#this is probably how Arthur’s farm au would be like

[wishiwasadruid]

Arthur : Did you buy eggs like I asked?

Merlin : Even better!

Arthur : What the fuck did you-

Merlin : *holding up a chicken* Her name is Fluffy.

#this is probably how Arthur’s farm au would be like #Destiny and chicken amirite #merlin #merthur #merlin and arthur #merlin incorrect quotes #arthur pendragon #incorrect quotes #bbc merlin #bbc merthur

[mothmage]

20 Qs for fic writers

Tagged by @monstersinthecosmos , thank you!!!

1. How many works do you have on A03? 31 (and a few anon, i think 2 or 3. idk, when i post a fic on anon i forget about it forever)

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count? 446,135

3. What fandoms do you write for? currently/primarily vc, iwtv (amc), star wars, and merlin (bbc)!

4. What are your top five fics by kudos? A Lovely Little Normal Life (which, honestly, kind of annoys me lol. i know it's just bc it's a huge fandom, but really? the stupid little 12k harry potter fic i wrote in two days is my most kudos? please...); Arthur Pendragon, Long May She Reign (forever pushing my lesbian genderswap agenda); The Face of God (les mis slightly canon divergent javert character study); The Odyssey of Recollection (amc iwtv s1 pov armand); Away From Stranger Tides (potc philip/syrena fic i started ages ago and never finished, lol)

5. Do you respond to comments? yes i love talking to people in comments!!!! i've made a lot of friends through comments!!

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? omg. umm. merthur fans don't know this yet bc i havent finished posting but it's arthur pendragon long may she reign (BUT it's part of a series, so it's literally fine). idk, i dont tend to write long fics that end angsty. but my angstiest fic in general is probably Hollow-Boned Boy (armand contemplating his human life in the early CoD era) or Vision of the Damned (daniel's turning from armand's pov)

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? i love a happy ending!! my series Odysseus in White Silk is probably the happiest ending, and in such an undeserved way hahaha it's so very AU because i was sad after s1 of the show and just wanted them all (and armandaniel) to live happily ever after

8. Do you get hate on fics? i dont think i ever have, but i tend to read comments in good faith too, so maybe someone out there is annoyed that i interpreted their vague dislike comment as a genuine comment or something, idk. in general though, i'll say no

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? yes but i dont post that often, idk if there's a particular kind, but generally it tends to be a little rougher than is probably appropriate without discussion in real-life situations, but also very...idk my friend described it as very tender, like theyre very clearly in love. which is so funny considering that that kind of tenderness irl gives me fucking hives lmfao

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? oh wow, not in a long time. i do have a wip sitting around rn that's a crossover between london spy and cloud atlas, which is really crazy until you remember that ben whishaw is in both london spy and the cloud atlas movie lol. and cloud atlas is already about weird reincarnations and parallel worlds and stuff, so it isnt too out-there.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? i dont think so!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? yes!! The Face of God was translated into Korean by ao3 user Crescent919 !! i've had a few comments on other fics asking to translate for personal use (always yes, of course), but no one else has asked to share a translation publicly

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? no!! i've been thinking about it lately though

14. What’s your all time favorite ship? all-time? probably merlin/arthur from merlin (bbc). it's the whole fate-destiny-choice thing, it just compels me like nothing else

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? hmmm, i would like to finish Roswell -- well, kinda (agent carter farm girl / alien crash landing au) because i still have all the original notes and outlines and stuff. i also made a shitty conlang when i was first writing it, which is crazy lol. but it would need some pretty serious revisions, and i would definitely rewrite the first few chapters that i posted years ago. i just kind of lost the agent carter bug, but i might return to that fic if i ever get in the mood for it again.

16. What are your writing strengths? ooh, i'm not really sure! i get a lot of comments mentioning characters' voices and/or personalities, so i would say maybe that!!! i also feel that i'm fairly good at mimicking an author's writing style when i want to (notably, i do not mimic anne rice when writing vc fic, lol)

17. What are your writing weaknesses? editing for sure. i have at least a hundred fics sitting on my hard drive fully or almost-fully written that i just need to edit. but i would simply rather die than do all of that. it's also why my whole merlin fic got put on pause while i went down the vc rabbithole, because i just can't bring myself to go edit the next chapters lol

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? hmm, i think it's usually unnecessary and comes off as a bit silly. that said, i did do it once (maybe excessively) in Daniel Molloy, Time Bandit (1984 daniel ends up in 1794 theatre des vampires, it's more of a character study than a time travel fic) BUT, let me defend myself -- i did it because daniel doesnt understand french, it's his pov, and he's incredibly confused and distraught for most of the fic. i felt like the dialogue being in french conveyed this sort of "daniel does not belong in this time/place" vibes. but, also, my french is...a little rough. so i'm sure it's an annoying fic for french readers lmao

19. First fandom you wrote for? warriors cats, a million years ago hahahah

20. Favourite fic you’ve written? ok, i have three different answers for this. the fic i think is the best, objectively, in terms of writing and content: The Story of Dani [...] (r63 devil's minion from armand's pov, starting with lestat's house). the fic i am the proudest of, mostly because it was my first "big" fic (it's funny now, bc it's only 41k) and i feel like i grew a lot as a writer while working on it, and i'm still happy with it: The Face of God (les mis pov javert, character study from childhood). the fic i have the most fun with and think about almost 24/7: Arthur Pendragon, Long May She Reign (r63 merthur, canon divergence, this is like a 4-part series that's currently over 300k lmao)

no-pressure tagging: @aunteat @leslutdepointedulac @butchybats @graygiantess and anyone else who wants to!!

#THANK YOU THIS WAS SO FUN #ask game #kind of lol

[tiodolma]

Previously, I sent an AU with time travel + the accidental acquisition of baby Mordred + season 5 Merlin and Morgana + divorced parents dynamics + UST. 🤔 I was thinking... What if the accidental acquisition is of baby Arthur instead? Morgana time travels back in time to kill Uther, but doesn't realize she brought Merlin along for the ride (he's linked to her, being both her destiny and her doom).

Morgana kills Uther via poison and Merlin tries to stop her, but he's too late. Both proceed to argue about what she has done and throw spells to one another until baby Arthur makes an appearance. Gaius makes them responsible of Arthur (you killed the king, you deal with the consequences). In summary, prince Arthur grows up with passive aggressive foster parents with magic with a great ton of issues and maxed out UST. If and when that UST gets resolved, that's up to you. 😂

Arthur will be spoiled rotten by both of them lmaoo. They will make him read soooo many books. Morgana will teach him how to do politics and fight wars. At least MerMor will agree with each other on that aspect. There is increasing attraction and UST when their ideas match 😂. Bonus if by raising arthur they will both start to imagine what it would be like if they had a magical child aksjshjwsj (which brings them back to the mordred and aithusa question and then they fight again coz they’ll never get over it 😂). Then later cue teenage angst arthur coz he doesnt have 'gifts’ like his foster parents. I think Arthur will be a more okay king because of them at least XD

They’ll probably fall in bed while doing one of those heated fights about arthur, mordred and aithusa (they’re a mess). I can see that happening. Basically Merlin would be all 🥺🥺🥺🥺 when Morgana blurts out the truth about Aithusa in her frustration and rage and his whole attitude with her will shift 😏😏😏😏

But man the paradox this timeline will induce lmao

With Igrain and Uther dead and with the prince still a baby... that means the Purge will never start. Therefore, Nimueh and Balinor are still attending court. Magic is still alive and free in Camelot. The problem would be the civil unrest after the assasination of the monarch. So... who’s gonna show up and try to take the throne? I’m guessing Nimueh and Balinor would prolly fight it out? Morgana’s birth is probably secure coz the Duke of Cornwall wont have to go fight a war or smth. But the problem would be Merlin not being conceived if Balinor is a Camelotian courtier and his future mom is waaaay over farming in Ealdor. Unless Nimueh takes the throne and drives Balinor away (which is unlikely). Merlin would have to find a way to be conceived by his mother smh 😂... all the while raising a future prince with his sworn enemy from their own timeline 😂😂😂

This timeline also have the funny side effect of morgana and nimueh being in the same room as merlin. Imagine the bitchfights bruh. And Merlin, Morgana and Nimue would be of approx the same age. Morgana would be so insanely jealous of Nimueh’s confidence and merlin’s attraction to her and and vice versa. Maybe morgs will side with nimue bec ofc she will... or maybe not.. morgs cannot stand if anyone not her sits on the throne of camelot... she’s gonna bring nimueh down.. i just know it and... Omg yeah theyre gonna fight over merlin. All the while the Gaius x Alice storyline is happening in the background with a nice nimue x gaius x alice tension going on.

Arthur is gonna grow up with this political landscape and i shiver thinking abt it. Morgana would parade him around as hers and Merlin’s child in front of nimue and she’ll be extra flirty with merlin (holysht yep she’ll definitely seduce him to gain leverage over nimueh).

#mergana #sht i wanna see btchfights #meanwhile merlins is gonna recruit some knights i guess?! #alternate merlin

[queenxxxsupreme]

A Reunion of Sorts (dad!Arthur Morgan x reader)

A/N: Daisy’s middle name is not May! Daisy May is just something John calls her! I have a great aunt who always called my little sister Maddie May even though May was not her middle name. That great aunt always used May as a sort of middle name for my sister and a couple other cousins and I thought it was cute. Find the rest of dad!Arthur Morgan AU on my masterlist here!

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: none really, all game canon related

Additional Note: Lupine Valley Ranch is Arthur and Y/N’s ranch/home/farm. We already know Beecher’s Hope is John and Abigail’s. And Lone Paradise is Charles and Lucy’s home/ranch/farm.

***

You rubbed your eyes, struggling to stay awake. The night air was just a little chilly but you wore one of Arthur’s jackets to keep you warm. 

Cicadas and frogs chirped from the woods that surrounded your home. Occasionally, you’d hear a coyote yip or a raccoon chitter and the underbrush would rustle, stirring you just long enough to make your eyes widen. But then you’d start to drift off to sleep on the porch once more. 

“Go on to bed, Y/N.” Arthur insisted, moving to your chair. He was standing at one end of the porch, eyes set on the drive that led to your home. Every once in a while, he’d glance over to you and see your head bobbing as you tried to fight off sleep. 

“No, no.” You shook your head, swatting his hands away as he tried to grab your hands or wrists to pull you to your feet. “I want to stay awake until they get here.”

“I can wake ya up when they get here.”

“You won’t wake me up.”

“Y/N, there’s no sense in you bein’ awake.”

“I want to make sure everyone is well and comfortable tonight.” 

He continued to try to take your hands but you stubbornly refused to let him grab you, knowing he could easily pull you to your feet and haul you off to bed. 

“Arthur Morgan, I want to stay out here with you!”

“What if I don’t want to carry your ass back to bed?” He raised a brow, his tone teasing as he looked down at you. He braced himself on either arm of your chair and leaned down to kiss your forehead. “Just go to bed, woman.”

“No.” You closed your eyes as you leaned against him, only meaning to do so for a few moments. But your eyelids were so heavy that it was a struggle to open them. 

“Pumpkin-,”

“Shut up, Arthur. You’re just tryin’ to get me to go to bed so you can leave and go cause all sorts of trouble you don’t need to be causing.”

“I would never do such a thing.”

“Something’s coming down the road.” Hosea spoke from the other side of the porch. 

You stood to your feet, following Arthur to where Hosea stood. You placed your hand on his forearm, watching the light from a wagon. 

“That’s them.” Arthur picked up his hat from an end table on the porch. 

***

You stood out in the hallway watching as John placed a sleeping Grace down in Daisy’s bed. Daisy was wide awake in your room, pouting and upset that Grace was asleep. She wanted to play, but you told her that with it being so late Grace would probably be asleep. 

“Thank you again for lettin’ us stay here, Y/N.” Abigail placed her hand on your arm. 

“It’s safer for you to be up here.” You gave her a little smile. 

“Uncle Johnny!”

“Shh, Daisy May.” John turned his attention to Daisy, who slipped out of your bedroom. 

“Uncle Johnny, when will Grace be awake?” Daisy tugged on his jacket. 

“It’s past midnight, girly.” John knelt down to be at Daisy’s level. “You should be sleeping.”

Daisy scrunched up her nose at him. 

“I’ve gotta go help your daddy outside.” John ruffled her hair and stood up. 

“Can I come with you? You can see Piper!”

“Now’s not the time for that, Daisy.” You put your hand on her head. “Uncle John and Aunt Abigail want to get to bed, I’m sure. If you want to go out and help Uncle John bring their things inside, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind the help.”

“Course not. Come on, Daisy May.”

You and Abigail watched the duo make their way down the hall. 

“How has John been since he saw Micah?” You started towards the kitchen with Abigail behind you. 

“He’s been angry and on edge. He hasn’t been able to sleep none. I haven’t either. It’s hard to sleep when you know Micah Bell is nearby.” 

“Well you all are safe now. I don’t reckon he’s dumb enough to come up here.” Hosea joined you both in the kitchen. 

“Depends on how desperate he is for that Blackwater money.” You went to stand at the kitchen sink. From there, you could look out towards the barn. You could only see that the barn doors were open and there was light coming from inside. 

“I hoped we had left this all behind ten years ago.” Abigail rubbed her eyes and then brushed her messy hair back. “We’ve worked so hard to get away from that. John’s worked so hard to change.”

“We all have.” Hosea reminded her. “That was the only life we ever knew. It wasn’t easy making what we’ve got now. But that’s why we aren’t gonna roll over and give Micah what he wants.”

You watched as Arthur emerged from the barn with Daisy on his shoulders. John, Jack, and Uncle were right behind them. 

“I just don’t want anyone hurt.” You murmured. “We’ve got too much on the line this time.”

***

The Next Morning

Arms wrapped around you from behind. A smile slipped across your lips. You leaned back against your husband. He kissed the back of your head, rubbing your side with one hand. 

“You’re up early.”

“Someone’s gotta feed everybody.” You hummed, looking over your shoulder to him. 

“You didn’t sleep any last night either.” 

“Neither did you.” You pointed out.

He tightened his grip on you, arms holding you firmly against his body as he buried his nose in your hair. 

“What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing.”

“Obviously it’s something.” 

You tried to move out of his arms but he refused to let you go.  

“Arthur, I’ve got to–,”

“Can you just hold on a second?” He moved to stand next to you, looking down at you with furrowed brows. 

“I’ve got to get breakfast made before the kids wake up, Arthur.”

“Stop messing with the breakfast, pumpkin.” He took your hands and pulled you away from the stove. “You were tossing and turning all night.”

“You know why.” Your voice was low as you held his gaze. “All this talk about Micah coming for Hosea, for us…. I can’t help but get upset and anxious. I’m bound to lose sleep over it. And the only thing that can help me keep my cool is making sure the kids are taken care of and that everyone here has something to eat.”

“We don’t even know yet if he is comin’ for us.” Arthur shook his head. “It’s all just speculation.”

“It would be naive of us to assume he wouldn’t.”

“But it’d be too soon to assume he was. There hasn’t been any signs to point that he was. All John saw was Micah in Blackwater and John movin’ him and Abigail and the kids up here to Lupine Valley is just a precautionary measure.” Arthur brushed his hands up and down your arms. “We gotta take this one step at a time. If we start getting ahead of ourselves and losing it too soon, we’ll just…. Well, bad things will happen.”

