#..... it was a mistake as well that we did not stick to horseback riding in highschool. no. instead we listened to people and parents and

[julieloves074]

Out of the Darkness pt.3 (Darkling x reader story)

Lets just ignore that English is not my first language :)

“Would you rather wear my black colour instead?” his question sounding genuine but a trap all the same, he didn’t move, waiting for my answer, two could play this game.

“Have I made you speechless?” he asked. So simply.

“Well that would just be improper General,” I said taking the red kefta out of his hand with force, he latches onto it for a moment so that I can’t take it out of his hgrips, “I don’t know what I would do to thank you,” I added, with a gaze of admiration, still pulling away from the idea of battering my eyelashes, that would be too obvious, he would see right through me.

Though, his kefta did look warmer, maybe this was his autumn wear, either way, I would never wear his colours, or any colours if I could help it.

“They’re bullet proof, after transporting the sun summoner who knows when one may attack us again,” he commented, and waited until the red clothing was secured around my limbs and body before walking towards two of his soldiers, one was holding the rein of the horse behind them. A midnight black stallion, clearly pure breed.

I huffed as I brought the material forward in one rough pull, fixing the collar while I’m at it. He doesn’t looked back to me, until his body is secure on his horse.

“I will ride on horseback, and you shall be in my carriage, with two of my trusted guards,” he said turning back to me for one moment, his brave commanding voice didn’t quiver now that other first and second army eyes were us and our exchange, him mostly, but some eager eyes didn’t shy away from peeling at me, the new Grisha, that so happened to appear during the night, giving me the benefit of a doubt.

I turned back towards the carriage, looking both ways, past the stares, how else could I get away?

Only to get my arms in not so friendly hold of the guards, who somewhat forcefully push me into the carriage. The space is small, confined, the window quickly becomes a good friend of mine. With nowhere else to look the views outside are quite lovely. Forests and greenery, not much different to where I came from, but still something new.

As we dove deeper into the forest I turned to my new favourite, hated game called stop every mistake you made when you were taken into that tent. I focused on every single little detail that went wrong, I could have forced myself to say on the floor, I knew the mattress and duvet, and the fluffy blanket would lure me away in a deep world of sleep.

I did need it, but I wish I could have prevented it. Made up a plan or even just a lie.

Instead, here I am, sitting across from two soldiers in their black unfirmos, neither of them Grisha, meaning that his most trsuted Grisha were at the Little Palace with Alina, protecting and watching her, bearing in mind that the walls could protect her enough; she really seems like a bird trapped in a cage.

This is good, better than good, excellent, now I can just maybe tip the carriage, not burn it that would be a waste, but maybe just make it seem like an accident, best done during the night, slipping away unnoticed. Really uncontacted this time. I would leave the red kefta on the floor, make sure it gets in the flames, it would burn like the fire itself.

But then he’d suspect me: an inferni. I sighed but the guards weren’t really paying that much attention to me anyway. They sat their bodies square to me looking straight ahead, this is probably the only time they’ve ever been allowed to sit inside this carriage.

Instead I could slow their hearts, he wouldn’t blame it on me, he couldn’t, in his black glossy eyes I am only an inferni after all. Why would he need another inferni anyway, surely he had plenty at the palace? Unless he was really low on fire.

At the sow descend of the shadows, as the sun started to cower down I urged myself forward, my eyelids seemed awfully heavy, unlike their usually feathery float, I hoped the two men didn’t realise, I wanted to get this over with.

But they too shuffled forwards in their seats, hands on their knees. Still staring forwards, almost like gargoyles on old, gloomy caste roofs.

I’m not their prisoner, or his, or so he said. So why would they give such a care? My eyes widened, without turning to me, one of each hand goes to my wrists, entrapping me again in their will. I couldn’t slow their hearts.

“Let go of me! You have no right to me!” I screamed instead, though they did nothing more than hold onto my arms, urging me to stay in one space, to make sure I wasn’t trying to pull any tricks out of the bag.

How’d I create myself such a reputation so quickly?

In a sudden burst the carriage stopped, I couldn’t hear anything or anyone outside, as if the world had stopped, the guards faces turned alarmed, their eyes gazed around, their other arms ready to grip their weapons. Taking the initiative I shuffled backwards, pleading my hands to follow, they stayed in their grips.

Then there was a shuffle outside, footsteps, the guards didn’t even get a chance to shuffle back themselves, or grab their weapons before the door flung open, as if the wind attacked it, harshly beckoning it to open up.

Their hands rip away ferociously, so I rushed mine to wrap them around my knees in a protective position, not weak, but self-protective. Never weak. Edging away from them I painted the situation in exactly the right shades and colours.

“We’re making a stop for a few hours, then the girl rides with me,” he said sternly to the two men, giving them the look of what I would call a waring, they wouldn’t dare lay a hand on me, not when the General could make them pay for it greedily.

The two men looked to each other’s; fear blemished out of their pupils which turned smaller by every second of his stare.

I had my way, I was out of the carriage for the remainder of the journey.

He reached his gloved hand my way, I looked at his hand, then back into his eyes and then to his hand again. The other rested in the doorway of the transport, even in such a lousy position he stood taller and more proper than any man.

“Y/n?” he said, I took a breath, letting my eyes creep to the two guards again before finally accepting the General’s hand out of my seat.

The chilly air hit, like jumping into freezing water all at once. In front of me I saw what looked like an old barn, there was already movement inside, with the way the darkling’s face stayed stoic, calm I could tell that they were out people. His people.

As we were leaving the camp I wasn’t sure how many of us were travelling, it was mostly just soldiers, only two of us, the Grisha.

Landing both my feet steadily on the ground, he let go of my hand, it seemed as though he intend to glide it to my arm or lower back to guide me in but I was already ahead of him, moving towards the entrance of the barn.

Some men and women were already sitting around some sticks, the General looked to me when we sat down. This was my cue to start a fire, could it have been part of a test? Some kind of trial to see if I can even control my power.

Like a baby latching onto their parents I lit a fire in my palm, hearing it crinkle, everything else is quiet, I revel in silence, in the dark when I can pretend there is no one but I in the world. The crinkle of self awareness in a way calms me.

I throw my arms towards the wood, which then too starts to roar in flames, and suddenly nothing seems personal, I feel exposed, but open my eyes and shake off the feeling. It’s just lighting a fire, I remind myself.

Standing there for a moment I stare into the raw beaty of the red and orange dancers, the mild wind too joins in with the solstice. I avoid his stare but he finds a way to make me turn his way, he calls me over with the very movement of his body, I chose not to resist, to get any more conversation out of the way.

Most would kill to be this close to the General, and some would kill to never within a couple of miles of him ever again. I fit nowhere in that scale, which makes it even worse, he doesn’t matter to me, he doesn’t fit anywhere into my life, or my outlooks.

“Did you never want to be with the rest of us?” he asks, the concentration of pressure of the us. He didn’t sound offended or insulted by the fact that I didn’t try to find a way to be with the Grisha. He seemed genuinely confused. Like it were unusual for people with these abilities to shy away from that life.

“You could have been living with the services and care you deserve,” he continues, his voice dark in a way I wasn’t sure was possible. Many described the fold as darkness but a place, they weren’t exactly wrong, but the General’s voice was darkness if it vibrated though words.

What did he know what I deserved? It being clear he thought everyone with these skills should have everything, at least a little less than him.

“I was a run away. Never wanted anywhere, never welcome anywhere. Grisha or not I learned to live a new way, and I like living that way,” I said and it was partially true, learning a new way to live was no easy feat but the freedom was like running around a sandy beach with wind in your hair and the smell of the salty sea.

“Well, you needn’t worry about that, your wanted at Little Palace with others like you, you’re welcome there, it shall be your home,” his voice was slightly gentler, or maybe it was the new hushed tone, as if this was our secret, one that no one can know.

With that he leaped gracefully onto his feet and walked other to his soldiers, solid in his stance but passionate in his words. Just hearing him from here talking about how much he wants to help the people on both sides. For closer up he wasn’t as dark as some might have imagined.

I ended up falling asleep, the kefta was good for that remark, it wasn’t like I had anything better to do, he chose not to sleep, he just sat there, some guards napped and took turns but the General didn’t wink an eye.

We never made eye contact, I couldn’t read his face, and then again like a weak child I drifted to sleep.

For a second night in a row there was no nightmare, and there was always nightmares, they would crawl at me, in every single corner of my head and brain, until I would scream and awaken to sweating and the cold hard ground.

From then on I only allowed myself to sleep a few, a couple of hours.

It’s like my system forgot to be aware, alert.

I woke at the General telling the soldiers to get up and ready to leave, I assume he was coming to wake me up next with his loud words of a calm demeanour but I got to my feet with the left over soldiers, already turning to make my way out of the barn.

Still I had to wait next to where the horses stood because now I would ride with the General, on a horse next to him more specifically, I would escape or else I will be killed.

Once everything else is installed in its places he comes over, only his black stallion in sigh, he meant literally ride with him, now I was starting to have slight regrets. The carriage might have been a better idea.

Without a word he got on then his head turned to me and his hand followed, I rose an eyebrow but the mystic glare of his eyes and tension between his brows put me on edge.

His arms wrapped around me as he reached for the rein and then we were off, the speed felt more real here, faster, for one it might have been the fact that we were gradually losing the carriage behind us.

After getting onto the plainer field there was only us and no on else in sight. It was a quiet journey, one of which the inner of my thighs were burning, I’d never been on a horse before, family was too poor, and I never had a job.

I didn’t dare complain, his heart didn’t show a shudder of anything, but mine was much quicker, whether it was from the thrill of riding a horse or from having the black General so close to mine I would never know?

His arm hovered too closely to mine for a moment and that pass of surety surged through me, it was weird how simply he could make me feel so weak, but so powerful at once, he could make me lose control, that would end in disaster.

“Are you alright?” he asked, though with my whole body screaming for more power to rush into my palm his voice was a whisper. The words echoed around my ear, his lips so close to my ears.

I took in a low breath.

“I’m fine,” I said but he didn’t move from the close position, “Thank you,” I added and like a calling he moved his head back and I felt weak, everywhere.

How was I supposed to get away now?

Part four

#darkling x reader #darkling #darkling smut #general #general x reader #general kirigan #general kirigan x reader #kirigan #kirigan x reader #alexander morozova #alexander x reader #general smut #kirigan smut #shadow and bone #seige and storm #grishaverse #the grisha trilogy #the grisha series #alina starvok #mal oretsev #power #love #frienship #love and hate #enemies to lovers #sum summoner #ravka #grisha netflix #shadow summoner #inerni

[tiredcowpoke]

TITLE: Blank Spots [12] PAIRING: (Somewhat pre-established) Arthur Morgan/Fem!Reader, could be seen as an OC. REQUEST: Unprompted. BLURB: After waking up at the base of a steep incline and nearly freezing to death, you stumble upon a group of strangers who swear up and down that they know you. WARNINGS: Some creative license for amnesia, light angst? NOTE: Here’s the twelfth chapter of this. I hope the pacing is alright near the end, I struggled a bit but hopefully it’s good! TAG LIST: @on-my-way-to-erebor / @otherthingstoreid @ireallyhonestlydontcare @elanisha @darlingsdevil @cirillamylove @bunnyreese12 @rollyjogerjones @callmemythicalminx @r4reland

“Well, turns out I was right. We got more places to visit.” 

He hadn’t been gone more than a minute after you had watched him lower himself down onto the ledge, disappearing around the side of it to go find whatever was hidden on the side of it. You still felt shaky on your feet, hands shaking a bit but you were glad that Arthur brought with him a quick distraction. Arthur pulled himself back into the surface of the cliff, holding a worn piece of paper with some jewelry wrapped around his fingers. Letting curiosity try to drown out the tight feeling in your chest, you stepped closer to him as he opened up the map. 

Looking upon the drawing there, the location didn’t stick out to you at all. It appeared to be pointing toward three structures, some sort of water source in the middle. It didn’t appear to be on top of a cliff again, thankfully. 

“I know this place, too,” Arthur remarked after a moment, looking at the drawing again before nodding his head, “Ain’t too far, but it’s still a trek. Probably would have to make a day of it.” 

“How much of this have you explored?” you asked, some amusement sitting in your tone despite that. You knew Arthur was gone from camp a lot, you just assumed it was mostly on jobs for the gang. 

Though, you supposed doing things like this was still working for the gang, considering at least your earnings from this would be going back into their pockets. 

“Not too much,” he replied, shrugging, “Still haven’t been able to see what I make of the new camp.” 

“Still better than me,” you said, stepping back as Arthur tucked the map into his satchel. 

“You wanna go find this second piece?” he asked, causing you to shrug. Noncommittal in nature, but really you were more than willing to keep away from camp for a bit. 

“Sure, it’s not like I have anything pressing to do back there as of yet. Though, if you need to turn back around then I’ll follow. You’re the one with the direction out here anyway, it seems.” 

“I can afford a day for this, I guess,” Arthur replied, shifting to walk back toward the edge you both had climbed up from, “Ain’t got anythin’ pressin’ either. Though, I imagine Dutch’ll find somethin’ soon enough.”

“You still got to get that Micah back to camp?” you asked, causing him to cast you a curious glance. In the moment, you couldn’t help but wonder how much he remembered sharing a couple nights ago after he had leaned into the bottle a bit. 

“Been tryin’ to ignore that for as long as I’m able, but yeah…” he replied around a small sigh, pausing to slip off a small drop. He stopped in walking for a moment, watching as you did the same with a small grunt. Really, you were relieved to be on even ground again, trying to shake off the lingering effects of that memory. 

You accepted that answer from him, deciding not to pry too much into that situation as Arthur pulled himself back up onto his horse. Getting onto your own, you followed after him as you tried to let that odd moment from before slip from your focus. You weren’t too sure if that was confirmation that you had fallen or if that was your anxiety about what happened showing itself again. What about that gunshot, though? You were pretty sure that was in your head. Though, you didn’t have the time to wander down that path or shove it from your mind, it seemed. 

“You okay from what happened up there?” Arthur asked after a few minutes of relatively silent riding, causing you to bite the side of your cheek as you glanced off toward the passing trees for a moment. 

“I just made the mistake of looking down, got scared.” 

“Seemed a little more than just that,” he continued, glancing back toward you over his shoulder somewhat, “Looked like for a moment there you was workin’ up to punch me.” 

Ah, shit. Right. Really, that whole thing felt like you weren’t in control, just acting on the first instinct that crossed your mind. You just felt the hand around your arm and turned around without much thought. 

“...I’m sorry,” you said around a sigh, “I wasn’t really thinking. I remembered myself falling and I just reacted. I was panicking, I guess.” 

“I understand,” Arthur said, waving a hand slightly, “That been happenin’ a lot?”

“Not really, no,” you said, shrugging, “Most of the time things just seem familiar, they usually don’t happen like that. Must have just been the height.” 

You saw Arthur nod his head lightly, seeming to accept the situation at that. Really, you were kind of relieved that he was leaving it be, and really you wanted to move on from it. That embarrassment still burned somewhat in your gut, much as you knew that it shouldn’t. You were just tired of feeling scared and confused about everything, the newness of the situation had been stepping off somewhat. 

Really, with knowing that your remaining family wouldn’t be accepting you back into their lives after that whole debiting business, you figured you would have to step into this life. Again. Though, with the state your memories were in, it might as well have been your first year with them all. Yet, you couldn’t do that and you knew it. Not with what you agreed to do in regards to your relationship with Arthur and memories and feelings that did filter in from somewhere you couldn’t put your finger on most of the time. 

It was what it was. 

You continued on at a steady pace up toward the mountains, the Grizzlies as Arthur had pointed out, heading up toward these springs that he was sure the map was depicting. Considering your unfamiliarity, you would have to take his word for it. Though, you were starting to become more aware as to why Arthur had been quick to point out getting your own horse, considering the work horse you had rode around on for the last while really wasn’t quite fit for the journey. Some guilt sat in your gut over that, making sure to slow down some and not push him too hard unless you had to for the time being. 

By the time you arrived at the springs, the sun was getting a little lower in the sky. It was still warm enough to suggest that it was early evening, but nightfall would be quick to follow. Still, upon riding up into the area, the stone structures on the map were not all that hard to find. Deciding to give your horse a couple moments, you slipped off your horse for a moment to take in the area. 

Much as you wouldn’t be in a hurry to call yourself an adventurer, you couldn’t help but admire the beauty of the scenery. The mountains, the trees. The springs were warm, the water a sharp blue and green as you could feel the warmth coming off the water once you got close enough.

“All I can remember from growing up was the desert. Everything’s a lot more...bright out here,” you commented, almost as an aside to yourself. However, you heard Arthur walk up beside you after presumably getting off his own horse. 

“Yeah…” he muttered in return, causing you to glance toward him a moment. After that hung in the air by itself for a few moments, you assumed he wasn’t going to say much else on that until you heard him continue, a touch of longing in his voice. 

“Really do miss bein’ out west, though. Open country, the heat. Felt...closer to the sky. Less people, less rules…” Arthur let out a small exhale, something close to a bitter chuckle if you could even call it that. “Though, maybe that ain’t all like I’m rememberin’ it.” 

“That sounds a lot nicer than what I remember of it,” you replied, tilting your head as you studied the water in the spring a couple steps off from you. “I remember the relentless heat unless it was raining, dust and sand that would get everywhere. My dad used to complain about it all the time. Though, maybe Tumbleweed isn’t the best example.” 

“It really aint,” he said around a short chuckle, “Would like to get back out there again, but with how far south Dutch has us headed, I ain’t so sure if that’s what I can expect no more.” 

“Maybe he’s just biding his time,” you said with a soft shrug, not too sure what his intentions were yourself. You weren’t in that circle, much as Arthur was. Though, considering his uncertainty, maybe Dutch wasn’t sharing everything with him anyway. 

“Sure.” 

You shifted back, turning to glance over at the rocks you had rode all the way up there for. A good couple hours on horseback, you had some hope that there would be more than just another map and some jewelry. Catching the shift in your attention, Arthur turned around before rummaging around in his satchel for the map again. You moved closer to look at the drawing again, taking a moment to place everything together with the area around you. With a couple of steps backwards, you looked over the rocks for a moment before pointing toward one near the back. 

“Looks like it’s that one.”

“If you’re so sure,” Arthur said, gesturing his head toward it somewhat, “You can do it this time.” 

You gave a soft chuckle and smile at his comment, though you were somewhat grateful at doing something other than just making commentary this whole trip. Much as you had been trying to stop kicking yourself about that cliff, there was that frustration there. So, you walked toward the rock structure in question, moving about it curiously for a moment before you seemed to find an opening. Bending down and sticking your hand in the hole, sure enough you found another map and some bills. 

It wasn’t much--another tease to keep you on the trail. Still, with the jewelry and the money, it would be a good start to getting that debt off your shoulders. At least, once you split it between the two of you. It was only fair. 

“...Think I might know this place, too, but might be a bit too much for this trip,” Arthur muttered, “Looks like it might be near that place Hosea and I tried huntin’ that bear.” 

“Bear?”

“You ain’t heard ‘bout that?” Arthur asked, some amusement in his tone, “Took me out there back at Horseshoe, talkin’ ‘bout some legendary bear. Huge feller. He weren’t wrong, but we didn’t hunt much of anythin’ that trip. Seemed it got the better of him, never seen the old man cower so quick when it came chargin’ at us.”

“Poor Hosea.” 

“Poor me,” Arthur returned around a chuckle, “I were the one havin’ to shoot at the beast for it to take off while he was hidin’ behind some rock. Though, figure I should be the one tellin’ you ‘bout all that before he starts addin’ some twist to that whole thing over a campfire one night.” 

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind so he doesn’t take your glory,” you said around a small chuckle in return. “You think we’ll make it back to camp today?”

“If you’re up to travellin’ through all this in the dark,” Arthur said, turning to glance toward the sky for a moment, “Figure we could set up camp tonight, make it back by afternoon if we leave in the mornin’.” 

“That would probably be easier,” you said with a small shrug. Honestly, the trip was starting to wear on you a bit, in a good way. Much as there was that one hitch earlier. 

“Guess if I get on it right away, I can probably hunt us somethin’ for the night,” Arthur said, accepting that as he turned back toward his horse. 

“I’ll find a spot and get a fire going,” you said, earning a short nod as he removed his bow and you wandered off toward your horse. 

                                                          ***

Nightfall was a lot closer behind than you had been expecting, managing to set up a fire just as the last rays of day started to disappear behind the trees. The air cooled as you managed to build the flames up enough to last for some time, allowing you time to get your horse settled and place your bedroll by the fire. With Arthur gone momentarily, it allowed you to lay back against it, face upturned to the sky. 

You had to admit to some relief at the knowledge that the day was ending, but it was a mixed feeling all the same. Going back to camp, despite it being as safe as it could be, left a strange pit in your stomach. You felt almost lighter out where you were, a set goal in mind that wasn’t washing shirts and refilling basins. Perhaps you needed that while you healed, but…

Hell, you didn’t quite know what else you could do. 

There was also that bit of a memory from earlier that was weighing on you, a part of you wanting to pick it apart. You knew you had done so pretty deeply with the one that resurfaced during Sean’s party, turned it this way and that in your head while trying to figure out if your mind was playing tricks. It had given you enough to know that it was truthful, that it didn’t feel as empty or made up as any other thought you had in trying to continue it. (Which did feel strange sometimes, imaging kissing him and the wandering thoughts on if it would feel different now. A thought that pulled some embarrassment out of you and had been something you pushed out of your head quickly enough.)

You could do the same with the one on the mountain, but...you were scared. You had to admit that to yourself. 

Though, the fact that you were and how overpowering it was seemed to say a lot on its own. 

You let out a small sigh, rubbing your hands over your eyes for a moment before looking back up at the sky. It was darker out, now, and you could make out a few stars. Though, you found your head lifting at the sound of a horse approaching from behind, causing you to sit up. However, you relaxed as you recognized Arthur as he hitched his horse next to yours. 

