that fever, you’re a perfect weighted blanket.” 

“I have a fever?” 

“I hope so, or else I’ll only want to cuddle in the winter.” Micah was sweating beneath the weight of his boyfriend. The heat rolled off his body in waves and came crashing towards Micah who was pinned to the bed. “You’re like a furnace, Lexi.” 

“I’m sorry,” Alexi said, rolling off. Now on his back, he stared up at the ceiling, his eyes burning and watering. 

Micah sighed and got up from the bed. “I was going to make grilled cheese for dinner. Do you want some?” Alexi gave him a sour look. “Oh come on, you need to eat something.” 

“No I don’t. Just let me wither away.” 

“You’re so dramatic,” Micah said as he reached for Alexi’s hand. It was like pulling a dead body out of water. Eventually he got Alexi out of bed and into the kitchen where he promptly folded his arms on the table to rest his head. 

Micah didn’t mind. He began making grilled cheeses for the two of them. Alexi’s meal came with a side of gourmet paracetamol. 

Micah gently set the plate down in front of Alexi, making sure that the noise wouldn’t hurt Alexi’s head too much. “Try to eat. You’ll need it if you’re getting sick.”

Alexi scoffed at the word ‘getting’, but he nibbled slowly on the sandwich anyway. 

Halfway through the meal—Micah had finished, but Alexi was still working his way through the food—Micah took the opportunity to bring up his new friend Jack. Okay, he might have been using Alexi’s tired state to his advantage, but it was for a good cause. “So,” he started, “I found a cat in need of adopting. He’s really close by and his name is Jack. The website says he’s cuddly and that he’s been there almost the longest. What do you say?” 

Alexi didn’t say anything. He was staring down at his half-eaten sandwich. The edges of his vision got dark the way they always did when he was looking through a fever. His throat bobbed up and down, despite him no longer taking bites of his sandwich. The cheese had gone cold and congealed between the slices of bread. He didn’t care anymore because his stomach could not handle another bite. He swallowed thickly and looked up at Micah with drooping eyes. There were red spots on his face from where he held his head in his hands. 

“…Honey?” Micah said hesitantly. An unconscious part of his mind already knew what was going to happen because he was half-way out of his chair before the first gag escaped from Alexi’s mouth. 

Alexi lurched forward, his abdomen hitting the edge of the table as a retch tore up from his throat. A gush of sick came splattering onto the wooden surface. He was too tired to move. With his head hung low and vomit dripping from his lips, he muttered, “I’m sorry.” 

Micah was on the other side of the table in an instant. “No, no, okay, don’t be sorry.” 

Another heave left Alexi retching over the puddle that he just created. More sick rushed from his mouth and joined the mess with a squelching sound. 

“Oh God,” Micah sighed. He stood over Alexi, rubbing his shoulders while his stomach rejected everything he just ate, and most of his lunch by the looks of it. 

Alexi belched up a thin stream of pale vomit, sobbing in between bouts. 

“Shh, everything’s okay,” Micah whispered. “You’re okay, Lexi.” 

The vomiting tapered off into empty gags, finally giving Alexi the chance to breathe. He panted and sniffled. There was vomit splashed onto his arms, and he didn’t even want to look at the mess on the table. Instead, he turned toward the still-standing Micah, and buried his face in his boyfriend’s stomach. 

Micah pulled Alexi’s head against his body, petting down his hair with constant, slow movements. The heat was alive and seeping from his scalp. “Oh, you poor thing. You’re really sick, love” 

Tears and snot dried into Micah’s shirt as Alexi pulled away. He looked up to see the soft, concerned expression on his boyfriend’s face. “I don’t like this, Micah.”

“Aw, I know. I’m sorry you’re feeling so shitty.” 

“Will you help me to the bathroom? I’m not done.” 

Alexi greeted the bathroom floor like an old friend. He knelt down on the tiles, appreciative of the cold shot that hit his cheeks. He stayed there until his stomach decided to send up the rest of its contents. 

From the doorway, Micah watched his boyfriend curl into a fetal position on the floor. He frowned at the awful sight. There was a mess he needed to clean up before he could join Alexi though. “I’m going to clean off the table. I’ll be right back,” he said casually, as if he were only going to clear off plates and cutlery. He waited for a response from Alexi but got nothing. He tried one more time. “You okay for a while, baby?” 

Maybe Alexi gave a nod. Maybe. It was unclear. 

Micah dumped Alexi’s plate in the sink and let the water clean everything away. He got a rag and used it to clean off the table. Micah did all these movements robotically. His arms and hands wiped the rag across the surface, but his mind was elsewhere; it was in the bathroom where he could hear Alexi moaning on the floor. 

“Okay, my love,” he said to Alexi when he joined him on the cold tiles, “everything is clean, so there’s nothing to worry about.” 

“I’m really sorry.” The sick boy barely moved his lips to speak. 

“Hey, what did I just say?” 

There was a long pause. Alexi had a vacant look in his eyes. It made Micah uneasy because it seemed like Alexi was looking through him. Or maybe he wasn’t seeing anything at all, only lonely darkness. From Micah’s perspective, it looked like the darkness was pulling Alexi deeper into himself, into a space where nothing made sense. 

Alexi squinted in confusion. “I don’t know.” 

“You don’t know what, honey?” 

“I don’t know what you just said.” 

“I—” Micah licked his lips and frowned. “I—” he sighed. “…It doesn’t matter.” 

Despite Alexi saying that he wasn’t done throwing up, he spent a surprisingly long time on the bathroom floor not throwing up. And Micah stayed with him for hours. Every time that Alexi jerked in his fevered sleep, Micah tensed up. He’d been ready to guide Alexi to the toilet, and to rub his back. But nothing ever happened. 

Micah must have fallen asleep as well because when he opened his eyes, his phone told him that they’d been lying there for hours. He grunted and sat up. Alexi was a puddle of sweat, sleeping fitfully. He checked the boy’s temperature with his palm and found his skin still burning. It felt worse than before. 

Micah took the opportunity to grab more medicine for Alexi and a glass of water. 

Night had certainly arrived while they’d been huddle in this small space. At first, Micah didn’t want to wake Alexi up, but a few things changed his mind. The first was that Alexi’s neck was angled awkwardly with how he slept. The next was that the boy kept mumbling in his sleep. It was frantic and hushed, meaning Micah couldn’t make any sense out of it. Even if Alexi’s had been talking loud enough for Micah to hear, it wouldn’t have mattered because it was probably feverish gibberish anyway. The pained and twisted expression on Alexi’s face told Micah that he was slogging his way through a nightmare. 

With all that, Micah didn’t feel too bad about shaking his boyfriend awake. Alexi’s eyes were glassy and bloodshot. “Here take this.” He handed him the pills before he was alert enough to protest. 

“Good job, babe,” Micah said after Alexi had swallowed the pills with a grimace. “Alright, let’s get you to an actual bed.” From his crouched position, Micah slapped his legs to say let’s go. He grabbed Alexi’s hand to help him up, but the boy did not move. 

Micah let out a frustrated sigh. “Alexi, you can't stay on the cold floor all night. Do this for me, please.” 

“No…” Alexi whined. Micah didn’t catch it, but it was closer to French than to English. Closer to Non, than No. It also happened to be what Alexi was mumbling over and over in his sleep, amidst other words that Micah would not have known. 

“Please,” Micah continued to plead with him. 

Alexi shook his head like a child. He didn’t want to go to his bed because he knew, as soon as he was woken up, that he was going to be sick. He’d been too drowsy to stop Micah from feeding him medicine, but he was awake enough to say something now. If only it came out in English. “J’vais êt’ m'lade”

Micah sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Ah slurred French, that’s always a good sign when you have fever.” 

True to his words, Alexi heaved. It was thankfully dry—a warning.

Micah fortunately heeded the warning. “Oh okay,” he said taken aback by the sudden development. He had a pretty good idea what Alexi had mumbled. “Thanks for telling me…in French!” At this point, Micah felt like he was talking to air. There were no answers, no reactions, just a poor boy too sick to do anything but be sick. 

He helped Alexi over to the toilet bowl just in time for the next heave which was not dry. With a wet belch, the remainder of his stomach contents splashed into the water, along with the medicine that he just took. It hurt his throat and made blood rush to his pounding head. 

This round of vomiting was agonizingly stretched out over a much longer period of time. And it continued in a nauseous cycle. First Alexi would swallow excessively as the next bout prepared to rush up from his belly. Then he’d get too tired and just let the saliva drip into the toilet. Then finally the dreaded wave of sick escaped past his lips. But that was not the end. This series repeated itself until a new step was added: dry heaving.  

This was also the step when Alexi started to cry. With sick hanging off his lips and his chest burning, he begged for Micah to make it stop. “I’m so tired, Micah,” he said breathlessly.

“I know.” Micah felt like crying as well. This was too much, and he didn’t know how to make it better for his boyfriend. Not to mention that Alexi’s fever was still burning its way through his body. He was beginning to think that they needed more help than what he could provide. 

Alexi wiped his mouth and said, “Can I go to bed now?” 

Micah bit his lip to keep from making a sound. He wanted to say yes. All he wanted was to tuck Alexi safely into bed, but that wasn’t an option anymore. Alexi skin was grey and dry, and even though he was crying, there were no tears on his cheek. So, he couldn’t go to sleep just yet. 

“I know you’re tired, baby, but…” Micah began, feeling like the worst boyfriend in the world. Alexi looked so hurt. 

“But what?” 

Micah sighed, for probably the hundredth time. “You haven't kept anything down in hours. I think I should take you to the hospital.” 

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Micah looked up expectantly. 

“Yes. I want this to be over.” 

“Me too.” Micah quickly picked himself off the floor and did the same for Alexi. “I know you don’t want to go, but this’ll be good. I promise. It’ll make you better—”

“—Micah, I trust you. Just help me.” 

#emeto #emetophilia #emetophile #sickfic #emeto fic #emeto fiction #emeto kink #vomit kink #emetophiliac #stomach flu #stomach bug #stomach flu fic #my ocs #Alexi #Micah #fever #fever fic #delirium fic #delirious #h/c #hurt/comfort #vomiting #puking #stomach ache fic #stomach ache

[certified-anakinfucker]

10 Characters, 10 Fandoms, 10 Tags

How to play: name 10 of your favourite characters from 10 different fandoms, then tag 10 people to do the same.

tagged by @kiwikipedia and @chiafett, i’m giving them both a gentle muah and an obligatory apology for mobile’s bullshittery

Cheerilee | My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic

Take a wild guess where I got this screen name from LMAO it has survived a loooooooooong time. I think I first took it when I was 11? 12? on a hellscape sns. Now I brought it back bc I like the vibes :) At the time I wanted to be a teacher like her (and my mom), and plus her coat color was probably my favorite color at the time. I just loved her a lot.