You nodded, sniffling and wiping the tears from your cheeks. 

“Why don’t we go out to the porch for a minute? Just for some fresh air?”

“But the breakfast, Arthur.”

“The breakfast can sit here and simmer for a minute.” He put his hand on the small of your back and began to guide you towards the front door. 

The two of you went out to the front porch and sat on the porch swing. Arthur kept his arm around you while you rested your head on his shoulder. He moved the swing back and forth just a bit.

“You know, I almost forgot how much you used to do this.” His voice was low and quiet. 

“Do what?”

“Worry. You worry now, but this…. This is a different kind of worry. The kind that I always thought would give ya a heart attack or something.” He smiled a little at the memories that came flooding back from his time with the Van Der Linde gang. “Every time I went out, I knew you’d be nothin’ but a case of worry and fret.”

“‘Cause I wasn’t sure if you’d come back to me whole or…. Or missing something or even if you’d come back at all.” You murmured. “I used to drive everyone mad at camp. Always had to keep busy when you were gone. Chores with the girls or with Mr. Pearson. I couldn’t sit still. Not until you came back.”

“And then when I’d come back, you’d sleep for hours and hours.” Arthur looked down at you. “You never slept when I was gone.”

“No, I didn’t.” You shook your head, smiling a little. “But that was the good thing about camp. There was always something to do.”

Arthur nodded his head. Silence fell between you both. The sound of morning birds filled the air. But in the distance, Arthur could hear hooves against the dirt road. 

“Stay here a minute.” He muttered under his breath as he stood from the swing.

Your brows furrowed together and you leaned forward, wanting to follow him.

“What is it?”

“Someone’s coming down the road.” He went to the edge of the porch and paused for a moment. 

You moved to stand just behind him, your hand coming up to his back. A horse came into sight a few moments later. It was a familiar one, dark in color with a familiar rider.

Arthur smiled as Sadie stopped the horse just in front of the porch. 

“I didn’t reckon you folks would be up so early.”

“Well, we’ve got a full house right now.” Arthur nodded. “We can talk about it inside.”

“Have you had a long trip, Sadie?” You asked her. “I’m afraid your room is occupied right now but Daisy is in mine and Arthur’s bed if you’d like to rest.”

“I can rest later. Who are your guests?” She tilted her head to the side a bit.

“John and his family.” Arthur shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “There might be trouble in Blackwater.”

***

“I haven’t heard anything about Micah being this close. Is John sure he saw Micah?”

“He’s positive.” Arthur nodded his head. 

“I’ve been keeping a watchful eye on the papers. Wherever he and his new band go, they always turn up in the papers. I haven’t seen anything close to West Elizabeth in a few years.” Sadie shook her head, lifting her cup of coffee to her lips. 

“Somehow the standard snuck through.” Arthur muttered, moving towards the window behind the kitchen sink. 

“Maybe he’s traveling with a lighter gang now so he won’t make so much commotion.” You thought out loud.

“That would be unfortunate for us.” Sadie sighed. “Well, I hope you don’t mind one more guest.”

“Of course not.” Arthur shook his head, turning to lean against the sink. 

“But we are running out of room here.” You frowned. “John and Abigail are staying in your room and Daisy’s sleeping in our room while Jack and Grace get Daisy’s room.”

“And Uncle insists on sleeping out in the hayloft.” Arthur added with a shake of his head. “Old bastard can still make it up the ladder somehow. But I know Charles and Lucy have room over at Lone Paradise.”

“Do they know about Micah?”

“Yeah.” Arthur messed with the brim of his hat. 

“How’s Charles taking it?” Sadie shifted around in her seat so she could see Arthur a bit better. 

“He’s on edge, like all of us are. Lucy’s gonna have her baby soon. Last thing we need is Micah Bell”

“Nothin’s gonna happen to Lucy or that baby.” Sadie assured him, shaking her head as she stood to her feet. “I’m gonna walk around y’all’s property a bit then make my way over to Lone Paradise. I’ll bounce back and forth between here and there. You’re separated by a few acres, right?”

“From the house here headin’ west for thirty acres there’s a big oak with an old wagon sittin’ there. That’s where my property ends and his begins. Keep goin’ west for another ten acres and you’ll come up on his barn first. His house is just beyond that.” Arthur explained. 

“It’s quicker that way than it is going the road.” You added. “There’s a trial to follow too so you shouldn’t get lost. We use it often.”

Sadie nodded and began to head for the door. 

“Be safe out there, Sadie.” 

She turned back to look at Arthur before leaving. 

As the front door closed, he let out a soft breath. 

“Feels better havin’ her here.”

You nodded in agreement, standing to your feet. 

“I don’t think we’ve had everyone here since…. Well, since Daisy was sick three years ago.”

“Sure feels like a long time ago.” Arthur mumbled quietly. “It’s funny how time passes but things still…. Things are the same.”

“How so?” You cocked your head to the side a bit as you came to stand in front of your husband. You placed your hand on his stomach, looking up at him. 

“Micah was the problem back then, and he’s the problem still.”

You pressed your lips together as your eyes lowered to the buttons of his shirt. 

“There were a lot of problems back then, Arthur. Micah was just….” You trailed off, unable to think of the right words. 

“He was the root of it all.”

Something moved out of the corner of your eyes. You turned your head to see Daisy standing in the edge of the kitchen. She held in one hand a stuffed bear Hosea had bought her when she was a baby. Carson was right beside her. Her free hand held on to the back of his neck. There were tears in her eyes and her cheeks were damp. 

“Sweetpea.” Arthur moved away from you so that he could kneel down in front of your daughter. “What happened? What’s got you in tears so early in the mornin’?”

“Had a bad dream.” She sniffled. He used his thumbs to gingerly wipe the tears away. His hands appeared so big as he tenderly cupped her cheeks. “I think I accidentally kicked Carson when I was sleeping.”

Arthur looked down at Carson, who wagged his tail and nosed at Arthur’s arm. 

“Was he layin’ at your feet? I know he likes to do that to watch over you while you sleep.”

“Yeah. I-I woke up and he yipped real loud.” Daisy’s voice hitched in her throat. “Did I hurt him daddy?”

“Where do you think you kicked him, sweetpea?” Arthur kept one hand on Daisy’s side while his other rubbed along Carson’s back and then down each of his legs. 

“I think his chest. Do you think he’s gonna be scared of me, daddy?”

“Don’t be silly, sweetpea.”

“Carson knows you didn’t do it on purpose, Daisy.” You moved to be next to them. 

“I don’t think he’s hurt.” Arthur shook his head. “Think you might’ve just surprised him, sweetpea.”

Daisy stepped closer to Arthur, burying her nose in his neck. He rubbed her back and kissed the side of her head. 

“It’s still early, sweetpea. You wanna go back to bed? I’ll lay down with you.”

“No. I don’t wanna sleep.”

“Are you hungry? I’ve got breakfast almost done.” You brushed your hand along Arthur’s shoulder before turning back to the stove. 

“Yeah, I am.”

“After bit here, you can go wake up Uncle John and Aunt Abigail.” Arthur stood up and in the same motion picked Daisy up. He took her over to the table and placed her down in a chair. “Guess who will be here later on today, sweetpea?”

“Who?”

“Aunt Sadie.”

Daisy’s eyes lit up.

“Really? She’s here!”

“No, well not yet.” Arthur rubbed Daisy’s shoulder. “She’s over at Uncle Charles’s and Aunt Lucy’s. After while, she’ll be coming over here.”

“It’s been forever since I seen her last!”

“I know. It’s gonna be an exciting day.”

Taglist: @winterwolf @lauramb7 @caraqas @bluscryn @krenee1drful @zodiacaldust @nonodino @cal-lifornication @thefirelordm @sargeantsea @sokkasdarling @thecollection @mayday1284 @kashasenpai @misskrql @brooke-supernatural16 @lassiee @hocdolliday  @micahs-bird

If your name is in italics, it wouldn’t let me tag you :(

#dad!arthur morgan #dad!arthur morgan x reader #dad!arthur morgan series #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #arthur morgan fic #oneshot

[mystical-flute]

Once Upon a Time in Hollywood (SFWeek Day 6)

Actors AU or Social Media AU

AO3 || FFN

@mysteryandnonstopfun

“No, Baelfire!”

“It’s okay, Leia… all magic comes with a price, right? I’m happy paying this price if it means - ” he winced in pain as the magic drained more of his strength. “If it means you and Henry will be safe.”

She sniffed, a tear landing on his cheek. “But - but Henry doesn’t even remember you. He never got to see you again!”

“I have faith you’ll break his curse…”

“Bae…” came the broken voice of a father.

“Papa,” despite him dying, he had never felt more relieved to see his father. His sacrifice worked. Papa was safe.

Rumplestiltskin sank to his knees, taking his son’s hand. “Oh my boy. No, I’ll - I’ll stop this. I’ll make sure it takes me instead of you.”

“Papa, you can’t! It’s too late. It’s already begun. You have to let me go. Please.”

“Baelfire…”

Baelfire turned his gaze back to Leia. “Go… find your happiness… without me.”

A final breath escaped him, although his eyes remained open, glassy and empty, as they stared off into the bright light above him.

“CUT!”

Director Killian Jones’ voice sliced through the somber scene, chatter beginning to buzz as assistants, producers and camera operators continued the work that had been stalled while the cameras rolled.

Neal Cassidy blinked, trying to get his eyes to adjust to the studio lighting, and sat up, off his co-star, Emma Swan’s, legs. “That was the first time I’ve ever died in a movie before. Gotta say, I don’t recommend staring directly into the spotlight above your head.”

Arthur Gold, ‘Rumplestiltskin’, stood and stretched out his. “You two are good,” he remarked. “Really just thought you two were just pretty faces, but you two got real acting chops,” his voice dropped lower as Victoria Belfrey, one of the most cutthroat producers in Hollywood, strolled by, “ - especially if you haven’t been scared off by her, yet.”

“Ah, she’s not so bad,” Emma said with a shrug. “You just have to know how to butter her up.”

“Yeah, I mean, sooner or later, it’s going to be our generation that’s the big time producers,” Neal added.

Arthur blinked slowly, then smirked. “That’s the spirit. That will get you both far in this town.”

He ambled away in the direction of catering, and the mood shifted immediately when the two stars were left alone.

“You got snot on me when you cried.”

“Your breath stinks like garlic.”

Oh, Neal couldn’t stand to be near Emma Swan. But Regina Mills’ Misthaven had broken record after record for books and social media posts, so it only made sense that, when the inevitable movie adaptation was announced, Neal Cassidy and Emma Swan, both riding high from their own worldwide successes, would play the two star-crossed, tragic lovers - Baelfire the Spinner and Princess Leia.

He glared. “Yeah? What time did you get to your trailer last night? Two? Because before Elsa worked her magic on you, you looked like - ”

“That is enough out of you two!” Killian snapped, a clipboard tucked under his arm as he approached the sound stage. “I’d heard you two were trouble to work with, but I didn’t think it would be this bad.”

“Well maybe if - ”

“I don’t care. Neither of you are scheduled to film tomorrow, so I’ve set up a bit of a… bonding exercise for you. Don’t worry, your agents gave the okay.”

Neal and Emma shot Killian incredulous looks. “You did this behind our backs?” “What the hell, man?” They protested at the same time.

“Oh, look at that. It seems to be working already,” Killian smirked, handing them sheets of paper. “Meet there at nine o’clock sharp. Spend the day together. Get to know each other - without trying to rip the other’s throat out.”

Neal thought he might have more luck jumping into a zoo exhibit, but he really didn’t want to lose his reputation or everything he had worked for.

So the next morning, he was slumped in the back seat of a car, Emma doing the same on the other side. The ride had been quiet, neither of them much in the mood to talk.

Maybe if they learned to just ignore each other, that would be enough for Killian? Hell, it was already working.

His brow raised as they turned off the main highway, heading into the woods.

“Okay, I know Killian’s annoyed with us, but is he really going to murder us in the woods?” Emma whispered.

“Please, if they did that, Misthaven would tank, and that wouldn’t be fair to Regina Mills,” he replied, although the thought had crossed his mind as well.

“I didn’t think you cared about anyone but yourself.”

“I guess I’m just full of surprises.”

Finally, the driver stopped outside a cabin. “Alright you two. I’ll be back at three, Mr. Jones’ orders. Have fun and don’t do anything that might require an ambulance.”

“It’s like they don’t trust us or something,” Neal said, watching the driver pull away.

Emma didn’t laugh as she glanced at the cabin. “This is a joke, right? God, it’s like being back on Dad’s farm.”

“You grew up on a farm?”

“You gonna mock me for that?”

Neal held up his hands in a gesture of surrender as she unlocked the cabin door and stepped inside. “I was doing nothing of the sort. You just don’t strike me as the “farm girl” type with all the leather you wear.”

“I shed that image. I was never a fan of small towns or - or farms. They’re nice to visit, but I’m a city girl through and through,” she said, frowning as she looked around. “No TV?”

“Jones did say this was a bonding exercise. They probably figured we’d spend all day watching TV or going online and ignoring each other.”

“That sounds like a good idea to me.”

“Well, they ended that dream before you could fall asleep,” Neal said, flopping down on a couch. “Why don’t we talk more about that little farm thing you grew up on?”

“It’s a farm in Maine. Dad raises sheep, cows and chickens and has crops. Really not all that interesting to talk about, other than I hated getting up at the ass-crack of dawn to collect eggs. That was more my brother’s speed.”

Neal raised a brow. “Maine, huh? You don’t hear a lot about people from Maine.”

“Suppose not. Where was it you were from, again?”

“New Orleans.”

Her eyes widened. “Really? No offense, but you don’t sound like it.”

Neal chewed the inside of his cheek, before sighing. “My manager didn’t think it’d get me far if I kept the accent,” he said, slipping into his normal voice. “I really don’t think I’d have gotten Misthaven if I sound like this, do you?”

Emma shrugged. “I think the accent sounds fine, but I guess I can see what you mean. Still shouldn’t mean you couldn’t use it in other work or in interviews. Your manager must be a shark.”

“Cora Miller. And trust me when I say she wasn’t happy when she found out about this little adventure.”

“Ah, that explains it.” A pause. “Did you read Misthaven? The book, I mean.”

“I did. I think it’s bullshit that Baelfire dies.”

“You’re just saying that because that means you have to die and miss out on the last half of the movie.”

“No, no! I’m serious! Baelfire fights so hard to reunite his family and revive his father, and he knows the ins and out of magic, and he still pays the ultimate price? When others who did so much worse get to survive? Even if he and Princess Leia don’t get together, he deserved to be with Henry, at least,” Neal replied, frowning.

Emma tilted her head. “I guess that makes sense. And Baelfire returning a hero after being out of Princess Leia’s life for so long would have made for a great redemption story. Maybe Regina Mills will figure out a way to bring him back in the sequel.”

“Wait, she’s writing a sequel?”

“Yeah, it’s supposed to come out in a couple years. I didn’t know you were such a big reader.”

“You kiddin’? English was my favorite subject in school. I got a whole wall in my house dedicated to books.”

Emma sat back in her chair, clearly surprised. “Huh. It was mine too.”

Neal crossed his legs. “I guess we got more in common than we thought. What do you say we start over?”