“Got a rabbit,” he said, pulling said animal from the side of his saddle, “Ain’t much but it’s enough. Should get somethin’ bigger for Pearson on the way back tomorrow, though.” 

“Rabbit sounds fine,” you replied, leaning back again somewhat as Arthur set about preparing the rabbit he had hunted. 

You watched him while he did so, the evening darkness playing with the light from the fire against his face. Arthur usually looked somewhat tired, and you didn’t need to know him for too long to know that he ran himself ragged for the gang. He was sharp edges and rough, he had a bad side to him and you knew that. Even if you hadn’t experienced that first hand, with Arthur’s own words about it and Dutch’s reliance on him as a strong arm, it wasn’t hard to piece together. Though, you figured it was only a matter of time before you witnessed that. 

There was also this other side to him. The patience and openness he showed you about this whole thing, the protectiveness of the people in camp--much as he had his own gripes with a few of them. That loyalty, even with the threat of death, as you saw at the river with those agents a while ago. There was also the man before you now, more relaxed than you had seen him be yet, even with the concentration he was showing in cooking that rabbit. 

Was this what you saw in him before? 

You had no idea. You had no idea what you were like now in comparison to how you were, having to rely on other people’s word for now on that. You could remember that conversation up in the snow. 

‘...I’ve seen you do more than just threaten with that gun…’

“You keep starin’ holes in the side of my head and I’m goin’ to think there’s somethin’ wrong.” 

You blinked, catching Arthur’s gaze out of the corner of his eye before you let out a somewhat awkward chuckle, bowing your head somewhat to study the toes of your boots. 

“It’s nothing, I’m just thinking. Sorry.” 

“Hell of a thought you must be havin’ if my ugly mug ain’t pullin’ you out.” 

“You’re not ugly,” you remarked so easily that it almost surprised you, “and it’s really nothing.” 

Arthur let out a small grunt, something that you weren’t sure on if it was him accepting that or dismissing it. Considering how quick he had been to put himself down, it might have been the latter. Still, you were somewhat grateful that he let the conversation go, offering you the rabbit once it had cooled from over the fire before setting out roasting his own. 

It was plain and unseasoned, but with how little you had ate that day, it was more than enough. 

“Did we used to do stuff like this?” you asked once you had finished eating, some curiosity getting the better of you. 

“Treasure huntin’? No. Could never find the maps. Though...you was a bit of a wanderer, used to be in and out of camp quite a bit. I’m surprised you lasted this long before askin’ to get out.” 

“Well, I guess that explains a bit,” you said around a small chuckle, “I’m kind of dreading going back to camp.” 

Arthur let out a chuckle, one that seemed warm, less sarcastic or humorless like you had heard before. Though, there was a touch of bitterness. 

“Way things are, I don’t blame you.” 

You let out a small chuckle, taking in a breath to say something more but a loud rumble overhead pulled you from that thought. Arthur shifted, glancing toward the sky off to your left before letting out a quiet curse and rising to his feet. 

“I have no idea where that came from,” you muttered, just able to make out the clouds in the gathering darkness. 

“Well, guess I’m usin’ the tent after all,” Arthur said, moving back toward his horse, “Unless you want to take your chances catchin’ your death by sleepin’ in the rain out here.” 

“No...No, I think I like that better,” you muttered. Already almost froze to death once before. 

The tent didn’t take too long to set up, more thunder rumbling overhead as Arthur did so. So much for falling asleep under the stars to a calm night, though you hoped the rain wouldn’t be too much if it did fall. You gathered up your bedroll from the ground once it was set up, Arthur putting his own in first. The tent was small, but enough to fit the both of you for the night without getting soaked by the rain. 

You crawled in first, laying yourself down somewhat as Arthur sat himself down near the opening in the tent. You watched for a few moments as he pulled out that familiar book you saw him writing in from time to time. Not wanting to seem intrusive, you shifted to lay down on your side facing him, focusing on the sounds of the woods around you and the rumbling thunder. You were trying to ignore the bit of a chill that was creeping in and the smell of wet earth. 

Though, Arthur’s small sigh pulled your attention toward him, glancing over as he spoke. 

“Couple nights ago, when I was drinkin’...” he started, “I...I’m sorry I said that. Weren’t right.” 

“I...I mean, that was rough to hear. I can’t lie about that. Though, I forgive you. Not much to forgive, I wasn’t holding that against you.” 

“Still shouldn’t have said anythin’. It was the whiskey, I always end up sayin’ nonsense.” 

Speaking of not saying anything, you could feel the question bubbling up. A part of you knew you shouldn’t have said anything and yet…

“...So you don’t miss me? That was the whiskey?” 

Arthur paused, glancing toward you to meet your gaze for a moment before glancing back down at his journal. “‘Course I do. Might not make sense, you’re right here, but…” 

“No, that makes sense,” you returned around a small sigh. 

“My feelin’s don’t matter in this situation anyway, so--” 

“No, they do,” you interrupted, sitting up as you tried to piece your words together. “You...you might seem like a stranger to me in some aspects, though maybe not so much as before. Yet, I know that’s not the same for you. We’re not two strangers. It...It hurt to hear, but I do want to know things like that. I have no idea where you’re at half the time. Half the time I’m wondering when you’ll give up the chase.” 

You hadn’t expected the words to come out, a part of you immediately wanting to shut your last sentence back behind your teeth. 

“Give up the chase?” 

“...Here I go, saying things I’m regretting…” you muttered, pressing the heels of your palms against your eyes as you let out a heavy sigh through your nose before dropping them to speak, “I feel so complicated when it comes to you. I...feel something. I don’t know what it is. I don’t want to act on it because of that. That’s why I pushed you away, much as I remember us kissing once.” 

“I wouldn’t push you into anythin’, that’s why I’m apologizin’ for that whole mess. I weren’t thinkin’ straight.” 

“I know you won’t,” you replied with a nod, “I just...I know some people would have left and I...if it happened earlier, I probably wouldn’t have felt much. Yet, with what you told me about Mary, I just…” 

“You want me to leave?”

“...No,” you replied, glancing up to meet his gaze as you swallowed thickly, “There’s that something, now. I just...I know it’s hard. You don’t need to apologize for that.” 

“You feel somethin’ for me?”

Shit, was this even coming out right? It was true. It was the only way you could explain why you were still there. Why you felt so conflicted about leaving when you had the chance, perhaps. Why it hurt to think of him leaving you for that ex-fiancee of his. Yet, you knew it wasn’t something you were ready to act on in any way. 

You found yourself nodding anyway. For a few moments, you were nervous on what you should do or say next. However, there was a weight lifted, like you figured out an answer to a question you weren’t sure you wanted to ask yet. 

That feeling only continued when Arthur just nodded his head, glancing down toward the closed journal in his lap. 

“...Kinda relieved to know that,” he said after a moment, letting out a small huff as he glanced toward you, “What I told you about what happened with Mary, I still mean what I said. I’m tryin’ if you’re tryin’, as complicated as the whole thing with Mary is. This too, I suppose.” 

“...Okay,” you said around a sigh, nodding your head, “I wish I could be more sure, but…” 

“I understand,” Arthur said around a small chuckle. 

That put a small smile to your face, causing you to nod again before you shifted back to lay down again. You could still hear the thunder, the rustling of wind through the trees. Though, the light scratching of pencil against paper also added to the space, eventually lulling you into a sleep as the first drops of rain started to hit the ground. 

#my writing. #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader

[milwrites]

Weird that it happened twice, right?

chapter four - masterlist

a/n: i’m really proud of this one, it’s a real favourite of mine, and is the end of where the story follows canon. obviously no one has died that does in-game, and i intend it to stay that way :) italics are john/narrator as usual :)))

word count: 3k

T/W: sexual assault, death, blood, lots of swearing.

Fingertips brushed against each other once more as guards pulled us in opposing ways, the 17 men being separated from the 2 women. I resisted violently, the men restraining me simply slipping a gag into my screaming mouth. A yell from John and I was thrown into the second cell in the past month. The women around me were terrifying to begin with, all of them much older than me and they spoke with not an ounce of tenderness, but I appeared to bring out the maternal nature in all of them. Perhaps the sight of a battered teenager in a prison that most died in before they were even hung softened even the hardest of hearts. They all seemed to protect me in some way; a few offered me some of their food from between the bars, others sliding me illicit bars of floral soap. I didn’t know what to make of it, didn’t think I deserved it until many of them opened up. They were mainly killers, but most had exacted revenge on a man who wronged them, and then kept killing. I told them stories in return. I had been educated as a member of the upper class, even if I had been treated poorly, and could recall many tales that had offered me escape from my life. I told told them stories of the mighty Thor and devious Loki from the norse myths, and managed to condense entire plays of Shakespeare into about ten minutes. It let us leave the penitentiary for a while, go to Asgard or Venice or the faerie kingdom of a Midsummer night's Dream.

John didn’t get the same level of closeness with his inmates. The men were killers or worse, and while John could play the act better than all of them, he stayed silent as much as possible. His thoughts were so loud as to overpower his voice, he could feel death coming once more and this time he knew Vesta wouldn’t appear to save him. He wished he could have said good bye to Jack. He wished he could have told the kid how much he loved him, how proud he was, how he was going to be a great man one day. He knew Arthur would look after him, and hoped that upon seeing the man assume responsibility for a child, Mary Linton would return to him, and they would raise Jack as best they could. If not, he consoled himself that Sean and Karen adored the child, would spoil him rotten of course, but he would be happy. He wondered if he’d been good enough. He decided he hadn’t. Decided that a good father would have quit this life long ago, a good father most definitely wouldn’t be hung for his crimes before his child could celebrate his 5th birthday. Tears were falling freely, as he thought about the boy being told neither parent would return home, that he would never ride down to the river to see deer with Vesta again, never play cowboys wearing his father’s hat again. He bit his fingernails to stumps and his lips a bleeding mess just considering every one of his past mistakes.

A prison guard rattled my cell to wake me. My sleep was fitful, dreams bloody. I’d braided my hair days ago, flyaways sticking to my sweaty face, which to the guard must have seemed like an invitation to enter my cell and pin me to the wall. I scratched and bit and kicked at him, my every effort doing nothing against the large man. I was crying great gulping tears, terrified at what was about to happen and even in the moment feeling guilty as I thought of John. The man let out a choked gurgle, the wet sound of blood filling his throat.

The woman in the cell beside her had been hiding a shiv for weeks, not planning on using it but keeping hold nevertheless. She had lodged it in the man’s meaty neck, and I pushed him off me, shaking with residual fear and snot still dribbling down my chin. “We- we’ve got to-“ I sniffed. “Got to get him out- and hide the shiv.” I never got the chance to move him. Other guards had heard the racket and were gathering outside the cell. A younger man pulled him out before locking my cell again, and I cried out in horror as they shot my saviour there and then. Gone. She didn’t cry out as she fell, her eyes only widened and her lips parted in a silent gasp. A fresh set of tears gilded my cheeks, the woman having given her life only to protect me from the assault almost every woman in the jail had been through. I wondered if it had been the kindness I had tried to offer, or how young I seemed, or even that it was that enough women had been through hell at the hands of the guards, but it would stick with me forever, the selflessness of a self-proclaimed murderer.

I felt hollow and empty, like the fear of death had been wiped from my mind. Death was so casual here. There were hangings every day, multiple at once. The guards told me regularly that I was to be hung with Marston, and it gave me comfort to know the last face she saw would be the one she loved most dearly. It even set me counting down the days, eagerly waiting to die at the promise of seeing him once more. How far away England seemed, that simplicity of life only punctuated by threats and callous words.

I didn’t see the balloon pass over, and was unaware of the commotion it had caused. I also didn’t hear the shots fired as a set of guards were killed out in the fields and an ultimatum was shouted over the prison walls. And what an ultimatum it was.

My cell door was opened by a scared looking boy, barely older than myself, the grip he held on my shoulders tight enough to bruise. I knew in that moment my time had come, and wryly wondered if this would get me to Valhalla. I welcomed death at that point, as it meant seeing John, maybe for all eternity. I held my head high.

Until I was greeted by an ever-so familiar voice.

“She don’t look too bad all things considered. Head’s still up high ain’t it, Mrs Adler?” The deep tenor of Arthur Morgan was joined by Mrs Sadie Adler’s western drawl. “Let’s get Marston and then we can assess our wounds maybe.”

I gaped at the sound of them, speaking lowly to the boy still gripping me tightly. “Well I’ll be damned.” It had been long decided in my mind that no one was coming for us; the first few weeks had me nursing a candle of hope that spluttered out soon after.

Cobblestones gave way to weed ridden grass under my bare feet even as the cast iron gate of Sisika Penitentiary groaned and shuddered its way open. I stumbled across the threshold, over it, and out onto the island, wasting no time in careering into arthur. He slipped me a revolver and a clip of ammunition. Another protesting screech of ill-fitted hinges and the gates rolled open for a second time.

He’d grown a beard, I noted with a face of disgust.

The miserable expression he’d worn for over a month faded away to a tentative smile at the moment he saw her wrinkled nose and creased brows. A niggling voice in his head hissed poisonous accusations against the girl: she hated him now, she had been hoping he rotted there so she could leave and live a better life. She suffocated it with a beaming grin, leaving Arthur’s side to cannon into him at full pelt, only knocking most of the air out his lungs. She mumbled into his chest, a slurred comment about how much she’d missed him, peppered with expletives and the odd nonsensical noise. A low rumble of mirth and a sharp exhalation of air was his only reply, him not trusting words enough to express himself.

“Ah hate to break up this heartfelt reunion but they are startin’ to shoot at us.” Reminded Arthur, the world having faded quite away for us both. Indeed, bullets were raining down from the battlements, being blocked only by the brick wall the convicts and their rescuers had gone and hidden behind. Chunks of plaster flew from the wall, chinks of light shining through. Sadie started issuing orders.

“John, (Y/N), make a run for it now ‘n’ we’ll cover you. There’s a boat in the marshland.”

We bolted. John seized my hand and held tight, his long strides easily outstripping my much smaller ones, and practically dragging me across the fields. Engaging the guards was suicide, between us we had 12 shots while each guard would have around 16 - and would be on horseback too. Instead we hid, darting from cover to cover, Arthur and Sadie leaving piles of bodies in their ever destructive wake. I saw the boat with a gasp, the sudden realisation that I was still alive, still with John and oh-

We would see Jack again.

John clambered into the boat first, giving me a hand climbing in. Two neat piles of clothes sat in the bottom of it, one with a hat on top and the other with- “Are those my guns?” pure delight shine through my question, my eyes lighting up as I spied the distinctive blued metal of my pistols. I rummaged a little more in the pile to find that they were my clothes too, and I scrambled to get changed while we waited for Sadie and Arthur. John did the same, happier to see his hat than guns, but expressing enjoyment at the reassuring weight of them at his hip. I let out another delighted laugh; I had found that Sadie had fully stocked my bandolier with ammunition, it spanning my chest with shiny cartridges peeping out from their leather keepers.

The gunfire came closer, Sadie taking a running jump into the boat and Arthur following closely, giving the boat a powerful push before entering it himself. For a while the only noise was the splash of the oars hitting the smooth water and the breathless recovery of the fighters, until John spoke up. “I don’t know how to thank you. I thought Dutch was gonna orphan Jack if I'm bein’ honest.” Arthur and Sadie exchanged apprehensive glances. Arthur inhaled deeply, looking pained as he explained himself. “Dutch, well he didn’t exactly sanction us comin’ for yer. He actually told us not to. Said he had a plan and such but it was bullshit so we came anyway. So don’t expect a great welcome I guess.”

The silence returned again, none of us knowing exactly how to respond.

beaver hollow - 1899

John didn’t know how many more times he could cradle her close to him like this, broken and beaten. He held back his rage for Jack’s sake, who was soundly sleeping leant against his father’s other side, too tired to fully register their return. He hated that his every dream ended with her dying in his arms, and that he had to wake up and see her dreaming the same dreams. She shifted in her sleep, muttering something that sounded distinctly like a threat, and moved closer to him. Beaver Hollow set him on edge. They didn’t have a proper tent, more a canvas shelter with two bedrolls under it, and he found himself shielding her with his body from prying eyes when she woke up in distress most nights.

I hadn’t told him what happened in Sisika. It seemed needless to me; he already knew it had been hell, because he’d been though it too. I didn’t need any more pity from him either.

The early hours of the morning cast a rosy glow over our prone bodies and the quiet stillness of the camp. Neither us them were asleep, both pretending for the others sake that we were.

“John? I need you over here a moment.” Dutch hollered from the other side of the hollow. Not receiving more response, he strode over to them, calling John again. “Can it wait?” I had no trace of patience in the way I spoke to him. I hadn’t challenged Dutch's seeming lack of action to spring them from prison, but the deep injustice was constantly boiling beneath my skin. “You aren’t busy, Miss (L/N). Neither is John.” Her tone had riled Dutch and he talked coldly to her, still taking the moral high ground as ever. I had sat up to speak to him, a shawl draped across my shoulders to for warmth. John started to stir, placing a restraining hand at my arm that I ignored. Dutch turned from me entirely, addressing John about a job he wanted to send him on. I fucking snapped. Stood up and started talking. “Shut the fuck up. Shut up. How can you ask him to go out on a job for you right now? We have been back less than 24 hours, Dutch, his son hasn’t even been able to speak to him yet. Remember his son? The one you were more than happy to orphan as long as it didn’t mess up your goddamn plan? You claim to care about every one of us, and yet when it really comes to it it’s only Micah fucking bell that you rescue every single time. You sprung him from the gallows within a week, and let me and john rot there for more than a month, let jack be parentless for a month.” I laughed a spite filled laugh. “But fuck it, eh? We’re back now aren’t we? Never mind the fact that we were beaten to shit in the meantime, never mind the fact that he might not be ready to head out again. At least you still have the money.” A crowd was gathering, Micah moving to Dutch and urging him to shut me up. Dutch shrugged him off, letting me continue. “You know. A woman died for me. She had no ties to me, had no idea who the flying fuck I was, and yet she gave her life to protect me. A guard tried to rape me. In my cell. And she stuck a shiv through his throat. That woman was a killer, a murderer, a convict, and yet she was willing to die for me having known me three weeks. She did more for me than you. I have stole and lied and why? Because you asked me to.” My voice had broken, tears streaming down my cheeks and yet never breaking eye contact with Dutch. John’s hand reached for his gun, Arthur stopping him, at my words. I didn’t look at him, but reached my hand out to meet his, gripping his fingers tightly. I swallowed. Turned around and scooped a now awake Jack into my arms, wordlessly carrying him to the horses as he begged to see Bonnie.

Everything changed for Dutch in those moments. He watched the girl carry the boy toward the horse that had been so aggressive without her, her small body relaxing as she patted her mare. Piglet followed over, then John, who settled next to her with his arm around her waist. A family. He saw then that it was a family that without Arthur and Sadie would have been broken beyond repair, the child an orphan and the two animals never to see their mistress again. The sight of Jack wriggling from (Y/N)’s arms to play with the terrier forced him to recall watching the boy crying inconsolably into her wiry fur. It had been 2 weeks since John and (Y/N) had gone, and Jack had thrown as many tantrums as he could muster to bring them home. Exhausted, hurt and with nothing having changed, the boy had sat on the floor and cried floods of silent tears, which Piglet had come over to lick away. The dog had sat herself as close as she could before him and allowed him to just clutch at her. Dutch had ignored it as best he could, ignored Hosea too, refusing to take responsibility and instead letting Micah assure him that it was for the greater good. He should have known the man was only too happy to let them die. He felt a fool. “Quit wallowin’.” Arthur's voice cut through his self-pity. Dutch glared at him for a moment before nodding and moving to leave his tent. Arthur caught his arm. “I tell you this now, Dutch, I will kill Micah myself if you don’t. he’s a rat. he’s why Pinkertons been findin’ us so damn fast.” His voice was low with anger. “You do it. I'm done killing.”

We were still playing with the horses, I had myself wrapped up and grooming Bonnie's sleek coat properly, luxuriating in the way I was able to talk to John about nothing in particular. Jack and Piglet had tired already, sat side by side with Old boy grazing beside them. Dutch cleared his throat. I didn’t look up from the knot I was pulling from my mare’s tail. John raised his head, face set and arms folded, expecting confrontation.

“Sorry isn’t going to cut it. I know that.” Dutch began with his hands as if in surrender. “But I can only offer you my heartfelt apologies - I failed you, my son, you and your family. And vesta I-“

I turned around to look at him, my face already softening. “I can never understand how it must have been. But I'm getting you out of this. All of you. No more plans. I was thinking-“ I cut him off, filled with a rush off forgiveness for him, an urge to hug him taking over me. I never had that much self-restraint. I looked up at him from the hug. “Let’s start again.”

We watched the sun setting across Roanoke ridge, basking in the residual warmth before the wintery chill of November air really set in. He pulled me in even closer, his warmth spreading into me, he and kissed the top of my head.

“Let’s start again.”

#john marston x reader smut #rdr2 #john marston #john marston x reader

[hydra-collector]

Let Me Go: Chapter 9

AO3 Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

Pairings: Intrulogical, Roceit

Characters: Logan Sanders, Remus Sanders, Janus Sanders, Roman Sanders, Virgil Sanders

TW: food, fire mention

Words: 1155

Summary: truth or dare?

Note: I finished it. I feel bad for the two people that I saw keeping up with it. I appreciate you guys. Also (I doubt anyone would want to be on it) I’d start a taglist if y’all asked 👀

Class was dull, the teacher boring an already uninteresting topic. Remus and Logan paid attention as much as they had to.

“Do we even need to do anything? They already know they like each other.”

“Trust me, my brother isn’t going to ask them out easily. We need to get Janus to do it.”

“Every time I’ve talked to them about it, they get pretty defensive.”