Christophe Giacometti | Yuri!!! on Ice

He got subjected to the “fuck you he’s mine” treatment, but really I just. Adore him. He showed up like a whore who was DEFINITELY seeing Viktor so long ago and now they’ve turned into the closest friends anyone could ask for with the most beautiful sense of “I love you but you’re going to pay for that” rivalry. He is so pretty. I kind of want to bring him back for SW but I dunno what he’ll be doing :(

[Redacted] | [Data Expunged]

I like my men pathetic and miserable and they can’t do jack nor the shit without causing a cascade failure on an unimaginably catastrophic scale and bringing about destruction to everything he’s ever loved BECAUSE he loved so hard and now everyone sees him with such a sour (bittersweet at best) taste in their mouth and he’s resigned himself to the background in so many things he used to be the proudest of his prowess in but he’s so pretty and dainty and and and and and-

Anakin Skywalker | Star Wars

Me and the scrungly blorbos ass-up in untreated trauma from abandonment issues and being thrust into high positions of power without proper support despite others insisting that we ARE being properly supported at all measures but there are people scared and jealous of us and we keep refusing to admit how deeply it effects our daily lives and relationships until it inevitably destroys what good we do see around us and we have to make the decision on whether to learn and grow from this or just shrug and keep it trucking in the trenches. Neither of us made the right choice here and that’s banger. We’re doing great wdym?

Jedediah | Night at the Museum

Can’t believe I had to split up Jedediah and Octavius for this but I just genuinely admire him. He is so cool. Maybe it’s the free-spirited gay cowboy gender.

Loki | M*rvel

Shut up he’s hot

Wheatley | Portal (2)

Don’t speak to me he’s so so so stupid

Jazz | Transformers

This is entirely Mikey’s fault and I will make sure she knows this daily. Jazz is so just like me fr

Honorable Fandom Mentions

Basically, fandoms I only dipped a toe into but not deep enough to pick just one favorite!

Hades (Game)

WHERE IS MY MOTHER NYX. WHERE IS SHE. I deeply admire anyone’s ability (namely @purgetrooperfox) in sitting through this game.

Red Dead Redemption / 2

What if I turned Micah and Dutch into mulch? What if Arthur lived an amazing life instead? This game makes me feel so many emotions what the fuck I should play it someday 🥲

Tags <3

i’m dumb and wasn’t paying much attention to who was already tagged so. @milf-maul @jekyllnahyena @spaceydragons @sithbian @friedennic @walk-ng-d-saster @kemendin @grandninjamasterren @perasperaadastrawriting @kkrazy256

#cheeri was tagged here #kiwi youre so lucky i love you /lhj #hi leoooo im borrowing u for a callout #terra i keep trying to @ your name and getting sent back to #‘omg wait kkrazy256 is TERRA??? the very terra im talking to rn?????’ #i refuse to elaborate on who the redacted is #and i refuse to elaborate on marvel loki #i absolutely will not elaborate on wheatley. i will not do it

[jay-avian]

Find the Word

This is the speed round of posting so..

Tagged by @clairelsonao3 to fine the words yes, young, yet, and yourself. Tagged by @imaginativemind29new to find fire, light, book and chance

I tried to get as many as I could from my current WIP

Yes (Court Magician)

“Yes. We wouldn’t want to ruin that special outfit of yours,” Micah smirked. He guided the water back to the creek. Jaxon looked down at his clothes. He wore royal blue with silver trim on the edges. His sleeves were puffed up from shoulder to elbow. His shirt was dotted with silver speckles and bore a six-pointed silver star on the chest. His shoes were black and shined like diamonds. He looked back up. “I think it looks nice.” Micah looked over his friend. He raised his brows with contempt.

Young (Court Magician)

The fourth, well fifth, member was a young satyr boy about 14 years old. Ventus had short, curly, light brown hair on his head, and light brown fur on his fawn legs. He was also paler than the rest with freckles dotted about his skin. He even had white spots of fur on his legs too. He had small, light gray, twisty horns that pointed back, and a goat-like nose, ears, and tail. He was quite skinny, but tall for his age and race. He was about half as tall as Micah.

Yet (In Love and War)

He chuckled again. “I’m sorry your Highness,” he says standing up. “But I’m afraid I can’t let you pass just yet.” “And why not?” she asks, drawing her sword. “I have to give you a little test first.” An even bigger grin spreads on his face as he steps closer. “Test? Do you know who I am??”

Yourself (Court Magician)

“Well, it’s quite lovely. Quite thoughtful, too.” Rhydian turns to Micah again. “You better be planning a gift for him right now. You can’t call yourself a good friend otherwise.” “I’ll be sure to think of something,” Micah says with a smile.

Fire and Light (Court Magician)

Rhydian sits back down and looks over the summons. Jaxon goes to sit down next to him. Micah starts making tea. He fills a kettle with water and sets it over the hearthfire. He starts to pick some flowers and leaves from the window’s tea garden box. Lavender, rose, and a handful of tea leaves. A light chirrup is heard from outside. Up jumps a blue-spotted tabby onto the windowsill, who meows happily.

Book (In Love and War) (tw: blood, death)

It was Frederick, slowly backing away from behind a tree. He was holding some sort of book with blood all on his hands and clothes. His breathing was heavy, shoulders tense, and eyes wide. He wasn’t staring at the dead bodies, but at Eliza. Eliza quickly collected herself. She straightened up, her expression turning cold. “Frederick Riverwood,” she said in a loud, stern voice. “You are to explain yourself this instant!”

Chance (Kraken's Bane)

Elliot stood quiet now. He thought about all the people that Caspian lost, how many of them were his friends, brothers in piracy. It’d be foolish to bring them up again. It’d probably be even more foolish to ask him to risk it all again for the chance to meet the same fate.

Woosh! That was a lot! Now.. to tag some victims people to join in

@cryscal @aloeverawrites and @amewinterswriting Your mission, should you choose to accept it: find the words scared, ground, warmth, and story (in any form of the word)

#writing tag game #kraken's bane #the court magician #in love and war #writeblr #creative writing #wip

[roman-catholic-mass-readings]

11th March >> Mass Readings (USA)

Saturday, Second Week of Lent 

(Liturgical Colour: Violet: Year A(1))

First Reading Micah 7:14-15, 18-20 God will cast our sins into the depths of the sea.

Shepherd your people with your staff, the flock of your inheritance, That dwells apart in a woodland, in the midst of Carmel. Let them feed in Bashan and Gilead, as in the days of old; As in the days when you came from the land of Egypt, show us wonderful signs.

Who is there like you, the God who removes guilt and pardons sin for the remnant of his inheritance; Who does not persist in anger forever, but delights rather in clemency, And will again have compassion on us, treading underfoot our guilt? You will cast into the depths of the sea all our sins; You will show faithfulness to Jacob, and grace to Abraham, As you have sworn to our fathers from days of old.

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Responsorial Psalm Psalm 103:1-2, 3-4, 9-10, 11-12

R/ The Lord is kind and merciful.

Bless the LORD, O my soul; and all my being, bless his holy name. Bless the LORD, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits.

R/ The Lord is kind and merciful.

He pardons all your iniquities, he heals all your ills. He redeems your life from destruction, he crowns you with kindness and compassion.

R/ The Lord is kind and merciful.

He will not always chide, nor does he keep his wrath forever. Not according to our sins does he deal with us, nor does he requite us according to our crimes.

R/ The Lord is kind and merciful.

For as the heavens are high above the earth, so surpassing is his kindness toward those who fear him. As far as the east is from the west, so far has he put our transgressions from us.

R/ The Lord is kind and merciful.

Gospel Acclamation Luke 15:18

I will get up and go to my father and shall say to him, Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you.

Gospel Luke 15:1-3, 11-32 Your brother was dead and has come to life.

Tax collectors and sinners were all drawing near to listen to Jesus, but the Pharisees and scribes began to complain, saying, “This man welcomes sinners and eats with them.” So to them Jesus addressed this parable. “A man had two sons, and the younger son said to his father, ‘Father, give me the share of your estate that should come to me.’ So the father divided the property between them. After a few days, the younger son collected all his belongings and set off to a distant country where he squandered his inheritance on a life of dissipation. When he had freely spent everything, a severe famine struck that country, and he found himself in dire need. So he hired himself out to one of the local citizens who sent him to his farm to tend the swine. And he longed to eat his fill of the pods on which the swine fed, but nobody gave him any. Coming to his senses he thought, ‘How many of my father’s hired workers have more than enough food to eat, but here am I, dying from hunger. I shall get up and go to my father and I shall say to him, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I no longer deserve to be called your son; treat me as you would treat one of your hired workers.”’ So he got up and went back to his father. While he was still a long way off, his father caught sight of him, and was filled with compassion. He ran to his son, embraced him and kissed him. His son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you; I no longer deserve to be called your son.’ But his father ordered his servants, ‘Quickly, bring the finest robe and put it on him; put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. Take the fattened calf and slaughter it. Then let us celebrate with a feast, because this son of mine was dead, and has come to life again; he was lost, and has been found.’ Then the celebration began. Now the older son had been out in the field and, on his way back, as he neared the house, he heard the sound of music and dancing. He called one of the servants and asked what this might mean. The servant said to him, ‘Your brother has returned and your father has slaughtered the fattened calf because he has him back safe and sound.’ He became angry, and when he refused to enter the house, his father came out and pleaded with him. He said to his father in reply, ‘Look, all these years I served you and not once did I disobey your orders; yet you never gave me even a young goat to feast on with my friends. But when your son returns who swallowed up your property with prostitutes, for him you slaughter the fattened calf.’ He said to him, ‘My son, you are here with me always; everything I have is yours. But now we must celebrate and rejoice, because your brother was dead and has come to life again; he was lost and has been found.’“

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

[tpanan]

My Saturday Daily Blessings

March 11, 2023

Be still quiet your heart and mind, the LORD is here, loving you talking to you...........                                                  

Saturday of the Second Week in Lent (Roman Rite Calendar) Lectionary 235, Cycle A

First Reading: Micah 7:14-15, 18-20

Shepherd your people with your staff, the flock of your inheritance, That dwells apart in a woodland, in the midst of Carmel. Let them feed in Bashan and Gilead, as in the days of old; As in the days when you came from the land of Egypt, show us wonderful signs. Who is there like you, the God who removes guilt and pardons sin for the remnant of his inheritance; Who does not persist in anger forever, but delights rather in clemency, And will again have compassion on us, treading underfoot our guilt? You will cast into the depths of the sea all our sins; You will show faithfulness to Jacob, and grace to Abraham, As you have sworn to our fathers from days of old.

Responsorial Psalm: Psalm 103:1-2,3-4,9-10, 11-12

"The Lord is kind and merciful."

Verse before the Gospel: Luke 15:18

"I will get up and go to my father and shall say to him, Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you."

**Gospel: Luke 15:1-3, 11-32

Tax collectors and sinners were all drawing near to listen to Jesus, but the Pharisees and scribes began to complain, saying, "This man welcomes sinners and eats with them." So to them Jesus addressed this parable. "A man had two sons, and the younger son said to his father, 'Father, give me the share of your estate that should come to me.' So the father divided the property between them. After a few days, the younger son collected all his belongings and set off to a distant country where he squandered his inheritance on a life of dissipation.

When he had freely spent everything, a severe famine struck that country, and he found himself in dire need. So he hired himself out to one of the local citizens who sent him to his farm to tend the swine. And he longed to eat his fill of the pods on which the swine fed, but nobody gave him any. Coming to his senses he thought, 'How many of my father's hired workers have more than enough food to eat, but here am I, dying from hunger. I shall get up and go to my father and I shall say to him, "Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you.I no longer deserve to be called your son; treat me as you would treat one of your hired workers."' So he got up and went back to his father.

While he was still a long way off, his father caught sight of him, and was filled with compassion. He ran to his son, embraced him and kissed him. His son said to him, 'Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you; I no longer deserve to be called your son.' But his father ordered his servants, 'Quickly, bring the finest robe and put it on him; put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. Take the fattened calf and slaughter it. Then let us celebrate with a feast, because this son of mine was dead, and has come to life again; he was lost, and has been found.' Then the celebration began. Now the older son had been out in the field and, on his way back, as he neared the house, he heard the sound of music and dancing.