Emma smiled. “Sure. I’d like that.”

#sfweek2021 #swanfire #emma swan #neal cassidy #ouat #once upon a time

[writer-and-artist27]

A Count’s Favor

Note: Study break called for more writing. So another short story in the AU of Vy and Ayako coexisting in the same Chaldea. I’d like to think this takes place immediately after the first short story, so @panyum, this is for you.

An accompanying song as usual, with an extra since it helped me write this, and now onto the action. Warning as it is mostly unedited from my writing late at night after working on homework.

Here we go.

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

The first sign that something was going on was the soft touch of what felt like a hand on Vy’s head. Now, she wasn’t a stranger to the sensation of “head-pats” — after all, Ushiwakamaru still adored them and begged for the occasional pat when she passed by. Not to mention Vy’s own short stature from her Vietnamese blood apparently making her the “perfect” patting height. Or, at least, that was what Caster Cu had said with a sharp-toothed smirk. Most of the male Servants seemed to agree if the usual pat after a quest was any indication, but this specific pat was different. 

Light, far too brief to really register anything aside from long fingers (were they bony?), and almost wispy. 

Vy had turned her head once the sensation had registered in her brain, glancing around for a few moments before anxiously tugging at one of the hems of her jacket in the Mage’s Association Uniform. The shorts and stockings were comfy, but the orange was still something to get used to when the last time Vy saw this outfit, it was with—

I don’t want to die!

Vy shook her head, squashing the urge to cry. Olga-Marie was still gone. All that was around her, all that was left, were the white halls of Chaldea. 

“Am I overthinking things…?” left her in a soft mumble. 

Of course, no one answered. There was no one around to answer. Supposedly.

Vy glanced at the area she had just left, her eyes lingering on the door leading to Ayako’s studio in the distant horizon, before walking a bit faster to get to the others.

“Gotta hurry to get back and cook…!”

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

The next instance of that wispy headpat came after the most recent Ember Farming Daily Quest. Arturia, as the former King Arthur looked less than phased at the damage she took once the battle was over, absently telling the Saber version of Diarmuid how they were no more than “mere scratches,” but Vy’s head wasn’t entirely present in the situation. Mana drain was still mana drain, as much as Vy hated to admit it. 

Aya-san’s still resting, so why can’t I make it up to her a little more…? Gotta— 

Vy still found herself slumping down to sit against a tree. Darn it… 

But once Vy had ducked her head and closed her eyes to take the rare chance to rest for a small moment before the inevitable Rayshift back, the pat occurred. It was a few seconds longer than the first time, letting Vy take in what felt like a calloused touch as the pat rustled the hair she had set in her usual work ponytail, but once Vy raised her head to look towards the direction it came from, the touch disappeared. 

“Vy?” 

Arturia’s voice slowly echoed in her ears, almost soothing as Vy turned to look up at the Level 100 Saber with her best attempt at a comforting smile. “I-I’m okay, Arturia-san, I’m okay.”

Still, Arturia looked less than convinced as she dispelled one metal gauntlet with a shrug of her shoulder to rest a warm hand against Vy’s forehead, undeterred by hair. With a soft inhale, Arturia then said, “You don’t have a fever, Princess. Are you merely tired?”

“Kinda,” Vy said truthfully, trying not to shrink into herself once Diarmuid, D’eon, and Saber Alter all turned to look at what was going on. “I dunno.”

“What do you know, Princess?” Arturia entertained in a softer voice, kneeling to Vy’s sitting height as she dispelled her other armored gauntlet to take one of Vy’s hands in hers. 

Vy felt a frown form on her face, both from guilt and embarrassment at being confronted, before meeting Arturia’s earnest green eyes with a tiny, “I think someone’s been patting my head.”

Arturia blinked, a wind passing between them enough to jostle the gold crown sitting on her head. “Pardon?” she said after a moment, her grip on Vy’s fingers slackening with the question. “Could you repeat that, Vy?”

“I-I really don’t get it either, Art-san!” Vy knew she was blushing by now, but she still went on with a squeakier, “Whenever I seem to be looking elsewhere, I feel like someone’s been patting my head, but I just. Can’t. Find them!”

A somewhat troubled expression dawned on Arturia’s face as she squeezed Vy’s hand in hers. “Perhaps it is a Servant?” she offered, her thumb gently rubbing the back of Vy’s hand in a comforting gesture. Vy couldn’t miss how Arturia’s touch lingered on her flower-shaped Command Spells. “The staff already pet your head enough for you to recognize them by now, can’t you, Princess?”

“Aye, it’s just this one hand…” Vy gestured to the top of her now rustled ponytail with her free hand, trying not to squeeze her eyes shut from some bubbling frustration. “I feel like I know it somehow, but I also don’t! It started just after I visited Aya-san to drop off her breakfast smoothie, too!” 

Arturia stared at Vy for a moment longer before pulling on Vy’s hand, making Vy fall into a warm hug as a chin gently bumped the top of her hair. “I see,” she said mildly, an arm winding past Vy’s jacket to rub her back, “but as long as this hand isn’t hurting you, Princess, I don’t think you should worry. Knowing your heart, you’ll find them soon enough.”

“You sure…?”

“I am absolutely sure of it.”

Even with her nose stuck in the crook between Arturia’s neck and shoulder via hug, Vy couldn’t miss how Saber Alter in the background turned her nose the other way, a scoff clearly audible even from her distance. 

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

By the time everyone got back to Chaldea, Vy couldn’t help herself. Even if she was cooking, the curiosity was tugging too hard. “Big Robin?”

Robin Hood didn’t even pause in his action of cutting carrots, tossing his head in Vy’s direction as a carefree glint shined in his visible green eye. “What’s up, little sparrow?”

Vy tried not to sweat at the attention, admitting slowly past an anxious tug of one of her stray hairs out of her ponytail, “You don’t happen to know any Servants in Chaldea that uses a Noble Phantasm like your No Face May King, do you…?”

The question was something that certainly got Archer’s attention at this point, since he had stopped his vegetable cutting to throw Vy an incredulous look. It was hard to miss how his green apron was already close to flickering out of view in favor of his usual cloak and crossbow. “Who do I have to poison, little sparrow?”

ACK. “Th-There’s no one to poison except the Demon God Pillars, Robin!” Vy blurted out for damage control, because sheesh, Robin’s sentence almost made it sound like he was being serious. And knowing him — the seafood porridge Vy was still stirring would probably be neglected in favor of creating the means for some kind of comeback against whatever enemy he saw in his head.  “A-And that’s not what I meant!” 

“Then what did you mean, little sparrow?” Robin continued, his voice lowering to a deeper pitch as he put the kitchen knife down, raising a hand to gently rest his palm on top of Vy’s head. The apron on his person solidified again, leaving his weapons intangible to the touch. “Because if someone’s messing with you, I know where the traps are.”

Vy did her best not to pout, she really did, but by the time she was looking up into Robin’s eyes, it was obvious he was still not backing down from his previous declaration as his fingers scratched the top of her scalp mid-ruffle of her hair. “I-I wanted to ask since I’ve been feeling someone new pat my head lately, that’s all.” Even if she didn’t really know how to feel about it, she still leaned into Robin’s hand anyway, finishing with, “Really, big Robin, I’m okay. I just wanna know who it is.”

The statement was enough to make Robin momentarily freeze, his green eye widening for a moment. 

The last thing Vy expected was for him to close his visible eye, exhale what sounded like a tired and exasperated sigh, and then suddenly retract his hand and thrust it past her neck. Any closer and something would’ve been cut. Instead, Vy felt the saliva dry up in her throat as Robin Hood said with an eerily cheerful smile in her direction, “Why don’t you ask the person who’s right behind you, Master?”

There was definitely a muffled curse at this point in time, nearly making Vy squeak herself as Robin pulled, and Vy only had a few seconds to glance behind her before getting a glimpse of shadowy wisps fading into the air, fluffy white hair, and long bony fingers. 

Huh? 

“A-Avenger?” Vy said slowly, blinking at the clearly ruffled Edmond Dantes coming into view as Robin Hood pulled him (via a tight grip on the wrist, too) out of whatever portal he had conjured to show up in the kitchen, both Servants muffling curses at each other. The curses were something along the lines of “Let go, Archer,” and “No way in hell, jerk, you nearly scared my little sparrow.” Well, it at least sounded like those phrases, unless Vy was hearing things again. “I thought you were with Aya-san…”

“Normally, yes,” the Avenger bit out past a retort to Archer as Robin Hood let go with an exaggerated roll of his eyes. “But there’s only so much observing I can take when my Accomplice refuses to leave her studio.”

Robin Hood huffed out a tiny, “Typical,” as Vy felt a nervous laugh bubble up in her throat from the sympathy. So Aya-san was still in her painting muse. Okay then. It was better than not talking to anyone at all, at least.

“So then, er, Avenger?”

The Count of Monte Cristo closed his eyes at the title, a deep frown set on his face. It was clear that he didn’t like it, even with the shade the brim of his hat gave him.

Vy tried again with an (unintentionally) higher-pitched, “Count?”

Dantes nodded. 

Vy did her best to sound as patient and open as possible as she went on, with his permission, with, “Why did you come here?”

In that very moment, Vy could’ve sworn Dantes’ look towards her softened as he opened his eyes, almost like the times she found him staring after Aya-san. Then he opened his mouth with an equally soft, “You are a curious one, little flower.”

Eh? 

“Flower?” Vy echoed in confusion. “Me?”

“Flower? My little sparrow?” Robin Hood interrupted with an exaggerated puff of his chest. “You gotta be joking.”

“I am not, Archer,” Dantes shot to Robin Hood, crossing his arms in return. “I heard from my Accomplice how this little one’s name in Vietnamese stands for some kind of yellow flower. I could not help but look out since.”

“Aaaand, um,” Vy got between the two Servants with hands raised, acutely becoming aware of sparks flying above her head, “what did you find, Count?” 

The last thing she was expecting (again today, funny enough) was for Dantes to give her a small yet heartfelt smile. “Kuku,” was the chuckle under his breath. Then, he said, “You may be the key.”

Vy slowly blinked at him, taking in the words in what felt like an eternity’s wait when it was really only a few seconds. Barely registering Robin Hood’s fake gagging behind her, she said to the Count, “What key?”

“…It is nothing, little flower,” he said in the same voice, and he raised a hand to once again pat her head. Even if the touch was still wispy and far too faint to really take in the sensation, it was obvious he was identifying himself as the “mysterious headpat” to Vy now, and Vy felt her heart swell a few centimeters outwards. “Just allow me to thank you. My Accomplice wouldn’t be where she is without you.” Something shined in his eyes at that moment, something along the lines of what looked like love and concern before it was squashed by the darkness that was what laid behind his yellow eyes. “Do not leave her.”

Even when Robin Hood was impatiently tapping his foot behind them, Vy knew her answer.

“Aya-san’s my friend, Count. There’s no way I could.” 

It seemed to be enough when the Count retracted his hand and brought it to his hat to hide his face. 

Vy couldn’t help herself. She proceeded to reach over and gently pat Dantes’ head through his hat. An eye for an eye, or so they said. Sure, it took standing up on her tiptoes to do so, but once Dantes was looking at her again, she said with a warmer smile, “With that established, do you want to eat porridge together? We can get Aya-san to eat with us.”

“You… You would mingle with me?”

“No,” Robin Hood said.

“Yes,” Vy said. She could faintly hear Archer put a palm to his face soon afterwards (even muttering something like, “Goddammit, Vy,”), but in the light of the moment, she couldn’t care.

Even if Edmond Dantes wasn’t her Servant, he was still a comrade, and considering how he looked after Aya-san more than Vy ever could, he was worth spending time with.

“Let’s go get Aya-san together, Count! With you around, I’m sure we’ll get her to eat something!”

“How… bright of you.”

They had a few steps to go, but it was progress!

#ayako #edmond dantes #fate grand order #mastersona Vy #fanfiction #short story #passing days #vy plays fate grand order #long post #tw: long post #panyum #gifs #sleepy now #robin hood #arturia pendragon

[supercalvin]

HI I’ve been basically binge reading ur merthur ficlets on ao3 and just. all your fics actually and... first of all i love your writing i would die for you and your AUs. all of them. second of all I have a huge list of shitty AUs that i’d love to see written so it took me ten minutes to actually choose one but. “We’re both in the vegetable isle and I just burst into tears while staring at the cabbages” AU if you’re still doing the ficlets, could I request this prompt? tysm!!!

…crying in the grocery store is too relatable for me right now.

Prompts + Ficlets

***

When Merlin had moved to Camelot, into his Uncle Gaius’ flat which sat above the grocery shop, it had just been part time while he adjusted to the city. Then, when his Uncle had passed away, Merlin had taken over the shop full time. The shop wasn’t huge, but he stocked it full of food fresh from the farms just outside of Camelot and a lot of the old-fashioned herbal medicines that Gaius had always offered.

Being a small shop in a quaint neighborhood, Merlin got to know a lot of his customers.

Mrs. Lee always came in on Sunday mornings, picking up the ingredients for her special Sunday dinners. She would tell Merlin about the dishes and if her son was coming to visit that night.

Some kids usually stopped by after school, grabbing the ice lollies or sweets that Merlin stocked by the register.

Mr. Davies never brought a grocery list with him and just bought what he remembered needing. Merlin had reminded him on more than one occasion that he had bought milk only two days before, and unless he had chugged a whole gallon of milk yesterday, he probably didn’t need another.

So Merlin knew his regulars. Even if he didn’t know their name, he could easily pick out someone who had stopped by his shop before. So that was why it was easy to tell that the blond man standing in the fresh produce section was a newcomer. He had a bag in hand, as if he understood why he was there, but he hadn’t picked up anything. It was almost closing time, five minutes to eight, and the man had been staring at a head of cabbage for the last ten minutes.

Merlin wondered if he was drunk. Or high. He didn’t look the type. He was dressed in a nice but rumbled pair of trousers and his button down was rolled up to his sleeves.

Merlin hesitated by the register, idly sweeping the floor. After another minute, Merlin finally gave into his curiosity and what his mother called ‘a natural tendency to help others’ (although Uncle Gaius had called it ‘a natural tendency to get into trouble).

Merlin cleared his throat, “Can I help you find something?”

With a jump, the man looked up and Merlin was startled to find the man’s face was wet. He hadn’t expected that.

“Oh,” Merlin said, too flummoxed to say more.

“Sorry,” The man’s eyes were red, deep purple circles around his eyes. “I’m just… I was trying to get myself together before I continued shopping. I think I lost track of time again.” He looked around, as if releasing how late it was. “I’ll just…” He tilted his head to the door.

With a quick evaluation, Merlin determined that the man had been born and raised to carry on with a stiff upper lip. Merlin on the other hand, had been raised by a kind mother who soothed his tears and never told him to hold it in.

“Oh forget that,” Merlin reached out to guide the man away from the produce and towards the back of the shop where Merlin had set up a small table and chairs for people to drink the complimentary tea. “Here I’ll make a fresh pot. Just sit right there.”

The man looked like he was going to protest, but then deflated, as if too exhausted to argue.

By the time Merlin came back from the kitchen with the tea and biscuits, the man looked more put together already.

“Thanks,” He said, “You didn’t have to.”