“We could invite them both somewhere and leave them alone together.”

“Not sure Roman’s smart enough not to run away.”

“We could always play truth or dare with one of them until they pick dare. Roman never goes back on a dare.”

“Remus… that is the most childish way to get them to go on a date. Let’s do it.”

Remus grinned their most adorable grin.

chaos twin: virgil wanna join in on our scheme

aro emo: depends what it is

chaos twin: we’re gonna get roman or janus to ask each other out

aro emo: i dont really care

aro emo: but it sounds fun

chaos twin: just play truth or dare with us after school

aro emo: ,,,truth or dare

chaos twin: itll work, we're gonna dare one of them to ask the other out

“The plan is, we go to your house, invite them over, make popcorn, and when they get there we watch something like a movie, and once it’s pretty late we play truth or dare. They’ll be tired and incoherent and won’t think about their decisions.”

They headed towards Logan’s house, Remus pushing him so he didn’t have to use his arms so much.

“Is the popcorn a necessary addition? It’s very unhealthy.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Also, Janus has not picked truth once in his life. I don’t think we’ll have a problem with daring him.”

“He’s good at talking his way out of stuff, though. I think Roman’s the better option. That also means we’ll get to play for longer before he throws a tantrum about our dare or Janus takes it.”

Remus kicked their shoes off when they got to Logan’s house, waving to their boyfriend’s mom as they hopped inside.

“Should I contact them now?”

Remus nodded and he sent three quick messages to Roman, Janus, and Virgil before following them inside. They pulled him into a mock-dance, spinning his wheelchair.

“We might actually get to dance someday.”

“Oh my gosh, have I never danced with you? That’ll be the first thing you have to do when you can. It’s law.”

“I’ll do it even if it actually isn’t.”

“Has physical therapy started?”

“Just this week. It’s a relief.”

Remus grinned, taking the popcorn from the cupboard and putting it in the machine. He bent down and hugged Logan from behind, head resting on his shoulder.

“I love being taller than you.”

“You’re not taller than me, I’m just sitting down.”

“I’m taller than you.”

Logan conceded for the sake of avoiding an argument, and soon there was a knock at the door. Remus answered it, welcoming their brother with a tight hug. Janus followed behind them, joining Logan in the kitchen.

“Remus tried to kill me, Logan.”

“You’re fine.”

“I’m emotionally wounded.”

“Go upstairs, bro. We’ll bring the popcorn.”

“I’m bringing the popcorn.”

Janus took the bowl, putting a piece of it in his mouth. He practically dragged Roman up with him by the wrist, leaving Remus to help Logan upstairs.

When they got upstairs, Janus was hoarding the popcorn as Roman tried desperately to grab some. He was whining like he did, Janus reveling in the length of his arms.

“Jan, share.”

“Nah.”

“Don’t forget I have the power to run you over.”

Remus nodded in agreement with their boyfriend, sticking their hand in the bowl to grab a handful. They gave half of it to Logan, offering their brother a single piece.

“Hey!”

“You gotta get it on your own.”

“You gave Logan some!”

“That’s ‘cause I love him.”

“Wow, you just don’t love me? I’m your brother.”

“No, I don’t care about you.”

Roman looked offended, Janus offering him some popcorn to shut him up. He grumbled as he munched. Soon, Virgil arrived, stealing the popcorn first thing.

“So, what’s the plan?”

“Remus said they wanted to play Truth or Dare, I mean, what are we, twe-”

“Oh my gosh, Truth or Dare?”

Roman grinned at Remus, immediately ecstatic about this news.

“Well, I guess we’re playing Truth or Dare.”

“Don’t disrespect Truth or Dare, Virgil.”

Janus leaned into his position next to Roman until it was enough to make him blush. Remus sat in front of Logan on the floor, Virgil in between them and Janus.

“In honor of the offense I’ve taken for Truth or Dare, Virgil. Truth or Dare?”

“Wow, Remus. Truth.”

“What’s the most illegal thing you’ve done?”

“Now you’re the one disrespecting Truth or Dare! You’re not even playing it right!”

“Answer the question.”

“Fine. I stole some greenbeans once from the produce section.”

“That’s it?”

“I’m paranoid about getting caught, okay? Anyway, you’re the person that wouldn’t do anything legally if you didn’t have to, Janus.”

“There’s not enough illegal things in this world.”

“How about Logan. Truth or Dare?”

“Truth.”

“Wow, boring. What’s the most illegal thing you’ve done?”

“Hmm… that’s between me and Remus.”

“You have to answer the question!”

“I’ve done graffiti before.”

“Seriously?”

“Janus asked us to write ‘fuck the government.’”

“Haven’t they done that themselves a million times?”

“I have.”

“Janus, then.”

“Truth.”

Roman grumbled. “One of you better pick dare soon.”

“Truth?!”

“Mhm.”

“I have never seen you pick truth before.”

“Well, maybe I wanted to change things up.”

Do they know?

“...Okay. How about... Have you committed arson yet?”

“...Maybe.”

“What do you mean ‘yet?’”

“Oh, has Janus not told you that ‘commit as many crimes as possible’ is their entire bucket list?”

“How do you not know this about me, Virgil?”

Virgil’s face was getting more and more bewildered as the game went on.

“So, Roman, Truth or Dare?”

“Dare. Because you cowards won’t choose it.”

“Dare?” Janus moved closer to the couch, looking up at Roman, smiling. “I dare you to go on a date with me.”

Roman blushed hard before composing himself.

“When?”

“Saturday, eleven.”

“Where?”

“Stables. I’ll pay.”

“Horseback riding? Isn’t that expensive?”

“I have ways of acquiring money.”

Virgil would have asked about those ways, but all of them were speechless.

“What? You think I wouldn’t find out that you’re trying to dare me into asking Roman out? Virgil isn’t exactly the best at hiding his phone.”

“Wow, Virgil.”

“I mean, does it matter, Remus? They asked him out anyway.”

“Hey, you’re right. Even if we didn’t dare you, it was still us that got you to do it.”

Janus realized his mistake, blushing in embarrassment.

“Well, I’ll probably end up with a boyfriend anyway.”

“Does this mean Operation Roceit is complete, Remus?”

“I’d say so.”

“Operation Roceit?!?"

#sanders sides #logan sanders #remus sanders #roman sanders #janus sanders #virgil sanders #intrulogical #roceit #ts logan #ts remus #ts roman #ts janus #ts virgil #tw food #tw fire mention #tw horse #sanders sides fic #grays fics #let me go

[morganaofcamelot]

If Wishes Came True (Chapter 2)

Title: If Wishes Came True Chapter II: Sense of Family

Fandom: BBC Robin Hood

Ships: Guy of Gisborne/Original Female Character, Guy of Gisborne/Marian of Knighton, Original Female Character/Original Male Character

Definately an AU - Sir Guy of Gisborne has served the current Sheriff of Nottingham for five years prior to the beginning of the first season, and is considered a part of the family, both by Vaisey and his daughter Valerie. The chapters are from Val’s POV, as she struggles to maintain her youthful innocence in a place that’s all too willing to steal it away from her, and navigate the intrigues of her father. [Many changes from the show, although the fic loosely follows season 1]

Important Note: English is not my first language, so I’d appreciate if you can point out any mistakes I make.

On AO3

Tumblr: Ch I

Two days have gone by, since the incident at the hanging. Sir Guy had returned empty handed from his search and the sheriff was livid with anger at first, shouting at his subordinate with such passion that frightened Valerie to her core; the knight stood there, head hung low, barely speaking. She thought she saw some emotion crossing his face, but she couldn’t place it, as Sir Guy’s face had always been unreadable to her.

Valerie felt the need to speak up in Sir Guy’s defense. “Lord Father,” she said, surprising herself as well as the two men with her gall to interrupt them. “Your men say that the fugitives had managed to escape into the forest. You know, in your infinite wisdom, that Sherwood is large and had never been properly mapped out. It is expected that they completely lost them inside that maze.”

Both of them looked at her with astonishment. Her words made sense, Vaisey found. “Yes, well, my daughter is right, Gisborne.” Her father said, with a smile. “Which is why I won’t hold a grudge for your failure.”

The knight perked up, his spirits finally restored. “I thank you for that, my lord,” He said and turned to her. “And I thank you, Valerie.” The small smile he gave her set loose butterflies in her stomach. She managed to return it.

“Which is why,” her father said, taking no notice of the interaction between them, “We will go to Locksley and seek Huntingdon out ourselves. He must be lurking somewhere in his demesne, and we will catch him.”

All too willingly, Sir Guy agreed. “Yes, my lord.” The reverence was back in his voice as he looked at the sheriff.

“Come on, my boy. Let’s waste no time. Gather thirty men, we’re heading to that stinky village, now.”

The knight needed to hear no more. In a few steps he was outside the door, all too eager to please the sheriff.

“Daughter mine,” her father said, sweetly. Alarm set her nerves on fire. Her father never spoke in such tones, so she feared some kind of retribution for speaking out of turn. “Oh, no, no, no, no. Don’t fret. You know I don’t particularly appreciate when you stick your nose in my business affairs, but I have to admit, you were right about Sherwood. It’s a vast forest.”

Valerie tension evaporated a little, only to double back with his next words.

“You should accompany us, today. You have to get a better view of the falsehoods and injustices that plague this land. Have someone prepare your horse, hmm? Good girl.”

Valerie liked horses, but didn’t enjoy riding them. The hour spent on horseback was an hour of discomfort. They had started an hour after the sheriff had declared his intention to pay Huntingdon a visit. Sir Guy had gathered the thirty men quickly enough, and all of them were armed and armored to the teeth. Her father, not so – he didn’t expect to take a part in a possible altercation then.

Sir Guy fell back a little, guiding his black stallion close to her brown palfrey. “Valerie,” he started, his voice dripping honey. “Thank you for your speech, earlier, in the hall.”

She couldn’t help but smile. “Sir Guy,” she said, almost a whisper. “I’ve known you for more than five years now, do you think I would not help you? I sometimes think of you as my slightly older brother.” A laugh escaped her, and the knight grinned at her attempt at humor.

“Older? Am I not younger than you, then?”

His mirth made her heart flutter. Focus Valerie, she pleaded to herself. “Only one of us has seen the other with pigtails. Was that you sporting that style?”

Sir Guy straight up laughed at her joke. Her father glanced behind him, to see what has made Gisborne so jolly, but quickly lost interest and continued to frown at the muddy path before them. The sheriff could fight everything and everyone, but he could not fight the rain that poured the previous night.

“I thought so,” Valerie concluded, speaking more to herself.

“You were in the company of Lady Marian the other day. Are you friendly?” He asked, revealing the reason why he paid her special attention this day. Marian, if only I knew what her role in this sudden insurgence was. No ordinary woman carries daggers in her hair.

“Oh, we haven’t been exchanging secrets, if you have to fish for some. But I quite like her. So I hope to call her a friend soon.” Valerie replied, the lie easily finding melting with the truth.

Sir Guy’s gaze was fixed on the sheriff’s back. He’s trying to play it, as if he doesn’t really care. Oh, but he cares for her, a lot. “Would you fault me if I confessed a secret of mine to you? Would you keep it?”

The answer was easy. “Yes, of course, Sir Guy. I am your friend in all things.”

He half-smiled then. “I quite enjoy her company, Valerie. Lady Marian is a unique creature I wish to possess.”

Ever the virginal maiden, Valerie blushed for Marian’s benefit at such a profound statement. “I dare say, you will be met with luck in your endeavor.”

“You think so?” His voice was almost a murmur. He daren’t believe that his feelings were reciprocated.

Sadness overtook her. A woman who could have you, and your rare smiles, my lord of Gisborne and reject you is a foolish one. “I do. Truly.”

With her assurance, Sir Guy spurred his horse, falling in place next to the sheriff.

 ***

The village of Locksley soon came into view. Father barked orders and the soldiers spread around the village green, dismounted their horses and picked every peasant they could find, bringing them on their knees in front of her father, Sir Guy and her. The sheriff got off his horse and walked amongst them, calmly explaining what he wanted from them.

The peasants remained silent, stealing glances and exchanging confused looks with each other. When the sheriff asked for somebody with information on Huntingdon to come forth, Valerie saw some semblance of honest in their dirty faces. They really didn’t know where their liege was. Not even the generous amount of twenty pounds could convince them to speak.

Then Sir Guy, proving that he wasn’t the sheriff’s right-hand-man for no reason, shouted them that either they would talk, or they would have their tongues cut off. Valerie gulped. She knew that her father dealt harsh punishment on the disobedient peasantfolk, and she knew that Sir Guy was his enforcer.

The frightened look on the villagers’ face told Valerie everything she needed to know. Couldn’t her father read the truth in their eyes? She pondered on why she had never noticed it before.

The sheriff gave a curt nod on one of the soldiers, and he produced an iron scissor, menacingly snapping it on and off, to instill more fear. He grabbed the closest man and…

Valerie could not bear to watch. No, she wouldn’t watch. She turned her head away from the scene, not caring whether her father would disapprove of her cowardice. She just prayed that Huntingdon would show himself sooner, rather than later.

***

The hour passed, and still Huntingdon was nowhere to be found. Valerie thought him a coward by then; another man born and bred into nobility who let innocence people suffer in his stead.

The sheriff and she had been offered chairs to sit upon, and wine to drink while the waiting dragged on. Sir Guy stood, leaning on her father’s chair, yawning from boredom mixed with a splash of tiredness. Oh, but he looks splendid, she thought, taking in his form. The sheriff ordered another clipping, then. She averted her eyes once again.

The minutes trickled by. Neither Sir Guy’s offer of immunity, nor her father’s appeal for rational thought seemed to work.

And then it happened, something happened but the long hours beneath the sun and the foulness of her mood did not help her understand it. As another peasant was grabbed to suffer the punishment her lord father had commanded, an arrow shot through the soldier holding the clipper. The man fell down, face first.

“He is here,” her father declared. The guards rushed to the direction the arrow came from. So did Sir Guy. Minutes later, they returned with the renegade lord in their midst, as a prisoner.

Before she knew it, they were on the way back to Nottingham.

 ***

The moment they arrived at the castle, Valerie sought the comfort of her bed, as she was no longer required.

Her father ordered the guards to throw Huntingdon in the dungeon to await his fate.

By supper she had replenish her strength, and found her father eating rather heartily, in lieu of his victory.

“Ah, my girl!” He welcomed her in open arms. Valerie kissed on the cheek and took a seat beside him.

“What’s to be done with Huntingdon, lord father? Will he stand trial?”

“Oh, thank goodness no. As an outlaw he is to be hanged without a trial. Nice, isn’t it?” he replied. “And at long last, Gisborne can have his title and stop whinging for once.”

“So, Sir Guy is to have his title, after all?” Valerie said. “That’s wonderful news.”

Suddenly, a lot of noise came from the hallways of the castle. “What is going on?” Her father inquired. “Valerie, quickly, stand behind me!” She did as she was bid, and her father drew his sword. Screams echoed on the stone walls and hurried steps, loud bangs and the clashing of blade against blade was heard. Valerie looked around the hall, for a weapon she could use; she had never trained with one, but she would never let her father face his attacker alone.

The double doors were forcefully opened, and Huntingdon walked in, bow and arrow in hand, ready to shoot. Valerie spotted the bandage on his right arm, where the arrow had pierced his skin the other day. Maybe this could play in their favor.

“Yesterday in Locksley, you revealed your true colors. Today I reveal mine. You were right; I have lost my taste for bloodshed, but if you ever, so callously or needlessly hurt someone to get to me, I will kill you.”

Her father talked back in a calm manner. “I don’t believe you, former Lord of Locksley. And I will not change my ways, because you ask me to. If England demands it, I will stoop low, lower than you can possibly imagine, so kill me now!”

The lordling then made a move to fire the arrow and Valerie’s mind reeled. “No!” she screamed. She brought her own self forward to stand between him and Lord Robert. “You shall not harm my father, outlaw.” she spat as she uttered the last word. “Or you shall have to do it over my own corpse.” The eyes of their adversary flicked between her and the sheriff, calculating his chance of success. He didn’t have many arrows in his quiver, Valerie noted. “How noble it will be of you, to murder a defenseless woman!”

He blinked. At that moment she knew that Huntingdon had lost his conviction.

“Leave now, and spare your honor and your good name.” Valerie said, appealing to his sense. “Stay, and the guards will overtake you, as I see your forearm is bleeding and you won’t be able to fight ten men on your own, and you’ll kiss the noose earlier than you ever anticipated.”

With that, Huntingdon turned wordlessly, although no less frustrated, and ran. Valerie let out a sigh with a violent sob. “Oh, father,” she told him, tears threatening to overtake her.

“Silly girl,” he replied with generous affection. He sheathed his short sword and embraced her to soothe her. “You shouldn’t endanger yourself.” He kissed her brow, the battle outside forgotten for a split second. The sheriff let her go then, and walked to the window to see that some twenty men had showed up and orchestrated Huntingdon’s escape.

“Ah, if only Gisborne was here.” Her father muttered. “He would show them, my boy.”

#robin hood bbc #bbc robin hood #guy of gisborne #guy of gisborne x original female character #*mine

[knjnvrland]

Prank Wars - ch. 3

> pairing | jungkook x reader

> word count | 3.2k

> genre | college!au, fluff, smut, angst

> warnings | swearing, alcohol consumption, sexual innuendos

> synopsis | College can be a stressful time in anyone’s life as it is, why don’t we throw a little prank war in the mix to make it harder?

> fic masterlist

> A/N | English is not my first language, I’m sorry for the eventual spelling mistake, please let me know if you find any!

Chapter 3 - Adding Wood

“Dude please, you have to help me” Taehyung was at Jungkook’s place way too early in the morning, already bothering the younger one.

“Just let it go” Jungkook rolled his eyes, grabbing himself some cereal and pouring it into the bowl on the table. Cereal first, milk later, whoever thinks otherwise is a psychopath.

“I can’t! Someone uploaded a picture of it to the school's twitter gossip page and now I can’t go anywhere without being called a fucking tampon!” The incident at the party happened over a week ago and people were still talking about it. For the first few days it was actually kind of funny and Taehyung played along, but after trying to get a girl’s number and getting a no from her because of it, he finally decided he needed to get his revenge. “Beside that, you were the actual target, don’t you want to do something about it?”

“Not really.” Jungkook answered with his mouth full. “It’s not like she actually got me, and I’m not into the idea of fueling the weird vendetta she has against me.”

“But if she tried once she probably will again!” Taehyung finally took a sit and stopped his pacing, trying to convince his friend using a different approach. “I know my sister, she won’t stop at that.” That was a lie, he knew you were not really one to hold grudges, and whatever it was that Jungkook did to you had him surprised just as much as anyone else at how you reacted, but he was saving that picture of you for so long now, just waiting for a justifiable chance to use it, and this was the perfect opportunity. 

Jungkook finished his cereal and started to grab his stuff to head to class, with Taehyung always behind him, blabbering about the stupid plan. It wasn’t even that big of a plan, really, just publishing an old photo of you on that same twitter page, the old 'an eye for an eye' thing. He was only bothering Jungkook so much because Jungkook actually knew who ran the account, and had kept it a secret from everyone else. “Fine! Okay, whatever, just send me the stupid pic and I’ll make sure it’s up by tonight.” He gave up. In the year he knew Tae, it was obvious the bleached hair boy was not keen on giving up, specially on a dumb idea.

“Thanks! But wait until we’re all together tonight, I can’t wait to see her face.” Taehyung hugged Jungkook from behind, receiving a shove from the other boy’s elbow, and followed him outside.

You were all at Jin’s apartment that night, it was game night and your older brother was trying to establish some sort of new tradition. Hoseok was just finishing his over complicated explanation on the rules for War when you got the notification. It’s not like you used social media that much, but the appeal of the twitter account grew on you ever since the accident and checking the new comments under your brother’s picture became part of your morning routine and made your days begin at least 5% happier because of it. Even if he wasn’t the real target, that shit was amazing and a few of your classmates even stopped you to comment on it, the embarrassment of it all washed away quickly.

And that’s why you were left absolute speechless being betrayed like that by same website that made your week great. You must’ve been about fifteen when that picture was taken. You were going through some sort of late horse phase and had been taking horseback riding classes all summer, and on the last day of it there was a competition where you placed second. In the picture you were at the podium, still wearing your helmet with hair wet from sweat sticking in odd directions. You had a pink shirt that read 'I love horses’ on it and matching pink boots. Your smile was wide and your braces were on full display while you held your silver medal. The picture was cropped, of course, seeing as Tae wasn’t on it and you remember clearly that he took those classes with you and was standing right beside you when your mom took the photo. You looked like such a child, no boobs, no hips, ridiculous choice of clothes. You took your time growing up, being the baby of the family, and now looking back you could totally understand why your only friends were your brothers. You loathed that picture ever since, and was sure that you had destroyed all evidence it ever existed, but apparently someone saved a copy. Your train of thoughts was interrupted by a laughing Jimin sitting across from you.

“Oh my god y/n” he had tears in his eyes already, and the commotion made Alice scoot closer to peep at his phone and see what was so funny anyway.

At that everyone took out their phones to check what the fuss was about, and a big laughter erupted all around you. Your eyes laid on Jungkook, the only one laughing that did not have his phone out as well. “Why are you laughing?” You tried to ignore the multiple questions your other friends were throwing at you.

“I bet he’s the one that posted it” Yoongi stated and everyone could see the minute you started to shoot daggers through your eyes.

“How did you even get that?” Namjoon had his phone out and was sharing the screen with Hoseok, but only the dancer was paying attention, taking a screenshot of the page. “A few years back she purged that photo from existence”.

“Or so she thought” Taehyung had this side smile on his face and it took everything in you to not slap it off.

“It's not that bad honey” Alice, who was sitting beside you, squeezed your shoulder “It’s a childhood pic, we only know it’s you because we’re close, no one else will recognize you” You were still speechless taking your friend’s phone from her hand and pointing at the description with the photo. ‘Local drink thrower used to be a horse girl, let’s hope she doesn’t use a horseshoe next time’ and then, as if it wasn’t obvious already, they had tagged your account.