He called one of the servants and asked what this might mean. The servant said to him, 'Your brother has returned and your father has slaughtered the fattened calf because he has him back safe and sound.' He became angry, and when he refused to enter the house, his father came out and pleaded with him. He said to his father in reply, 'Look, all these years I served you and not once did I disobey your orders; yet you never gave me even a young goat to feast on with my friends. But when your son returns who swallowed up your property with prostitutes, for him you slaughter the fattened calf.' He said to him, 'My son, you are here with me always; everything I have is yours.

But now we must celebrate and rejoice, because your brother was dead and has come to life again; he was lost and has been found.'"

**Meditation:

How can you love someone who turns their back on you and still forgive them from the heart? The prophets remind us that God does not abandon us, even if we turn our backs on him (Micah 7:18). He calls us back to himself - over and over and over again. Jesus' story of the father and his two sons (sometimes called the parable of the prodigal son) is the longest parable in the Gospels. 

What is the main point or focus of the story? Is it the contrast between an obedient and a disobedient son or is it between the warm reception given to a spendthrift son by his father and the cold reception given by the eldest son? Jesus contrasts the father's merciful love with the eldest son's somewhat harsh reaction to his errant brother and to the lavish party his joyful father throws for his repentant son. While the errant son had wasted his father's money, his father, nonetheless, maintained unbroken love for his son. The son, while he was away, learned a lot about himself. And he realized that his father had given him love which he had not returned. He had yet to learn about the depth of his father's love for him. His deep humiliation at finding himself obliged to feed on the husks of pigs and his reflection on all he had lost, led to his repentance and decision to declare himself guilty before his father. While he hoped for reconciliation with his father, he could not have imagined a full restoration of relationship. The father did not need to speak words of forgiveness to his son; his actions spoke more loudly and clearly! The beautiful robe, the ring, and the festive banquet symbolize the new life - pure, worthy, and joyful - of anyone who returns to God.

The prodigal could not return to the garden of innocence, but he was welcomed and reinstated as a son. The errant son's dramatic change from grief and guilt to forgiveness and restoration express in picture-language the resurrection from the dead, a rebirth to new life from spiritual death. The parable also contrasts mercy and its opposite - unforgiveness. The father who had been wronged, was forgiving. But the eldest son, who had not been wronged, was unforgiving. His unforgiveness turns into contempt and pride. And his resentment leads to his isolation and estrangement from the community of forgiven sinners. In this parable Jesus gives a vivid picture of God and what God is like. God is truly kinder than us. He does not lose hope or give up when we stray. He rejoices in finding the lost and in welcoming them home. Do you know the joy of repentance and the restoration of relationship as a son or daughter of your heavenly Father?

Lord Jesus, may I never doubt your love nor take for granted the mercy you have shown to me. Fill me with your transforming love that I may be merciful as you are merciful.

Sources:

Lectionary for Mass for use in the Dioceses of the United States, second typical edition, copyright (c) 2001, 1998, 1986, 1970 Confraternity of Christian Doctrine; Psalm refrain (c) 1968, 1981, 1997, international committee on english in the liturgy, Inc All rights reserved. Neither this work nor any part of it may be reproduced, distributed, performed or displayed in any medium, including electronic or digital, without permission in writing from the copyright owner

**Meditations may be freely reprinted and translated into other languages for non-profit use only. Please cite copyright and original source. Copyright 2021 Daily Scripture Readings and Meditation, dailyscripture.net author Don Schwager

[dailychapel]

Father, In Micah 6:8, You say, “O people, the LORD has told you what is good, and this is what he requires of you: to do what is right, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God.” Today we choose to walk humbly with You. We choose to live by Your Holy Spirit and to follow Your lead. Help us to hear You clearly, for we do not want to walk by pride or self-sufficiency, we want to walk with You. In Jesus' name, Amen. By Cally Logan

Acts 23:1–35 NLT - 1 Gazing intently at the high council, Paul began: "Brothers, I have always lived before God with a clear conscience!" 2 Instantly Ananias the high priest commanded those close to Paul to slap him on the mouth. 3 But Paul said to him, "God will slap you, you corrupt hypocrite! What kind of judge are you to break the law yourself by ordering me struck like that?" 4 Those standing near Paul said to him, "Do you dare to insult God's high priest?" 5 "I'm sorry, brothers. I didn't realize he was the high priest," Paul replied, "for the Scriptures say, 'You must not speak evil of any of your rulers.'" 6 Paul realized that some members of the high council were Sadducees and some were Pharisees, so he shouted, "Brothers, I am a Pharisee, as were my ancestors! And I am on trial because my hope is in the resurrection of the dead!" 7 This divided the council--the Pharisees against the Sadducees-- 8 for the Sadducees say there is no resurrection or angels or spirits, but the Pharisees believe in all of these. 9 So there was a great uproar. Some of the teachers of religious law who were Pharisees jumped up and began to argue forcefully. "We see nothing wrong with him," they shouted. "Perhaps a spirit or an angel spoke to him." 10 As the conflict grew more violent, the commander was afraid they would tear Paul apart. So he ordered his soldiers to go and rescue him by force and take him back to the fortress. 11 That night the Lord appeared to Paul and said, "Be encouraged, Paul. Just as you have been a witness to me here in Jerusalem, you must preach the Good News in Rome as well." 12 The next morning a group of Jews got together and bound themselves with an oath not to eat or drink until they had killed Paul. 13 There were more than forty of them in the conspiracy. 14 They went to the leading priests and elders and told them, "We have bound ourselves with an oath to eat nothing until we have killed Paul. 15 So you and the high council should ask the commander to bring Paul back to the council again. Pretend you want to examine his case more fully. We will kill him on the way." 16 But Paul's nephew--his sister's son--heard of their plan and went to the fortress and told Paul. 17 Paul called for one of the Roman officers and said, "Take this young man to the commander. He has something important to tell him." 18 So the officer did, explaining, "Paul, the prisoner, called me over and asked me to bring this young man to you because he has something to tell you." 19 The commander took his hand, led him aside, and asked, "What is it you want to tell me?" 20 Paul's nephew told him, "Some Jews are going to ask you to bring Paul before the high council tomorrow, pretending they want to get some more information. 21 But don't do it! There are more than forty men hiding along the way ready to ambush him. They have vowed not to eat or drink anything until they have killed him. They are ready now, just waiting for your consent." 22 "Don't let anyone know you told me this," the commander warned the young man. 23 Then the commander called two of his officers and ordered, "Get 200 soldiers ready to leave for Caesarea at nine o'clock tonight. Also take 200 spearmen and 70 mounted troops. 24 Provide horses for Paul to ride, and get him safely to Governor Felix." 25 Then he wrote this letter to the governor: 26 "From Claudius Lysias, to his Excellency, Governor Felix: Greetings! 27 "This man was seized by some Jews, and they were about to kill him when I arrived with the troops. When I learned that he was a Roman citizen, I removed him to safety. 28 Then I took him to their high council to try to learn the basis of the accusations against him. 29 I soon discovered the charge was something regarding their religious law--certainly nothing worthy of imprisonment or death. 30 But when I was informed of a plot to kill him, I immediately sent him on to you. I have told his accusers to bring their charges before you." 31 So that night, as ordered, the soldiers took Paul as far as Antipatris. 32 They returned to the fortress the next morning, while the mounted troops took him on to Caesarea. 33 When they arrived in Caesarea, they presented Paul and the letter to Governor Felix. 34 He read it and then asked Paul what province he was from. "Cilicia," Paul answered. 35 "I will hear your case myself when your accusers arrive," the governor told him. Then the governor ordered him kept in the prison at Herod's headquarters.

[chobit92]

Supernatural: Castiel/Anya

Castiel comes back from the dead...Again

 (Sam and Dean walk into the bunkers library. They have just gotten back from a hunt. Jack is sat at the table typing away at a laptop.).

Jack: How’d it go?

Dean: Well...

Sam: Jack um...

Jack: What’s wrong?

(Castiel walks in behind them and Jack stares at him.).

Castiel: Hello Jack.

Jack: Castiel?

Castiel: Yeah, it’s me.

Jack: No. We burned your body, and what’s burned stays dead. How...

Dean: Well, that’s the question we’ve been asking.

Sam: Jack did you uh...Did you bring Cass back?

Jack: I don’t know. I wanted him back. I...Begged for him to come back. But...

Dean: Well here he is.

Jack: Because of me?

Sam: We don’t know. We don’t know Jack. But we...we think maybe.

Castiel: Thank you Jack.

(Jack walks over to Castiel and hugs him.).

Jack: I missed you so much.

Castiel: Sam and Dean tell me you’re doing well.

Jack: I am. Watch this.

(Jack walks over to the table and levitates a pencil for a few seconds. He chuckles.).

Sam: Wow.

Jack: I can move the pencil. And I found a case. Hunters case.

Dean: What kind of a-

Jack: Zombies. I know what zombies are now. You see?

(He is back at the computer and Dean steps forwards to look.).

Dean: Wait. Where’d you learn to do that?

Jack: By watching you and Sam. Three days ago a vintage pocket watch with a personal inscription was sold at a pawn shop. But when they went to authenticate it they found out that it had been buried with its owner twenty years ago. And when they checked the grave it was empty. Which means...The dead are rising in Dodge City Kansas.

(Dean tries to hide a smile.).

Sam: Right. Or maybe it’s a grave robbery.

Jack: Oh.

Dean: Yeah but we should probably check it out.

Castiel: Wait really?

Dean: Yeah. We’ve done more on less. Besides Dodge City’s kind of uh kind of awesome. All right two salty hunters, one half angel kid and a dude who just came back from the dead. Again. Team Free Will 2.0 here we go.

Castiel: Right.

(Castiel looks around.).

Castiel: Is Anya here? How’s Emily been doing?

Sam: Emily’s fine. Anya didn’t tell her that you’d died.

Dean: Which is a good thing. Seeing as how you’re back from the dead again.

Sam: Yeah that would have been confusing.

Dean: Um. She’s been missing her dad though.

Castiel: I better go and see them before we leave.

Dean: They’re not here.

Castiel: Oh.

Dean: She’s gone to Kim’s. Been there for a few days. Think she needed to get out of here for a while. She hasn’t been doing too well since you...

Castiel: Oh. I should probably get over there.

Sam: You probably should.

Dean: We’ll drop you off on our way.

Castiel: Thank you.

 (Dean pulls up outside Kim’s place.).

Castiel: Wait for me here. I won’t be long.

Dean: What?

Castiel: The case in Dodge City. I’m coming with you.

Dean: Look Cass we can handle it. You should spend some time with your daughter.

Castiel: You may need my help.

Sam: Your daughter needs you. She hasn’t seen you for ages.

Castiel: I know.

Jack: You should stay.

Castiel: Jack.

Jack: No. Anya was devastated when you died. She’s been struggling and she told me that you’re never there for Emily. You should spend some time with them. We’ll be fine.

(Castiel seems to struggle with himself for a moment. Dean sighs.).

Dean: We’ll wait for you.

Castiel: Thank you.

(Castiel gets out of the car and walks up to the front door. Dean sighs.).

Dean: He should be staying with them not coming with us on a hunt. He’s only just got back.