Merlin rolled his eyes, “And left you over there by the cabbage? I don’t think so.” Merlin poured the tea and offered cream and sugar, which the man took. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Got sacked,” The man said, looking pitifully into his tea.

“I see,” Merlin took the seat across from the man. “Will you be alright? Financially, I mean.”

The man nodded. “That’s not it. I worked for my Dad.”

Merlin winced, “Sounds complicated.”

The man snorted, which Merlin considered to be a good thing. Humor, even dark humor, could make a situation brighter.

“I came out to him,” The man said, eyes nervously flickering over to the tiny Pride flag sitting next to register. “It didn’t go well.”

Merlin felt his stomach clench in sympathy.

“His loss,” Merlin said, feeling outrage on behalf of this stranger. “Sounds like a right bastard. Sorry. Probably not what you want to hear right now.”

The man’s lip turned up, a facsimile of a smile. “Not sure what I want to hear.”

“Well, that’s alright too.” Merlin said before holding out his hand. “Merlin, by the way. Bi. I own the shop.”

“Arthur,” The man took Merlin’s hand, “Gay. Recently disinherited and unemployed. Bit of a catch, eh?”

Merlin smiled, “Those things are not in your control. Besides,” Merlin said, picking up a biscuit and gesturing with it, “You’re in the right spot. Gwen next door hosts a queer meet-up every Tuesday and I bring over fresh baked bread and anything else from the shop that needs getting rid of. And if you’re in need of a job, my friend Lance works somewhere downtown. Fancy place, I don’t know. But he could help you.”

Arthur frowned at him, “But you don’t know anything about me.”

Merlin shrugged and nibbled on his biscuit, “So?”

Arthur’s eyes began to water again.

Merlin dropped the biscuit and quickly patted Arthur’s hand, which was clenched next to the teacup. “Hey, I know I’m weird, but I didn’t mean to upset you.”

No tears fell, although it looked like a close call. “I’m just… My sister told me when if I came out to my Dad that there would be a community for me. I just didn’t expect a random bi man to invite me over for tea and offer to help me find a job.”

Merlin continued to pat his hand, “Well, I suppose that makes me your queer guardian angel. Or maybe I should be your fairy godmother? That’s more in line with being gay, isn’t it?”

Arthur laughed. It was the first genuine smile Merlin had seen from him. It was something special, Merlin thought, to behold something so intimate. Arthur had been through so much that day, having come out and been disinherited in the span of only a few hours, and Merlin was the one to not only see that freedom from despondency, but be the cause of it too.

***

Prompts + Ficlets

#merlin #merthur #merlin fic #ficlets #Anonymous

[livingmybestfictionallife]

Knife in a Gun Fight

Colson Baker/MGK 1920s bootlegger AU

A/N--This is the very short intro/prologue of my Colson Baker/MGK 1920s gangster AU. Message me to be added to the tag list, and chapter 1 will be up in a few hours.

Established in the plains of north Texas, a solitary, Irish Catholic family existed solely on their ability to farm and sell—farm, sell, farm, sell. For generations, farming produce, such as wheat and corn, was all any member of the Nevin family knew. There was nothing outside of the small, flat farm; no prospects of any other career, no hope for advancement, no life for a person with the last name Nevin, and the same could be said about the Klaffs. This was a fact of nature known for generations upon generations, until the birth of Siobhan-Honora Nevin.

As a bitter cold air pierced her neck, Siobhan peeled her eyes away from the newspaper she had been examining and carefully scanned the room. Sure, there was a sense of protection as she sat in a semi-circle booth surrounded by her cousins and brothers, but it didn’t take away from the sheer danger she knew they were in. The cozy and welcoming feeling of the small café she sat in did nothing to ease the gnawing within her stomach as her eyes nervously danced across the room once more before she returned her attention to the paper before her.

A fresh mug of steaming hot coffee was placed in front of her by a young woman who couldn’t have been much older than herself, and she tried to ignore the flirtatious glances the woman exchanged with her older cousin, George Klaff. “Do you mind,” Siobhan huffed under her breath as she pulled the paper back to her line of sight and cautiously examined it for any tips or leads that contained information about any of the five individuals gathered around the table.

“Get off it, Shiv,” George grumbled as he leaned over and propped his elbows up onto the table. “We’re in Saint Paul. Ain’t no body going to find us here.” Shiv eyed her cousin as she chewed anxiously at the inside of her lip.

“We’re ‘hiding out’ in the place all criminals go to lay low. It’s a safe haven for the lowly, and it’s the first place someone will come looking for us,” Shiv retorted as she lowered her voice and glared across the table at George.

“Lay off her, George. You know she’s right,” George’s little brother, Walter, piped up. At only twenty-one, Walter was the youngest of the bunch of familial misfits. He hadn’t meant to get mixed up in the actions of his older brother and cousins, but once he had, he knew there was no going back.

“Who’s the oldest one here?” George retorted as he scanned over the faces before him. “Who formed this operation nine years ago?”

“You know your role, George,” said Shiv’s older brother, Arthur, in a deep and low tone. “All of us do, and right now, it’s time for us to back down and for Shiv to take over. Got it?” George scrunched up his face and pursed his lips in aggravation, however he knew the words Art had spoken to be true.

Had it really been nine years? Shiv thought as she looked over the men’s faces around her. George was a year away from thirty with nothing to show as proof he’d lived life other than a few scars from narrow escapes from death. George was a fairly tall man, standing just below six foot, with a stocky build. His dark eyes were clouded with hooded brows and his black hair fell over his forehead in shaggy strands. The energetic and playful look he’d once had when he first, unintentionally, introduced his cousins and brother to this lifestyle was replaced with a stoic and mysterious grimace which instantly tied together his allure of being the tall, dark, and handsome stranger of the group.

Art stood slightly taller than George with a leaner frame but equally as strong and muscular as his older cousin. He was only seventeen when he began driving George around to neighboring counties, unaware at first of what they were doing, however upon realizing there was something to do with his life other than farming, Art willingly continued working with George. His deep blue eyes had only grown sharper with time and his once sandy blonde hair had darkened into a light brown.

A year of Art and George wandering throughout Collin, Grayson, and Hunt counties was more than enough time for Shiv to connect the dots and blackmail her way into the non-nefarious criminal activities the pair of cousins were performing. At sixteen, she could see the benefits her brother and cousin were bringing their families, and being the only educated member of either family—aside from their parents—Shiv demanded to be let into the operation. She’d always been tough and stronger than other girls her age. Being a girl didn’t excuse her from working on the farm once she returned home from school or had no where to go during the summer, however it did damn her to the fate of being nothing more than bride-wealth for her family. She saw what her cousin and brother were doing to be a means of escaping her fate, and like the older two members of the group, she embraced it.

Undenounced to Shiv, her younger brother Edmund had overheard her conversation with George and Art, and threatened to tell their parents if they didn’t include him. Two years later, when Walt was fifteen, he joined what would become known across the country as the Nevin-Klaff gang.

The papers have it wrong, Shiv would constantly tell herself as she read article after article in nearly every Tribune, Press, News, Gazette, and Journal from Texas to Minnesota containing the words Nevin and Klaff. They only see us as breaking the law. They don’t care that it’s a stupid law, and they certainly don’t try and see the benefits small farms across the country are reaping because of it. Shiv knew the papers didn’t care, that law enforcement didn’t care, and that no glory would ever be sent their way, but she knew that because of her, her brothers, and her cousins, farmers that would have otherwise lost their land to banks are now developing nest eggs, and that was all that mattered to her.

“I wonder how Ma and Pop are doing,” Eddy sighed as his eyes trailed the paper over his sister’s shoulder. She knew he was trying to read, and after what she’d been teaching him, she assumed he could come to the same conclusion she had—they were going to be on the move for quite some time.

“Sometimes I have dreams of Mom and Pa swinging out on the porch swing with Auntie Johanna and Uncle Owen, not having to worry about a damned thing anymore, but then I remember they’re probably worrying about us,” Walt sighed as he scooped some eggs up on his fork and shoveled them into his mouth. “It makes me want to see them again.”

“Y’all know we can’t ever go home,” Shiv commented sharply as her eyes darted between the two younger members of the group. Edmund was only a year younger than her, but only growing up on the farm and not having any friends outside of their cousins made him seem much younger than his biological age, and even thought Walter was only three years younger than Shiv, he shared a similar outlook as Eddy. “I don’t mean to sound harsh, but you knew this was a possibility when you signed up,” she said in a softer and more gentle tone after seeing how her brother’s face fell at her harsh words.

“They’re still kids, Shiv,” George whispered into his cousin’s ear only to have her turn her head to face him. Her pale eyes shone up at him as her dark hair fell around the soft, pale skin of her face. Everything about her was binary; her features were sharp yet gentle, she was dangerous but offered safety and comfort, and the one he struggled most with: the wisdom that aged her stood in stark contrast to her youth. Too many times both George and Art forgot that the brains leading them across the country and into safety while still calculating ways to help others was barely older than the two members he still considered kids.

“So, what do we do?” Art asked as he looked at his sister for guidance. Shiv laid the paper down in her lap and looked nervously over her accomplices’ shoulders before lowering her voice to a whisper.

“Local cops are looking for us in the towns we hit on the way up here. We stuck to smaller cities and already returned the profit to the farms. We have enough cash to keep us tied over for a bit, but we have to be careful. No blowing cash, starting fights, or trying to find a quick score or fast job, got it?” she asked as she met each of her family members’ eyes. “Don’t draw attention to yourself by any other groups hanging around here. Most of the country’s attention is on Capone, so there’s still a way we can slide by unnoticed.”

“We can’t stay here forever, Shiv,” Art said softly as he stretched his back and looked out over the café.

“We just have to stay long enough for me to pull off one last scheme.” A devious smirk tugged at her lips as she plotted what was sure to be a one-way ticket to safety for her and her family. Shiv thought through everything: how to gain protection and ensure safety, how to pass through dangerous territory without feeling the threat of danger, how to not only survive, but thrive. She knew her plan inside and out, but there was one obstacle that stood in her way, one uncertainty she figured she could face and be done with, one man who was known by outsiders solely as The Gun.

Next Chapter 

#colson baker #colson baker fanfiction #colson baker fanfic #colson baker au #mgk #mgk fanfic #mgk au #machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly fanfiction #machine gun kelly fanfic #machine gun kelly au #gangster AU #1920s gangsters #colson x reader #colson x ofc #mgk x ofc #machine gun kelly x ofc #knife in a gun fight

[pauleonotis]

I have a question, what do you think the jobs of the harry potter character would be if it was sent in a modern time with no magic? (Pick any characters, you want :))

Thank you for the ask!! :D and that’s honestly a really good question— :0

Okay so I picked some of the characters where I almost instantly came up with something. I also wanna add that so some of them are really REALLY random (as in so random that I don’t even have an explanation why) and some are probably the most obvious and uncreative choices ever, but here we go:

I think Molly Weasley would have an Etsy shop on which she sells sweaters and other knitted clothes (especially cute stuff for babies).

Arthur I believe would be a conservator/restorer especially focusing on antique furniture and cars.

I believe Hermione would be a librarian and sometimes help out her parents as dental assistant.

Ron would probably run either a sweet shop with Fred and George or a toy store?

Since social media in this modern times is an option too I believe Luna would be a famous Instagram artist/model who shows pictures of her in the most random but still aesthetic outfits while her hands&arms (sometimes her hair and clothes too) are full of paint, the painting she just finished would be next to her or she would be holding it. In her captions she’d write poems that kinda don’t make sense but at the same time do.

I believe Fleur would be an actress and a model.

Neville would own a cannabis farm- LMAO OKAY NO I‘M SORRY—

Maybe he has a huge flower plantation? I can also image he‘d travel and document all kind of plants but I like to think that Neville doesn’t need that much adventure and enjoys simpler things and finds comfort in his every day routine.

Vincent and Gregory would probably be body guards and/or bouncers.

Colin Creevey? Paparazzi.

Rita ngl would probably be a famous reporter or author that everyone isn’t sure what to think about and who also tweets a lot of shit... *cough*

Gilderoy Lockhard would be a school sports teacher. Don’t @ me, here’s why: He‘d smile at the students pretending he doesn’t know how much everyone hates the class and then would fail to spread some motivation because he’s letting the students do everything by their own anyway, he just stands there looking good in his sporty outfit and with his pipe - tho he‘d freak some of the students out by wearing shorts. He‘d tell stories about competitions he has participated in already but make sure to never mention any names in case one of his students wants to research it. All the other teachers would talk about how fit he is and athletic.

He also once self published a book, which got banned after they found out years later he actually copied the story off of a fanfiction. So it wasn’t his work at all (but none of the students need to know about that-).

Charlie probably would work with animals, maybe as part of the animal control, especially wild animals? Or maybe he‘d travel and do documentaries about wildlife. Maybe he’d also be a journalist and/or a youtuber.

Since we don’t know that much about either Pansy and Blaise from the books and movies I’ll just let myself get influenced by their fanon characters.

I believe Pansy would spend a lot of money for charity work and would support organizations etc. I feel like she’d have a lot of money because of her parents which she will inherit but she still has a small job in an office where she basically most of the time answers calls — or maybe she‘d be a wedding planner.

I believe Blaise could be a designer. Or maybe a divorce lawyer—

Ginny probably would be a famous football (as in american football) player. I feel like she’d also do kickboxing in her free time.

I like to think that Minerva would work in an orphanage and even tho she’s strict her kids would absolutely love her. Before she sends any of them away she‘d make sure the new family is a perfect match and if there’s anything fishy she would never risk sending one of her children in those parents care, apart from that she’d also keep contact to the parents because of course she wants to know how her children are doing.

I believe Draco would do amazing either as graphic designer, or as model, or as interpreter (in English, French and Latin - since I love headcanon‘s where he’s fluent in french and I picked latin too because I feel like this would’ve been a language he’s interested in? Idk).

"Training for the ballet, Potter?" - so what IF Harry’s a famous indian ballet dancer who was also already part in some movies (and that Draco happens to have an immense crush on)?

Okay I need to stop now or else I’ll come up with a new Drarry Au LMAO—

#okay maybe those are more modern aus instead of what i really think could be their job? #idkkk

[darlingsdevil]

The Ballads of Rebirth (Arthur Morgan x Reader)

Chapter 11: The Resurrection of The Light

Masterlist

A/N: Hi guys! I’m still alive lol. I’ve had a lot going on, and when I usually write (on Saturday’s) have now been taken up by five hour rehearsals (rip me). An extra long chapter for you guys. I did a lot of editing, as I wasn’t originally happy with how this chapter played out. Also, we’re close to the end. Lee’s ending and Arthur’s ending (canon ending) will be two chapters each! After the original fifteen, there will be four more. The split will be at chapter 15, unless it ends up being longer (which it probably will). I’ll be writing some oneshots and AU’s + playlists for the finale. Still playing around with a few final ideas.. think I have it all set up (mostly..). I will say however, both endings will end relatively happy. Relatively.

Hope you enjoy

Also, if you understand the title, you are super cool B)

•••

“What the hell do you mean she’s gone?” Lee yelled.

“What does it sound like? She’s not in the room anymore.” Arthur quipped back, becoming increasingly annoyed.

Lee ran to the stockroom, you weren’t there. Then to his father's room, you weren’t there either. Mr. Rinascita was sleeping. Lee hoped he wouldn’t be woken.