“They left out the best of it” Jungkook blurted out, and everyone’s attention went back to him.

“So it was you” Your voice was barely audible.

“It was Taehyung, actually, I just helped” he shrugged “and it could be worse, I sent it telling them you were a teenager when it was taken, not a kid”. Tae bursted out laughing again, followed by Jimin.

“At least it’s a glow up, y/n” your pink haired friend stated “you're hot now, it gives people hope”. 

“Hey, that’s my sister” Jin warned.

“And she. is. hot.” Jimin insisted, earning himself a slap in the back of the head from the eldest of the group, but winking at you anyway.

You could appreciate what he was trying to do, as well as Alice, who still had her hand on your shoulder. You had heard stories of similar things they posted about each other last year, so no one was really bothered with Jungkook’s and Taehyung’s actions, but it still made you uneasy. You were still new in college and already so many things were being spread about you. The fact that everyone knew your friend group didn’t help, and you hoped you could survive the rest of the school year, at least. 

Everyone’s attention went back to the game they never began, but Jungkook’s eyes were set on you. He felt a bit sorry, of course, but you seemed to take it okay as you grabbed a card to read your goal on the game, not bothering to say anything to him. Seeing you at the party he expected a bit of a bigger outburst, and when you barely reacted he worried he crossed a line with the stupid prank, but then, just as you finished your turn and everyone’s focus was now on Namjoon, you looked straight at him and mouthed “I'm gonna kill you”. He didn’t quite know what he got himself into, but he knew he was in for a ride.

A month had gone by and Halloween was approaching fast. Between classes getting harder, school work starting to pile up, and a few overnights already at the library, you had spent way too much time thinking of a way to get back as Jungkook, but was not really successful. That is, until you overheard Hoseok and Namjoon talking while the three of you were having lunch together.

“Wait, backtrack, what halloween party?” You interrupted the boys conversation.

“It’s at Delta Sigma’s again” Namjoon clarified “but it’s dumb ‘cause it’s not even a dress up party, they’re just using halloween as an excuse to get drunk again.”

“And what’s the problem with that?" Hobi stole one of Joon's french fries, having finished his. "We could all use a bit of fun before things get chaotic with university work.”

“The problem is” Namjoon stole it back and ate it “it's not a halloween party if we’re not dressing up.”

“Of course it is, if it’s on Halloween’s night-" before Hoseok could continue, and you knew the two of them could go on like that for hours -you’ve seen it happening-, you took your chance.

“Okay I’m sorry to interrupt but I need your help with something” you smiled big, the kind of smile that told them nothing good was coming their way, the kind that had your friends terrified of you, the kind that they could not say no to.

You ended up getting everyone on board with it, they all still felt a little bit bad about the photo prank, and once you convinced Alice -who never wanted to do anything bad or, as Yoongi would say, fun- it was pretty easy getting the rest of them. You faked conversations for days on the group chat, and you were surprised at how everyone was able to keep a secret for so long, but finally the day was here.

It was hard thinking of an excuse as to why Yoongi could’t be Jungkook’s ride to the party, but after a bit of bribing, Taehyung offered to take him before he could ask the older one. He still owned you, anyway, and he should be glad he was not the target of this prank as well. That being settled, you all made the effort of getting to the party when it was actually supposed to start.

“What’s taking him so long?” You asked out loud, not to anyone in specific.

“Have you tried texting your brother?” Yoongi was beside you and heard it. He wasn’t one to talk much when he was still sober, so the two of you normally sticked around each other, specially when Alice was as hyper as she was now, taking advantage of the fact that you got here early when there was still good alcohol around, and drinking as much of it as she could with Jimin.

“Dude, is it always like this when we get to places on time?” Said drunk boy threw his arm around Yoongi.

“You would know if you tried every once in a while” he moved away from the embrace, and Jimin took the cue and hung himself around you instead.

“Nah, only y/n could make me do this” you smiled thankfully at him, and was distracted for a moment when some sort of commotion took place at the room near you, where the front door was located.

You untangled yourself from Jimin and marched there without a second thought, and you had just spotted Taehyung leaning over a wall when someone screamed “Who hired the clown?”. And there was Jungkook, still midway at the entrance door, dressed head to toe as a circus clown. Laughter erupted everywhere around the room and you could even recognize Jin’s loud one somewhere behind you, but you were too focused at the boy staring straight into your soul. Jungkook had locked eyes with you and you took your sweet time smiling victoriously back at him. No words needed to be said for him to know that it was all your doing. Some guy from the fraternity came towards him and patted him on the back, and Jungkook responded by laughing along and making his way inside. You knew he was embarrassed by how red his ears were, and by the thumbs up your brother sent you from across the room, but he was a good sport and played along with it, taking pictures, getting in character and smiling along with the jokes. You were a little annoyed at how well he was handling it, but you already knew he was just that type of person and honestly, you could even appreciate him a little bit for it. You got cold feet a couple hours ago, when you were getting ready, and even tried to call it off, but Alice, of all people, stopped you. You would have felt horrible if he actually was hurt by the prank and the pictures that would go around after tonight were enough to satisfy you as far as revenges went, you didn’t need the boy feeling bad as well. Jimin snuck back beside you and pulled you in a commemorative embrace, and you followed him to the dance floor. Your mission here was done, now it was time to have fun.

And you tried to, but your plan backfired a bit when every now and then a girl would approach your friend group and ask for Jungkook’s number. But apparently that was a normal thing for him at parties, as Jimin had pieces of paper already with Jungkook’s number written on them shoved into his pockets.

“He wrote his number a bunch of times and distributed amongst us once last year, but I still menage to find pieces of paper with it in every pocket of every pair of pants I own” Jimin took a bunch out, to prove his point.

“How are you even friends with him?” You couldn’t hold back a laugh.

“What can we do? He’s a crackhead, but he’s our crackhead” he handed you a few pieces of paper and you threw them up like they were confetti.

For the rest of the night you’d have to stop whatever you were doing so Jimin could hand someone Jungkook’s number, but it didn’t matter because at the end of the day, he would still be known by all those girls as the boy who showed up dressed as a clown, and that was good enough for you.

After the party things quieted down for a bit, as everyone’s work load got heavier. The pictures of Jungkook as a clown still made a few rounds and became a meme amongst your friends, being sent as an answer to basically everything. He pretended to be annoyed at first but couldn’t really keep up with everyone and just gave up, you won. It was already mid November and Jungkook was not really thinking of a way to get back at you. He was a little afraid to keep adding wood to that fire, but his pride was a little bit hurt. And then, the perfect opportunity was handed to him on a silver tray.

There were a few of you at the boy’s place. Jungkook and Taehyung were playing videogames, while Alice, Hoseok and you were at the kitchen cooking dinner. It was a chill and uneventful Wednesday night, and you gathered just because no one had anything better to do. You were just  telling your friends on the new updates you got on the guy you were currently crushing on.

After Jungkook’s prank, you ended up getting drunk with Jimin and Alice and bumped into the same guy you met at the previous party you went at Delta Sigma, he was still bright eyed and handsome, but now he also had a name: Ray. Even his name was cool. You ended up dancing together and talking a bit, but never got around to exchanging phone numbers, so you haven’t seen him since. You had a vague memory of him mentioning his major was something related to engineerings, and one of your classmate’s girlfriend was a chemical engineering student, so you asked her to look around, but with no success, and that’s what you were updating your friends on.

“I could ask around to the guys, if he frequents their parties someone must know him" Hoseok said, occupying his hands with the peeling of a piece of string cheese.

“I don’t want to seem like a stalker, though” you stood up to check the oven, where you were waiting for the potatoes to be done “and maybe he’s not even interested, I told him I was in lit, he could have looked for me”.

“Maybe he just forgot babes, you were both pretty drunk” Alice pointed out.

“As if I was the only one” you teased back “but seriously, I don’t want you to go out of your way to find him, if it’s supposed to happen, it will”

“It’s up to you, you know I wouldn’t mind” Hobi finished his cheese and stood up to get another piece from the fridge “and besides, you’ve been so stressed out, a good lay could help” Alice glared at him and you scoffed.

“Hobi, not even the best sex of my life could ease the stress of trying to finish that damn Bukowski paper” You played along, as Jungkook approach the counter and reached for a piece of sliced tomato on the other side.

“Bukowski? I like his stuff” you rolled your eyes at him and went to get him another beer, knowing the reason he made himself present could only be that.

“Of course you would” you handed him the beverage and, while chewing, he signaled ‘two’ with his hands, letting you know Tae also wanted one.

He took it and went away for a second to deliver the drink, but came back to the same spot “what were you even talking about, anyway?”

“Y/n likes a boy -ouch” Hobi started to answer, and Alice kicked him under the table, but it was already too late, Jungkook’s eyes were sparkling with curiosity.

“So the ice queen has a heart, who’s the poor soul?” He was trying to get a reaction out of you and you knew it.

“None of your business” You took the potatoes out of the oven “and get out of my way before I throw this at you”

“You have terrible aim” at that, Taehyung joined Jungkook hovering over the counter “and look, Tae’s even here, I’m safe” you rolled your eyes and decided to not further the little back and forth. Hobi and Alice were already setting up the table and you urged the two younger ones to help and stop bothering you.

They listened, not really because of you but more so because of the other two around you sending them warning glares, and the evening continued nicely, with everyone even forgetting the conversation about the pretty boy. Well, not everyone.

> A/N | We're starting to get savage here. Have a nice day, wherever and whoever you are :)

TAGLIST  @w1tchcraftt

TAGLIST IS OPEN!

#prank wars #jjk #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #bts fanfiction #bts fic #bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst #college!au #university!au

[imperfekti]

Tenipuri Party: Echizen Ryouma profile translation

TN:

In the absence of an official English version, this translation is intended to help those who can’t read the material in the original language. Please support Tenipuri by getting your own copy of this book - it is worth it! There are various ways of purchasing it even for those not living in or visiting Japan.

The pictures I have included in this post do not show full pages.

On Echizen’s style of speech: he uses boyish style with pretty straightforward and brief sentences. In Japan it wouldn’t be considered exactly polite in style, even if the content is not exactly rude.

I’m still working on Japanese, so there might be mistakes. Please let me know if you spot any translation errors so I can fix them here!

U-17 Japanese representative, middle schooler Seishun Gakuen tennis club player 33,432 votes

Leading to the stars, going beyond Tenimuhou - the samurai that conquers any heights!

Message

You’ve always been looking at me, haven’t you. I’m grateful for that. Thanks. Regardless of the ranking, I’m your number one. Right? Cheer for me more and more. Because I’ll take you along and go even higher.

Profile

Middle school 1st year / December 24th /  Capricorn / O type / 151 → 152.5 cm / 50 → 47 kg / Left handed

Special techniques: Twist serve, Drive A, Drive B, Drive C, Drive D, Cool Drive, Muga no kyouchi, Tenimuhou no kiwami, Samurai Drive, Hope (kanji: Hikaru Dakyuu)

Play style: All-rounder

Family: Father, mother, female cousin, cat (Karupin)

Father’s occupation: A temple’s substitute head priest

Hobbies: Clearing borrowed games, watching cat videos

Favourite saying: All or Nothing

Favourite color: Silver

Favourite foods: Fried fish (the type with not much bones), Chawanmushi, famous sweets

Favourite book: TENNIS LIFE (an American tennis magazine)

Favourite music: J-pop

Preferred type of person: Someone who looks good in a ponytail

Preferred date spot: Santa Monica Pier Pacific Park

Most wanted thing right now: A smart watch

Weakness: Early wake-ups, paparazzi

Elementary school: Los Angeles State Saint Youth Middle-school 

Committee: Library committee

Strong subjects: English, chemistry

Weak subjects: Home-ec (cooking), Japanese 

Often-visited place in school: Under the big tree behind the school

Uses allowance on: Fanta

Skills beyond tennis: Being liked by animals, peeling fruits cleanly, horseback riding(?) 

Routines during tournaments: Soaking in an open-air bath

Favourite anniversary: Any day as long as there’s tennis

Preferred travel destination: Snow viewing onsen

Present for a special person: Just tell me what you want

Interview

“As long as I can play tennis, I don’t care which team I play for”

Congratulations on being reinstated as Japan’s representative! For Echizen-senshu, what was the experience of fighting as an American representative like?

What was it like…? Normal. As long as I can play tennis, the country is irrelevant.

Did you have a strong desire to play on the same team as Ryouga-senshu?

No, I wanted to play against him. But in the end, he was being evasive and escaped.

Where there any impressions you had looking at the Japanese team from the outside?

They’ve changed a bit, somehow. Fuji-senpai, Atobe-san, that person called “the child of god”. And… Akutsu-san too. Not bad, everyone.

Is that the reason you returned to Japan’s team?

Not really. It’s just that when I thought about who were the people that made me strong… If you’re fighting together with someone, I guess I’d do it here.

Sometimes, a samurai-like aura can be felt around Echizen-senshu.

Hmm… I don’t know since I can’t tell myself. When I was fighting the French prince, I guess it was said that he was a knight and I was a samurai. He was a troublesome guy, but the match with him was fun. Well, I’ll win next time too. The horseback match was a tie, but next time I’ll win that one too.

Party Talk

Q: Is there any table with players you’re interested in? A: Not really… But I guess there are strong looking guys at the German table. Well, I’d beat all of them.

Q: You offered Fanta to Tokugawa-san, didn’t you? A: He drank it in one go. I wonder if it was that good.

Q: Could it be you’re having taiyaki for the first time? A: Yeah. Why is it shaped like a fish? I’ll eat from the head side.

Q: Your suit is wonderful. Did you tie the necktie yourself? A: …How about not treating me like a kid? Well, I had it tied for me.

Q: Ah, suddenly a cat is clinging to Echizen-kun...! A: The Australian rep’s cat? There, there…

Fashion

“When we met by coincidence the other day, you were wearing a T-shirt with a strange design. What country’s brand was that?” (Yukimura)

“I’ll give you some hand-me-downs next time. But maybe they’ll be too big for you, Chibisuke?” (Ryouga)

“Koshimae is always wearing a cap! Lend it to me too!” (Tooyama)

“Basically I like clothes that are easy to move in. I guess I wear half-pants and shorts a lot.” (Echizen)

“Heeey Echizen! Are you wearing the socks we bought for color variation when we went shopping?” (Momoshiro)

Album

This is an album that happened to be in my backpack when I came to Australia. I think I got it after the nationals when I was leaving for America. Look at this and remember, they said. …But email and phones exist. Mada mada ne. 

Room

Looks like stuff from America has increased While I was gone, mom and the others have rearranged my room, and exchanged stuff like the TV for a new one. The stuff I was made to take to the camp has also increased. I always play tennis at home too, though, so I’m only in the room when I sleep.  

History

Age 0 December 24 Birth

Age 5 Eats his beloved dried kombu at home Lives together with Ryouga for a short while in Los Angeles During elementary school, wins American Jr. tournament 4 times in a row

Age 11 September Graduates from Los Angeles State Saint Youth Returns to Japan with his family Goes to an onsen for the first time, likes it too much, sticks to using a bathtub (*1)

Age 12 April Enters Seishun Gakuen's middle school department, becomes a regular in the tennis club At a family restaurant, orders a kid’s meal recommended by Momoshiro Victory at district preliminaries finals (Fudoumine), wins against Ibu in S2 Loses to Tezuka at the courts under the overpass

June In Tokyo prefectural quarterfinals (St. Rudolph), wins against Yuuta in S3 Victory of the tournament (Yamabuki), wins against Akutsu in S2 Struggles with classics at the end of term tests, study session at Fuji’s house

July In the first round of the Kantou regionals (Hyoutei), wins against Hiyoshi as the reserve player Second round (Midoriyama), wins against Kiraku in S3

July 24 Wins against Kirihara at a tennis club in Kanagawa

July 27 Tournament victory (Rikkai), wins against Sanada in S1

August 17 Nationals tournament second round (Higa), wins against Tanishi in S3

August 19 Quarterfinals (Hyoutei), wins against Atobe in S1 Semifinals (Shitenhouji), has a one point match with Tooyama that ends in a draw Drinks “Cola” in the yakiniku battle

August 21 Loses his memory during the training with Nanjirou in Karuizawa 

August 23 Nationals finals (Rikkai), arrives at the stadium by Atobe's helicopter Regains his memory through playing against his past rivals Wins against Yukimura in S1, wins the nationals championship

August 26 Goes to America

November Returns to Japan, participates in the U-17 camp Doesn’t play against Minami in the friendly-fire matches, loss Participates in the mountaintop training With Tanishi and Kenya, finds a secret passageway at the depths of the cave Protects Tokugawa, has to leave the camp; goes to America together with Ryouga Beats 24 American representative contenders, becomes an American representative Does BBQ with Kiko and Dudu, fries fish

December U-17 pre-world cup begins Faces Tube Republic, wins the first match U-17 world cup begins Match against Sweden, wins against their captain (*2) Calms his worries, returns to Japan’s team and becomes a representative Beats Aramenoma in an unofficial match Gets lost with Tooyama in the athlete village (*3) Quarterfinals (France), wins against the Prince in S3

TN:

*1 I don’t really understand the sentence fully, so this is a bit of a guess.

*2 In the magazine release, this match was against Denmark, but was changed into Sweden in the volume release. 

*3 Literally “becomes a lost child”.

#my translation #prince of tennis #new prince of tennis #echizen ryouma #echizen ryouga #tenipuri party

[yeet-or-be-hawed]

“Just friends Arthur Morgan x Reader”

I just want to thank @thomasscresswell for the request, I really enjoyed planning and writing this fic, I hope you enjoy it and I hope I was able to give you what you wanted!

When Arthur goes to see Mary, some hidden emotions bubble up and cause you to contemplate your feelings for him. Arthur doesn’t understand why you’re distant, and you don’t have the courage to tell him why.

I guess this would be closest to a fluff piece? Lots of inner monologue and and pining. 

The sun was breaking through the clouds, and the air was warm. Horseshoe Overlook was washed in golden sunbeams breaking through the trees, and everyone around camp was out and about, enjoying the first warm day of spring. You were sitting beside Arthur on his cot. “And then what happened?” You asked. Arthur was in the middle of telling you about his latest drunken brawl at the saloon in Valentine. “And then he hit me, the dumb bastard! He was lucky I wasn’t in the mood, I only gave him a black eye.”

You raise an eyebrow, “Are any of the men you fight lucky?”

“Lucky, when I’m drunk.” He says. You laugh and stand, stumbling around like a drunk, square up your fists, and give your best Arthur impression. “You...you tryna fight son?”

Arthur bursts into laughter. You stick your hands down into your empty holsters, and quickly draw your finger guns, “I’m Arthur By God Morgan and I’m gonna shoot at yer feet while you work to piss you off!” 

Arthur rolled, “That was one time!”

You laugh with him, and shove his shoulder. “It was twice ya bastard and ya know it. I’m about to go into town, you want to come with?”

Arthur caught his breath and wiped his eye, “Sure, Bill asked me to pick up some pomade for him. Don’t know why the lazy bastard can’t get it himself.”

“Bill needs pomade? Ha, okay. Sounds good, I’ll grab my things and meet you back here.” You say. 

“Sounds good.”

As you turn to walk back to your tent you nearly walk right into Karen. “Whoops! Sorry girl, just bringing around the mail. Two for you, and one for you Mr. Morgan.”you grabbed your mail and waved as you walked back to your tent, inspecting your parcels. One was from your cousin in Saint Denis, and the other was from an old gang member you used to run with in Armadillo. You sat on your bed as you read the letter from your cousin. She was your polar opposite; she married young to a wealthy shop owner in Saint Denis and lives life lavishly. Her hair and makeup always look flawless and wears dresses for every occasion. Her letter was casual and brief, updating you on her husband and two children. You always held a secret envy for her, so beautiful and without a care in the world.

You looked up just in time to see Arthur half running with his satchel towards his horse and mounting it. You sighed, Arthur could be so impatient sometimes. You left the letters on your bed and grabbed your hat and your pistol. You jogged over to your horse and began unhitching him. As you opened your mouth to make a smart remark his impatience, he cuts you off, “Change of plans, I need to  go now, I’ll catch you next time you go into town. Sorry, something important came up.”

He gave a swift jerk to his reigns and he was off. You felt a small pang of annoyance that he was blowing you off, but if Arthur says its important, then its important. Atleast, you thought. Now I can clean my gun before I go. When you got back to your tent, you pulled out your gun oil and a cloth. The pistol was old and worn, just like your hat. Both probably needed to be replaced, but you liked the wear and tear, it gave them character. The metal on your pistol had darkened rusted, no amount of cleaning could completely wash away the years of use. Your hat was on old stalker, the leather bleached and cracked from the sun and the weather. You had debated on getting a new one when you first got to Valentine, but you liked the way the hat conformed to your head. 

“...see how fast he left on his horse? I wonder what got him all in a tissy.” Mary-Beth said to Karen as they passed your tent.

“Well, between you and me the letter I gave him was from Mary. I didn’t stay long enough to see him read it but I hear...” the conversation faded as they continued. Your ears burned hot and anger was bubbling in your stomach. She was the reason he ditched you? One little letter and he loses his goddamned mind. You had never met Mary, nor had you ever even seen her but Arthur told you about her many times. It angered you how transparent she was, how she refused to take Arthur but insisted on reminding him how much she “cared.” How, you wondered can someone claim to care for you while also not loving you for your true self? You had tried to reason with him over this before but he would never hear of it. If that man was anything, it was stubborn. 

Can’t get any cleaner than this, you thought as you put your pistol in its holster. With a splash of cold water to the face, you were ready to go. You unhitched your horse and mounted him. “Good boy,” you cooed softly as you stroked his neck. “Yah!”