Sam: Yeah. But you know Cass. He tries to be there for all of us.

Dean: Yeah well we don’t need him right now.

 (Anya is sat at Kim’s kitchen table with a glass of wine. Emily is playing in the lounge with Kim’s two children Pearl and Micah. Someone knocks on the front door then a few minutes later she hears Kim’s heels coming down the hall.).

Kim: Anya!

Anya: What’s wrong?

(Anya stands up as Kim enters the kitchen. Anya gasps and stands frozen as Castiel walks in behind her.).

Kim: Look who’s here.

Castiel: Hello Anya.

Anya: Cass...

(Tears fill her eyes.).

Anya: It can’t be you.

Castiel: It is.

Kim: I did check to see if he was a demon or shifter. You know a girl can’t be too careful.

Castiel: It’s really me.

Anya: I know. But...How?

Castiel: We think Jack bought me back.

Anya: Jack? How?

Castiel: We don’t know.

Anya: I...I’ve missed you so much.

(She flies into his arms and clings to him tightly.).

Anya: I can’t believe you’re back. Where were you?

Castiel: In the empty.

Anya: Empty? And Jack got you out?

Castiel: Maybe. All I know is that I annoyed an ancient cosmic being so much that it kicked me out. Sent me back here.

(Anya finds herself laughing.).

Anya: Trust you.

(She kisses his cheeks then his lips before burying her head in his shoulder again.).

Anya: Don’t you ever leave us again. Emily has been so upset. It’s been a bugger to get her to go to bed.

Castiel: I’m sorry.

Anya: I’m so glad you’re back.

(She grabs a fistful of his hair and clings to him as she starts to sob.).

Castiel: It’s okay.

Anya: No. It isn’t.

Kim: It’s good to have you back Cass. I’ve missed seeing you around here.

Castiel: It’s good to be back.

(Anya pulls away from him.).

Anya: Emily will be so happy to see you. This is gonna make her day.

(She smiles. He smiles back.).

Castiel: I’ll just go and see her before I leave.

Anya: Leave?

Kim: You don’t have to go.

Castiel: Sam, Dean and Jack are waiting outside in the car. We have a case in Dodge City.

Anya: How can you do this? Just come in here say hey I’m back then leave again?

Castiel: I just want to help Sam and Dean. And I haven’t had the chance to properly meet Jack yet.

Anya: We’ve just got you back. Now you’re leaving again.

Castiel: I know. I’m sorry.

(Emily comes in and gasps.).

Emily: Daddy!

(She races over and throws herself at Castiel’s legs. He laughs and bends down to pick her up. Emily hits him.).

Castiel: Ow. What was that for?

Emily: For leaving us! Silly!

Castiel: I’m sorry. I was very busy. I had some important things to do.

Emily: More important than me and mommy?

(Anya raises her eyebrows. Kim laughs.).

Kim: Damn she’s turning into a sassy little thing.

Anya: Oh yes.

Castiel: I’m back now.

Emily: Can we play Lego?

Castiel: Well...Maybe later.

Emily: You’re going again aren’t you?

Castiel: Yes. I’m sorry.

Emily: No!

(Emily looks sad. Then she starts to cry.).

Castiel: Oh no. Don’t cry. I just need to go out with Sam, Dean and Jack. I’ll be back soon.

Emily: Why can’t you stay here?

Castiel: Because I need to help them. I’ve missed them too.

Anya: He can play Lego with you when he gets back. Then we can watch a movie and eat sweets.

Emily: Yeah!

(Castiel smiles. Emily hugs him.).

Emily: I love you daddy.

Castiel: I love you too.

(He puts her down and turns to Anya.).

Castiel: I’ll be back as soon as I can.

Anya: You better be. Then you are gonna sit with us and watch her favourite movies. And play Lego.

Castiel: Yes.

Anya: You stay safe.

Castiel: I will.

(He turns and goes to leave the room.).

Emily: Daddy. You haven’t given mommy a kiss.

Castiel: Oh.

(Kim laughs.).

Anya: Why don’t you go and play with your Lego. We’ll see daddy soon okay?

(Anya still has tears in her eyes.).

Emily: Kiss!

(Castiel lets out a small laugh then walks back over to Anya. She stares at him. He then leans down and kisses her. She wraps her arms around him and kisses him back.).

Emily: Now me.

(Kim laughs. Castiel turns and smiles at Emily.).

Castiel: Your turn?

Emily: Yes.

(Castiel leans down and kisses Emily on the cheek.).

Emily: Bye daddy.

Castiel: I’ll see you soon.

(Anya walks Castiel to the front door.).

Anya: You come back. You hear me?

Castiel: I will. I promise.

Anya: I love you.

Castiel: I know. I love you too. All of you.

(He smiles then opens the door and walks down the steps. Anya sees Sam, Dean and Jack waiting in the car and she waves. Castiel turns and smiles at her before he gets into the car and Dean drives off. Anya sighs and goes back inside. Emily is standing there looking at her.).

Anya: He’ll be back soon.

Emily: I know.

(Emily goes back into the lounge and sits back down with Pearl and Micah. Anya goes back to the kitchen. Kim is sat at the table.).

Kim: How you doing?

Anya: Great. I finally get him back. Emily finally sees her dad again then he’s gone.

Kim: I know. He’s an ass sometimes. But he’s our ass. And I know he cares about you. He cares about all of us.

Anya: I know. I just wish...Emily is always in that bunker. She’s always having her dad come and go. I...

Kim: She’s okay Anya. She takes it in her stride.

Anya: Does she? It upsets her.

Kim: Hey. I didn’t have my dad around growing up. Look at me. I’m okay.

Anya: Um.

Kim: I can’t believe he kissed you.

(Anya laughs.).

Anya: I’d almost forgotten what it felt like.

Kim: To be kissed? Damn girl. You need to get out more.

(Anya laughs.).

Anya: Shut up. He only did it to make Emily happy. It doesn’t mean he...

(Anya takes a sip of her wine.).

Kim: Well he just doesn’t know what he’s missing. Anyway it’s Emily that’s important. It doesn’t matter if the two of you are seeing each other or not. You’re both great parents.

(Anya smiles.).

Anya: Thanks. I’m just glad he’s back. I don’t know what I’d do without him.

Kim: I’ve seen what you’d do without him.

Anya: Have I been that bad?

Kim: I know you’ve been struggling to cope. But you’ve hid it well.

Anya: I had to. For Emily.

Kim: I know. Well he’s back now and as soon as he’s done with this hunt he’ll be back and having movie nights with you again.

Anya: We haven’t done that for ages.

Kim: Am I invited?

Anya: What?

(Kim laughs.).

Kim: Kidding.

Anya: You can come over if you like. You’re always welcome at the bunker.

Kim: I know.

(They smile then get up and go to the lounge.).

Emily: Look mommy I drew me, you and daddy.

(Emily shows her a crayon drawing. Anya smiles and takes it.).

Anya: That’s really good.

Kim: That’s definitely going on the fridge.

(Anya smiles.).

#Supernatural #My Writing #Writing #fanfic #Castiel #Castiel x OC #Castiel x Anya #Anya Winchester #Jack Kline #Dean Winchester #Sam Winchester #Supernatural fanfic #not sure if I like this one #Cas and Anya shorts

[ravencastellan]

Chapter two: Colter

Arthur watched as Tink clutched the blanket tighter as Micah kept his teasing up seeing how uncomfortable it made her. His words where out of his mouth before he even released he was speaking, "I'm sure we can find space for her without it resorting to you Micah!" It came out with more aggravation than he intended it to, granted he fucking hated Micah, but something sparked within him, like a wild fire scorching through Blackwater during a drought. He wanted to keep her safe, but hell safe from what? Outlaws, Micah, Himself? "Oh, Shut it Cowpoke, ya just sayin that so you can have er all to yourself. " The need to knock the teeth out of Micah's skull was so tempting but Arthur had to let it go, opting to pull out a cigarette and shut up for the time being. 

 Arthur knew he needed to stop staring at her, he knew eventually someone would get the nerve to ask him why his trail her like a wolf stalking a deer. He pulled the brim of his hat lower, covering his eyes, hoping to avoid anyone else. Her petite frame, stuck between Karen and Abigail, MeryBeth close by, all gossiping and talking about the chores for the next day. "Arthur, need ya a minute son." came Dutch's yanky drawl. 

"Arthur, I need you and Micah with me, to go up a head an scout, find anything we can and bring it back. Might as well see if we can find John too. Get any supplies you might need meet me back at the horses." Dutch stated, walking towards his own white stallion Count. 

Arthur picked his pace up a bit, making his way to his cabin, he was freezing, this weather was horrible, this entire situation is horrible. He wanted to know what happened on that boat, what in Gods name did Dutch do, to have the Pinkertons so hot on the trail. Anxiety was prickling its way in, yes, its normal to have some law on your ass as an outlaw but these Pinkertons where big business. 

Arthurs eye's caught a familiar tan jacket, hunched on the stoop of the men's cabin. Ya, aint gonna get that lit sitting out here ya know." he watched as she fumbled the match, attempting to light it, huffing at it not catching and going out. "Sure, Arthur, thank you." Tink stood to give him better access to the cigarette, "What would I ever do without you Mr. Morgan." a huffed reply while she inhaled. "Survive, I hope." was all he could muster out. "Dutch, seems to be needing you, is he taking Micah too?" Tink's assumption, left him somewaht annoyed, "Yeah, we are going scoutin further up the trail." he mumbled around his own cigarette. "Oh, hey, since you're gonna be out in this cold weather I have something you could use. It's in the wagon though." Tink brushed passed him, walking off the stoop, turning slightly over her shoulder. "Well, are you coming Arthur?" "I'll meet ya over there, I gotta get a few things from my cabin, don't wanna keep dutch waiting too long." was his reply as he keep walking. 

"Cowpoke, you coming or did you finally die from old age?" Micah's taunt came across the walk way. " I aint dead yet, Micah, just grabbing one more thing." Arthur's reply was rather curt  opting to keep the conversation to the minimum.  Arthur's back was to the walk way, blocking most freezing gusts of wind from hitting Tink. "Here Arthur, it should keep you a bit warmer out there, an I guess if you have to share with Micah so he doesn't die out there as well." small hands thrusting a bottle of whiskey into his. "Thanks. An listen, I'm gonna be gone a while, why don't you use my cabin to sleep." Arthur rushed it out, trying to not sound like a fool with the offer. 

"That's your place Arthur, I'll be alright where I am. I might be small, but I can take care of myself ya know. Just focus on what you need to get done, alright." Tink waved him off, going back inside the main cabin to join the others. 

"Arthur, Charles is lending you Tamia, since Boadicea isn't with us anymore." Dutch called out, mounting Count. "Eh, I doubt I will find another horse like Boadicea, but Tamia is a good horse too, Charles trained her well." replied Arthur saddling up.

The ride was mostly silent, Arthur not wanting to converse with the others much. "Hold up, up ahead ya hear it? Voices." Micah pulled his horse to a stop. "Alright, you two dismount, lets take a look at what we have here." Following the other on foot Arthur, they arrived at a homestead with a lot of activity. "Looks like these fellows aint too friendly." Micah's hushed voice came from the right. "Seems not, alright Micah stay near the cart, Arthur, you go by that shed. Stay low and wait for my signal." Dutch stood walking into the lantern light of the cabin.