Panic rose in Lee, it felt suffocating. He pushed the door open, shouting your name into the street, looking both ways and searching for your face upon the scatters of people. No response. Arthur came down the steps, holding his gun in hand, the air around him was heavy and electric.

“Where’d you take her?” Arthur growled at Lee. Lee turned around in the street, glaring at him.

“You think I know?” Lee laughed, his voice dripping with venom. The cool air fell over him, but he was nothing but calm.

Arthur pulled him into the general store by the collar of his shirt, Lee stumbled but didn’t fall, choking and sputtering on air.

“You think I’m scared of you, outlaw?” Lee spat at him, catching his breath.

“You should be, boy.” Arthur told him.

“I’m surprised she married a man like you.”

“You don’t know the first thing about her then.” Arthur scoffed.

It was like a standoff. The two men glaring at each other with pure rage.

“She's never done anything like this before. The second you show up, she goes missing.” Lee excused Arthur.

“You really think I’d abduct my own wife?”

“I’m sure you’ve done a hell of a lot worse than that.”

“You’re right. I have. That means I won’t have any qualms about putting a bullet right between your eyes either. But lucky for you, I care about my wife, so I won’t do that.” Arthur told him, slowly lowering his gun.

Lee remained silent, narrowing his eyes at Arthur.

“We have to find her.” Lee told Arthur. Arthur nodded, setting aside his hatred for Lee for a moment's notice.

“We’ll make a report for her at the station. The police officers will know what to do.” Lee suggested.

“No, police won’t do anything. I’ll find her myself.” Arthur grumbled already walking out the door.

“You’ll get lost out there!” Lee shouted. He didn’t care if Arthur got hurt out there, but he knew you cared for him deeply, why however, he wasn’t sure.

“I’ve tracked her down before. She never goes far.” Arthur chuckled bitterly, standing in the street.

Lee was silent for a moment.

“I’m coming with you.” Lee told him with confidence.

Arthur turned to Lee, raising a brow.

“Boy, you don’t know what’s out there. I’m sure she’s gotten herself into some sort of trouble already. Do you even know how to handle a gun?” Arthur asked him. Lee was angry, Arthur was talking down to him like a dog.

“No, but I’m sure I could learn. Besides with you, tough mountain man, I’m sure I wouldn’t need it.”

Arthur scoffed, but held open the door for him.

“Wait, I.. I have to check on my dad.” Lee said, worry filling him. Arthur was halfway out the door, ready to leave Lee behind.

“Wait! Please!”

Arthur swiveled around, waiting for Lee to move.

“The longer the wait the further she’s gone.”

“Please.” Lee begged him. Arthur understood, a long time ago he would have done the same for a certain father figure.

“Alright. Go on. Quickly.” Arthur sighed, leaning against the door frame.

Lee nodded, rushing up the stairs.

He was gone a few moments, and they were out the door and down the street in another.

Arthur was sure you headed for the hills, as you couldn’t go anywhere else since the river blocked that entry off. He hadn’t seen much of the terrain up there, only seeing it from a distance.

“We’ll head for the hills, she probably isn’t anywhere in the city.” Arthur told Lee, Lee kept a watchful eye, making sure none of the few strangers on the street were you. You could easily be hidden within the crowds of strangers during the day, but it was night and few people were out.

“How do you know she’s not in the city?” Lee questioned him as they continued their search.

“Everytime she goes missing she never stays in the city. She’s gone missing a few times before, usually when things start getting rough and she needs time to cool down.”

Lee was dumbfounded, he couldn’t imagine you thinking so rashly. But then again, you were very different before he knew you. Living with a gang, being a wanted outlaw, even marrying one. It still felt surreal to him.

Arthur remembered you went missing the day he earned his death sentence at the doctors office, he pushed you away and you ran. You were gone for two days, and when you came back you were even more upset towards yourself that you had left him when he needed you so badly, unfortunately he couldn’t look for you, there was too much going on and no one else seemed to notice you were missing either. It rained that day, like the sky was weeping for the both of you.

The men walked in silence, their heels clicking against the cobblestone streets.

“Did you miss her?” Lee asked him as they continued their search.

Arthur was silent for a moment.

“Of course I did. Everyday, everyday I woke up and my heart ached because I had no idea where she was, or if she was even alive. I missed her every damn day, and now I’ve returned to her.” Arthur’s voice was heavy with emotion. Lee could see the longing in his eyes, shamed burned in him, hidden by his wall of pride he had put up. Lee acted foolishly, automatically assuming Arthur fit the stereotype of the rugged outlaw, and perhaps he did and he had already seen that side of Arthur, but he had just seen the kind, emotional side of him. If you hadn’t fit the conventional outlaw style and he had given you a chance, why shouldn’t he give Arthur a chance?

And then Lee remembered. Arthur was the one thing standing in Lee’s way.

“I can tell she still loves you.”

“And she loves you too. Awful situation, ain’t it?” The two men laughed.

“I guess so.” Lee mumbled through his chuckles. He examined the faces of every person he had seen on the deserted streets, glanced down every alleyway and you were nowhere to be found. Arthur knew you wouldn’t have hidden in plain sight, you weren’t like that.

“How’d you even meet her?” Arthur asked him. They had reached the outskirts of the city, the houses were bigger and newer, large sprawling farm houses with new projects being added damn near everyday. The forest was about a mile out, with various hills that shot upwards making the land look like an ancient land giant, slumbering away for the rest of eternity. Perhaps if the men listened hard enough, they could hear the soft snores of an urban legend.

“She came with a family. A man, a woman and a boy. The man had scars, I remember. They looked like they had been running for days, and I bet they were, from what she has told me about all that,” Lee told him. Arthur nodded in response.

“They stopped in the store, she asked if we had any openings, we didn’t really need another set of hands but my father insisted on hiring her. The rest is history.” Lee finished.

Arthur was silent, taking in his words.

“How’d you meet her in that gang?” Lee asked him after a moment. Arthur looked surprised that Lee had known of his past, but recovered quickly.

“Well.. I’d been in the gang for about 10 or so years when she came along. We saved her from a gang who’d kidnapped her.” Lee stared in awe at Arthur, he had such a vibrant story, one worthy of the novels his father reads. Lee was a simple shop clerk, having never left the city and would probably never have to leave. This was the most exciting thing that had possibly ever happened to him but to Arthur, it was simply another day.

“She only trusted me at first, stuck by my side like a stray dog, but I was foolish and was still in love with a woman who couldn’t love me back so we wasted a few of the years we could’ve been together. Boy, was that girl wild. She could pull a gun on you faster than you could blink. One thing led to another, we got married, and then it all went to hell.” Arthur finished.

Perhaps it was foolish to walk through the outskirts of Richfield, at night no less. Both men hadn’t quite thought it through, blind by their love for you. Arthur was keeping a watchful eye on the ground, the rain had created mud but there were wagon and horse tracks covering a majority of the muddy dirt road.

“Should we shout her name?” Lee asked after a moment.

“No, I’m sure she’s in the woods. If we shouted her name she’d no doubt hide.”

“I still think we should enlist the police. What if she didn’t escape, what if someone kidnapped her?”

“I’m a wanted outlaw, and she’s still wanted too, I’m sure of it. Members of the Van der Linde gang are still at large after the mess we made down south. She’s too smart to get kidnapped.”

Lee’s eyebrows furrowed in deep thought. He was beyond worried. With the new arrival of your recently revived husband, and the wedding two weeks away, you could easily get cold feet and leave him, and to top if all off you could have been kidnapped, or ran away and never come back like his sister had. He felt his emotions bubbling inside him, how long would it be till he cracked?

“My sister ran off and never came back.” Lee told Arthur solemnly, the twigs crunching underneath their shoes.

“I’m sorry that happened to your sister, but I don’t think this will happen to my wife.”

“You better be right, Mr. Morgan.” Lee was annoyed at Arthur’s nonchalant response, you could have been seriously injured and he had barely any worry, like it was simply another day. It angered Lee.

They walked for a few more minutes, there were barely any tracks made by human footprints in the road and the night had begun to become disheartening for both of them. Your lack of presence took a toll on both men, more so on Lee.

Wolves howled in the distance, far off, Lee froze.

“We should turn back.” Lee spoke frantically.

Arthur turned around, looked back towards the road and then to Lee again and nodded.

“Maybe those wolves found John Marston instead.” Arthur mumbled, humor in his voice.

“Who’s John Marston?” Lee asked as they made their way back to the general store. It was a long walk home, the two men dreading it already.

“A close friend. Well, he’s not a friend. More like a brother to (Y/N) and I. Well anyways, he got attacked by wolves while we were in the mountains, more south then we are now, near Valentine - if you know where that is. Was a few months before everything went to hell. Never let him live it down for a moment.”

“I’ve never heard of it.” Lee responded. The city was somewhat closer now, the street lamps looked like fireflies in the distance.

“I live close to that city now, with a friend, he built the cottage for us when I was still sick.” Arthur continued.

“You were sick?” Lee looked at him.

“Yeah, really sick for awhile. Did some bad things before I had realized how sick I was, and I guess it was an eye opener of sorts. Did some bad things to my wife too when I was sick, but it’s in the past now, I’m just glad I found her again.” Arthur told him slowly. Lee saw it then, why you had fallen for him, and why with Arthur still around you would never truly be his. You and Arthur had something Lee didn’t, and that was history. But Lee’s love for you was real, and that’s all that mattered. Lee would stand his ground and fight for your love. He just hoped you would make the right choice in the end.

•••

Mr. Rinascita was furious with Lee. Lee finally confessed to your absence during dinner on the first day in. Lee hadn’t mentioned Arthur yet, there was enough on his father's plate already. Lee had never seen his father so angry, usually the calm, but cheerful man..

“You lost your fiancé?” Mr. Rinascita said glaring daggers into Lee’s eye’s. Lee tried to explain things as calmly as he could, while avoiding the major details of Arthur’s arrival, simply stating an old friend had resurfaced and it overwhelmed you.

Lee nodded slowly.

“Well then what the hell are you doing waiting here? Go find the police, get them to find her. I won’t have what happened to your sister happen to her! Partire!” Mr. Rinascita yelled, shooing him away. Lee scurried to the door and pulled on his coat.

Next, Lee nearly ran to Arthur’s hotel, which was literally just down the street from the general store, and quickly told him what was going on. Arthur understood, but still opposed the idea. Arthur was sure to tell Lee to leave your real name out of it and only tell them your first name and Lee’s own last name, Rinascita.

After that was the police station. It was bustling with people, officers making reports at their desks and the jail cells holding multiple criminals. The woman at the front desk smiled at him sweetly.

“I’d like to make a missing persons report.” He told her, resting his hands on the wooden counter.

She nodded and pulled something out of a cabinet, handing him a paper and a pen. The woman told him to fill it out and once he was done and an officer would speak with him.

The paper held basic information, your name, age, height, last known location and place of residence. He wrote it all down and turned it back to the front desk. She led him to a desk that was incredibly clean and orderly and asked him to sit down.

The chair was rickety. The police station smelled of old wood with a mixture of gunpowder, it did not calm Lee’s nerves. He had never been inside a police station, or even talked to a police officer. This entire process was new to him. Lee secretly wished Arthur was here, Arthur would have been able to give the officers more information than he could have.

Lee’s foot tapped against the wooden floor rapidly, officers walked by him, paying him no mind. The desk he sat at was incredibly orderly and larger than a majority of the others. He felt out of place, ordinary, when probably everyone in the room had a much greater story than he had.

A police officer sat down, catching him off guard. Lee shifted uncomfortably.

“Hello, Mr. Rinascita,” The police officer said, setting down his paper file.

Lee responded with a small greeting. The police officer was young, possibly in his late twenties, like Lee. But his eyes were tired and cold, with a steely gaze that made you feel as though everything you said was the wrong answer.

“How long has your wife been missing?”

•••

The next day, a group of officers went to look for you. They started their search at eight in the morning and came back empty handed at nine at night. Lee’s anxiety grew as the search continued, the police officers didn't allow him to come. Sitting, waiting for you to return home to him was one of the worst pains he ever experienced. His father barely talked to him, his fury needing no words. Arthur hadn’t been to the general store, simply assuming Arthur had been searching for you as well. Lee felt useless, sitting in the store, watching the windows for your safe arrival home. It was truly dreadful. He hated every second of it.

Lee filled the void in his heart with working non stop, sweeping the floors every two hours, making sure the shelves were stocked and kept orderly. It was the only thing keeping him sane.

When nine rolled around, the police officer head of your case, came into the store. The same man with the judgemental gaze. He had learned to loathe that man already, speaking to the officer brought him no comfort.

The cop, Officer Clark seemed to be the bearer of bad news. Clark was discerning to say the least, pessimistic.

“We did find evidence of her at a small camp, a few miles outside of the city. The hounds were able to follow a trail, but wolves scared them off. We were close too, some of the men believe she could have been in the trees where we turned back. We’ll start the first thing in the morning again.” Officer Clark said cooly. Lee let out a sigh he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, he leaned on the counter.

“Thank you, Officer Clark. Truly.”

“You’re welcome. We will find your wife.”

The word wife seemed so natural. Like it was meant for Lee and you alone.

Officer Clark smiled and left. The first genuine emotion Lee had seen on Officer Clark since their first interaction. He left quickly after that.

Lee was closer to you. Closer then it seemed he had ever been, yet you were separated from him by miles of land. He learned things about you, new things. Despite the shocking information he learned, he loved you even more. Your absence made him realize how much he truly loved you, you were his second half.

Lee would wait for you to return to him, no matter how long it took.

•••

#masterlist #tbor

[outlaw-unicorn]

The dragon!Arthur AU you didn’t know you needed

(and maybe didn’t want either but @eaglepatronus and I had too much fun with this :D)

here be dragons (and charthur)

AcademySenseiIruka

Now I can't stop thinking about a dragon Arthur AU where Charles is the knight sent to slay the dragon. As he searches for the mighty beast, Charles meets and falls in love with a cowboy (Arthur) who it turns out, is the dragon he's hunting. XD

Charles: Is that a tail? Arthur: No. Charles: Sure looks like one. Arthur: No, It's a trick of the light. Charles: ... Arthur: (knocks over a table with his wagging tail) :)

[...]

AcademySenseiIruka 

Ohhhhhh, hers my version.

Arthur's mom was a dragon who tried to live life as a normal human. See, all the dragons in Brittian were hunted to near extinction and she fled to America in search of safety. Eventually she had Arthur, and when Arthur was young an irate drunk tried to kill him and, sensing her child was in danger, she took her true form to defend him. Later, when she was human again, she tried to explain things to her husband. To tell him she really loved him but he wouldn't have it. He shot and killed her.

Arthur then spent years chained to a wall in a deep cellar. That is until two outlaws, Hosea and Dutch found him. They raised him as their own but Arthur was always careful to keep his mothers secret. But one day, when the law was coming down on them, Arthur had no choice but to turn into a dragon and escape. When he landed, Arthur expected to be yelled at. To be disowned or attacked... and though Hosea was frightened, Dutch was excited. He praised Arthur for his abilities and began coming up with ways to use Arthur to rob banks. Eventually the Van Der Linde gang became known for picking up monsters as John Marston, a young Werewolf joined them as well as others cursed with magic.