Your horse took off like a bullet through the trees. The ride felt longer this time, usually Arthur kept conversation while riding so it passed the time. Your mind kept shifting back to Arthur, what made her so special for him to leave so suddenly? But why should you care? If anything you should be happy for him, you knew how much her cared for her. But why did the thought of him coming back with her coming back with him on his arm make you so furious? Arthur was just your friend, your best friend actually. He didn’t tell you to wear dresses like Micah did, or tell you to smile like Bill did, or tell you how much better you would look if you did your makeup like the other girls did. He laughs at your jokes and enjoys your company, but that’s what friends do. But was it normal to think of your friend as handsome? You never tried to think of how handsome he was or how well his beard softened his hard jaw line. Nor did try to think how soft his hair was or how good he smelt. And you most certainly didn’t try notice how tight his new black and white pin striped vest was over his chest and stomach. Oh God, you think to yourself. You really are a fool.

As you enter Valentine, the streets are bustling with mid day activity. As you tether your horse near the general store, a man passing you on horseback tips his hat, “that’s a nice steed ya got there Ms.”

You nod and tip your hat politely. It was nice to be in civilization again, and to see new faces. Arthur swore the people in this town were made of piss and vinegar, but it’s hard to be on a town’s good side when you’ve drunkly fought half the population.

The bell above the door chimed as you entered and the shop keep looked up, “Welcome, come on in. Let me know if there’s anything I can help you with.” 

“Thanks partner.” You grabbed the pomade, a chocolate bar, and some oatcakes for your horse from the wall. “Just these for now.” The shop keep nods, rings you out, and sends you on your way. As you exit, you look around the town for something to do. 

You see the hotel, and look at your reflection in the window. You were covered with dirt and your hair was stuck to your cheeks and necks from sweat. Could definitely use a bath, you think as you cross the street and walk up the steps. “Hello, friend! What can I interest you in today?” The owner of the hotel was husky and his cheeks were pink. 

“A bath please.” 

“Coming right up! It’ll be the last door on your left.” You tipped your hat and smiled at him as you passed him.

The small room was steamy and warm, you undressed quickly and immersed yourself in the warm bubbly water. You felt all the tension from your muscles melt away as your body slid into the hot water. A small knock rapped at the door and a pretty red head stuck her head in. “Need any help sweetie?”

“That would be great, thank you!” You always enjoyed talking to the women who worked at the hotels, it was nice to have a normal conversation with other women. She made small talk as she scrubbed your arms and legs, “there, now we can see ya under that layer of dirt, what a beauty! You got any fellas hot on the chase for ya?”

“Nah, I’m not interested in the ones that would have me and the one I would isn’t interested.” You close your eyes as she soaks your hair and lightly scrubs your scalp.

“Well, I think he’s makin’ a big mistake.” She said with a smile. You didn’t know what to say other than a feeble thank you. She kissed your forehead, “if you ask me, yer a fine catch. You’re clean as a whistle now, have a good rest of your day.” With a wink she left. You sighed and lifted yourself from the water, your body protesting against the sudden chill. You grabbed the towel and began drying your body and hair. You noticed a mirror in the corner and looked over yourself. You had definitely lost some weight since Blackwater and your wounds had turned to pink scars. Your skin was littered with scars big and small, but somehow you were lucky enough to have a smooth face, completely scar free. You dressed yourself and put on your hat as you walked out the door and waved goodbye to the owner. Before unhitching your horse you pulled an oatcake from your satchel and fed it to him. As you mounted your saddle, something brightly colored caught your eye. In the window of a dress shop was a bright yellow dress freckled with little red and blue flowers. It had more frills than a fish had fins and a giant gaudy skirt. Looking at it, you wondered when the last time you wore a dress even was. You laughed at yourself, what would the other girls think if they saw you looking at that dress? You lightly pushed your spurs into your horse, and you were headed home.

It was now evening time, the sun was setting over the mountains, streaking the sky with orange and pink. You had just arrived back in camp and hitched your horse. “Perfect timing, Y/N, just in time for my delicious cooking!” Called Pearson.

“I wouldn’t call it delicious Mr. Pearson, I would barely call it food!” You joked as you fell in line in front of the big stew pot. After waiting patiently, you recieved your stew and went to sit at the fire. John, Bill, and Javier were all seated close to the fire. As you walked past Bill, you dropped the tin in his lap. “Did someone order pomade?”

Bill stuck it in his pocket, “yeah, but I asked lazy ass Morgan to get it, not you. Where is that bastard anyways?”

“Didn’t you hear?” Karen said standing behind you. “Arthur’s off flirting around with that Mary again. Shot outta here faster than a bullet this morning after receiving a letter from her.”

Your stomach dropped, you had almost forgotten about that. Bill snorted, “Figures. I’m breaking my back around here and he’s off running around with some tramp.”

This made you laugh, “and what exactly have you been breaking your back doin’ Bill? I ain’t seen you do much besides sleep and dig out your ass.”

“Well you cain’t be seeing too much when you’re too busy staring at Morgan all day!” Bill snapped back.

You prayed the fire wasn’t bright enough to show your face turning red. You sputtered and quickly changed the subject. “All I’m seeing is a big bastard who owes me money. Now cough it over ya big oaf.”

“Gimme a break woman, Jesus!” He stood and hobbled over to his bed roll, grabbed his money clip, and returned. He slapped the money into your hand. “You can have a break when you’re dead, darlin’.” You gave him a hard slap on the back as you stood and disposed of your dishes. You settled into your tent and opened your bottle of gin. You found yourself looking towards the wooded entrance of camp. The later it got, the more you began to worry. He left this morning, he should be back by now. It’s getting dark he’s usually back by now. Unless he’s in trouble, or unless he-oh. You took a long swing of alcohol. I would be spending the night too if I were him.

It was fully dark, and you were fully drunk. Most of the others had gone to bed except for the usual late nighters. Arthur still hadn’t returned and you doubted he would until tomorrow. Hell, you were even starting to doubt if he would even come back. The thought caused a lump to rise in your throught. Were you really that disposable to him? Did you really matter that little? Or did she just matter that much?

Your eyes were growing heavy and your mind was slowly fogging. After dozing off twice, you decide it’s time for bed.

The next morning you awoke to the sound of Grimshaw cursing Mary-Beth and Karen, and that was your cue to go ahead and be up before she could make it to your tent. You were thankful for those two, if anything they were your personal alarm clock. With a stretch you looked through your wardrobe. You pulled out a pair of work pants, a button down, and a vest. Most of your clothes were hand me downs from the other men around camp, but you were slowly able to buy your own clothes. You weren’t quite used to the snugness of women’s blouses and vests, but after your bath and a new set of clothes, you felt a little more confident. You threw your hair into a quick braid and topped it off with your hat.

You spent most of the day working around the camp and hauling in the liquor for Sean’s party. The day passed quickly, and before you knew it, the sun was already setting. You were hauling a hay bale to the feeding pins when Ms. Grimshaw walked up, “come on girl, you’ve done enough work today come have a drink.”

You wiped the sweat from your brow and nodded, “coming!” With Susan’s approval you pulled out a bout of liquor and began to party with the rest. The night began to blur as your liquor intake increased, and by nightfall you were as drunk as a skunk.

Arthur hitched his horse, and gave her a quick pat on the neck. He was exhausted. Between the emotional turmoil of seeing Mary, dealing with Jamie, and the lack of sleep from camping the night before, Arthur was ready to hit the bed. He made it halfway to his tent when he heard the group by the fire begin singing. Javier had his guitar, half the camp surrounded him singing drunkly, but one voice caught his attention. He smiled when he saw you, piss drunk and smiling big. You barely knew the words but you were singing louder than the rest. He couldn’t help but let out a chuckle when you grabbed Hosea’s hands and tried spinning him, both of you crashing to the ground. He felt his cheeks warm when your eyes met his and he gave a small wave. It took you a couple of tries to get up, but when you were on your feet, much to Arthur’s delight, you stumbled right towards him, turning your bottle to the sky and chugging. You spread your arms out wide, “I’m Arthur and I’m drunk!” You said loudly and laughed. Arthur stood to meet you in the middle. He put his arm around your waist to help you walk when you got to his cot, he moved his hand from your back to your hand for support. “I dunno, I think you’re drunker than I am.” He couldn’t help but notice that you were still holding his hand.

“Nooooooo, you’re drunk.” You say as you lean against his shoulder. “I forgot, I’m also mad at you.” You bopped his nose at the “You.” Arthur tried not to laugh, “mad at me? And why is that?”

Your face was buried into his shoulder, your response was quiet and muffled. “What did you say?”

No response. You had passed out face first in his shoulder. Arthur tried to shake you awake, but you were out. With a sigh, he picked you up and carried you to your tent. He tried to ignore the whistles and the taunts from the drunken men as he crossed camp. He laid you down on your cot, and kissed your forehead. “G’night darlin’.”

Arthur made his way back to his tent, and his heart didn’t feel quite as heavy as it did before.

You woke up with your head pounding and still a little drunk from the night before. Your stomach churned, disagreeing with the alcohol you had ingested the night before. You sat up quickly and ran out of your tent, vomiting on the ferns growing beside your tent. You heard a familiar voice behind you. “Mornin’.” You gave Arthur a groan without facing him, hands on your knees.

“Not feelin’ so hot this morning I take it?” You felt a heavy hand on your back and see another hand stretch down to offer you a mug of coffee.

You quickly push it away before upheaving more liquor. You heard Arthur put down the mug and feel his hands swept your hair back. “I gotcha.” He said softly.

After clearing all the toxic liquid from your stomach you straightened your back and faced Arthur. He looked handsome as ever and you looked like piece of scum that just got brushed out of a saloon. You cleared your throat. “Thanks. When did you get back?”

Arthur furrowed his brow, “last night, you don’t remember?”

“Not much after the second bottle of gin.” You rubbed your temples, your head felt like it was about to explode.

“Well, I got back late, you were dancin’ and singin’, fallin’ all over the place, then passed out on me.”

Oof, that’s embarrassing. You rubbed your neck, “shit Arthur, I’m sorry. I don’t even remember the sun going down.” You laughed weakly.

“No, you’re fine. You also said you were mad at me. Did I do something to upset you?” He looked concerned.

Your cheeks flushed. “I-oh. Um, it was nothing. Anyways I should probably go.” You turned away quickly.

“Oh, okay. Well how about I take you in to town later to make up for yesterday?” He called to you. You didn’t respond. This struck Arthur as strange, he was certain you heard him.

The next few weeks were awkward to say the least. You tried to distance yourself from Arthur, trying to keep your feelings at bay and Arthur couldn’t understand why you were keeping him out. After a few days of silence, it grew unbearable. You would catch him looking at you as he passed and quickly look away. Maybe you were being unfair to him, he shouldn’t have to lose you as a friend just because he went and saw a girl once. She never came back with him, and he never brought her up. This has sparked hope, hope that he wasn’t interested in her. Time went on and your relationship with Arthur healed, and even grew. After he was kidnapped, he changed. He was softer and looked at you with a tenderness that melted your heart. When you were alone together deep in conversation, you would feel his fingers start to brush yours, and once even while you were both drunk, he held your hand for hours while you talked and laughed.

You were leaving the gun shop in Saint Denis when you heard a struggle down an alley, “get off me, get the hell off of me you pervert, help! Please someone help me!” He voice grew shrill and more desperate, you quickly grabbed your shotgun off your horse and dipped into the alley. A beautiful woman with black hair was being cornered by a drunk old man. You cocked your gun. “Touch her and I’ll paint those walls with your brains.”

He turned slowly, “listen toots, this is between me and the lady, now you ca-“

You shot a warning shot at his feet. “I suggest it’s high time you rolled on outta here, mister.” The man ran into the shadows and you whistled for your horse. You approached the woman slowly, “it’s okay, he’s gone. You’re safe now. Did he touch you?”

The girl was on the verge of crying, she shook her head no. You led her out of the narrow alley and mounted your horse. “Would you mind if I took you home? I’ll keep ya safe.” You offered a hand to her, and she took it. She was so petite and her skin was flawless. Her black hair had been pinned in a bun. She gave you the directions to where she was staying, it wasn’t far. As you stopped in front of the building, you got off your horse first to help her down.

Something about you was so familiar to her. She racked her brain as she took your hand and let you pull her off the horse. Even your style was familiar. Nicely tailored trousers, a fitted button down, and a brand new vest, all new looking clothes but a rag tag stalker hat that you kept to cover your eyes. “Okay miss, stay safe out there.” When you tipped your hat and turned back to your horse, it hit her. As she watched you ride away, she thought of the outlaw she once loved.

When you arrived back at Shady Belle, you were immediately greeted by Dutch. “Y/N, I need you and Arthur to go into Saint Denis and get yourselves some decent clothes for the mayor’s party. Arthur, make sure you don’t get them dirty before you wear them this time, and Y/N, no trousers. You’re either in a dress or Karen is taking your place.” You scoff, “but I’m the better shot! Come on Dutch, what if they’re nice pants?”

“It’s formal dress code, so dress or nothing you decide.” You roll your eyes. Arthur had already gotten his horse ready to go.

“My horse is going to need a break before I take him back out, I rode into him pretty hard today.” You said as you dismount your horse.

“Here, we can take my horse and leave yours here to rest.” Arthur offered you a hand. You took it and were surprised how easily he was able to help you into his horse. You wrapped your arms around his waist. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

Arthur’s horse shot off and you clung to him tightly. He smiled to himself when he felt you rest your head against his back. You were a very physically affectionate person, always touching or scratching his back or playing with his hair. Arthur was comfortable enough with you to allow the touching and even though he would never admit it, he loved every moment your skin touched his. He loved when you would casually lean your head against his shoulder when you got tired during your late night conversations. Arthur could talk to you, really talk to you and know you would understand.

You reached the stable and he slid off the saddle first to offer you a hand. “Such a gentleman!” You said teasingly.

Arthur gave a deep dramatic bow, “only for you my lady.”

You laughed and punched him in the arm. Arthur never showed this side of himself to anyone else as far as you knew. Over the months, you’ve even noticed Mary-Beth has been quite jealous of your relationship with him. You couldn’t help but feel a tinge of smugness.

You stayed a foot step ahead of Arthur as you walked to the tailor. When you got to the door, it turned into an all out race. He almost beat you to it, but you practically dived for it and swung it open a little too hard. “After you, my lady.” You proclaim loudly. “Ha ha, very funny.” He responds with a smile. The inside was lined with dressss, blouses, tuxes, and other luxurious clothes. The tailor cleared his throat, “Welcome, how may I help you today?”

“The lady needs a new dress and I’m in need of a nice suit. Think you can help us out?”

The tailor came around from his desk, measuring tape in hand. “Who’s first?”

Before you could protest, Arthur give you a light shove, “the lady wants to go first!”

“Excellent! I’ve got all the latest styles, I happen to know exactly which dress you’ll look exquisite in!”

You turned to shoot Arthur daggers and he was stifling a laugh. “Make sure she tries on every one, I want to see them all!” He calls out.

To your great embarrassment, the tailor holds to Arthur’s word. Each hideous dress after the other, you walked out with a big frown just to be greeted by a howling Arthur. You were starting to wonder if the tailor really knew what he was talking about. After a hideous blue puff ball of a dress, you frowned when you saw the exact same dress waiting for you in the fitting rooms, in an even uglier shade of green. With a sigh of frustration you peek under the around the fitting room door. “Arthur,” you loudly whisper. “Arthur!” He was sitting in a chair fiddling his thumbs waiting for you to come out in your next dress. You rolled your eyes, kicked off your boot, and threw it at him. It caught his attention alright, it caught him right in the stomach. “Damn it woman, what?”

You motioned for him to come here. He stood and walked to your fitting room. You still had the last dress on, you opened the door. “Look at what this son of a bitch wants me to try on next.”

He peeks into the room and laughs. You slapped his chest, “Arthur this is serious! I can’t wear any of this, please go pick something out!”

He raised his eyebrows, “me? Why me?”

“You know me better than this fool! Just grab something, anything is better than this garbage.”

He shook his head, “fine fine! I saw one in the window that was real nice.”

“Then go get the tailor to grab it, hurry!” You shooed him on. After a few minutes of pacing in the fitting room impatiently, you hear a knock at your door. “Decent” you respond, and a hand holding a beautiful lilac dress slides through the half opened door. You grabbed it quickly and slid out of the monstrosity you had tried on before. This dress didn’t have quite so much tulle and the fabric was much softer on your skin. You turned to the mirror and examined the dress. It was tighter around your waist with an A line skirt and a neck line a little lower than you were used to. Lace accented the neck line and sleeves of the dress. It was simple and elegant and to be honest, this was the prettiest you had ever felt. You opened the fitting room door, “I think we have a winner, what do you think Arthur?”

He was no longer seated in his chair, he was now looking at the three piece suits for himself. He turned and smiled, “well don’t you just look like a little flower?”

You blushed, “okay fair enough, I’ll try on another.”

“No no, I like this one. It suits you.”

You smiled and nodded. After changing back into your day clothes it was now Arthur’s turn to model his clothes for you. The first suit was was a powder blue with a stripped shirt underneath. He walked out, and immediately said, “no.”

You laughed, “oh but Arthur, you look so....sophisticated!”

He turned to you as he opened this fitting room door, “you’ll catch me dead before you catch me in something like this.”

The next was a brown suit, it was nice, but it didn’t stand out to either of you. Apparently three was the lucky number, when he came out in the third suit, your heart stopped. It was a black three piece suit with a red cumberbund. He walked out as he was adjusting his jacket and looked up at you, “so?”

He looked incredibly handsome and your mind was jammed, all you could do was look at him. You cleared your throat, “yeah that one is definitely the best one I’ve seen so far.”

Arthur was standing in front of the mirror turning as he inspected the suit, “yeah, I think you’re right.”

As he went back to the dressing room, you stood and took your dress to the front counter to pay. “Oh no miss, the fellow you’re with has already paid for it.” You blushed, that man could be so sneaky, you never even saw him go to the register. A small smile curled up on your lips. “I think we’re going to go with the black three piece he just tried on, I’ll go ahead and pay for his.”

You jumped as you felt a hand on your shoulder. “Oh no you don’t.” Arthur was behind you holding his suit. He held up the red cummerbund. “You got one of these that would match the lady’s dress?”

“I believe so, let me check I’ll be right back.” The small man disappeared around the corner and came back with a perfect match. “Here we go! What a sight the two of you are going to be, such a lovely couple!”

Arthur glances at you and you quickly looked away, trying to hide the pink in your cheeks. Arthur paid for his suit and you left. “Anything else you want to do while we’re in town?” You asked.

“The day’s still early I’m sure we can find something to do.” As you moved along the busy streets, you felt Arthur’s hand gently settle on your lower back. He held it there as you whisked through shops, joking and laughing. The way he would smile at you and the way his head would tilt back to laugh at your jokes made your heart feel so light. You took a snack break for some popcorn from a street vendor. You sat on a bench and he put a lazy arm around you and you leaned in against his shoulder while you shared your bag of popcorn. You had a piece of popcorn halfway to your mouth when you caught him staring at you. With a sly smile, you quickly threw the piece of popcorn at his face. “Hey!” He said as he reached in the bag and pulled out another piece. “No wasting popcorn!” He said as he threw the piece at you. This started a ridiculous popcorn fight, the people passing by you stared while you childishly threw popcorn at eachother on the bench, laughing like a couple of idiots. About half the bag ended up on the ground. “Well, atleast the birds will get their share.” You said as you stood, “come on, let’s get back.”

Arthur nodded, and wrapped his arm around your waist. You could feel him looking at you but you didn’t dare look back, you were all too aware of his hand on your waist, gripping you firmly. As you walked down the street talking and laughing you heard a familiar voice call from a balcony over head. “Arthur? Arthur!” You both turned to see the beautiful woman with dark hair that you met earlier that day. She turned to quickly run down to meet you.

You smiled, “hey that’s-“

“Mary” Arthur whispered breathlessly. His big hand left your waist as he looked whistfully up at the balcony. He removed his hat and nervously fiddled with the brim. He eyes were filled with desire and nervousness. She burst through the door, just as beautiful as ever. You looked down at the ground. “I’ll uh...I’ll leave you to it then.”

Your heart had dropped to your feet, and he didn’t respond. How could you be so stupid? All this time, you allowed yourself to push her from your mind and think maybe, just maybe you had a chance. You wandered to the closest saloon.

Arthur’s pulse raced as he waited for Mary to come down. He couldn’t help but smile when she came out the door and hugged him. She was so small and soft in his arms. “Hello, Mary.”

“Hello Arthur.” She gave him a smile. “That girl you were with, where did she go?”

Arthur looked around confused, you were just here. He didn’t even notice you had left. “I don’t know, she was just here.”

“She saved me earlier this morning. This man he tried-“ She shuttered. “He tried to take me and she stopped him. I must’ve known she was riding with you, she reminded me so much of you. Shame what a life like that does to a pretty girl. She’d be so much prettier if she-”

“If she what?” Arthur interrupted. His voice was harsher than he intended, “if she lived like you and looked down on me?” His face was hot, he didn’t know what came over him.

“No Arthur, no! That’s not what I meant, it’s just...”

Arthur sighed. “It’s just our way of life isn’t pretty to you.”

Mary looked away, and for the first time Arthur felt like he truly saw her. The rose tinted glasses were lifted and all of a sudden, Mary didn’t seem so pretty anymore. It was obvious she would never change just as he would. She turned back and grabbed his hands. “Arthur, run away with me. Leave all that nonsense behind. We can run away together and lead new lives.”

“All I got to do is change who I am entirely and leave all the people I care for behind, is that it?”

Mary smiled, “but you’ll have me. Isn’t that enough Arthur?”

It used to be, he thought. But now? “Mary, could you ever love me for who I am, right now? If I asked you to join me, come with me back to camp and live your life with me and my family, what would you say?”