Guns where drawn and quickly an fire fight ensued. Arthur was busy getting men from the side door and rough while Micah was off somewhere else doing the same. The smell of gun smoke covered the area as each man was desperately trying to take each other out. Arthurs main focus was keeping Dutch alive, he was up front with little cover. Aiming for the attic window, Arthur made quick work of killing the O’driscol perched there, quickly swinging his pistol down to take out a few more from the porch. It was over quickly. “Arthur go check the barn, Micah with me search the house.” Was all Dutch said.

Arthur made his way through the deep snow drifts, slowly turning a bright red from the dead that littered the front yard of the cabin. Entering the barn he found a single horse spooked by the fire fight. “Easy, Boy easy.” Arthur’s calm low voice echoed in the barn. He stood there for several minutes calming the horse down. As he prepared to leave with his new prize an man jumped from the loft. “You killed my brother you son of bitch!” A fist fight quickly erupting, each man fighting to bring the other down. Arthur took several blows to face, failing to block the frenzied man before him. The horses freighters neighs echoed as the fight continued.

[ttuesday]

Hi Tuesday!! Can I please request some HCs of the gang members secretly having a crush on you, and at a party one night you find out about it when Sean drunkingly yells “hey everybody! <characters name> is in love with y/n!!” Hope this made sense!! Xx

Arthur

There is no way this is happening, this can’t be happening. That’s what is going through Arthur’s head. This must be a nightmare, there’s no way Sean seriously just shouted that, announcing Arthur loves you in front of everyone. 

Arthur tries to speak, opening his mouth but stumbling over his words. Feeling heat rise to his cheeks, he calls Sean an ass before quickly storming off. Arthur has no idea how he's supposed to recover your friendship after this, certain you won’t want anything to do with him. 

Arthur jumps when you gently say his name, asking if you could sit down beside him. He didn't expect anyone to follow him, least of all you. As you make yourself comfortable next to him, Arthur looks at you with a glimmer of hope in his eyes. 

When you confess your feelings to him, he feels absolutely relieved, mumbling that he should probably thank Sean once he’s sobered up. Holding his hand out to, Arthur smiles shyly and asks if you’d like to dance with him.

Charles

You and Charles always got along. It didn’t take long before you became his most trusted friend in the gang, going on jobs together and spending hours talking with one another. That’s why he didn’t want to tell you about his feelings, he was scared it could jeopardize your friendship.

But when Charles no longer had a say in whether you found out or not and Sean announces it to everyone, Charles mutters a curse to himself and practically chugs the rest of his drink. He quickly brings you away from the group, apologizing for Sean and telling you how much he wishes you found out a better way. 

Scratching the back of his neck, Charles admits that what Sean said is true but he doesn’t want to lose your friendship, hoping that whether you return his feelings or not you’ll still be friends with him. 

You laugh lightly, mentioning how you actually thought Sean was going to yell about your crush on Charles, not the other way around. Charles smiles, thankful you feel the same way but makes sure you know he doesn’t want to pressure you into a relationship and wants to take things nice and slow.

Dutch

Dutch freezes in place, a mixed look on his face that's hard to read. Dutch likes being in control so he hates that Sean did this. You can't quite tell if Dutch is about to laugh or if he's wondering how suspicious it would look if he coincidentally left Sean for dead on the next robbery. 

Putting a tight smile on his face, Dutch sarcastically thanks Sean for his wise choice of words before insisting everyone carries on with the party.

Dutch wastes no time approaching you and apologizing for Sean’s announcement. He bashfully admits that yes, he finds you very attractive but that the last thing he wants is for this to come in between your friendship with him.

When you tell him you feel the same way, Dutch plays it cool. He keeps his cards close to his chest, his eyes lingering over you as a smirk forms on his face. Lowering his voice, Dutch asks “Then could I perhaps, ask for a kiss?”.

Micah

For a few seconds, Micah says nothing, trying his absolute best to resist the urge to shoot Sean. Because this is Micah, he goes on the attack and airs everyone's dirty laundry in the hopes that'll turn people's attention away from what Sean said.

He tells everyone about Sean and Karen getting it on in John's tent (thanks to a drunken Bill mentioning it to him) causing an argument between Sean and John. Then Micah starts going on about Hosea doubting Dutch and Abigail asking Arthur to take Jack fishing instead of asking John. When everyone starts arguing with one another, Micah sneaks off and disappears for the rest of the night. 

It’s the next morning when you see Micah and he actively avoids you, presuming there's no way you reciprocate the feelings. Whenever you’re near him, he gets defensive and won't mention what Sean says unless you do.

When you finally confess your feelings to him, you do it in the heat of the moment, getting pissed off at how much Micah’s avoiding you. Glancing around to make sure no one else is listening in, Micah suggests you both go discuss these feeling in the saloon *wink wink*.

John

John turns his attention to Sean first, yelling if he really thinks this is the best time to say that in front of everyone. He’s not necessarily mad but definitely annoyed and embarrassed.

John then turns his attention to you, asking Sean if he thinks you want this revelation dropped on you out of nowhere and that he should have considered how you would feel in all of this. When Sean just laughs in response, too drunk to care, John gives you an apologetic look before walking away from the crowd.

He’s sulking but if you say that then John will completely deny sulking, no matter how obvious it is. Quietly, you tell him you feel the same way. John just stares at you for a few seconds, eyes wide and it’s kinda like he’s frozen. 

Coming to his senses, John asks you to repeat yourself, not believing he heard you right the first time. As your words sink in, he laughs in disbelief before quickly apologising for laughing.

Javier

Javier was busy playing his guitar when Sean decided to yell about how much Javier loves you. As soon as he hears this, Javier accidentally messed up the chord, making everyone turn to him.

He feels wrong if he were to walk away and leave you to everyone’s questions and opinions. Javier stands up and embraces the moment.

Javier tells you how he wishes he had more control over the situation but that he does love you and he’s loved for a long time now. Scared of making things worse, he says how you don’t need to tell him (and everyone else who’s listening) how you feel right now.

When you speak up and say you feel the same, Javier feels like he might faint he’s so happy. He hugs you, softly asking if you’d like to talk somewhere more private. Javier wants to make sure you know he likes you for you and that he doesn’t want you to feel pressured or anything like that.

Sean

Sean really thought this would be a good idea. He remembered Mary-Beth mentioning how the romantic interest in one of the books she was reading stood up in front of everyone and professed his love for the main character. He thought it was a great idea and decided he’d recreate it for you.

Sean nearly falls off the crate as he stands up on it and sways from side to side. Making sure he has everyone's attention, he gestures to you and tells you how he truly feels about you. 

Sean is a man who wears his heart on his sleeve so he doesn't hold back, mentioning how you make him feel and how he promises to treat you like royalty if you give him the chance.

After confessing his love for you, Sean awkwardly stands there and smiles. He was very confident while he telling everyone how he feels but waiting for your reaction is nerve-wracking for him. Swallowing a lump in his throat he says, "So?".

Trelawny

The one goddamn time Trelawny's around camp for a party, this happens. He didn't realize his love for you was so obvious, feeling somewhat embarrassed that even Sean could tell he was pining after you.

He awkwardly thanks Sean for providing such dramatic entertainment for everyone before asking if you would like to talk somewhere private. Josiah starts rambling when he's alone with you, trying his best to control the damage of Sean's statement. 

In between his ramblings, he mentions how excited he would be if you felt the same way but that he wouldn't dream of putting you under any pressure nor would he expect you to give him an answer tonight. 

He keeps talking, barely catching his breath in between each sentence. Deciding you’ve heard enough, you grab Josiah by the collar and pull him in for a kiss, finally making him stop talking.

Hosea

Hosea sighs, running his hand over his face before ordering Sean off the crate he stood on especially to give this announcement. Instead of facing you, Hosea prefers to waste some time scolding Sean. He knows he should just talk to you about this but he's scared of your reaction.

Once Hosea lectures Sean and makes sure he won't cause anymore trouble, Hosea tries to sneak off to the outskirts of camp. If someone else was in this situation and asked Hosea for advice, he would say the worst thing to do would be avoid you yet here he is, doing exactly that.

When you finally find him, Hosea apologizes and says that it was completely inappropriate for Sean to do that not only to Hosea but to you too. 

The last thing Hosea wants is for you to feel embarrassed in all of this too. Telling him you love him too, Hosea’s jaw drops. Your words sinking in, he smiles warmly and rests his hand on top of yours.

Kieran

“Christ…” Kieran mutters, feeling everyone’s eyes on him. Sean’s teased him in the past about how much he likes you but he didn’t think Sean would do this. 

Bill “playfully” shoves Kieran, saying some comment he doesn’t hear properly. Looking over at you, Kieran can’t find the right words and opts to leave the situation.

When the party dies down, Kieran approaches you and says sorry for leaving so quickly. He’s open and honest with you, letting you know he is in love with you but that he doesn’t want you to feel obliged to reciprocate the feelings. And Kieran assures you that if you need some space then he’s fine with distancing himself for a while, willing to do whatever you see best.

You stop him as he rambles on about giving you space, confessing that you like him too. Kieran’s gobsmacked, smiling from ear to ear and suggests he takes you on a proper date tomorrow to hopefully make up for everything being revealed this way.

#thank you anon <333 #loved this idea #idk if I phrased it right saying Javier messed up the chord #cause I ain’t musical in the slightest #but I did confer with my brother who plays the piano #which isn’t the guitar but idk I tried #writings #headcanons #arthur morgan #charles smith #dutch van der linde #micah bell #john marston #javier escuella #sean macguire #josiah trelawny #hosea matthews #kieran duffy

[queenxxxsupreme]

Daisies (Arthur Morgan x f!reader)

A/N: Honestly couldn’t tell you where this came from..... The italics is just Arthur reciting the poem. Here is where to go if you’d like to add yourself to my taglist. Here is my Red Dead Redemption Masterlist.

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: fluff, absolute fluff, some kissing in a field but nothing NSFW

Summary: In a field of daisies, Arthur reads poetry to you. 

The evening sun was warm as it filtered through the green tree leaves. A warm summer breeze came from the lake, moving through the patch of daisies you sat in like a tender whisper. 

Down by the edge of the water, you could spot a buck with his head dipped down to drink from the lake. The beautiful animal was obvious to you and to Arthur, who was reading from one of your poetry books. 

You were sitting up and leaning back on one hand while Arthur was laying between your legs, his head resting comfortably on your thigh. 

“You sure I’m speakin’ English?” He looked up at you as he turned the page.

“It’s just poetry, darling.” You smiled, brushing your fingers along his cheek. “Keep going. The next one is my favorite.” 

Arthur adjusted his hold on the book, fixing how he had it propped up on his abdomen, and let out a small breath. 

“How Do I Love Thee, by Elizabeth Barrett Browning.”

Your fingertips traced an invisible like from his temple down to his jaw. You enjoyed the way the muscles in his cheek and jaw moved as he spoke. 

“How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height my soul can reach when feeling out of sight.”

His jaw was stubbly and graying, a telltale sign he’d need to shave soon. He liked to stay clean shaven, especially in the heat of Lemoyne. 

“Doll, I don’t know what any of this means.” He sighed in frustration, 

“Just keep going.” You encouraged, letting your hand travel from his face down to his chest. Your nimble fingers slipped beneath his shirt. You were thankful he had left the top few buttons undone. The coarse, dark hair that littered his chest was a stark contrast to your soft skin. 

“For the ends of Being….” You started and trailed off, knowing exactly where he was without needing to look at the book. 