After years of traveling and robbing banks, Arthur had amassed quite a bounty. And though no one outside the gang knew Arthur's true identity, Dutch had begun to treat Arthur more and more like an animal. Eventually new members of the gang were allowed to use Arthur the same way Dutch had. One day Micah ordered Arthur to attack Strawberry and in the attack Arthur felt something break inside him. He really was a monster. Some bloodthirsty beast that deserved to be hunted and killed. Arthur despised everything about himself... But Charles, a new member of the gang was a psychic. He could hear Arthur's fears and hate and self-loathing. Charles could feel Arthur's heart breaking, his grief for a life of peace he had never known.

Charles then sets out to prove Arthur is wrong about himself. To teach the dragon just how precious and kind he really is. Charles brings to Arthur's attention every good thought he thinks, every kind act he performs. But also he swiftly warns him away of the untrue dark self-deprecating thoughts.

In the process of saving Arthur from himself, Charles begins to fall head over heels for him. It doesn't take long for Charles to discover a steady growing feeling of love, growing in Arthur, is directed towards him.

But as the two fall more and more in love, Dutch and Micah have set their sights on attacking a heavily guarded bank. If they pull it off, they could be set for life, but if they fail, Arthur would be captured... Now it's up to Charles to convince Arthur he is worth more than what Dutch has convinced him he is. That he isn't some monster to be summoned and used, that he is precious and worthy of being protected.

rivendellelve 

Really loving Psychic Charles ♥ :D does that mean, in that universe Trelawny is an actual magician? :D

AcademySenseiIruka 

Gosh, didn't think of that but yes. lol

And Micah is probably able to manipulate thoughts... So in the end, it's down to a battle between Charles and Micah. Micah trying to controle thoughts and Charles being able to break others free because he can feel the true thoughts of a person.

rivendellelve 

Dang, now I'm imagining the big showdown between Charles and Micah.

Maybe Micah has taken over Arthur's mind bc he wants to use him for his plans (and swooping in an a dragon definitely fits his ego) and Charles has to rescue Arthur and then he and Micah are fighting for control :D that would be epic :D

AcademySenseiIruka 

YEAH!!! Charles hasn't noticed Micah even has that abuilitiy untill he tried to sway Arthur into doing the plan by making him bloodthirsty. Arthur can't tell what are his thoughts and what are Micah's but Charles can and tries to stop Micah. During the mental battle, Micah tells Arthur he has taken over Dutch. It enrages Arthur (just as Micah wanted) enough to transform. With Arthur angry, Micah is able to take control but Charles is able to get through to Arthur by reminding him he is kind. that he isn't a monster and that he is loved. Eventually, it breaks Arthur from Micah's intrusive thoughts and Charles is able to protect him.

Together they Kill Micah and when he dies, Dutch is able to break free of Micah's hold as well. Apparently, Dutch been trapped in his own head but still aware of what's going on. Just not able to stop Micah. He apologizes to Arthur for how he has treated him and Arthur forgives him, knowing it wasn't really Dutch all along. The camp goes back to the way it was and they all live happily ever after. It ends with Arthur and Charles cuddling together, both blissfully content... And Arthur realizes he is finally at peace.

(hope it's not too heavy-handed but I think it's a satisfying conclusion)

rivendellelve 

This is the best thing ever! !! Like, I can totally see Micah taunting Arthur and Arthur falling for it even though he knows better and oh the drama Charles desperately trying to get through to Arthur while he's huge (and incredibly dangerous ) dragon ❤❤❤

And the idea that Dutch is conscious but unable to break free! ! (Have been playing around with a demonic possession story in my head for a bit that was kinda like that bit your Micah-version is way better ) Probably really gets him thinking about how he acted before that people didn't notice he was being controlled He probably changes for better after that

Now I imagine the gang actually settling down somewhere peaceful Like everyone gets on Arthurs back and they fly somewhere far away from Pinkertons in the dead of night Maybe they start a farm. Mangoes may or may not be involved 😁

AcademySenseiIruka

GASP... MICAH IS A DEMON!!! It would explain is mind manipulation and also give him other abilities, so no one would suspect him with controlling people. Maybe Micah is pretending to be a warlock or something? Like he can make things explode. But he hides his mind manipulation abilities because the more unaware you are the more effective it is.

Also, Flying off on "taxi" Arthur is the new best ending. They fly off to Tahiti and that's is where Arthur and Charles cuddle etc. If you want to write this it's all yours. I would love to see this as a full story but can't... plus you are the better writer. But no pressure. It's just fun to brainstorm.

rivendellelve

Oh boy, I would love to write it (even more so I really want to read it) but there is no way I have the time and energy for such a long story 😅 But sharing ideas is so much fun

Speaking of not-so-Warlock Micah, I'm thinking one of the other gangmembers is an actual warlock (maybe one of the girls) and they're something's off about Micah but mindcontrolled Dutch is like noooo, the poor man has just been through a lot

Also I remember reading something about a dragon whose treasure are his friends instead of gold and I can't stop thinking bout how the gang means everything to Arthur So when people go on a trip he's always lowkey clingy Like you'll be back soon, right? And lots of stay safe's

When Dutch and Hosea found out he was a dragon they got him some gold and were very confused when he more or less ignored it

Hosea got a bit teary eyed once he realized what was going on

AcademySenseiIruka

Awwww, I love that! Arthur is so precious as a person hoarder! And he probably doesn't even realize it and Hosea never brings it up to him cause he doesn't want Arthur to be embarrassed. (cause at this point its instinct and he can't really stop it)

Gasp, it would also explain why Arthur is sooooo angry with John when he leaves! It's not just that john left the gang it's that one of his treasures left. lol

Hosea would have the ability to see the future but because of Micah, his visions have been confusing lately. He keeps seeing Micah as a murderous dragon but Hosea says nothing cause he doesn't want Arthur to think he thinks Arthur is a monster. (also in the game Hosea says a lot of prophetic stuff, so it would fit)

Grimshaw would straight up be a witch. lol

(also, cause I didn't mention it before, Micah controls Arthur during the Strawberry attack. Arthur just doesn't figure it out until the battle with Micah at the end. Its why he got all bloodthirsty and why he enjoyed killing. Micah's influence taking over is why he felt broken.)

rivendellelve

yes to all of this!! i love Hosea being clairvoyant1! It fits sooooo well with canon. and just imagine - Dutch usually would accept Hosea's advice without question but suddenly Hosea's abilities don't work properly anymore and he can't fulfil his role as an adisor the same way as before. So Hosea thinks that's why Dutch isn't listening to him anymore

and he has no idea Micah is responsible for both.

and of course Micah controlled Arthur during the attack. Micah probably figured a high-stress situation such as this would be a perfect opportunity to test how far he could push Arthur with the level of control he already had over him

Grimshaw being a witch is awesome :D I'm pretty sure whenever someone was getting sick, she'd send Arthur to gather some herbs that she sneakily added to Pearson's stew. and what would've been a fulllblown pneumonia just ended up being a minor cold :)

also, can Uncle be a a satyr / pan? that way he could claim lumbago and goatlegs as reasons why he can't work :D

AcademySenseiIruka

Yes to everything! OMG, It's amazing how well this AU is fitting the canon. lol

I think Marry should be half muse. But she doesn't want to be someone's inspiration, she wants to be an author.

Molly should be some high elf princess runaway. Cuse it fits her personality.

Going back to what you said about one of the girls being a warlock... well I read a story a long time ago about this warlock who's magic was stronger the drunker he got. So Karen? Like usually she's just a normal human but when she gets drunk things start to levitate.

I keep wondering what Dutch would be. He needs to be something impressive because his overconfidence would be why he never suspected Micah when he should have. But nothing is really coming to mind.

Can Duffy be a Centar? lol

Maybe Sean would be a tall leprechaun? or is that too much? lol Nymph maybe?

rivendellelve

:D :D :D drunk Karen OMG I can totally imagine her being completely hammered and the most random things start happening. (and actually she's even more powerful sober but trauma and lack of confidence has her convinced she needs to be drunk to be able to use her powers)

and I love Mary-Beth deciding to be her own muse and not somebody elses :D

I think Sean tells everyone he's a leprechaun bc that's what people assume and what random a-holes on the street yell after him. but actually he's a Selkie :D

and Kieran is definitely a centaur. that's why he's so good with horses :D

Maybe Abigail is a Medium? and can talk to spirits? she's been making a living like that but bc there are so many fakes she has to resort to cheap tricks like levitating candles to make people believe her. (she tried a show with Karen once and it worked like a charm. Until drunk Karen started to sing ring dang doo :D)

but Dutch is difficult indeed. I am almost tempted to give him either no abilities - fitting the theme of him raging against society even though being born upperclass / upper middleclass. only this time he's like society'll never accept us "monsters" even though he's the only one that isn't

or make him a vampire. bc his ego would definitely fit - vampires being quite canny in the art of mindmanipulation themselves. He'd be so sure no one could ever control him that he only realizes once it's too late. he probably has Pearson or maybe Strauss make him some special ointment so he can stay out in the sun

AcademySenseiIruka 

I love both your ideas for Dutch for different reasons. Love him being a normal human (or norm) I don't know why. I think it's cause it somehow fits his personality to be some average person but how he carries himself is what gives him power and authority. It also makes him being in charge more of an illusion. That said, I also love the Vampire idea. Perhaps one that feeds on animals, not people? I just think high honor Dutch wouldn't feed like that. But once Micah gets involved maybe he would. That could be one of the warning signs for Arthur and Hosea.

I think Lenny should be an apprentice of some kind. Cause he's young he doesn't know quite what he want's to be yet so he's kinda a jack of all trades.

Speaking of Jack, with his dad being a werewolf and mom being a medium, would Jack be both or would he have the abuility to talk with animals? Like comunicate with animal spirits etc?

rivendellelve

OOOOh Micah is the one who starts convincing Dutch to feed on O'Driscolls and Skinners and Lemoyne raiders bc they're "basically doing the world a favor" and it goes downhill from there

maybe Lenny was training to become a magician when his dad was killed and he never completed his training but Trelawney decides to teach him a thing or two

and Jack can definitely talk to animals :D it might not be clear enough for real sentences but he gets pretty good impressions and can like, ask a bunny for the nearest clover field and he'll know the direction and have a pretty good idea of how far away it'll be :D

AcademySenseiIruka

XD Yes, Jack would be their best scout. lol Also, Dutch would just have him talk to bunnies and deer to find the safest places to camp.

So this got out of hand :D but it was too much fun not to share. Maybe definitely we’re hoping someone goes and writes dragon!Arthur fic :D

(and if you do it would be awesome if you dropped the AO3 link or tagged us)

link to complete thread https://archiveofourown.org/comments/277788937

#RDR2 #RDR #charthur #dragon!Arthur AU #ff #I need a fantasy to fanfic machine asap #bc I really wanna read this #also filed under: #why you shouldn't be afraid to talk to authors in the comment section #Arthur Morgan #Charles Smith #Dutch Van der Linde #Hosea Matthews #John Marston

[yourdeepestfathoms]

shout out loud (the moment of the peak) [Six Cowgirl AU]

Derby Lineup

Talk Of The Town and Arthur

All That Jazz and Samuel

SheBeast and Bulldog

Rookie’s Gambling Chance and Lucas

Hell Comes Handily and Salt

Out-Burn Kamikaze and Hurricane

Lord of The Flies and George

Donut Tell Daddy and Hugo

Jewel-Eyes and Rodric

Deepest Fathoms and Rocky

———————

The fair grounds was a cacophony of sounds: shouting, neighing, clatters of tools, hoofsteps, laughing- it was all swirling into one big mess of noises, and Joan could barely think because of it. By the way Blazer kept fidgeting and tensing his muscles beneath her thighs, he was antsy, too.

“It’s okay, boy, it’s okay.” Joan murmured to her steed. She saw his ears flick back and his haunches shift underneath her, but he doesn’t rear. “I know, it’s loud. I don’t like it, either.”

Carefully, she slid off of Blazer’s back and walked him to the stables where Bessie and Maria were waiting for her.

“Maria got you registered,” Bessie said. “You need to go get dressed.”

“Dressed...? Oh, right! Yeah. Yeah, I’ll go do that!”

Bessie shook her head as she watched the girl scurry off to the jockey dressing rooms.

“She’s a scruffy little thing, isn’t she?”

Bessie turned around to see Aragon standing there, a small smile playing on her lips.

“Catherine.” Bessie said, “I didn’t know you were racing today.”

“I’m not,” Aragon said, “I came to watch. We all did. Jane’s up in the stands with the others already.” She paused to glance at Blazer, who was fretting anxiously in his stall. “Now...about your pair here.”

“I know what it looks like, Catherine.” Bessie quickly said, “They don’t look like much. It probably seems like I scraped them both off of the street or something, but they have a light.”

Aragon quirks a brow up.

“You should see them run. They know what they’re doing. I believe in them.”

“I hope so, Elizabeth.” Aragon said, “Your girl is gonna need some support. This is her first race. She’s not going to have many people on her side yet.”

Bessie swallowed hard at that revelation. Most of the stands will be screaming against Joan, not for her. She just hoped the girl and her horse would be able to hold out for the entirety of the race.

—————

Joan is sitting in the jockey room, in a far corner, away from all of the other jockeys. She had already dressed out and was patiently waiting for her race of the day. She was clad in black riding boots, white pants, and a checkered indigo and white jacket. Her safety helmet and whip were beside her on the bench she was sitting on. She already had her long blonde hair done in a braid and then a tight bun so she could tuck it safely out of eyesight when the time came to race.

At first glances, she almost looked like she knew what she was doing.

Okay, that was an exaggeration. She did know what she was doing, she’s been training, but the anxiety of her first race was getting to her. For example, she had woken up that morning mid-panic attack before her eyes even fully opened.

And she knew for a fact jockeys that knew what they were doing wouldn’t have that happen to her.

It didn’t help that everyone else in the room was a man, meaning she was not only the youngest, but also the only girl. Now she really had to prove herself worthy of being equal to her male counterparts.

Hoping to distract herself from her festering anxiety, Joan looked up to watch the big TV up on the far wall, where the hosts of the racing channel talked about the odds and favorites of the next race today. SheBeast was a close second favorite going into the race, next to another horse by the name of Lord of The Flies.

Names Joan didn’t recognize at all continued to pop up on the screen, until, finally...

Joan’s heart dropped right back into the pit it almost crawled out of.

10th- Out-Burn Kamikaze

They were dead last in favorites.

“Would you look at that,” A biting voice cackled from the side. “The runt and her piece of psycho roadkill are last.”

Joan whipped her head around to glare at the owner of the voice- Thomas Cromwell. At his side was a younger man, slightly younger than Cathy.

“At least I don’t abuse my horse.” Joan spit, making herself seem tougher than she actually was.

“Abuse?” Thomas exclaimed. “Don’t spread lies, little girl. You don’t know anything.”

“Well, new jockeys are known to say things to try and weaken their opponents.” Comments the younger man, “They’re stupid enough to think it actually works.”

Joan was just about to leap up and thrash the two of them when someone came into the room to tell the jockeys it was time for them to saddle up. Thomas and his little goon, who Joan would later learn was Thomas Culpeper, another jockey to Henry Tudor, head out for the place where all the horses were being held at the end of the walk. Joan glared at the back of their helmeted heads, considering using her whip on them, but couldn’t find the courage to do so.