Her faced twisted, “Arthur, that’s not what I want for myself, not what I want for us. Wouldn’t it be better to leave all of that behind?”

He could see the disgust in her face at the idea of living his life. It should’ve hurt him more than it did, but it almost was a relief. He felt like a blind man who’s sight had been restored. He had so many friends who cared for him and loved him for him, why waste his time on someone who couldn’t even accept his way of life? It felt almost too easy as he put on his hat and turned away from her, “goodbye Mary. I can’t waste my time on someone who looks down on me.”

“Arthur wait!” She pleases behind him, he didn’t care. He could never see her again and be perfectly happy. Now he just had to find where you ran off to.

You were sulking at the bar, downing shots like it was no body’s business. “N’other one Down here” your words were beginning to slur. The bartender filled your shot glass and you turned it up. No matter how much whiskey you drank, you couldn’t shake feeling like a fool. You almost let yourself believe today was a date, you almost fooled yourself into thinking he was over her, but what made you feel like the biggest fool, was how easily you allowed yourself to fall for him. You knew he was still in love with Mary and you knew you never stood a chance. You grimaced was you thought of her. So beautiful, how could you even compare? You didn’t. You felt a hand fall on your shoulder, “warn me next time before you run off like that.” That hurt, “I did.” You said flatly. You raise a finger to the barkeep and he made you another shot. Arthur sat beside you and ordered one as well. He was looking at you but you stared down at the bar. How could you let this happen again?

“Oh.” The bartender brought you both your shots and you knocked it back quickly. The silence was heavy. Arthur cleared his throat. “Anything else you’d like to do while we’re in town?”

You shook your head. All you wanted to do was be alone. “Okay then, I guess we’ll head home.” Arthur stood and extended his hand. You laid the money down for your drinks and pulled yourself off the stool. You walked past Arthur, leaving him with his hand extended awkwardly. He cleared his throat again and followed you silently. “Everything okay?” He asked. His voice was worried.

“Fine.” You responded. The walk back to the stable was quiet. Arthur tried to put his hand on the small of your back, but you recoiled away from it.

This hurt Arthur. You were rarely this quiet and you wouldn’t even look at him. He racked his brain to try to understand what he had done. Had he made you uncomfortable when he touched you? You never seemed to have a problem with it before. He tried to make small talk, but you would either answer with short responses or ignore him completely.

You waited outside the stable while Arthur retrieved his horse. When he offered you his hand to help you up, you pushed it away and pulled yourself up on the horse. It’s not like you needed the help, and Arthur knew that.

The ride was completely silent. Your hands were very loose on his sides, you tried to keep as little physical contact as possible. Arthur noticed and felt a lurch in his chest. He was still racking his mind trying to identify what had upset you. When you got back to camp, you slid off his horse silently and retreated to your tent without a word. Arthur watched you as he tethered his horse. With a heavy sigh, he decided you just needed to be alone for awhile. He entered the old house and made his way to his room. His window looked out over the tents and he looked for you. Your tent flaps were closed, which was very rare. You were usually so open, even in bad moods you left your tent flaps open to let in the air and nod at the others as they walked past. Arthur threw himself down on the bed.

Much to Arthur’s disappointment, you still distant and cold over the next few days. Any time you saw him coming your way, you turned and quickly found something to do or someone to talk to. You had decided it was best that you cut him out completely. It was too late for you to live in the delusion that you could still be friends. It was too hard to watch him fall over himself for her, and you were too far gone to even try to lie to yourself about your feelings for him.

On day four with no contact, Arthur could feel his disappointment turn to frustration. It would be so much easier if he knew what was bothering you, he could atleast try to fix whatever it was he had done if you would atleast tell him what it was. He was sipping his morning coffee when Karen came around with the mail. “One for you today, Mr. Morgan!” He thanked her and took his parcel. As she turned to leave Arthur stood, “Karen, hold on a second.”

“Yes?” She said as she turned back.

“Do you know what’s wrong with Y/N? She’s been so quiet the last few days and I don’t know why.”

Karen knew exactly why. “I’m not sure Mr. Morgan, maybe you should ask her yourself.” She turned and walked away. How could he do that if you wouldn’t even give him the time of day? He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. With a sigh, he looked to your tent. He was in luck, you were sitting on your cot reading a book. Something stirred inside him and he felt himself becoming quite nervous as he approached you.

You were brought back to reality from the depths of your reading by the clearing of someone’s throat. You looked up to see Arthur standing in front of your tent. You looked at him then looked back down at your book. “Hello.” You said flatly.

Arthur sighed and sat beside you on your cot. He sat very close to you, close enough that you could feel his body heat. After a moment of silence he spoke. “What’s wrong?”

You didn’t look up from your book. “Nothing.”

Arthur could feel his frustration rising, he had to fight the urge to smack the book from your hands just so you would look at him. “Would you just-“ he felt his voice rise, and he moved to close the flaps of your tent. This was a private conversation and god knows if Karen or Mary-Beth over heard, half the camp would be up his ass. “Please,” He said in a quiet voice. “Please tell me what I did to upset you.”

The pleading of his voice caused you to look up at him, his hat was covering his eyes and he was looking at the ground. You sighed. “It’s nothing, really.”

“No,” Arthur said as he moved to you. “It’s more than nothin’ or you wouldn’t be giving me the silent treatment.”

You didn’t know what to say, you couldn’t just tell him, but it broke your heart to see him in distress over you. “Arthur, I... I didn’t think you would care.”

“Didn’t think I would care? Y/N, you’re the closest friend I have here. Why would I not care? You’ve been ignoring me for days. What did I do?” He sat back down beside you. When you looked at him, he was staring back, his eyes swimming with concern and sadness.

“Nothing.” You repeated. You had to stay aloof, you had to keep him at a distance.

“Well it has to be something. And I’m not leaving here until you tell me what.” He crosses his arms stubbornly.

You groaned. “Really Arthur? Why is it so important to you?”

“Because you’re important to me! Damn it, ever since we saw Mary you just-“ you immediately looked away, your face burning. Arthur looked at you confused, and a memory resurfaced. He thought back to the night he returned from the first time he went and saw Mary. You drunkenly declares you were mad at him, when asked why you mumbled your response into his shoulder. This had happened before, and now that he thought about it, really thought about it, the only other time you had been like this was after he saw Mary. “Why were you mad at me that night? The night of Sean’s party?” His voice was low.

You shook your head. “I don’t- I was drunk Arthur, you know I wasn’t serious.” You were a bad liar and he knew it.

“You werent...jealous were you?” The words felt silly as they fell out of his mouth. Why would you be jealous, it’s not like you thought of him more than a friend?

You stammered, your whole face blood red. “No no I just-“

Arthur smiled, “you’re a bad liar and you know it. Were you jealous?” He repeated. He took your hand softly, “because if you were, you have no need to be.” He smiled down at your hand and gently carressed it with his fingers. They were rough, like his.

You looked at him and swallowed. “So what if I was?”

“If you were,” He looked up at you. “I’d tell you that there’s nothing to worry about. I’d tell you how I have no need for a girl like her. I’d rather have the woman who accepts me for who I am. The one who makes me laugh and does silly impressions of me. Even when she does get a little too drunk.” He smiled at you sheepishly.

Your heart rose into your throat. “I...I don’t know what to say.”

“ you don’t have to say nothin’.” He opened his arms for you and you smiled. You leaned into his arms and he wrapped him around you tenderly. “Just stay here with me.” He whispered in your ear.

You closed your eyes and leaned into his chest. “I’m not going anywhere.” You respond. He placed a soft kiss on your temple and you swore you saw stars. This was what happiness felt like, you told yourself. And in that moment, you knew you would do whatever it takes to keep it safe and protected.

#arthur morgan #arthur x reader #arthur morgan x reader #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #fan fic #mary linton #fluff #jealous #Van Der Linde Gang

[newagesispage]

                                                                            JUNE    2020

PAGE RIB

FX and Ryan Murphy will bring us season 10 of American Horror Story next year. The cast includes Mac Culkin, Kathy Bates, Sarah Paulson, Evan peters, Billie Lourd, Lily Rabe and Finn Wittrock. There will also be a spinoff called, wait for it, American Horror Stories. Woo Hoo!!

*****

Reno 911 is back

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I happen to have a clementine in my butt. –Jimmy Kimmel

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NASA got their dragon launch. It is unfortunate that they had to compete with the current cycle.

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Sam Springsteen (son of Patti and Bruce) has been sworn in as a Jersey City firefighter.

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Ryan Murphy’s Hollywood is great. I don’t know how to feel about the fast and the loose and the nice made up endings like Once upon a time in Hollywood.  Will this be a trend??** Another great one on Netflix is, Have a good trip.

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Are there biopics in the works for Michael and Janet Jackson, Whitney Houston, the Bee Gees and Bowie?? That is the word.

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Days alert: Look for Lani to become pregnant. Eli and Justin are both thinking marriage. Claire is back which will bring Shawn and Belle back. Gabi may be kidnapped. Word is that July will have a wedding every week that will lead to a funeral.  Allie Horton is all grown up and heading back with a secret. Will she be like Mom, Sami?? Brady thinks that ruining Titan will get back at Victor. Sonny and Will may get a chance at another child. Eve may be back later in the summer. And, C’mon Xander, do something wonderful to get your woman back. Lucas may be on the way back and Orpheus is leaving. ** Judi Evans (Adrienne) had a serious horseback riding accident on May 16. She had broken ribs, a collapsed lung and 2 chipped vertebrae. The good news was in the hospital they discovered a blood clot so the whole thing saved her life.

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Morton Buildings is being sued by 2 women for harassment and discrimination. One incident claims an employee said, “God created women by lining up all the men and castrating the stupid ones.” Another lawsuit was filed in 2009.**Thanks for the tip, Di.

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If you expect elementary school children to endure the trauma of active shooter drills for your freedoms, you can wear a mask to Costco. –Sara Elizabeth Dill

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House republicans have sued Pelosi to block proxy voting.

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Seth Rogan, Steve Carell and Ben Schwartz are donating funds to bailout Minneapolis protestors after the death of George Floyd.** The country has been turned upside down as another cop kills another black man. No need to rehash, we have all seen it. I wonder if those four horrible cops are proud of what they have done to their city. Could we finally have a tipping point in this time when racism is spotlighted with our racist President? After many incidents in just the past couple of weeks and everyone on edge with coronavirus, it has boiled over. Scary Clown threatens to start shooting as Minneapolis burns down. Burn down a police station, get a cop arrested (finally)? Seems worth it to me. The way the killer looked into the camera as if he was just so proud is gonna stick with us as it should.  ** A CNN crew were arrested live on the air but released later after Jeff Zucker spoke to Gov. Walz.**  Liberate Minnesota was the Trump tweet, well, they are working on it.** I am hearing people saying in all sincerity lately that it is time for the humans to go, we are ruining each other and the planet.

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If you have not seen the Killer Mike speech from Atlanta, you need to check it out.** Netflix, Hulu and Paramount are taking a stand and showing support for the Black lives matter movement.

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John Cusack put out video of police coming at him with batons and pepper sprayed him as he protested in Chicago. More than 1000 were arrested and it continues.** In Flint, Sheriff Chris Swanson and other police put down helmets and joined the protestors. Police in Schenectady took a knee and joined the march. The behavior is spreading and look what a difference it makes, could they be starting to get it?

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Never thought I’d say this but in light of everything that is happening, the DNC made a big mistake in not backing Berne Sanders. –Pete Buttigieg ** Ok, first, of course he is right but you helped set this all in motion. It is a bit late for that …or is it? Biden is not the OFFICIAL nom, the deal is not done yet. Will Bernie jump back in the race?? Perhaps we will soon see BERNE FOR PRESIDENT again.

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American carnage was a self -fulfilling prophecy, alas. –Susan Glasser

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Scary Clown 45 has designated Antifa a terrorist organization. ** There is no legal authority for designating a domestic group, any such designation would raise significant concerns. –ACLU

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In any season, police violence is an injustice, but its harm is elevated amidst the remarkable stress people are facing amidst covid-19. Even now, there is evidence of excessive police initiated force and unwarranted shootings of civilians, some of which have been fatal. –American Medical Association.

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Washington Week had a great discussion about how all the ills in US history have played out in 2020. Impeachment, pandemic, depression and civil unrest are all here at once.

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Word is that Trevor Noah has been proven much more popular than the other late night hosts since they have been at home.

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I predict the picture of the upside down flag with the backdrop of the burning liquor store will be the lasting image of the Trump Presidency.

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This is the Presidency George Wallace never had. –Max Boot

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Spanish flu, Polio, Aids, Covid-19: Why don’t people get any smarter? The masses (and sometimes those in charge) can get it wrong over and over again. From Dr.? Phil and Dr Oz and their cavalier attitude toward death to Rosie wanting her son to take a leave of absence from the grocery store, we just do not learn. Even before that, I can’t forget the woman who wanted to change her vote after she found out Buttigieg was married to a man. Is she even a dem? Do your research people! Respect others, people!! Have compassion, stop being so selfish and use your brains!!** Puerto Rico was a pre curser to the pandemic response.

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Amy Cooper Chris Cooper? WTF? Another liberal who is not really liberal.

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Crime in general is down and police shootings are up. And yes, now the opportunists are out of control and anger is boiling over but protests against police brutality causing police brutality is WRONG!

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Check out the book, What makes a marriage last, from Marlo Thomas and Phil Donahue.

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Ben Taub, Barry Blitt and Colson Whitehead have won the Pulitzer Prize.

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Word is that Nick Cage will play Joe Exotic of Tiger King fame. Of course he will.

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I refuse to wear a mask because God did not have us born with one.- Nino Vitali** How many people have you heard say, “The President isn’t wearing a mask, so I don’t have to.”

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It looks like Apple will partner with Paramount for Scorsese’s adaptation of Killers of the Flower Moon.

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Oh my: Scary Clown is having a twitter feud with twitter!  He has to, of course, lash out and now signs an executive order targeting social media. He is going on about section 230 which gives immunity to social media companies against being sued over content.  It could curb liability protection. Experts say it will only encourage lawsuits because he does not want to be edited.

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If Native American tribes were counted as states, the five most infected states in the US would all be native tribes. –Nicholas Kristof

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Did ya see that Jeff Epstein doc from James Patterson. It is lays blame in all directions. Why does it seem like all these old guys on there with all that money have such yellow teeth?

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Lindsey Graham is urging Federal judges in their mid to late 60’s to step down so they can fill the spots with republicans.

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Richard McGuire tried to live at Disney World in a zoological park that was closed down.

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Caterpillar, Levi, Black and Decker and others have cut jobs but gave millions to shareholders.

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Axl Rose and Steve Mnuchin had a twitter feud.

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China announced plans to introduce a National Security law in Hong Kong. The law enables mainland Chinese National security agencies to operate in the city for the first time. Using a rarely used constitutional method, they bypassed Hong Kong legislature. Since the former British colony became a semi-autonomous region of China more than 20 years ago, they have manages its own affairs. The law will affect media, education, politics and international business. Many acts will now be criminalized. Hong Kong is party to international treaties guaranteeing civil liberties that China is not. The U.S. is urging Bejing to reconsider. Pro- democracy demonstrators in Hong Kong were tear gassed as they yelled, “Liberate Hong Kong, revolution of our times.”

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The Michael Flynn charges were dropped.

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Holyoke soldier’s home in Massachusetts lost 70 souls to Coronavirus. AP photographer David Goldman got a projector and cast big pictures the vets onto the homes of loved ones. Each one had a story including one vet who was sent to Nuremberg to guard Nazis. He claimed to have filled Hermann Goring’s glass with toilet water.

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The swimming Dinosaur, Spinosaurus has been getting a lot of attention.  The Sahara desert which was once massive rivers kept the first intact aquatic dinosaur.  With a snout, teeth and jaw like a croc, it is so far the only known kind of dinosaur that lived in the water.  The 50 foot long bizarre fin-like tail is like a giant paddle.  Paleontologists encourage others to have a look at other fossils to see if there are more.

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Octavia Spencer is said to have been telling everyone she is a year younger than she is. She is turning 50.

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The $69 million ventilator scam. Really? The White House heard from a guy who told them he could supply the product so the WH told NY to order them and stood behind the guy but it was a scam. Scary Clown sure loves his shady people, intentional or not.** A Florida woman, Rebecca Jones claims that she was asked to fudge the numbers to make reopening look better. ** Georgia moved their dates around on a graph to make their cases seem flattened. ** For 17 months, Florida investigated voter fraud for Trump and Gov. Scott. They found NOTHING!!

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Amazon stock price is up 25% yet they have become notorious for the terrible way they treat their workers. Bezos is set to become a trillionaire.

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We have to remember that order comes from chaos. True enhancements can come from large scale crisis. What will we learn from this one? This is a warning!!** Universal health care? No more buffets? ** Prices will probably go up everywhere what with the closings and all the extra cleaning. I hope this means that hotel bedspreads will be cleaned after every stay.  It looks like there may be no cocktails or food on planes.

*****

Take a virtual tour of the statue of liberty. All the fun without all the swaying.

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Local PBS stations are making it easier to learn. Students will be able to put on a channel for lessons that does not need cable or internet. Woo Hoo!!

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Insiders say that Trump threatened to sue his campaign manager because he did not agree with his assessment and the poll numbers in a 2 day rant.** Just one more example of Scary Clown double talk. Then: Less testing, less positives. Now: So much testing is a badge of honor.**Doctors without Borders are now here, not the third world countries that they usually help, it is US.

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Haven’t we had enough of powerful men being accused? A female Dem candidate would have been nice and Bernie did not seem to have any baggage that way either.

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Will the Senate see fit to ok some more stimulus $? 4 trillion to prop up Wall Street seems per the usual. Enough for them, let’s take care of those small businesses and those really in need.

*****

Thao and the get down stay down is one of the best in this internet entertainment era.

*****

Check out Stars in the House with Tony Shalhoub and others.

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The Detectorists on Acorn TV is a great little show!!

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Happy Day! There is a new season of At Home with Amy Sedaris!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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It looks like Pier 1 will permanently close as well as JC Penney, J Crew, Sears and Neiman Marcus.

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Check out the wonderful, This is about Humanity!!

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Have U seen the trailer for The King of Staten Island?? OMG Pete Davidson, Steve Buschemi and Marisa Tomei , just to name a few!! I can’t fucking wait!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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Bill Maher looked really high on his 5-22-20 show. This working from home makes him much more mellow!!

*****

3 Russian doctors treating coronavirus have fallen out of windows in about a weeks time.** Russia boasts that it has more ventilators per capita than the U.S. After they made fun of us, on May 22, the first shipment of U.S. ventilators headed to Russia. They are a gift from Trump and the U.S. taxpayers. –Julia Davis

*****

State Department Inspector General Steve Linick is out.  Was he investigating Pompeo?  Trump never knows anything about any of it. Why are all the protectors of the rule of law thrown out?  ** Was Pompeo throwing lavish foreign policy dinners with Reba, Dale Jr. and the owners of that horrid chicken sandwich place? ** The clean water rule has been suspended which cuts protections for most of the country’s wetlands.

*****

The market facilitation program has been helping small farmers over the last few years in a $28 billion bailout. Trump’s sanctions brought this on and the corona virus has made it worse.  Mostly the money has helped bankers and bigger farms. Much like the stimulus $ that was earmarked for small business, there are loopholes that screw up the ‘rules.’ The cap is not being followed like they may say because the $ is going to “investors” in the farm and often not the actual farmer who works on a smaller scale. A small farm run by family members may not get the bailout. It seems to be more important to get a good lawyer who can manipulate the paperwork.  Sad that taxpayer $ is used this way.

*****

Just in time, the Space Force flag and plans for the super duper missile have been unveiled. WTF??

*****

Paula Poundstone is a woman I knew I liked. She was recently talking about not liking couches. I thought I was the only one, People are always telling me how much they love their couches and I don’t get it.

*****

Jeff Gibbs and Michael Moore are upset after Youtube pulled their doc, Planet of the Humans. After 8.3 million views, there was a copyright claim by Toby Smith of about 4 seconds of footage.  Now , this is not the first time that Moore has had problems with content in one of his movies.  Many have claimed there is a lot of fiction in this latest venture. I think I would just remove the possible copyright infringement and move on. It can now be seen on Vimeo.

A Florida law that restricts felon voting is found unconstitutional by a federal judge.** The RNC filed a lawsuit against California to stop mailing ballots to registered voters.

*****

R.I.P. Little Richard, Roy Horn, Jerry Stiller, Sam Lloyd, Ann Sullivan, Mike Cogswell, Michael Keenan, Shirley Knight, Irrfan Khan, Hana Kimura, Forrest Compton, Jimmy Cobb, George Floyd, Ken Osmomd, all the corona victims, Lynn Shelton, Richard Herd, Larry Kramer, Ahmaud Arbery, Breonna Taylor, Anthony James, Fred Willard and Carolyn Busch.

[tilltheendwilliwrite]

Of Blood and Roses

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Master List  |  Loki Laufeyson Master List

Previous Chapter

Pairing: Loki x Lauren  |  Word Count: 8632 Warnings: none

“Good. Keep those heels down, Baron. Hedda, relax your hands. It’s light contact with the horse’s mouth y’all want, not so much they toss their heads around,” Lauren called to her class. “That’s real nice, Etsuko. Now, relax your hips a little. Excellent. Your center of gravity needs to be in line with the horse’s or you’ll throw them out of balance. Two hands, Maja. This isn’t Western equitation class.”

“What’s Western equitation?” the girl asked.

“Just another style of ridin’ where I’m from. It’s a little more laid back and has a bigger, heavier style of saddle to it. I’ll teach y’all about it another day. How’s everyone feelin’ about walkin’?” A chorus of ‘greats’ lifted from all the children but Etsuko. Still, the girl’s grin was enormous. Lauren didn’t expect her to be silent for many more classes. “Alright. Let’s learn about leg cues before we get up into a faster gate. Everyone come to the center and line up a few feet apart.”