“For the ends of Being and ideal Grace, I love thee to the level of everyday’s most quiet need, by sun and candlelight.”

Your eyes lifted to watch the buck move away from the lake and disappear over the hill. 

As you traced shapes against Arthur’s chest, you felt a ridge, a raise in his skin. It was a scar just above his sternum. 

“I love thee freely, as men strive for Right. I love thee purely as they turn from Praise. I love thee with the passion put to use in my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith. I love thee with a love I seemed to lose with my lost saints, - I love thee with the breath, smiles, tears, of all my life. And if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death.”

As he finished the poem, you looked down at him, a little smile pulling at your lips. 

“I think it’s a very lovely piece. Don’t you agree?” 

Arthur put the book aside and turned over on to his stomach. He pushed himself up on to his knees, bringing his face level with yours. 

“I think you’re a very lovely piece.” He pressed a kiss to your lips.

“Arthur.” You giggled against him, trying to steady yourself with all of your support on one hand behind your. Your other hand was on his chest, weakly pushing against him. You weren’t really trying to push him away, but he was about to knock you over. 

“Damn it, woman.” He grunted, not bothering to pull away so he could talk properly. His words came out muffled against your lips. “Forget how stubborn you are.” He reached around you and grabbed your arm that you were leaning against, effectively knocking you back. 

You squealed as you fell backwards onto the daisies. 

Arthur followed you, not so elegantly landing on top of you. His lips found yours almost immediately, drawing another giggle from you as he kissed you. He carefully positioned one elbow by your ear to hold himself up so he wouldn’t completely crush you beneath his weight. His other hand started innocently at your hip, but then he trailed down to your knee and drew your leg up along his side. 

“Why can’t people just say it normal?” His mouth left yours, trailing featherlike kisses along your jaw. You shivered and goosebumps broke out along your skin.

“Say-Say what normal?” 

“That you love someone.” His touch found the scar in your hairline left by one of the times you were ambushed by the O’Driscolls. “Make it easier than some silly poem.”

You opened your eyes as you felt his lips pull away from you. He lifted his head just a little, cornflower blue eyes peering down at you. 

“People have all sorts of different ways of sayin’ they love someone.” You reached up to trace Arthur’s lips. “You don’t gotta say the words.”

“But it seems easy enough.” He muttered, trying his best to not move his lips as you traced them with your index. 

“It was hard for you to say it.” You reminded him. Your hand trailed around to the back of his neck. “When I…. When I said it first, you said you felt the same…. But you couldn’t say them. It was like the words were molasses stuck in your chest. That’s how you described it, at least.”

A little furrow formed in his brow as he moved, sitting beside you instead of laying on top of you. He combed his fingers through his blond hair. His eyes flickered around, surveying his immediate surroundings. 

There were ducks gathered by the lake, quacking and waddling as they moved about. 

“I just…. I don’t know.” He shrugged his broad shoulders. “Can’t tell you why I couldn’t, pumpkin.”

“It’s okay, Arthur.” You sat up and reached over to put your hand on his knee. “I understand. Sometimes we aren’t ready at the same time someone else is. Don’t mean there’s anything wrong with us.”

He pulled a daisy from the ground and examined it. His lips pressed together in a firm line as he thought about whatever was clouding his mind. Then he looked up at you and tucked the flower behind your ear. 

“I knew I loved you long before I told you.” He admitted, hands falling back to his lap. You smiled, feeling your chest swell at his tender words. 

“Was there a certain thing that let you know?” You sat up on your knees and moved to lay your head in his lap. You wanted to be close to him again, to touch him, to have his hands on you in some way. 

The second your head found his lap, he brushed his hand over your hair, careful not to mess up the braid you had worked so hard on earlier in the day. 

“I don’t know.” He tilted his head to the side a little as he looked down at you. “Seein’ ya kick Micah’s ass just before Blackwater was pretty mesmerizin’.” 

You took one of his hands, placing it over your heart. Your eyes fluttered shut and you silently wondered if he could feel your heart racing. 

“I think it was a lot of little things.” Arthur continued, taking the opportunity to admire your features. The little lines left behind near your eyes from years of smiling in your youth. The little scars left here and there from your less than safe life since meeting the outlaw. The barely noticeable smile on your lips. “It was just…. I don’t know, pumpkin. It was you.” 

Your eyes opened and you found his gaze. 

“You sound like you could make a beautiful poetry book someday.” You reached up to cup his cheek. 

He turned his head to kiss your palm.

“Maybe…. for you.” He whispered against your skin. 

His eyes caught sight of the sun disappearing over the horizon, signaling the day was nearly over. “We should head back to camp before they send someone out here.”

“Oh, and we wouldn’t want that.” You sighed as you sat up, your tone teasing. “What would happen if the boys found ole Arthur Morgan readin’ poetry to a girl in a field of daisies?”

Arthur groaned at the thought, shaking his head as he picked up his hat from the ground and put it on his head. He picked up the poetry book and tucked it under one arm, then held his other arm out for you. 

“Don’t make me think about that.” 

“Don’t worry, Mr. Morgan.” You tucked one hand into the crook of his elbow. “I’d never let it slip that you were a gentleman. It’d look bad on your sparkling criminal record.” 

“That’s mighty kind of you, Ms.Y/L/N.” He leaned down to kiss your forehead as he guided you back towards camp.

Taglist: @winterwolf @doggone-cowgirl @lauramb7 @caraqas @bluscryn

#red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 fic #rdr2 fic #red dead redemption 2 drabble #rdr2 drabble #arthur morgan drabble #arthur morgan fic #arthur morgan fluff #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x reader fluff #oneshot #queenxxxsupreme

[solarisgod]

    "      give me one reason why i shouldn't shoot ,      "

a cold threat is given , cutting , bringing it into facing the masked being , their weapon locked on it . its awareness flickers faintly — does not tell anything to it that can show they are part of the infernal infinity ... while everyone does what they can to rest more behind the walls , phobos has been the only one in the starwake system who is trying to search for anything that can lead them to the group , even if it involves being at a place where it shouldn't be at all .

it is how phobos eventually meets @reapar in the past dead night , although if this person isn't affiliated with the infernal infinity , these damned fucking sinners , then why should it care enough to play with death through their given destructions ? still , they may as well get the waiting over with & shoot phobos , so it can have a chance to finally free its rage from everything that has happened to micah . it has to remember , though — everything will only get worst if it is the one who falls back to meaningless violence . it can never again .

"      i have worst things & people to be more concerned about ,      " phobos sharply replies to them , hellfire holding with teeth bared , "      & there's nothing in you that i'm interested to have a fight over .  is that reason good enough , or do you need me to give you a better reason why you really shouldn't shoot me ?     " it takes a deadly step closer , as if pleading them to pull the trigger to its head .

#ASK TO TAG CW #GUNS CW #AXILLERY #REAPAR #/// #// #𓁹 ༑ ࿐ྂ ⩇⩇ : ⩇⩇ ⚠︎ [ 𝙴𝚇𝙸(𝚂)𝚃 : 𝙶𝙾𝙳 ] * ‹ IC . › #𓁹 ༑ ࿐ྂ ⩇⩇ : ⩇⩇ ⚠︎ [ 𝙴𝚇𝙸(𝚂)𝚃 : 𝙶𝙾𝙳 ] * ‹ V : MAIN / ACT I.II. . › #𓁹 ༑ ࿐ྂ ⩇⩇ : ⩇⩇ ⚠︎ [ 𝙴𝚇𝙸(𝚂)𝚃 : 𝙶𝙾𝙳 ] * ‹ ANSWERS . › #𓁹 ༑ ࿐ྂ ⩇⩇ : ⩇⩇ ⚠︎ [ 𝙴𝚇𝙸(𝚂)𝚃 : 𝙶𝙾𝙳 ] * ‹ PHOBOS . › #[ ✨ : wrowza.......................... ] #[ very curious and interested to see how Reaper will be developed ; your original characters are always top notch <3 ] #[ Phobos... woof... orz ]

[vanserraseris]

END OF PART XIV - I feel like I should say that things don’t really get any happier?? A few years have passed since the last part and Eris is a little ooc. Just a warning that there are mentions of character death and blood. Thank you to everyone who reads.

omfg i am SO sorry it took me forever to get this part up. anyway im crying

Prince of Ashes. Part XIV.

masterlist.

Eris sat on his stool once more, the old wooden legs creaking under his weight. He was well aware that the small, ugly tavern was well below an acceptable place for him to be, but he’d needed a break. Pity, Eris thought, that he hadn’t been able to find one. He shook his head, little pieces of broken glass falling from his hair and onto the sticky bar top. He felt blood dripping down the side of his face and wiped it away with the back of his hand.

The female behind the bar had pressed herself up against one of the shelves, had put as much distance between the two of them as was possible. Eris simply pushed the glass in front of him towards her, no emotion in his voice as he said, “I’ll have another, if you don’t mind.” Her brown eyes widened before she whirled around, quickly grabbing the already open bottle of cognac behind her. With shaking hands, she poured the drink into his glass.

Eris could hear her rapidly beating heart and scowled, bringing the glass to his lips and draining its contents. The female rushed to refill his glass just as the doors to the tavern opened. Eris didn’t turn to see who it was, he didn’t have to. He recognized his friend’s scent, scrunching his nose as he wiped at more blood that dripped down his face. Eris’s ears twitched at the sound of Lagos walking towards him, his boot-clad feet crunching the broken pieces of glass on the floor.

Eris tried not to breathe in too deeply as Lagos pulled a stool towards the bar, the wooden legs dragging through a pool of blood, it’s iron scent burning through Eris’s nose. 

“Have you been doing that all day?” Lagos sounded very disappointed as he sat down. 

Eris wasn’t entirely sure whether Lagos was talking about the drinking, or about the two dozen faeries he’d killed. It didn’t really matter, his answer remained the same, “Just started.”

“It’s unlike you to drink without company.”

Eris raised a brow, turning his head in his friend’s direction, but looking past him. Eris stared at the dead faerie slumped against the dark wood of the bar as he spoke, “Are you here to join me?”

Lagos sighed, moving so that Eris could look at him instead. “I’m here, Eris, because Rufus told us where you’d be. He’s worried, we’re worried, and you won’t tell any of us a thing.”

Eris scowled, turning away from him to face the female behind the bar.

She was staring at him differently now, the fact that she recognized who he was evident in her lovely features. “How much for the whole bottle?”

“Ten coppers,” she said, voice clear despite her obvious nerves.

Eris shoved his hand into the back pocket of his brown pants, placing ten gold marks on the table instead. “I’m buying the bottle and I’m buying your silence.” Eris made sure there were flames in his eyes as he looked at her.

Eris hadn’t known that the rebels he was looking for would be sitting in the tavern he’d entered. They’d paused at his arrival, their loud talking turning into hushed murmuring as he’d sat at the bar. Eris had seen the leader, had recognized her from the large scar over her brow, and wished he hadn’t. They’d all put up a good fight, would have made excellent warriors had they not chosen to fight against Beron.

Eris had decided to spare the young female behind the bar, the only survivor, because she’d reminded Eris of his mother. She placed the bottle in front of him, nearly dropping it as she said, “Yes, my prince.”

“I think it would be best if you left,” Lagos advised, tilting his head towards the door.

Eris only briefly watched the female as she grabbed the gold, as she scrambled out of the tavern, stepping over a dead male as she practically ran away from the bar.