They all heard loud voices of the fans as they made their way to the paddocks. As the horses and trainers lined up came into view, each jockey moved towards their respective mount. There, Joan saw Blazer shifting anxiously on his haunches, looking all around as the sounds grew louder and louder. Maria was doing her best to calm the horse.

“Hey,” Maria said, “How are you doing? You look pale, hun.”

“Nervous.” Joan answered honestly, clenching and unclenching her hands. “Really nervous.”

“I can tell.” Maria offered an encouraging smile and then helped the girl get her helmet on. “Remember, let him make his own pace coming out of the gate. Don't push him until the very end. And no whip unless absolutely necessary. Bessie’s orders.”

Joan nodded as she clambered onto her horse’s back. Blazer shifted his weight beneath her, but didn’t throw a fit. In fact, he seemed to settle with the girl mounted on the saddle.

“Have a safe ride," Maria called after them as Joan and Blazer were led out onto the track by an escort. “Good luck!”

Passing that threshold, Joan realized she and her horse were no longer Joan and Blazer.

They were Hurricane and Out-Burn Kamikaze.

(Jockey nicknames were an occasional thing that riders chose, but Anne said the press loved it, and Joan needed all the help she could get to get people to like her, so she went along with it. Thus, Hurricane was born.)

Cheers erupted from the stands as the ten horses in the race were walked out onto the field. Joan had told herself to keep her eyes forward, to stay focused, but she found herself looking all around the track stadium to try and find the only people who would be cheering for her. And she did, along with the Royalling Stones Farm team, who must have came to watch.

Ice cold fear shot through Joan’s veins. Now she really couldn’t mess up or it could ruin Bessie’s image- her image for Catherine, Jane, and their team.

And that was something she really didn’t want to do.

The escorts led the horses up to the starting gate as the announcer spoke loudly to the crowd, introducing the racers. One by one, each horse was walked into the stalls in order. Blazer- no, Out-Burn Kamikaze had no problem getting into his designated spot, number six, but once the door shut behind him loudly with a clank and squeal, that’s when he began to act up.

Out-Burn Kamikaze began nervously neighing and backing up against the gate. Blazer was starting to slip out of his race facade, which isn’t something Joan wanted to happen. Not during their first race.

“Shh, shh,” Joan whispered, leaning down to speak into her horse’s ear. “It’s okay. It’s-” She cut herself off with a yelp as the stallion to her left rammed against the metal grating separating the two of them, startling Out-Burn Kamikaze further.

The clamor was starting to get to Joan, too. The stall was so small and it was so noisy from all the rattling iron and horse cries. She felt like she was suffocating and, without realizing it, she found herself becoming shortened of breath.

“Holy shit, kid, are you alright?” The man to her left, the one with the stallion who hit into her grate (he apologized, at least) asked.

“She’s fine.” Said the man to Joan’s right- Thomas Culpeper. “Let her work herself up. Maybe then she’ll realize this isn’t for her.” He laughed cruelly.

His taunting words registered in Joan’s ringing ears and she grit her teeth, stamping down her panic attack. It just kept bubbling to the surface, so she finally gave up on calming herself and rather turned to her horse.

“Come on, boy,” She half whispered, half wheezed, “Calm down. It’s okay. I’m with you.”

Just when she thought she had Out-Burn Kamikaze settled, an ear piercing ringing sounded from above and the gates flew open.

The horses jetted from their stalls, leaving clouds of dust floating in the air for Out-Burn Kamikaze to totter blindly through.

Joan swore she could hear laughter and mocking whispers amongst the roaring crowd above her. For a split second, she turned her head up to them to stare helplessly, but then she whipped her gaze back down and tugged on the reigns.

“Come on, Blazer!” Joan urged the staggering, crying horse, “Come on! Come on! You can do it, buddy! Come on, you’re my big brave boy, aren’t you?”

Those words seem to get through Out-Burn Kamikaze’s fit because he suddenly reared and charged forward, nearly throwing Joan off in the process. Luckily, the girl held tightly to the reigns and hollered in glee as her mount took off.

“Yes! Yes! Go, Blazer! Go!”

The sound of the hoofbeats was hypnotizing. And it only got more and more hypnotic the closer and closer Joan and Out-Burn Kamikaze inched towards the competition.

The first horse they passed was a deep red color, then a chocolate brown one, then one the shade of bloody mud.

“Easy, Blazer, easy,” Joan said to her horse. “You’re doing great, buddy. Steady on.”

Out-Burn Kamikaze snorted and urged himself forward without his rider’s command. Almost sensing his need to speed up, Joan obliged and finally lifted herself fully off of the saddle, leaning forward and adjusting her weight so it would be at the front. Practically standing up on this sprinting beast’s back made a strong sense of vertigo wash over her, and she thought she might fall off, but Out-Burn Kamikaze’s increasing speed brushed away her worries.

“Run, Blazer, run!” Joan cried into the wind, “Run, boy! Let loose! Go! Go!!”

Joan’s grip may have been tight on the reigns, but Out-Burn Kamikaze was controlling himself. He weaved through two horse almost perfectly, despite them never training with moving obstacles, only the occasional stock-still ones. He knew to angle to the right to avoid getting his legs tangled up in an opponent’s and banked a hard left at the next turn that was so sharp it cut off the rider in front of him.

“You’re doing it, Blaze!” Joan cheered, “You’re doing it!” She laughed, and couldn’t tell if the tears in her eyes were from joy or the wind and dirt flying into her face. Either way, she was ecstatic. She also needed to get goggles.

They both crossed the finish line for the third time, starting the final lap. Joan was still shouting in glee when, suddenly, something slammed into Out-Burn Kamikaze’s side on the last leg of the race, ramming him right against the wall where one side of the stands were situated above. Joan yelped as her shoulder and side were grated painfully against the metal as her horse was pushed further against the structure. She turned to see Culpeper glaring at her from his raging red horse, Hell Comes Handily.

“You’ll learn one way or another, little girl!” Culpeper spat, “This isn’t for you!”

Joan grunted and she heard Out-Burn Kamikaze screech a furious neigh. He whipped his head to the side, baring his teeth and rotating his ears back. His anger was a cold, deep, dark thing that Joan knew about well. He once kicked down a barn door just because he was pet in an area he didn’t want to be pet in. That being said, Joan has taken a lot of time to learn his mannerisms and techniques to calm the beast.

Now was not one of the times to use those.

“You don’t belong here!” Culpeper hissed.

Joan grits her teeth, feeling the scrapes already tearing open on her shoulders thanks to the wall. She looked forward and saw they were about to come to the next turn and cross the finish line. The wall was going to end. Joan smiled.

“What are you grinning at?” Culpeper growled.

“This.”

Joan heaved her body to the side, hitting her helmet against Culpeper’s thigh and causing him to lurch Hell Comes Handily away in surprise. Joan leaned off of the saddle, shifting her weight downwards and aiding Out-Burn Kamikaze in the sharp turn that nearly flung her off of him completely, but she held tightly. Her arms ached as she pulled herself upright again, but the impressed swell of coos and shouts around her gave her strength to get situated again.

“Good job, Blazer!” Joan said, “Good boy! Keep going! Burn, Blaze, burn!”

With a mighty huff, Out-Burn Kamikaze hauled himself forward with a burst of speed. In those final moments of the race, it felt like he was flying, spreading majestic flaming wings and soaring down the finish line.

And soar they did.

When Joan crossed the finish line, she felt like she could breathe again. Even though the race was barely three minutes long, those moments felt like an eternity. But finally it was all over.

She collapsed forward, taking deep breaths as if SHE had did all the running, and hugged around Out-Burn Kamikaze’s furry neck. She buried her face in his mane, laughing.

“We did it, buddy! YOU did it!”

Slowly, the horse came to a halt and Joan sat up, finally taking in the full view of the stands from down on the track. She laughed again, a wide smile stretching across her features. Sure, the people probably weren’t cheering for her, the fourth place winner, but it still felt good to hear.

“They’re going to be cheering for you one day, bud,” Joan told Blazer, who was coming down from the high of running as Out-Burn Kamikaze. “We’re going to be their champions.”

A sudden swarm of reporters and cameras then caught Joan’s attention. She turned to them, realizing they were coming towards HER.

“What did it feel like to be pinned against the wall by one of the best rider’s in England?”

“How did it feel to beat that rider?”

“How long have you been training this horse?”

“Were you scared when Out-Burn Kamikaze wouldn’t run at first?”

“Why didn’t he run at the beginning?”

“What exactly did you do on that final turn?!”

Joan, who was slightly overwhelmed by all the attention, did her best to answer all the questions. She made sure to be polite and used her manners when speaking to the reporters- everything she saw counted. Plus, they had several cameras trained on her. She had to choose her words wisely.

“Joan!”

“Maria! Bessie!”

Joan slid off of Blazer’s back right into the arms of Bessie and Maria, who held her tightly.

“Oh, sweetheart, you did wonderful!” Maria exclaimed. “You were so amazing out there!”

“Maria cried.” Bessie snickered. She cups Joan’s cheeks as her roommate blubbered about that being a lie. “You’re not the only one, though, Mars.”

Joan sniffled a little, laughing as Bessie brushed away a half-dried tear streak trailing down her face.

“It was just- it was unbelievable.” Joan whispered. “I couldn’t help myself.”

“I know,” Bessie said, smiling. “I’m so proud of you, darling.”

Joan grinned. She glanced over Bessie’s shoulder to see Jane and her team walking over.

“Wow.” Catherine said. “Just- wow.”

“You were amazing!” Anne declared.

“Yeah, when Culpeper had you pinned against that wall, I didn’t think you were gonna get out of it.” Anna admitted. “But you did! You really proved me wrong. You are something else, Joan.”

A dark pink blush appeared on Joan’s cheeks and she fiddled with her helmet calls sheepishly. She obviously wasn’t ready for this amount of praise.

“Thanks.” She said shyly.

From behind her, Blazer was starting to act up, so she quickly turned to him.

“Is he gonna have another fit?” Katherine asked.

“No,” Joan said, watching the way her horse bounced on his front legs and bobbed his head up and down. She smiled brightly. “I think he knows he won.”

#cowgirl au #six the musical fanfic #six the musical fanfiction #six the musical #six ff #six fanfiction #six fic #joan on the keys #bessie on the bass #maria on the drums #catherine of aragon #jane seymour #anne boleyn #anna of cleves #katherine howard #thomas culpeper

[galadrieljones]

2019 Writer’s Year in Review

tagged by @pikapeppa. thank you!! I always enjoy this exercise ^_^

Word count: 

The Lily Farm - 163,580

That he may hold me by the hand - 29,146

Original fiction - 14,780

Total - 207,506

Number of smut scenes: I don’t really keep track? Probably a dozen or so. It is definitely true that I don’t write as much smut for Arthur as I did for Solas. My writing style has chilled out in that sense. I still write sex scenes for sure, but full blown smut is pretty rare for me. For Solas, sex was kind of like a theme. I went to it all the time to develop his character. For Arthur, it does not serve the same thematic function. 

New things I tried this year: Using more tropes, like good old fashioned bed-sharing, fake relationships, etc. They work really well for my Arthur pairings, and I think it’s helped my plot writing a lot. 

Also, this year I have been working consistently on a fic for a mlm pairing, Arthur x Albert (That he may hold me by the hand) I have never written a fullblown love story between two men before, only as a secondary-ship, so this is a first for me. I was nervous, but I did a lot of research in preparation, and I have learned a lot about the history of male sexuality and its various forms and perceptions in pioneer times and the late nineteenth century. It’s really been one of my favorite projects to date, and definitely the most straight up romantic love story I’ve ever written.  

Favorite thing I wrote this year: I like all the stories I wrote this year. The Lily Farm has become a romantic but humorous fix-it with a big plot, as I’m literally rewriting the end of the game. I love everything I’ve gotten to do with Mary Beth’s character, and it’s given me the chance to just make her into a true heroine. Yours, Sadie Adler was a sad endeavor, and I cried while writing it, but it was a plotting challenge for me, and I am proud of what it became. That he may hold is a sort of smaller scope love story for me, but I love this about it best of all. I love Arthur and Albert and I always had a soft spot for the Arcadia for Amateurs mission, because it shows Arthur at his most charming and quintessentially chivalrous. 

I also love the original stuff I’ve written and the story I’ve started to build. It’s a return to roots for me and exploration of a place and a family of characters that are all like people I grew up with. It’s not really a story I’ve told before, so I’m excited about that.

Favorite fic I read this year: I haven’t read nearly enough fics this year, but a few memorable experiences include

Temporal Arrangements by @thevikingwoman (A time travel AU for Solas and Iwyn Lavellan--clever in its plot and very emotional, a good redemption arc for Solas, and Iwyn is a most classic and stoic Lavellan who I love dearly. Neat Arlathan aesthetics.)

safe and sound by @cosmiclattes (A super good take on what could have happened with Arthur and Eliza all those years ago. Sad, beautiful details, will murder you.)

how to be a lion when you were born a wolf by @cosmiclattes (A beautiful alternate ending to the game. I won’t give anything else away, but read it!!)

Up on the Homestead (a series) by CedarTheBarefoot (Arthur/John. A smutty tale of country living and a quiet romance. Arthur and John are both very in-character here and it’s kind of like this renewed sense of pastoral innocence but its edges are not sanded down. Good realism and process-writing. Awesome smut. It is good to see them safe.)

Of Sons and Daughters by writehavoc (A sweet, romantic story in which Arthur accidentally falls in love with Dutch’s daughter. Emmeline is a very innocent OC who has been deeply sheltered and is now kind of working toward her own sense of independence. Very good chivalrous but conflicted Arthur. One of the coolest premises I’ve seen.)

Writing goals for 2020: To finish both The Lily Farm and That he may hold, and then to focus most of my energies on my original stuff for a while. I would like to finish a book. I am hoping 2020 is the year!! Or, well, I’m gonna work for it lol. (I will still be here, of course...hyperfixations will always call. lol)

tags for @thevikingwoman @bearly-tolerable @cosmiclattes @ladylike-foxes @squidproquoclarice @starsandskies @ma-sulevin @idrelle-miocovani @a-shakespearean-in-paris and anyone else who would like to do this. please tag me if you do!! ^_^

#on writing #year in review

[werewolfsquadron]

I love Last Years Antlers so much it’s basically canon to me now... anyways would you ever consider doing a fic about Abigails pregnancy with Bess and Arthur and John taking care of her throughout it and maybe the birth of Bess? I think it would be very cute

aw man, thank you for saying so! I don’t think I have a firm enough idea in my head of what I’d want that to look like to write a full fic about Abigail’s pregnancy and John and Arthur’s related care for her, but, under the cut, some ideas of moments for you:

Arthur at first takes a backseat to any pregnancy related stuff, not out of not wanting to help Abigail out, but because he’s worried about it not being his place. It’s a lot of just sort of taking on more and more work around the farm and in the house so that Abigail can rest and John can help her and hoping no one will notice. Eventually Abigail calls him out on it and pretty much forces him to help her figure out the crib situation. 

Uncle brings home a shipment of cloth. None of them knows where he got it, he insists he bought it, and all of them are convinced he stole it. When it’s clear that they’re never going to find out the answer, they decide they might as well use it, and Abigail teaches John and Arthur how to make baby clothes. Arthur gets the hang of it pretty quickly, but John’s attempts are uhhhhh rough. Arthur makes fun of him mercilessly. 