It took some finagling and a little bit of help from Lauren, but eventually, they all faced her with space between the horses. “Y’all know how to guide your mount by rein, but you can cue them just as easily with leg too. A brush of heels or squeeze of calf gets ‘em movin’ but what happens if y’all apply pressure with one leg and none with the other? Everyone, I want you to press your right heel into your mount’s side, medium pressure - no need to make ‘em jump, and lift your left away from their side.” Standing on one leg, Lauren demonstrated the distance away with her other. Sure it probably looked odd to anyone watching, but visual aids had always been part of her process. “Keep your hands down, only a little contact on their mouth, or you’ll have them headin’ backward on you instead of sideways.”

One by one they horses slowly began to take a few steps to the side as the kids got the hang of what she was asking them to do.

“Great job! Now back the other way.” She beamed proudly at her class when everyone was moving together to the right. “Aren’t y’all so smart!” Lauren waved a hand. “Back to the rail with you. Hedda, as I know you’ve got the most experience with horses, we’ll start with you. I want you to ask Elf to trot a circuit around the arena and line up behind Maja. Then the next will go, and the next, until it’s Hedda’s turn again.”

Hedda gave a little whoop of excitement and planted her heels in Elf’s side. The poor gelding, having been half dozing with the lazy nature of the class gave a startled grunt and whipped his head up before taking off like a shot.

Without thinking, Lauren raced to intercept Elf, hands up and out as she barked a sharp, “Whoa!” The horse sat on its hindquarters, coming to a sliding stop, throwing Hedda up on his neck as Lauren grabbed the reins and shot Hedda a stern look. “And just what was that, missy?”

“I’m sorry! I always have to give Big Boy a real good kick to get him going. I didn’t think-”

“No, Hedda, you didn’t think. Every horse is different, and it’s your responsibility as his rider to learn their way of goin’. Not only did you startle Elf, but you could also have had an accident, or caused an accident.” The horse whickered and brushed his soft nose on Lauren’s cheek. “Don’t go makin’ excuses for her,” Lauren scolded him though she scratched his chin, and stepped closer to Hedda’s knee.

The girl looked near to tears, and Lauren set her hand on Hedda’s leg as if adjusting her stirrup. Quietly, in voice only loud enough for Hedda to hear, she murmured, “Y’all are a lot like me when I was your age. So eager to rush forward, do it all, take risks, but risky behaviour with horses can cause severe consequences. There was a stallion of Daddy’s when I was knee-high to a grasshopper I so badly wanted to get to know, but Teddy, our stable master, he swore up and down the horse was too skittish for little girls like me to be around. I didn’t listen, and one day when I thought no one was lookin’, I snuck into his stall, startled him, and damn near took a hoof to the head. Luckily, Teddy had been watchin’ and managed to yank my dumb behind outta there, but not before gettin’ clipped by that hoof. It broke his arm.”

Hedda’s face was pale by the time Lauren finished her retelling. “What… what happened then?”

“I spent six weeks fetchin’ and carryin’ for him till his cast came off, and another three helpin’ out around the barn until he’d gotten his strength back. The point is, Hedda if I give you rules and restrictions, they’re not just for your protection, but everyone's. Now, walk Elf to the back of the line. You can try again after Maja.” Both girl and horse hung their heads but did as told. “Baron, your turn.”

The boy looked equal parts terrified and excited. He gently urged Mistral into a walk, and another squeeze had the horse moving out at a trot, setting the boy bouncing along with him.

“Good! Now, I want you to try risin’ up in your stirrups with every other stride. Squeeze with your knees and rise. Up, down, up, down.” It was a little rough, and he didn’t quite make every beat, but it was damn close and an excellent first try. “Great job, Baron. Y’all, that’s called “postin’,” and if you want to have any feelin’ left in your bum at the end of a long ride, postin’ will help you do that.” A smattering of chuckles came from all over the yard, making Lauren giggle. “Etsuko, you want to give it a go?”

She nodded and squeezed Ørn up into a trot. The natural grace Lauren had noticed in the girl was apparent as she easily mastered posting, rising and falling with each smooth stride like an experienced horsewoman.

“Well done, Etsuko! Very nice!” The girl ducked her head, but the same shy, sweet smile seemed a permanent addition to her face. “Maja, you’re up.” Flekk stepped out swiftly for her, his trot flashy with his high stepping feet. “Remember, you’re in charge. Just cause Flekk knows what you’re gonna ask of him, smart little pony,” Lauren grumbled as they went by, “doesn’t mean he gets to make those decisions. You’re his rider. He goes when you say, and he stops when you say.”

“Yes, Lady Lauren,” Maga giggled as she bounced around, her posting ability failing her.

“Alright, Hedda.” Lauren nodded, indicating the girl head on out. This time they were more subdued, moving out together nicely. Like Etsuko, Hedda mastered posting with little trouble. “Beautiful. Nicely done.” The smile returned to her face, and Lauren was relieved. The scolding was, perhaps, a little sharp, but she could see so much of herself in Hedda. The last thing Lauren wanted was for the girl to make the same mistakes she had growing up around the barn. “Everyone together now. Give the person ahead of you a few strides before followin’. Practice your postin’ and keep them ponies movin’ till I tell y’all to stop.”

Dagny leaned against the rail, and Lauren snuck between Flekk and Elf to join her. They watched the kids for a moment longer, Maja giggling once in a while, her laughter spreading until they all laughed and bounced and trotted around, having a great time.

“I honestly had my doubts about this,” Dagny said as Lauren climbed up and sat on the top railing. “More on sticking three nobles kids and a stable boy on horseback than your teaching skills, milady, but you’ve done it. I’ve rarely seen a more competent instructor.”

“It was my favourite job growin’ up. Workin’ with the little ones like this, teachin’ them somethin’ I love. I’ve missed it.”

“I still can’t believe those three mucked stalls,” she chuckled. “I’ll never forget it.”

Lauren only smiled. It didn’t surprise her at all. The children who wanted to learn, ride, and become horse people did the work. The ones for who it was a passing fancy, they were the ones to gripe about scooping poop. None of these girls had done so. While Lauren had moved the groomed and tacked horses out to the arena, Baron had given a stuttered lesson on the proper removal of manure. When she’d returned for the last two horses, the girls had been hard at work clearing piles. Once they finished, she led them all out to the arena, assisting those who needed it to the backs of their geldings, and the class had begun.

“Any more requests for lessons?” Lauren asked Dagny. “Drop your heels, Baron. You’ll have less difficulty.”

“Another dozen.”

“Maja, squeeze with your knees and tighten your belly. Y’all have got the look of a floppy fish about you,” Lauren murmured as the girl passed her place on the rail. “Have the requests sent to my office. I’ll look them over later. Y’all don’t need to be dealin’ with court nonsense. I’ll get them sorted.”

Dagny breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you, milady. That would be most appreciated.”

“How is it you haven’t been named stable master? You’re clearly competent,” Lauren wondered. “Everyone halt for a moment.” She smiled apologetically at Dagny and jumped down to adjust Baron’s posture.

“I’m sorry, milady,” he whispered, face flushed with embarrassment. “I can’t seem to get it right.”

“Baron, it’s only your first lesson. Y’all are doin’ just fine.” She reached up an placed a hand on his belly and the other on his low back. “Remember what I said in the beginnin’ about “sit bones”? You’re driftin’ a little forward which is a dangerous position for a boy if Mistral gets frisky. Catchin’ yourself on the saddle would be real unfortunate. Rock back a little. Good, now, scoot your bum forward, so you sit- Yes! Right there. Tighten your belly muscles, straighten your spine, look out between Mistral’s ears, and squeeze with your knees as your rise and fall with your postin’.” Even his ears were red by the time she finished, but Lauren paid it no mind. The boy would thank her for it if she kept him from cracking himself on the front of the saddle.

She stepped back, gave him a once-over, and nodded. “Resume.”

Dagny was snickering behind her hand when Lauren returned. “Poor boy’s about as red as I’ve ever seen him get, but he’ll thank you for it later, he will, if you keep him from nutting himself.” Lauren suppressed a snort. “As for your question. Stabio’s family has been in charge of the stables for generations. When Odin implemented the breeding program that’s produced what you see before you, it was that family who oversaw the barns. Through the years, they’ve kept the bloodlines pure, and it made sense to pass the position from father to son as they were all trained in the tradition, but with the dwindling interest in Sleipnir's Children and Stabio’s removal, we’re all just waiting to see what happens next.”

“Did you have a hard time with Stabio?” The way Dagny looked away, her face hardening into unreadable lines gave her answer better than words. “I’m sorry.”

She shook her head. “Don’t ever apologize for him. He was making the horses miserable. Aye, he was. You’re intervention likely kept Sleipnir from getting to him. You may have even saved the bastard’s life. Once word came to Sleipnir, well…” She shrugged and let the conversation end.

“And do you know as much about the barns, horses, and people as Stabio did? Could you run this place if you had to?”

Dagny gave an inelegant snort. “I’ve been doing so since before he left. Stabio only wanted one thing. He wanted to break Snøstrom and every Wild One of their temperament. He cared little for the day to day of running this place. He thought if he could prove Wild Ones would accept any rider as these fine fellows do, people would proclaim him a greater horsemaster than his father.”

A tired sigh escaped Lauren. “Unfortunately, the need to be the best can bring out the worst in people.” She patted Dagny’s hand before heading back into the center of the arena. “Alright, y’all. That’s it for today.” Loud groans of disappointment came from all the kids. “I know, I know, but for those of you unused to this much time in the saddle, y’all will likely thank me for endin’ things now when your legs give you grief tomorrow. I want everyone to dismount like we practiced at the beginnin’ and then you will walk your horses around the arena for five minutes before returnin’ them to their stalls where you will untack and rub them down. Baron is familiar with the process, and will answer any questions y’all have.”

After watching to see they all made it down without too much trouble, Lauren smiled and nodded. “I’ve yet to see my schedule, so when I know the date and time for our next class, y’all will be informed. Everyone did wonderfully today. Great job!”

They all beamed and lead their mounts around the rail, allowing the horses to cool down. As Lauren turned to go find her own mount, she arched a brow in exasperation, for Dagny was leading Snøstrom toward her, tacked up and ready to go.

“Wasn’t sure if you wanted this today,” she held up Lauren’s helmet, “or if you were just going to do ground work with him?”

She looked at the kids watching hopefully and chuckled. “I think I’ll run him through some leg cues today. See if I can teach him a little dressage.”

“Dressage?” Dagny asked, excitement in her voice and face.

Lauren laughed and opened the gate to let Snøstrom in. He immediately set about rubbing his forehead on her arm. “Another form of equitation. I’ll see what I can teach him. Get off, you big lug!” Suddenly, his nose dropped to the satchel on her hip where the horse snorted and pinned his ears, backing swiftly away. “Easy. It’s alright.”

A frowning Dagny was watching intently, and when Peaches, evidently concerned by the change in Lauren’s voice, poked his head out to see what was happening, she too gasped and took a swift step in retreat. “Milady!”

“Stop!” Lauren held up her hand, causing both horse and woman to freeze. “He’s fine. Please. Peaches is mine and won’t hurt either of you, but I’m not supposed to be tellin’ people about him yet, so can we just… keep this between us?”

“But that… that’s… it’s…” Dagny never did get a full sentence out before her head snapped up and she gaped at Lauren. “You're an Earth Mother…”

It was barely a whisper, but it had Lauren leaping forward to take the woman by the arm. “I’m not ready. Do you understand? I’m not ready. I can’t be what everyone will expect of me, not yet.”

Whether it was her pleading tone or the fear that must have been present on Lauren’s face, she didn’t know, but Dagny suddenly snapped back, relaxed, and nodded. “Of course, Lady Lauren. I understand. Aye, your secret is safe with me. This is just so exciting! And thinking about it now, I’m surprised others haven’t figured it out.”

Lauren released her arm on a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Dagny. Peaches only arrived hours ago. I’m sorry if he frightened you.” She rubbed her fingers over the snake’s head and encouraged him back into the satchel. “And you, you big chicken. C’mere.” Snøstrom snorted and stamped his hoof. “Don’t be like that.” He shook his mane. “Fine. Then I’ll leave, and we won’t ride at all.” Lauren crossed her arms and glared at him, even as his ears sagged and lower lip quivered. “Pout all you like. Y’all are the one bein’ a big baby.” He plodded forward with his head down, looking very put out, before stopping and resting his forehead on her chest. “See? That wasn’t so hard.”

“The way you talk to them, I’d think you had a touch of all-speak or transformation magic in you.”

“What’s that?” Lauren asked.

She stepped forward and checked Snøstrom’s saddle. “Well, the prince has transformation magic. His ability to assume an animal’s shape gives him the power to speak to them as well. While the King is capable of all-speak. It matters not what world Thor is on; he can speak the language thanks to his magic.”

“I didn’t know that!”

“Aye. And he can share it with those around him, making it easy for interspecies relations to take place. Of course, there are people on Asgard specifically trained in the various languages around the universe, because even though Thor can speak it, he can’t read them all. Most, but not all.”

“Well, blow me down with a feather! You learn somethin’ new every day!” Lauren giggled and mounted Snøstrom.

“Enjoy your ride, Highness.” Dagny patted Snøstrom’s flank. “I’ll keep an eye on the little ones.”

Lauren threw her a grateful smile and moved out onto the sand. The children all continued to circle with their horses, watching her as she urged Snøstrom up into a smooth trot, warming his muscles for the work to come. “Let’s see what we can teach you today, hmm, boy?” He nodded his head and whickered as if in agreement.

She started with something easy, a collected trot that had her moving past the children at a slow jog. Snøstrom picked his feet up nicely, a quick action that had him looking very sharp and proud. After a few rounds of that, making sure he was warmed up, she sat into the trot, pushing forward through her seat as they came to the long side of the arena, asking him to lengthen his stride. Those quick, flashy feet became ground eating strides that sent them sailing swiftly down the arena. At the corners, she collected him back into the short, flashy trot, then pushed him down the sides, repeating the action until he was confident and paying attention to her cues. Smarter than any horse she’d ever ridden, Lauren slowed him to a walk and patted his neck. “Good boy. Should we try somethin’ harder?” She got the same nod as before, making her giggle.

The kids were in the process of exiting the arena, so she waited a moment, gently pressing her hand to Peaches. He didn't seem at all concerned with the motion of riding, and for that she was thankful. Dealing with a grumpy snake was not high on her list of priorities. Once the gate closed, Lauren squeezed her heels and sent Snøwstrom up into a trot. After a few strides, she placed gentle pressure against his side with her inside leg, and slowly asked him to bring his nose back toward her knee, bending his thick neck into a deep curve. It was like she could see the question in his dark eye.

“This exercise helps with flexibility. Once we get you nice and supple through the pole -” his ears twitched, “yes, the space between your ears - and down your neck, I can start showin’ you other fun stuff. Flyin’ lead changes, turns on your hindquarters, and the real hard stuff.” His ears pricked toward her. “One's called a piaffe. It's a trot in place.”

He ignored her leg cues and turned into the center of the arena where the stallion proceeded to try and trot in place but kept falling to the side. When he finally came to a stop, head down and blowing hard, Lauren bit her lip to keep from chuckling. “Not as easy as it sounds, huh?” Snøstrom lifted his head, nose in the air as if to say he didn’t care to learn such things. “And why not?” He snorted in dismissal. “Foolish, hm? Well, if you’re not interested in learnin’ military maneuvers…” His whole head swivelled around, and he looked at her through narrowed eyes. “I swear!” Lauren held up her hands. “A piaffe was originally meant to keep you warm and ready to move forward into battle.” He looked intrigued before straightening out and stamping a hoof. “I’ll teach you, eventually. Right now, you have other things to learn before we get there.”

He worked the bit with his tongue, grumbling about it in his horsey way, but when she collected the reins to return him to the rail, Snøstrom went without protest. “Good boy. We’ll get there. It just takes time.” She patted his shoulder in sympathy and went back to softening his neck with a gentle inside bend.

***

Loki returned to the barn to find it abuzz with talk of Lauren and her class, both the one with the children in it and the one of the stubborn stallion she’d schooled afterward. It made him chuckle to listen for they were all so impressed with her and how she’d made Snøstrom sweat with nothing more than an hour of trotting and exercises none of them had ever thought to try. It was clear to Loki, if the barn staff had their way, Lauren would never be allowed to leave. They were all unendingly curious to see what other ingenious ways of training she had up her sleeve.

He found her in the calm quiet of Sleipnir’s stall, running a brush over the stallion’s hide. It already shone in the low light like pure silk. His mane now played host to a bunch of small braids, while a fishtail had been worked into the base of his tail before falling free into smooth strands that brushed the hay of his bedding. The stallion was dozing on four of eight legs, though his ears continued to flick back to where Lauren was working, her voice a low drone as she talked to the horse about nothing. It appeared she was telling him a story — one about a girl named Goldilocks and three bears.

Loki leaned against the stall door and listened to her talk, weaving the tale in such a way it painted pictures in his mind. When she finished the story with Goldilocks running from the house of the three bears to never be seen again, Loki lightly clapped his hands.

“Oh!” She turned with a flush building in her cheeks only to smile and relax when she realized who it was. “You gave me such a fright, Loki.”

“Apologies, love, but I didn’t want to interrupt your fascinating tale.” He frowned to find her snake looped around her neck again. “I thought he was staying out of sight?”

“He did, but no one bothers me in here and,” she bit her lip, the blush renewing, “Dagny knowns.”

Loki’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”

She hurried toward the stall door. “There was an incident with Snøstrom and Peaches she happened to see, and then when I tried to explain it away she just knew, but she’s promised to keep it to herself, sweetie. I trust she will.”

He opened the door for her as she encouraged the snake back down into his pouch. “I see.” He sighed, but it was understandable. Peaches was a deadly snake all creatures knew better than to mess with. That her stallion would not only notice but protest proximity to the dangerous viper wasn’t that big a surprise. “If you believe Dagny will stay quiet, then I believe she will.” He pulled her closer and ducked down to kiss her slowly. She smelled of horse and barn and Amazonian Lilies, somehow a scent so uniquely her he couldn’t find fault in it and hummed his pleasure. “So,” he murmured, pecking her lips, “sweetie?”

She giggled and twirled a lock of his hair around her finger. “I thought I’d try it out.”

“It’s… different.”

“Not sure it fits you though. You’re not really the “sweetie” type. Elskan min is a better fit.”

“Hm,” he chuckled. “That it is.” Loki nipped her lip between his teeth and worried it gently. When he finally released it, it was plump and red and lush looking. He wanted to keep kissing her, or pull her in a stall and have his way with her against the wall, but refrained. “Are you ready, my sweet, to see your public and private spaces?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

“Still a little nervous?” She nodded, clutching the strap of her satchel. “That’s alright. You’ll see there is nothing to fret over once you’ve been. But first, I want you to cleanse yourself of the scent of horse and remove the dust from your hair, body, and clothing. I’ll be changing your makeup, so you may take that off as well.” He stepped a pace away, having no desire to be doused in water if she made a mistake, but he needn't have feared when with a few whispered words, narrowed brows of concentration, and a twist of fingers, she was once again clean and refreshed. “Lovely. Very well done, darling.”

Sleipnir stuck his head over his stall door and whickered.

“Even he is impressed at how much you’ve learned in such a short time.”

Lauren blushed and smiled shyly, so adorable. “Thank you. I’m tryin’ real hard.”

“You’re doing amazingly well, pet,” Loki purred, surrounding her in ropes of magic that twisted and shaped and changed her garments, leaving her standing in a beautiful periwinkle gown with an overcoat of the same colour, heavily embroidered in pale violet. Her hair curled loose and flowing down her back and over her shoulders in youthful whimsy, a match to her glossy lips and thick lashes. The court makeup of this morning had been stunning but had masked her natural beauty. This was much more natural and in keeping with her personality.

He held out his hand and had her turn, admiring every angle. “You’re exquisite, my love. Simply breathtaking.”

“I would hope you’d think so, seein’ as you’re the one dressin’ me!” she laughed, petting Sleipnir’s cheek before taking Loki’s arm. “I’ll be back when I can.”

The stallion wickered, and Lauren looked up at Loki. “What he say?”

“That he looks forward to more stories from the Lady of Stars and Fire.”

Lauren smiled over her shoulder. “I’m glad you enjoyed them!”

Laughing softly, Loki led her toward the exit, not blind to the men and women who stopped to bow and murmur quiet greetings to her as they passed. She’d earned much respect today. “It appears your lesson went well. You seem to have impressed everyone who works in the stables.”

“It was so fun, Loki.” Her joy appeared to radiate from her like the sun. “The kids were great, though Hedda reminds me a little too much of myself. Lady Anna brought Maja, and there was a bit of a set too, but I handled it. She may get her natter on, but Lord Aslin was so nice about the whole thing, I don’t even care if  Anna and Haddy get their knickers in a twist. One was rude, and the other was up to somethin’.”

“Lady Anna was rude?” Loki asked, having heard nothing of the confrontation what with dealing with petitioners all day.

Lauren waved a dismissive hand. “It got handled. Maja stayed for the lesson and said she’d be speakin’ to her father about how her mother insulted me. She didn’t figure she’d have a problem returnin’ properly attired for her next lesson.”

He came to a full stop in the door of the stable. “Darling,” he said quietly, working to contain his rage. “Was Lady Anna rude or did she offer insult?”

She frowned up at him. “What’s it matter? I dealt with it.”

“It matters quite a lot. If Lady Anna insulted the Princess of Asgard, recompense will be required.”

“Loki,” she sighed and shook her head. “I think it was a big enough blow when Maja refused to leave with her and took my side. Let it go.”

“You do not understand, my heart. You are the Princess of Asgard. An insult to you is an insult to me and indirectly to Thor. Such a thing cannot, will not, simply be swept beneath the rug. It cannot go unpunished, no different than what happened with Gerda. While I have no plans to set Geri and Freki on the woman, you can bet her husband will hear of my anger.”