Eris sniffed, swirling the cognac in the bottle as he slowly pushed his full glass towards Lagos. Instead of speaking, Eris chose to lift the heavy bottle to his lips.

“You aren’t going to find happiness at the bottom of that bottle,” Lagos muttered, running a hand through his long, dark hair. The gold tattoos on each of his fingers seemed brighter than usual in the gloom of the tavern.

Eris rolled his eyes, “I’m not trying to find happiness.” He raised the bottle in his friend’s direction before he took a long drink, “I’m trying to drown my sorrows.”

Lagos furrowed his brows, “I think you’ve had enough.”

“I’ve definitely not had enough.” Eris shook his head, the scent of blood making him dizzy. Perhaps if he drank a little more, he wouldn’t be able to smell it. “I finally understand why Cato was always in such a foul mood, though.”

“Eris—”

“The High Lord has me taking over some of his duties,” Eris waved a hand, eyes scanning the small space around him, looking over all the dead faeries. Eris hadn’t known the extent of what his father had been making Cato do all these years, had never bothered to ask his younger brother what his duties had been outside of questioning prisoners at The Forest House. Being in Cato’s shoes as Beron worked to find his replacement had Eris feeling absolutely dreadful.

Lagos took a deep breath, “This is what Cato did?” Of course Lagos would be horrified. Eris had been sent to the small town outside Calchas to find the steadily growing rebel group, and had been ordered to kill them if he did. Rebel groups in Autumn seemed to be getting more and more popular; Eris wasn’t surprised.

Eris faced his friend, looked into his dark brown eyes. “Horrible enough to drive anyone mad, isn’t it?”

“It would explain why you yelled at Rufus this morning.”

“Fuck off, Lagos,” Eris snapped, “Honestly, if you’re here because Rufus is worried, you’ve come here in vain.”

“I’m here,” Lagos snarled, “Because if Rufus can’t get through to you, I’m not sure anyone else can.” Eris couldn’t count the times his friends had tried to talk to him after Lucien had left Autumn, after Cato and Owain had been killed. Eris hadn’t wanted to talk to them, had pushed them away when they tried.

Eris huffed a humourless laugh, “You don’t have to worry about me, I’m fine.”

“Evidently,” Lagos grabbed the bottle from Eris’s hand just as he’d been about to bring it to his lips, “Of course you’re fine, Mother forbid anyone worry about you.” He slammed the bottle onto the bar.

“Don’t start with this shit again,” Eris was tired, he’d had a long day, he didn’t want to listen to anything Lagos had to tell him — he’d heard it all before.

“This is an intervention,” Lagos waved his hand, “I’m intervening. I’m not going to sit here and watch you drink, following your father’s orders as you try to win a throne you’ve never wanted.”

Eris wiped at the blood on his face again. “Who says I don’t want it?”

“You!” Lagos raised his voice a bit, “You’ve been saying it since I’ve known you!”

“Well, I changed my mind,” Eris ran a hand through his hair, he’d given this issue much thought lately.

“I’m going to steal my father’s crown and I’m going to rule Autumn.” Beron wasn’t good for this court, he’d always been too selfish, too power-hungry, too cruel. Maddox wouldn’t be a good High Lord, he was better off leading the Royal Guard. Priam was just as likely to abandon Autumn as he was to rule it well. And Rufus didn’t want the throne, even if Eris thought he would be the best one on it.

Lagos sounded frustrated as he said, “And how do you plan on doing that?”

Eris flashed his friend a smile, “Not sure yet, but I’m a patient male, Lagos. I’ll wait another 300 years for that crown if I have to.” Eris had never been humble, it was easy for him to see that he was the only reasonable option, the only one of his brothers who could be a decent High Lord after he got rid of Beron.

Lagos sighed, reaching out with a hand, “Eris—”

Eris growled when Lagos placed that hand on his arm, “Don’t touch me.”

“I’m taking you home,” Lagos snapped, no longer touching him though, “Obviously, we need to talk. Unless you’d like to fight this out, just like we used to.”

“Tempting,” Eris lifted his chin, “But I just spent a good hour fighting out my anger.” That, and Eris had never beaten Lagos in a fight, and they’d fought countless times in the years they’d known each other.

“Fine, let’s just,” he held his hand out to Eris, an offering, “Let’s go home.”

There was a time where Eris would have taken his friend’s hand without question. Lagos, who had stayed by his side for nearly three centuries and was in danger because of it. Eris looked at Lagos and saw a brother, just another brother he could disappoint, another brother he could fail. Eris pushed his stool away from the bar, “You’ll have to drag me there,” he declared as he stood up.

Lagos rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt, “Don’t fucking test me, Eris, I’ll do it.”

Eris waved a hand dismissively, “Go ahead.”

Eris hadn’t truly believed Lagos would do it, but when he fell to the ground, the back of his head smacking against the hardwood floor of the tavern, he guessed he’d been wrong about how much shit Lagos was willing to take from him before he snapped.

“What the fuck?” Eris snarled, kicking out one of his long legs.

“You fucking asked for it,” Lagos said through clenched teeth, his arms around Eris’s torso as a bright light flared around them.

Eris vaguely realized that Lagos had winnowed them somewhere, most likely to the yard outside his cottage.

Eris and Lagos tumbled and rolled in the long grass, fists flying. They were both punching and hitting and swearing, Eris was keeping a tight leash on his flames the whole time, still self aware enough to prevent burning one of his best friends. Eris heard Micah, would have recognized his voice anywhere, as he called out to them.

“Following orders blindly,” Lagos growled as he tried to pin Eris underneath him, “Being horrible to Rufus, ignoring your mother.” They tumbled a little more in the grass, “You’re better than this.”

Eris pushed Lagos roughly with one of his hands, “Am I?” Eris didn’t really think he was, not after all the things he’d done. Eris wasn’t a good male, that much he was certain of.

Before Lagos could respond, he was wrenched off Eris by a livid Widge. “I can’t believe you would fucking do that.”

Eris sat up, raking a hand through his now messy hair. He couldn’t remember the last time Widge had been angry, and almost felt bad for having played a part in it. Micah got down on his knees beside him, placed a hand on his shoulder, it took all of Eris’s strength not to shrug him off.

“You can’t seriously be angry at me,” Lagos growled, staring up at Widge, incredulous. “Our friend just killed over twenty people — decent, hopeful, hard-working people — because they wanted to overthrow the worst High Lord in Prythian, and you’re angry at me?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Widge started, “But I think we’re all old enough to use our words instead of our fists.”

Micah shook his head, looking at Lagos with furrowed brows, “This isn’t what I had in mind when I said we needed to work things out.” Eris stiffened at the thought that his friends had been discussing him when he wasn’t there, but Micah continued speaking, anger clear in his tone. “I’m certain this was uncalled for, Lagos.”

Lagos threw his hands in the air, “You’re on his side?” Lagos seemed more surprised than hurt, “Why are you on his side, Micah?”

Micah sighed, his other hand coming up to rest on Eris’s arm. “Because he’s upset.”

“I’m not upset, why would I be upset?” They all seemed content to ignore Eris as they continued talking.

Lagos snorted, “Right, that’s the reason.”

Micah flushed, opening his mouth to respond, but Widge spoke first. “I think everyone needs to just take a breath,” he helped Lagos to his feet.

“You can take a breath, I’m not done speaking,” Lagos muttered.

Widge looked slightly panicked as he brushed some dirt off of the other male. “Enough, Lagos, just… just stop for a minute.”

Lagos ignored him, turned to face Eris, brown eyes glowing gold, “I always saw through your unbothered, arrogant, asshole act. Always. Tonight, I could not.” Lagos shook his head, “Keep the mask on long enough, Eris, and you forget what’s underneath.”

Eris held his oldest friend’s gaze, “There’s no mask.” Eris wasn’t some secret hero, he wasn’t some misunderstood male with good intentions, “I’m just my father’s son.”

Micah tightened his hold on Eris’s shoulder, “Lagos,” he said in the tone he usually reserved for ordering soldiers around, “Leave him alone.”

Lagos didn’t look like he wanted to leave Eris alone, he looked like he wanted to hit him.

Eris couldn’t blame him, but he felt oddly at peace knowing that he’d probably pushed Lagos too far. “I’m leaving,” Lagos muttered, “I’ll return when you snap out of whatever mood you’re currently in,” that statement directed at Eris. Eris wasn’t planning on snapping out of his mood anytime soon, but he watched as Lagos winnowed away without another word, jaw clenched so hard it hurt.

Just as Lagos left, Micah placed gentle fingers on Eris’s chin, moving some of Eris’s hair to look at him closely. “You’re bleeding.” He didn’t need to ask the question he so clearly wanted to, Eris knew what he wanted.

“One of the faeries I killed tonight threw a bottle at me,” Eris mumbled as Micah tilted his head to the side, trying to get a better look, “She had a very good arm.”

“It’s very unlike you to follow such orders,” Micah’s emerald eyes looked troubled.

Micah wasn’t wrong, Eris had gotten very good at talking his way out of orders he didn’t like. Eris felt blood trickle down the side of his face, and Micah leaned closer to him, pressed the clean sleeve of his shirt against Eris’s brow.

“My father doesn’t trust me.”

“Do you want him to?” Micah stopped pressing his sleeve against Eris’s face, his hand replacing the fabric as he held onto Eris, his thumb resting gently on Eris’s cheekbone.

“I need him to.” Eris hadn’t realized how close he’d gotten to Micah.

“What is the cost?” Eris shuddered when Micah’s thumb slowly stroked his cheekbone, “What will it cost you?”

Eris knew the cost. He hadn’t been determined enough, hadn’t been focused enough on becoming High Lord all these years. He’d liked spending time with his friends, liked spending time with Rufus and Lucien. He’d liked trying to charm pretty females and handsome males, liked getting wasted on faerie wine and pixie.

He needed his father to trust him — that was the first step in taking his crown — and that meant Eris needed to get his hands dirty, needed to follow those orders with a smile on his face. Eris knew what it would cost — his friends, his brothers, his mother — and he was prepared to pay the price. Eris looked into Micah’s clear green eyes as he answered, “Everything that matters.” Micah bit the inside of his bottom lip, nodding once.

Eris froze when Micah inched closer to him, their noses almost touching, eyes half-lidded. “Eris, please—”

Eris didn’t really want to hear what Micah had to say, so he simply decided to close the distance between them. Eris tilted his head, mouth slanting across Micah’s, eyes fluttering shut when he didn’t pull away.

Micah’s lips were soft against Eris’s, the hand cupping Eris’s face was firm as he pulled Eris closer in a breathless gasp. Eris’s tongue brushed against Micah’s, and Eris felt some of the control on his magic slip.

Eris lifted his hand, tangling his fingers in Micah’s light brown hair, everything about the other male familiar. He decided that this would be the last time, his other hand fisted in the blades of grass by Micah’s hand.

With one final tender kiss on Micah’s lips, Eris pulled back, resting his forehead against Micah’s, eyes closed. “I need to sit on that throne,” Eris bit the inside of his cheek, tasting blood. He loosened his hold on Micah’s hair, “Maybe then I can fix this court.”

Micah pulled back, moved his hand so that it rested against Eris’s neck. “You do what you have to, Eris, but I don’t — I know I am selfish for it, but… I don’t think I can sit back and watch you.”

Eris’s eyes snapped open at the sound of Micah’s wavering voice. Micah wasn’t selfish, he was anything but selfish. Eris hadn’t been expecting Micah to be so upset, his cheeks were flushed, tears streaming down his face. Eris had to remind himself that this was for the best, that if he stayed away it would keep him safe.