Abigail keeps working around the farm up to and including when she goes into labor, by her insistence. This causes John a great deal of distress (in some ways, understandable, seeing as dying in childbirth wasn’t exactly an uncommon thing at that time and even John’s mom went that way, but he definitely is overreacting to a point). Abigail insists that the ranch would not function if she took a week off and, honestly, she’s probably right. John still insists on rubbing her feet at night when they’re swollen.

Back when Jack was born, Arthur and John were kept away when Abigail was in labor along with most of the men in camp, since there were plenty of people around to help without them getting in the way. This time they’re recruited into helping the midwife, partially because she needs willing hands and partially to keep them from having anxious meltdowns, something John is definitely approaching. The midwife is distinctly reminiscent of Susan Grimshaw, which Abigail actually finds comforting in this particular situation.

Arthur cries when he holds Bess for the first time. John cries stress tears off and on throughout the whole labor process. Abigail is the only one keeping this family together. 

On that note, I think Arthur initially doesn’t expect to hold Bess right after she’s born, going back to his sort of insecurity about his place in the family. John essentially shoves Bess (but gently, bc she’s less than an hour old) into Arthur’s arms, and she blinks up at him and Arthur just absolutely melts. Even as exhausted as Abigail is, there’s some sort of group hug, baby cuddled between them, probably on the bed Abigail’s resting up in. 

Jack is delighted by the idea of a sister, but once he sees her in person and realizes newborns are essentially fragile, wrinkly little monsters, he’s less enthused. He warms up to her once he realizes she keeps his parents so sleep deprived that he can get away with almost anything and they won’t notice (see: reading when he should be doing chores. I’d imagine this is when Jack’s love of reading is really blossoming. 

Sometimes Jack also reads her stories at night, even when she’s too young to understand them. She likes the sound of his voice. He’s a good big brother. 

As Bess gets older and goes through some fussy/colicky moments, Arthur is the only one who can consistently rock her to sleep. He can get her from a full meltdown to asleep in ten minutes, something even Abigail can’t do without the help of food. 

John once caught Arthur singing to her when Arthur thought no one else was around. Now he’ll wait just out of sight when Arthur’s alone with her in hopes he’ll hear it again. Arthur often knows he’s there after the first time but will sing to Bess anyway because he knows John likes to hear it.

I may still write this sometime, but, in the meantime, anyone should feel free to expand on/use these in any way, bc I don’t mind. 

and then, since the idea of Bess existing in the first place was sparked by the fact that John and Abigail had a daughter that died in canon, likely as an infant during the four years between the RDR2 epilogue and RDR1, it’s worth saying again: this is a happy AU. Bess lives a long and happy life, and there’s nothing you can say to change my mind. I am not letting John and Abigail feel that loss, let alone taking another child away from Arthur. 

anyway, thanks anon! I very much appreciated the opportunity to think about this more/make notes on it. :)

#anon #rdr2 #but at least the war is over #fic stuff #there's so much I know in my head about this au that I just haven't talked about yet #it's wild having a world like this #anyway I'm sad I felt like I didn't have the capacity to write a full fic at this time #but I hope this suffices for you anon! #Bess grows up very loved

[verai-marcel]

The Man Next Door (RDR2 Fanfic, 18+, Part 1)

Summary: You are Arthur's next door neighbor in a small apartment building. He's a pretty good neighbor: he’ll pick up your mail while you're gone on business and occasionally brings you some extra food he's roasted. In return, you watch his kid when he has to work late. On one of those late nights, he asks you a question that takes you by surprise.

Author’s Notes: So there’s two versions of this. Side A is high honor Arthur. Side B is low honor Arthur. So the tags might be a bit confusing, I guess. Also I wrote this as a post-college aged reader, but it should work for a range of ages though. I was imagining a reader around Arthur’s age, but you imagine it however you like.

Tags: fluff, modern AU

Side A - High Honor Tags: fluff, romance, oral sex, missionary, smut with feelings

Side B - Low Honor Tags: paid sex, blow jobs, deepthroating, dirty talk, rough sex

WC: 1035

Find it on AO3 here.

Beginnings

It was about 3PM when you got a call from your neighbor.

“Hey Arthur, what’s up? Need me to watch Isaac again?”

You heard his deep sigh. “Yeah, I’m sorry I’m always askin’ you.”

“Don’t worry about it, you always give me a fair rate, and I like Isaac.”

“Thanks, darlin’.”

“Anytime.”

You ended the call and smiled to yourself. You loved it when his drawl came out and he called you ‘darlin’. It was a little off-putting at first when you had met him a year ago as he was moving into the apartment next door. You had thought he had those cowboy vibes, which you found out later was pretty close to reality; he grew up in the midwest on a farm, until he moved here with his fiancée, Mary, who left him for a hedge fund manager about a year ago. The kid happened by accident with a previous girlfriend, Eliza. They were still friends, but they knew they had different ideas for their lives, so they split their time with Isaac, and Arthur had the kid for one week every month. But while Isaac was around, you noted that Arthur was happier, kinder, and softer than he was during the rest of the month. You could tell that he loved being a dad, and when Isaac was back with his mother, Arthur seemed a bit lonely.

You had learned much more about him over the past year. He was a mechanic, working at a nearby shop, but he often worked late. You didn’t know why his boss wouldn’t have someone else pick up the slack, but Arthur would always mumble something about doing the job right and not making anyone else stay late. You admired that work ethic and that dedication to his company, but you wondered if people were taking advantage of him.

As you two had gotten to know each other, you discovered he shared your penchant for watching horror movies late at night, stuffing your faces full of tater tots when the option was available, and drawing random things that piqued your interest. Short greetings on your shared balcony became deep conversations late into the night, and as the two of you became closer, you realized a couple weeks ago that you had fallen for your cowboy neighbor.

Of course, you didn’t think anything would come of your crush. Dating a neighbor was bad, because if things went south, you still lived next to him; you would still see him almost everyday. And he hadn’t shown any specific affection towards you.

But the occasional brush of his hand against your arm, or when he lightly touched the small of your back as he let you go up the stairs first, always made your heart beat a little faster.

You saved your files and packed up your laptop; you were lucky enough to work from home on Thursdays and Fridays, given that you could do your job from anywhere, once you had your directions. Your boss would call you occasionally, but for the most part, you were free to just reply to emails and respond to helpdesk tickets at your leisure, as long as you logged in your 8 hours of work.

Carrying your laptop bag, you left your apartment and went to Arthur’s, opening it up with the spare key he had given you. It was a relatively clean but sparse space; Isaac’s toys in one corner with his little play table and chair being the only brightly colorful things anywhere. Arthur’s furniture was worn and had chips in the wood here and there, but the overall aesthetic reflected a natural, rustic style that you appreciated. No paisley here, just simple blacks, browns, and dark reds in all of his furnishings.

You set yourself down on the couch and pulled out your laptop, just as the door opened. A child’s voice called out your name, and you smiled. Isaac came bursting in and leapt on the couch, giving you a big hug.

“Hi there, big guy! You’re getting quite tall,” you said to him, poking his nose playfully.

“Daddy says I’m gonna be as tall as a giraffe one day!” he said excitedly.

“I’m not sure about a giraffe, but you’ll be close,” you replied with a grin as you patted him on the head. He ran off to put his little backpack down near his table and started playing with his toys.

“I can’t tell ya how much I appreciate this,” Arthur said as he stepped into your view. His eyes glanced down at what you were wearing for a split second before coming to rest on your face. You had on your lounge shorts and a spaghetti strap top, the kind of top that had a built-in bra, but it was thin enough that your nipples were a little visible. It was summer and you hated running the AC in your apartment if you could help it; money was tight, and you were still paying off your college loan, even after all this time. In your haste to help out Arthur, you had forgotten to change. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen you milling around on the balcony in shorts and tank top before, watering your plants. But actually being in his apartment with this little clothing on seemed… inappropriate.

Arthur stayed silent for a moment before finally saying, “I’ll be back around 8.”

“So see you at 9, then,” you said in a jesting tone, hoping he’d get over your state of dress.

He smiled at you wryly. “Yeah, probably.” Then he turned to Isaac. “You gonna behave, son?”

“Of course!”

“Good. See you later,” he said to both of you as he went back to work.

You left your laptop on the couch and decided to play with Isaac. It was much more fun than working the last two hours of your day. Besides, you could work after you put Isaac to bed for the night.

***

When 9PM rolled around, you stretched your legs and put your laptop away. After dinner and getting Isaac to sleep around 7PM, you had gotten all your work done, and with it being Friday night, you could relax. You didn’t have any plans for tonight anyway; all your friends were busy with their own work or their significant others. Sighing, you lay back on the couch and pulled out your phone to read.

The door finally opened at 9:30PM.

End Notes: The next two versions are coming very soon!

Part 2A: High Honor | Part 2B: Low Honor

#rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #arthur x reader #nsft #lemon fanfic #fanfic #writing #smutty fanfic #neighbor AU #modern AU

[sharp-teeth-and-archived]

notsoinnocentlittleangel asked : What kind of ending (post-RDR2) do you envision for Sean, assuming...well, you know...didn't happen?

Random asks / @notsoinnocentlittleangel​​ -- always accepting

                    I have talked about it before, my idea of Sean of him in the epilogue, if he didn’t die in Rhodes. I even have a verse written up for him there, but I’m always down to talk about it!

                    In my main verse, I usually intend for it for Sean to be alive, that he didn’t die in chapter three. It just makes things easier, but I do have a still alive au tag. But I do mention his death, because even though I do stray from canon-- I can’t ignore it when writing Sean. I get why he died, but I really wish he lived longer and had more missions. The others’ deaths too, I’m still not over them.

But anyway ! Onto the question!

                    I feel like I have to mention Sean in chapter six, as I feel like it’s important for his post rdr2 au.

CHAPTER SIX

                    In chapter six, I’m not sure if Sean would find a partner at this point ( or be more serious with Karen, but I have a feeling maybe not? At least not in my au anyway ). I’m not sure how long the two would’ve lasted together, but that’s another story. But he would definitely be affected by the downfall of the gang. he would no doubt take Arthur’s side and stick by him until the end. I feel like Arthur would persuade Sean to get out of this life as fast as he can, try to get him to leave earlier. But he would go against it, wanting to be around Arthur. He saw him as a role model and he was going to fight for him and help him through his TB. He wasn’t going to just leave him behind, it wouldn’t feel right to him.

                    I feel like Sean would definitely have said something to Micah, maybe attack him. It wouldn’t make Sean look good, but he would have enough of his ways and Micah probably would pick on Sean a lot. He wouldn’t approach Dutch as much, but not withholding his opinions when Dutch would ask him and do the whole “have faith” speech and with losing loyalty. Even though Sean never liked molly, he wouldn’t feel good about her death. He wouldn’t yell at Grimshaw for it like Karen did, but if Arthur asked him, he would express his opinion: ❝ It’s a mess, Arthur, all of this. ❞ The downfall would weigh heavily on him. He would try o be optimistic, crack jokes, bring some light into the camp, but Sean would be quieter. Probably drink more. There just would be a different atmosphere around Sean, anyone could see that he was affected. I think he would stand up to Dutch when he left John behind and when he left Arthur to die. He could give less of a shit then.

                    I have to mention that with the bank & train robberies after chapter three, I imagine Sean was in those. Probably went to Garuma with them too.

IN THE EPILOUGE

                    After chapter six, finally answering the question, Sean would still be a thief for a while to get on his feet. If he hasn’t met someone yet, this would be the time Sean would settle down. Find someone a few years or maybe even a year after. He would still keep in contact with everyone else. He wouldn’t be able to write them letters, but he probably comes across them like John did. Meet at a train station, in Saint Denis, at a bar, etc. But during those few years after 1899, Sean would be completely off the map. There wouldn’t be too much exposure, even though he is thieving throughout this period. Mary-Beth and the others probably wouldn’t know where he went and what he was doing.

                    After meeting the person he wants to settle down with, Sean would likely want to start a family, settle down for once. Maybe his child wasn’t planned, and through that -- Sean got more mature. I’d imagine throughout the later chapters of the game, he became more like Arthur and matured more. Of course, he is still his energetic, chaotic good, self, but he’s more careful and giving. Having a child would just be the last push. He would find that it would be better to live a lawful life. Being with the gang, he saw that Pinkertons weren’t something to screw with. He had to be more careful. He was able to secure himself a job, some hard labor job or maybe even get a job as a cashier at a general store. Just something that wasn’t committing crimes. He couldn’t avoid the life of crime for long though, he still had tendencies. When money got tight, Sean had to steal.

                    This goes into the epilogue stage, Sena is still working at a job, has a family. He tries not to get his children into a life of crime. He wants his children to live a different childhood than him. He would bring them to school, make sure they attend. He just wants a better life for them, be given opportunities Sean never got. He would be a supportive dad for sure.

                    In the epilogue, Sean would team up with Sadie and John. I don’t think he would do the bounties that they did, he’s still anxious around bounty hunters and is still affected by his time with them in Blackwater. He would join John with getting back Uncle from the skinners, that’s where his line crosses. But he would help John with his house, tracking down Micah and his gang. He would join in taking down Micah, saying how he wants to avenge Arthur. He gets would get drunk at John’s wedding though.

                    I can also see a verse where Sean doesn’t have a family of his own, but I always kind of thought Sean would. It’s always what I imagined in my mind. He would tell his children about Arthur, stories of his dad, the gang. He would name ( be used as a middle name ) his son Arthur, a nod to his role model. Sean would visit Arthur’s gang yearly. In the few years after his death, Sean would visit every camp location. He would still travel to them years later. He would cry on the day Arthur died, on Arthur’s birthday, even when John died.

IN 1911 ( RDR1 ) & BEYOND

                   In a happier verse, Sean ends up having a pretty moderate income. he wouldn’t be rich or anything, but he’d have a steady flow. His children would have good jobs and have an encouraging father who does anything he can to make their childhoods a good one. In 1911, his children would likely be around eight-years-old or younger. I’d imagine they were born in the early 1900′s. His daughter would grow up to be a teacher and be an advocate for women’s voting rights. His son would grow up to be a banker or doctor. Sean would have a healthy relationship with his partner and have a happy family. They would be out of the city and live in the countryside, with a pretty good-sized house, similar to John’s.

                   In a sadder alternative: They still don’t have a good income. Even though Sean is the only one working, his partner being a stay at home parent, in both verses, he’s pay wouldn’t be good. He would have to go back to the field he’s skilled at since childhood -- robbing. He’s target whatever stagecoach he can find, even rob from people riding out on their hoses. Steal horses from farms and sell them, fence items. From living this lifestyle, Sean would be shot and killed by an angry man. He hunted him down, finding out who exactly was the person stealing his horses, and Sean would be gunned down. His family would have a worse financial situation, be forced to move back into the city. His children likely wouldn’t get the jobs they would have in the “happy ending” verse.

#asks #notsoinnocentlittleangel #//long post #( sorry this got super long ) #( 𝑨 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒕𝒊𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅 𝒉𝒊𝒎 ; headcanon (( Sean )) #( 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌? ; asks (( Sean )) #( We're not who we used to be ; epilogue au (( Sean )) #//rdr2 spoilers