“Don’t waste your tears on me, Micah,” Eris murmured. He would have kissed them away if he didn’t think it would make things infinitely more difficult.

Micah took a deep breath, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand, “I need to go.” Eris felt the sudden urge to beg him not to. Instead, he just sat frozen as Micah stood to leave.

Eris stared at Micah’s feet as he walked away. He vaguely heard Widge trying to stop him, had nearly forgotten that Widge was still there. He ripped at a patch of grass, loosing a long breath.

Eris was still staring after Micah when Widge dropped down to sit beside him. “They’ll be back.”

“I don’t want them to come back,” Eris snarled, “I want to get rid of you, too.”

“I don’t think it matters what you want,” Widge ran a hand through his copper hair, “I mean, obviously it does,” he cringed. “What you want matters, it should always matter, it’s just that I think you’re lying.”

Eris wondered if it was possible to both want them to come back and want them to stay as far away from him as possible. “You’re not leaving?” Eris asked, turning to face Widge.

Widge flashed Eris a small smile, knocking his shoulder into Eris’s. “Not a chance.”

“I’m going to lean on you, then,” Eris muttered.

Widge shifted closer to him, “You can lean on me whenever you like.”

Eris crossed his arms, kicked his legs out in front of him, and slumped against Widge’s much smaller frame. “Everything I touch, I turn to ash.”

Eris felt Widge shake his head, “That’s not true.”

“It is, though,” Eris sighed, “Over two centuries of friendship just went up in flames.” Which Eris had to keep reminding himself was what he had wanted.

“They’re just worried,” Widge said, sounding very sure, “They’re also probably too proud to admit that they’re also a little afraid.”

“Afraid of what?” Eris wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to know the answer. The last thing he wanted was for Widge to tell him that they were all afraid of him.

“Afraid of losing you.”

Eris stared at his boots, the brown leather stained with blood. “Oh,” he said, feeling rather stupid for not having anything better to say.

“And I think you should know, Eris,” Widge continued, “That you’re nothing like your father.”

Eris didn't think that was true, but he was glad someone thought so all the same.

#eris vanserra #fanfic #autumn court #beron vanserra #lucien vanserra #rhysand #lady vanserra #the lady of autumn court #helion x lady of autumn #helion x lady vanserra #helion #fanfiction #vanserra brothers #acotar #sjm #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #a court of thorns and roses #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin #a court of frost and starlight #a court of silver flames #eris x oc #eris vanserra x oc #queer eris #bisexual eris #bi eris #queer eris vanserra

[pennamesmith]

Return of the Skeletor

A family reunion. Find more Skeletor stories here! 

*

Micah remembered the other world. 

Most people could, in fact. The whole planet was affected. They’d all lived a life they thought was perfect. They’d all imagined something intangible. The memories were faded and fragmentary, like the recollection of a dream, but everyone was certain it had really happened. 

Even if nothing that had happened was real. 

At first Micah didn’t realize anyone else had shared in the dream. He’d lost track of time on Beast Island long ago, and when the collapsing portal closed around him he only assumed it was one of the despairing wasteland’s many tricks. He never had long to dwell on the matter, either. Soon after finding himself returned to reality (he could remember shouting to Angella, reaching for her, trying to tell her “I’m not dead!”) Micah had met the loud and unusual Princess Entrapta. And after her there came…

“She-Ra! It’s She-Ra!” a nasally voice shrieked. 

Micah was startled out of his reverie by a sudden clattering of hooves. The door to his Bright Moon office burst inwards and he was presented with the sight of a breathless Swift Wind. Sitting astride the rainbow-winged unicorn was one of Entrapta’s bots, a lanky drone she’d named ‘Skeletor.’

“The time has come!” Skeletor said. 

“It’s true!” Swift Wind confirmed. “I felt the sacred bond return just a minute ago. Adora and the others are back from Eternia! Darla is over the Whispering Woods right now!”

“What?” Micah jumped to his feet, abandoning his desk without a second thought. It was covered in a mountain of paperwork: royal records, his regent’s duties, and the calendar pages where he’d marked off every day since Glimmer and the rest of the Princess Alliance left for their dangerous mission to another universe. He rushed to the door where Swift Wind was standing. 

Skeletor reached out and helped Micah onto the horse’s back. “Join hands as we bring together our mystic powers!” the robot cried. Once Micah was settled, Swift Wind turned and leapt out the nearest window. They sailed through the skies. 

“What’s going on? Are they all right?” Micah asked, with undisguised worry. 

Swift Wind banked, soaring over the tree line. “I’m not sure! The ship is under control but — look, there it is!” 

Darla, the rebuilt First Ones ship, was descending rapidly from the sky over the treetops. Her flight was steady, but parts of the hull were damaged, and smoke trailed from one wing. Suddenly the ship lurched and plummeted into the trees, vanishing from sight. A plume of vegetation went flying as it plowed to a smouldering stop. 

Micah felt his stomach twist. “We need to get closer!” he called out in a panic. 

“I can take you there!” Skeletor declared, urging Swift Wind toward the ground. They touched down by the edge of a long path of smoking destruction that stretched deep into the woods. 

“They must have landed near here,” Skeletor deduced, observing the massive trench in the ground. He hopped off the horse’s back and ran ahead, making anxious utterances as he went. 

Micah dismounted and walked beside Swift Wind. “I hate this,” Micah confessed. “The staying behind, I mean. At least on Beast Island I was the only one I had to worry about, and I was in control of my own survival. But having to stand by while Glimmer goes into danger? I’m so proud of her, yet I’m also so scared.” 

“I know what you mean,” Swift Wind answered. “I trust Adora, but I also worry about her, like, all the time. Whenever we’re apart I get so restless. I just feel powerless!”  

“Sometimes letting them find their own way is all we can do,” Micah mused. 

They came into a clearing in the woods. Darla was there, sparking and steaming but generally intact. Skeletor hammered on the door. 

“Here, let me try to get you out!” he called. 

Something inside the ship made a noise. There was a hiss and a jet of steam, and Skeletor tumbled backwards, landing with a squawk at Micah and Swift Wind’s feet. They all stared at Darla, holding their breath expectantly.

The front hatch of the spaceship popped open. Entrapta erupted out of it, tumbling down the landing ramp in a ball of frizzled hair. She pulled her goggles up. 

“Aha! We made it!” she crowed, taking in her surroundings. “All in the right dimension and everything!” 

She reached into the recesses of her hair and emerged with a haggard Hordak. “Your piloting saved us! I knew you could do it!” she told him proudly. 

Hordak squinted through half-lidded eyes. “Is it over?” he muttered. “Are we still alive?”

“Yep!” Entrapta wobbled to her feet and gathered her partner up in her ponytails. “Now, let’s get you a checkup and some rest. You’ve had a stressful voyage!” 

She suddenly seemed to notice the gathered onlookers. “Oh! Hi Skeletor. Hi Bird Horse. Hi Micah. Guess what? You’re gonna love this!” Entrapta turned back to the ship. “Safe to disembark, crew!” she yelled, before trotting off with Hordak.

“Now we’ll see how clever you are!” Skeletor said. 

Mermista peeked around the door. “Ground!” she cried, throwing herself across the dirt in relief. “I never thought I’d miss you so much!” 

“Oh, it wasn’t that bad a flight,” Sea Hawk cajoled, helping her to her feet. “Why, I can think of a dozen — no, two dozen more harrowing trips I’ve taken in the Dragon’s Daughter XXVIII.” 

“You fishmonger,” Skeletor scoffed. 

Frosta was the next one out, followed closely by Perfuma and Scorpia. “Eternia was amazing!” the teenaged ice princess announced, brandishing a pair of frozen fists. “I got to punch so much stuff!” 

“Come on, it wasn’t all violence,” Perfuma pleaded. 

“Yeah, we learned a bunch about friendship and responsibility too,” Scorpia agreed. 

“Punch! Punch!” Frosta said. 

“You’re becoming evil, I can sense it!” Skeletor hummed approvingly. “Excellent!” 

Catra and Adora came next, and they were accompanied by a young man Micah had never seen before. He had a pink shirt, bobbed blond hair, and bore an uncanny resemblance to Adora herself. A sword hung on his back. He blinked as he emerged into the light. 

Swift Wind’s jaw dropped. “Adora! Is that…?” 

“Hey guys!” Adora grinned sheepishly. “So, funny story. You remember how when I was a baby I was taken from a hidden First Ones faction that nobody has ever been able to find since?” 

She held her hands out, presenting the newcomer. “Well, uh, we found ‘em! This is my twin brother, Adam!” 

Adam smiled and waved. “Hello everybody,” he chirped. 

“Brother?” Swift Wind sputtered. 

“He-Man!” Skeletor bellowed. 

The group fell into a chattering commotion, but Micah was hardly paying attention. Glimmer and Bow had appeared at the top of the ramp, holding each other as they looked out. Emotions that went beyond words swam in the young queen’s eyes. 

Adora saw where Micah was looking and quickly pulled her brother away. “We’ll tell you the whole story later, sir! Trust me, it’s hilarious. Now come on, I gotta show you around Etheria, bro.”

“Sure thing, sis,” Adam replied, grinning hugely. They pounded their fists together, adding their own sound effects as they did so, and marched off laughing. 

“They have been doing that the entire. Trip. Back,” Catra groaned, following close behind the pair. “Somebody save me.” 

“You furry coward,” muttered Skeletor. 

At the entrance to the ship, Glimmer and Micah hugged each other fiercely. When they finally broke, the old king could see that his daughter was smiling through her tears. 

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Glimmer sniffled. “So much happened. You wouldn’t believe how scary things got! Oh, but I totally had everything under control.” 

“I know you did,” Micah smiled back. But he could tell there was more. 

Glimmer’s face turned serious. “Dad,” she said shakily, tripping over her own words. “Listen. Entrapta’s theories about the other dimension were right. When we — I mean, didn’t know if…” 

Bow stepped in. “Your highness, I think there’s someone you should see.” He beckoned gently. Still at a loss for words, Glimmer nodded and took her father’s hand, leading him inside the ship. 

Micah’s heart was racing even before she rose from the chair and turned to face him. His breath caught when he saw the spreading wings, the shining light, the smiling face that he remembered so clearly. 

Their eyes met. It was a miracle. 

Just like on the island, a part of him couldn’t believe this was really happening. But it was. 

They both reached out. They’d mourned each other once. Their hands met. 

“Micah?” she asked, hardly believing it herself. 

“Angie?” 

*

Outside, both the princesses and their well-wishers had gathered around Adam, excitedly showing off the wonders of their planet. He gazed with delight at everything, marveling in the magical light of Etheria. His laugh brimmed with kindness. 

Skeletor elbowed his way through the crowd. “I can’t let any of you delay me! Out of my way, now!” he jabbered. “This is no time for jokes!” 

He made it to where Adora stood with her brother and glared. Adam turned in surprise, not sure what to expect. They stared at each other. 

Skeletor held his arms wide. “I’ve been waiting a long time for this moment!” he cried. “Take this, He-Man!” 

Then he lunged forward, and wrapped Adam in an enormous hug. 

“He-Man, I am your friend!” 

#spop #she ra fanfiction #skeletor #King Micah #Queen Angella #micangella #glimmer #prince adam #adora #swift wind #princess alliance #smith stuff