She gazed up at him for a long moment before asking, “Is this an Asgardian thing?”

“Very much so,” he answered without hesitation.

“Fine.” She tugged his arm to get him moving and recited as best she could what had happened. By the end, Loki was biting his tongue to contain his laughter.

“I see what you mean. I think a strongly worded missive and baning his wife from appearing in your parlour until she executes a formal and public apology while actively inviting her daughter to join you should be punishment enough.”

“And Daven and her girls. I was supposed to have tea with them and haven’t. And I invited Lord Aslin. He was ever so sweet, Loki. His daughter is a little darlin’, but the loss of her mama has made her darn near mute. I think havin’ her spend time with Hedda and Maja will be good for her.”

“You’re probably correct, my heart.” He led Lauren into the gardens and smiled when the blooms along their pathway began to open in her wake. As there was no one near, he didn’t bother to say anything.

“I do have a question about Hedda though.”

“What’s that, love?”

She drew him to a stop beneath the arched branches of a willow tree. “You saw my magic in my eyes first, right?” He nodded, intrigued by her question. “Well, when Hedda met Elf today, I swear I saw somethin’ in her eyes. She kept insistin’ Volstagg’s horse didn’t like his name, and then with Elf, she said he liked his name very much, and there was this… flicker of pink in her eye.”

Loki inhaled sharply. “In her pupil or did it curl around her iris?”

“In her pupil.” She frowned at him. “Why?”

“A curl around the iris is the indication of seiðr in the blood, but a flame within the pupil is something different. An indication of transformative magic or all-speak.”

“Like what you have and what Thor has?” When he tilted his head curiously, she smiled and explained. “Dagny said when I was talkin’ to Snøstrom it was like I had all-speak, and I didn’t know what she meant.”

“Ah. I see. Forgive me. I never thought to explain about all-speak.”

She shook her head. “It’s fine. I’m beginnin’ to see there are things y’all learn early that are just part of bein’ Asgardian. I think it’s important that you find me that tutor. Yes, I could learn as we go, but havin’ someone who can start at the beginnin’ and help me adjust? I want that, Loki.”

He cupped her chin, so incredibly proud of her. Finally, she was asking for what she wanted and requesting what she needed like a true princess. “Whatever you want, my sweet, stunning little Earth Mother.”

When he bent to kiss her, he found her fingers pressed to his lips. “Speakin’ of “whatever I want,” just what were you and Thor thinkin’ buyin’ that costume from Ingrid?”

Loki nipped the end of her finger. “We were conspiring to give you something that obviously brought your pleasure. I take it, it arrived today?”

“Mm, along with the earrin’s from Clareon and the fairy orbs for Gran.”

“And how did they turn out?” He collected her hand back to his arm and continued through the garden.

“Oh, Loki. She’s just gonna spit when she sees ‘em!” Lauren squealed and tugged on his arm. “They’re so pretty, and the colours! The colours are just gorgeous!”

“I’m happy they please you, pet. I’m sure your Gran will love them.” He led her up the stairs onto the terrace that wrapped around the lower level and through the nearest doors.

“Hey, hun? Why are we walkin’?”

He smiled down at her and led her to the stairwell. “It isn’t far, and I thought you might like to know how to get there on your own.”

She lifted the front of her gown as she climbed the spiral stairs. Loki couldn’t help but watch her as she went, her hand in his. She was so graceful. He just couldn’t get over how stunningly sleek and beautiful she was. There was no one in all of Asgard who could compare to her.

“You’re starin’, honey.”

“I think when it comes to you I will always stare. There is no greater beauty in all of Asgard.” He drew her up to his stair and kissed her sweetly when her pleased blush coloured her cheeks.

Then a voice cleared and broke them apart. “Excuse me, your Highness. I need to get by.”

He could feel Lauren stiffen at the sound of that voice and tucked her in tight to his side. “Teacher.” Loki nodded politely and stepped up a step to give Sigyn space to pass. It was a narrow stairwell, old and made of stone from the first days of Asgard and the old keep, but it held a nostalgic air for his father and had been left as a reminder of bygone days. Now, Loki wished he’d torn it down and put in something more practical, but at the time, such stairwells made it difficult for invaders to ascend higher in the keep.

Sigyn swept down the stairs with her nose in the air, ignoring Lauren completely. He knew he shouldn’t do it, but then Loki was never one not to poke the hornet’s nest. “Aren’t you supposed to be with students this time a day?” He guided Lauren up the stairs past him, so he stayed between her and Sigyn.

The redheaded witch slowed to a stop and looked up at him. “It appears fewer children require my skills. Fewer and fewer are showing any magical leanings.”

“Strange,” Lauren murmured, her hand resting on Loki’s shoulder. “I found one just today.”

“You?” Signy scoffed. “What would you know of seiðr or the magic of Asgard?”

“You’d be surprised what I can learn in a short amount of time.” Lauren picked up the front of her dress and continued up the stairs without another word.

“I see she’s found her inner princess,” Signy sniffed.

“Glorious isn’t she?” Loki smirked proudly and followed his wife up the stairs, ignoring the glare Signy shot his way before she swept down them. He contemplated magically shifting the bottom step, so she stumbled ungracefully out in view of everyone, but she would know it was his doing, and he wouldn’t give her a reason to retaliate.

Lauren waited for him at the top, and Loki bound up the last few steps like an overzealous stag. It made her giggle and reach out to close her hands around the straps on his chest. “If you’re gonna act like a deer, you should’a kept the horns on.”

“Maybe I’ll return them for you later,” he purred, clutching her waist to draw her closer.

She tugged until he bent down and kissed him. “Thank you for sayin’ what you did to Sigyn, honey.”

“Mm,” he hummed against her mouth. “I think I like honey.”

“Sweet,” she purred and dragged her fingers down his chest to sneak between the edges of his tunic and find the front of his pants. “And thick like you.”

“You naughty, wicked woman. I love it!” he growled and ravaged her mouth.

Titters of giggles erupted up and down the hall, but Loki took his time releasing his wife, mostly so she could sneak her hand away from him before everyone noticed just what her grasping fingers were gripping. He looked over her head and grinned at the maids giggling behind their hands. They rushed away with his notice, and Loki led Lauren down the hall.

The pretty blush he adored coloured Lauren's cheeks, her shyness always so sweet. “Don’t worry, darling. It was only a couple of maids. Most people have no reason to be here, but I informed Selvina you would be entertaining tomorrow, and she sent a few girls to get the furniture dusted. I’m sure they have seen worse things than a husband kissing his wife.”

“I find I quite like it when my husband kisses me.”

She flirted with her lashes and had him lifting her palm to his lips. “My love, how well you stroke my ego.”

At a set of ornate wood and gold doors, Loki released her hand to push them both open, revealing a room with a large fireplace set against one wall. The floor rose in tiers, creating separate seating areas right back to the highest section - no more than three steps up - placed back against the expanse of windows that looked out over Asgard’s gardens, currently covered by thick brocade drapes in antique gold. Chairs and couches in creams and golds would seat a good thirty guests, but the room itself was large enough for many more.

Lauren inhaled in wonder and walked through the doors onto lush green and black carpets which muffled her steps. “Loki… it’s so… grand.”

“It’s meant to be.”

She tilted her head back to take in the coffered, and carved ceiling hung with shining gold chandeliers, then made her way toward the highest tier where she pulled back a curtain and peered out over the garden. “Would you be upset with me if I asked to change a few things?”

His heart skipped in excitement. For her to want to make changes meant Lauren was feeling at home and comfortable with her position. “Anything you want, my heart. Name it.”

“These weren’t your mama’s rooms were they? I don’t want to upset anyone if they were. I’d feel like I was erasin’ bits of Frigga’s memory and that would be wrong.”

Loki shook his head. “Not at all, darling. Mother’s rooms will belong to Thor’s wife, as is proper. These rooms have sat empty since before my time. What you see was put in place when it became known I had an Ástvinur, so anything you’d like to change, you need only ask.”

She turned from her view of the window with such a deviant smile on her face; he had a thrill race up his spine. “Would you be at all against havin’ a little fun with Thor’s court?”

“Wicked girl. Whatever plan you are hatching, I want in.” He flicked his fingers and the doors to the hall closed and locked.

“Well.” She dug her toe into the carpet and swung back and forth like Sara was want to do. “Seein’ as how people are so interested in Midgard, and I am a true southern belle, what’s say we show ‘em a little of where I come from.”

He inhaled sharply, then swiftly cupped her face and kissed her hard on the mouth. “Brilliant! Damn, how did I not think of that?”

She giggled wildly and sat down hard when he let her go. “Well, my tricky God. You’d best make with the magic while I sit here and look for the bone you stole from my legs.”

“Do I make your knees weak, pet?” He turned a devilish smile on her and caged her into her chair.

“You know you do.”

Eyes like emeralds were full of laughter and just the first stirrings of desire when he lowered himself to his knees and began to draw her skirt up her legs. “Perhaps I should assist you with finding your wayward bones before I make with the magic?”

She arched a brow and offered him an inviting smile. “Maybe you should.”

With an excited growl, Loki pounced on his wife.

***

It was over an hour later when they emerged, Lauren bright-eyed and flushed, Loki looking smug and thoroughly relaxed. Her viper had stuck his head out once when Lauren had carefully dropped his satchel onto a nearby table but quickly went back to napping when Loki’s tunic landed on him.

Now a bright, sunshine laden parlour waited beyond the closed doors. The furniture was of the antique variety within Ellie’s home, while the walls between the panels of wainscotting and crown moulding now contained copies of art by some of Midgard’s touted masters. Such paintings as Monet’s Water Lilies, and Van Gogh’s Starry Night, and The Skiff by Renoir a painting Lauren loved so much, she had a poster of it framed on the wall of her suite in the tower.

He'd transformed one entire section of seating into a library containing much of the writings Loki enjoyed - Shakespeare, Byron, Poe, and the complete works of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle - available for perusal whilst visiting. And the upper section where the heavy golden draperies had hung, now a transparent film of curtains meant to soften the sun, but not block it completely covered the windows. Flowers such as Orchids, Amaryllis, and even a small Magnolia tree bloomed in abundance throughout the room. Even the ornate gold chandeliers were no more, replaced by elegant crystal ones. There was not another place like it in all of Asgard.

Loki had even changed out the floors to wood ones of a herringbone pattern he then overlaid with soft, thick Persian rugs. Some of what she’d asked for were things he’d been unfamiliar with, but when he explained about being able to see her memories if she allowed it, Lauren had agreed without hesitation and opened herself to him, giving him unrestricted access to whatever he wished. He’d only plucked the bits of knowledge required for the transformation from her mind, and left the rest alone.

He led her across the hall to a single door through which there was a smaller room much the same as the previous. “This is what would be called your keeping or retaining room.”

“It’s cozy. Is it soundproof?”

“It is indeed,” he grinned down at her. “What private conversations you wish to have will remain so within the walls of this room. Should we spruce it up as well?”

Lauren shook her head. “I feel like if people are askin’ for an audience, it would be better to have them be comfortable when they speak their peace. If everythin’ is so different in here, they may have a hard time askin’ what they came to ask.”

“How very astute of you, darling. You are becoming a wonderful princess.” He kept growing prouder of her day by day.

She looked up at him with soft eyes and a sweet smile. “Guess Sadie was right. I kinda like this princess thing.”

“My love. If you keep looking at me like that, I will feel the need to christen this room, and the one beyond it as well with your sweet cries.”

“Hush, you.” She swatted playfully at his chest and followed him to another single door set in the wall of her keeping room. “And where does this super secret doorway lead?”

Loki chuckled and pushed it inward. “Not so secret, but it does give access to your office.” It was a room roughly double the size of the one they’d just passed through. Soft pastel colours and ivory furniture had it looking light and airy, and when Lauren smiled, he knew there would be nothing to change in this space either.

“It so pretty!” She hurried toward the desk and poked through piles of blank paper, pens, and all manner of things she would need. Then she held up the cylinder of violet wax. “What’s this for?”

“I will show you after you write your thank you to Clareon.” Loki rounded the desk and plucked a note card from within a shelf containing a multitude of them. “As it is a note of gratitude, you should use a card that can be kept and or displayed like a souvenir. For things like a summons, a letter of condolence, or an answer to a message received, stationary is preferred.” He handed the card to her and watched her frown. “What is it, love?”

“Why are your serpents purple?”

He chuckled and tapped the front of the card. “The violet colour is your royal colour. Mine is green, Thor’s is red for personal missives, but messages sent from the crown are gold. The symbol is mine, as Thor’s is his hammer, but as your place on Yggdrasil is unknown, we haven’t yet set you a seal. For now, you will use mine in our official colour, and when we announce you as an Earth Mother, banners with your chosen image will be made, a seal forged, and new parchment created.”

“For such an advanced society, why y’all don’t use computers and email is beyond me,” she muttered and sat to write out her message to Clareon. “Even your pens remind me of the kind we all used to dip in ink before things like ballpoints came around.”

“You mean this ink?” He nudged the pot toward her.

“Oh, crap.” She thunked her head down on her desk. “I tried calligraphy once, Loki. I sucked at it. Can’t you just magic me a ballpoint?”

“It takes a little practice, but I’ll help.” Moving around her chair, he closed his hand around hers on the pen and dipped it in the ink, showing her how to judge when she had enough, then helping her run through the alphabet on a scrap piece of paper. “As to why we choose to do things this way, it’s to remain connected to our people. Could we have a network of computers through which to send instant messages? Absolutely. But taking the time to sit down and actively write a card or letter shows the receiver the sender put thought and effort into their answer. It also weeds out things of a trivial nature because of the time one must put in to write their message.”

“I get it.” Lauren bit her lip as she tried repeating his actions without his guiding hand. “People can be real disconnected on Earth with email and instant messagin’. It’s why I wrote to Sadie and Gran, Sue Ann and Teddy. It kept me connected when it would have been real easy to lose touch.”

“Quite right, darling.”

“I’d still be better with a ballpoint pen,” she grumbled.

“You’re doing fine, Lauren. Now, write your note. It’s best to address him as Master Goldsmith Clareon. It will stroke the little farts ego.”

Lauren snorted a laugh. “Both you and the twins keep givin’ me the impression he’s a difficult person.”

“He’s a dwarf from Nidavellir. They are all difficult!” Loki huffed. “Careful. If you think you may have picked up too much ink, you can always run the pen over a piece of scrap.”

As soon as she set the tip to the scrap paper she’d been using to practice on; she left behind a large ink blot. “That was close.”

“You’ll be proficient in this in no time.”

The quiet scratch of her pen was the only noise in the room for a few minutes before she sat back and motioned to the card. “Well?”

Loki stroked his hand down the body of the viper who’d slithered up to rest on Lauren’s shoulder, appearing as if he could read when he stared at the paper. “Dear Master Goldsmith Clareon. It is with my deepest sincerity that I thank you for your generous gift. You made it exceptionally difficult to choose from the extraordinary collection you sent until the beautiful diamond drop earrings caught my eye. I shall think fondly of you every time I wear them. Yours…” Loki frowned. “You didn’t finish.”

“I don’t know how to address it. Princess Lauren feels a little strange. Lauren Odinson doesn’t quite do it either, and if I sign it Lauren Annandale, he won’t know who I am. How do you sign yours?”

“Loki, Prince of Asgard, brother of Thor, son of Odin, God of Mischief.” She gaped up at him in mild exasperation. “What?”

“I should have known.” She picked up the pen and bent over the card, then handed it back to him.

“Lauren, Princess of Asgard.” Loki smiled and nodded. “Yes, that will do well. Now, most people would need to blot the ink or sand it before closing the card, but we, my love, have magic.”

“Oh! I know!” She called her magic to her fingers with a speed that astounded him, then breathed a soft, “Bris,” that sent a gentle curl of breeze drying the ink.

“Well done, darling!” he exclaimed, impressed with her reach in logic. “Grab an envelope and add the card. Now, the wax is to seal it closed so if it arrives at its destination cracked, we will know someone intercepted it on route.”

“Couldn’t someone just use magic to lift it without breakin’ it?” she asked.

Loki lit the small wick at the end and added a few drops of the wax to the tip of the closed envelope. “The wax itself has magical properties sealed into it to keep such a thing from happening. Grab that seal.” He motioned to the stamp with the wooden handle. “And press it into the wax. You can rock it a little to get decent definition in the design, just remember not to twist.” When she pulled the seal away, his serpents remained embossed in the wax. “Perfect. Now, lift the letter, turn it over, and speak the name of the person you are sending the letter to aloud. For Clareon, you would say “Clareon the Goldsmith.’”

“Clareon the Goldsmith.” Lauren’s eyes grew round when the words appeared on the front in violet ink. “Wow!”

“Still missing email?” he teased.

“Not at the moment. Now what? Do we give it to someone to deliver?”

“Yes, indeed we do.” Loki made his way to the window and pushed it open. “Raven!” Within seconds one was sitting on the windowsill, croaking curiously. “Your willing messenger, my heart.”

Lauren got quickly to her feet and came closer, her snake once again curled loosely around her neck. “Do I just give it over?”

“It’s best to tell them where they are going, though the letter itself is now spelled to lead them to the receiver. You will also need one of these.” From the jar below the window, Loki plucked the lid and held out a small cracker. “Payment for work.”

She giggled and fed the cracker to the raven. “Can you take this to Clareon the Goldsmith? Please?” The raven bobbed up and down, and gently took the letter in its beak before hopping around and flying away. “Thank you!”

“So polite,” Loki teased.

“Of course. One never knows when a raven is really a God in disguise,” she snickered, lightly stroking the scales of her familiar.

He shook his head in wonder. “By the Norns, pet. What a goddess you will make.”

“It’s all because of you, Loki.” She smiled, lifted up on her toes, and pecked him a soft kiss. “All of this is 'cause of you.”

For the first time in his life, he actually believed that.

Next Chapter... coming soon.

#Of Blood and Roses #loki laufeyson #loki and lauren #loki laufeyson fanfiction #Loki x Lauren #god of mischief #god of mischief fanfiction #southern belle #avengers au #asgard au

[walkerismychoice]

Queen of My Heart - Chapter 13

The Royal Romance Reality Show AU

Pairing: Drake X MC, Liam X MC

Rating: Mature for some language

Author’s Note: This chapter picks up after the second elimination ceremony/Drake walking away from Riley after confessing his feelings. It ends somewhat abruptly, but for reasons.

Tag List: @lazychic28, @choices-fanatic, @simplyaiden-blog, @butindeed, @bobasheebaby, @queencatherynerhys, @theroyalweisme, @boneandfur, @drakelover78 @notoriouscs, @mfackenthal, @blackcatkita, @devineinterventions2, @choiceswreckedme, @drakewalkerfantasy, @andy-loves-corgis, @traeumerinwitzhelden, @confessionsofabrokegirl, @decisso, @sir-wigglesworth, @drakesfiance, @viktoriapetit, @umccall71, @hamalu

Word Count: 2101

Queen of My Heart Chapter Index

"Kat, are you seriously telling me you let Liam and Riley have time alone....off camera...on the group date."

"I did what I had to do, Jo. Liam wasn't going to re-film the horse scene if I didn't give him that in return. Even if I had convinced him to let cameras in, it would have probably been much more reserved than whatever went on without them. It's not like they were going to fuck on camera."

"Okay, fine. I suppose we already have enough Riley for the episode anyway."

"And don't forget Olivia's date. We got that awkward kiss on camera." Kat reminded Jo. "This episode will get killer ratings."

"Yeah, that didn't go well, but we could really make it look worse with the editing. Good call. So what's on the agenda for the next show?"

Before Kat could answer, Danny, one of the film editors walked up.

"Danny!" Jo greeted, "Tell me you are interrupting our meeting because you found some good footage from the palace cameras."

"Well I did find something. Not sure if it's usable or not." Danny pulled a couple of clips on the screen in front of Jo and Kat.

"Riley and her bodyguard?" Kat questioned as the first clip began. "I don't see how this is relevant to the show."

"There's a couple of things." Danny pointed to the corner of the screen. "See the timestamp?" That's two hours later than everyone else got back from the horseback riding date. I don't know where they went, but that car didn't bring them right back to the palace. And then watch what happens here."

Kat and Jo watched the scene unfold.

"What the hell was that?" Jo exclaimed. "They have even more chemistry than Liam and Riley have together."

"I'm sure it's nothing Jo." Kat tried to smooth things over. "They were probably just overly flirty because they went out and had a bit to much to drink. See how he just pats her on the shoulder? Just a friendly night out."

"Bullshit. They clearly want to bang each other. Looks like he just has more self control than she does." Jo played the second clip and they watched Drake pin Riley up against the door. "Fuck, my panties are wet just from watching this and they didn't even do anything...yet. We need to do something about this. Thank you Danny, you can go now."

"What do you propose we do? I don't think asking Liam to reassign Drake would be wise, even though it would be the best way to keep them apart," Kat reasoned.

"No we don't have to be that drastic. At least not yet. There is no filming for the next couple days due to Liam’s obligations. Why don't we send Riley to the Beaumont estate with Maxwell and Bertrand? It will get her away from Drake, and maybe she'll get a sense of how much they need her to stick around for the money."

“That’s actually a really good idea, Jo. She’ll probably just think we are being nice bending the rules to let her get some brotherly bonding time in.”

“Okay, that’s settled. Liam should be here in a few minutes to discuss the next dates.”

Five minutes later, Liam walked in. “Good morning Jo, Kat.”

“Liam, that was quite a performance on the group date,” Jo said with a grin.

“Please don’t remind me. I’m starting to wonder if this was all a mistake. Change my mind and tell me I can finally have a one on one date with Riley this week?” Liam pleaded .

“About that...We can see things are going great with her, and we think the audience will see it too...” Kat paused trying to word it in a way Liam would accept, “I know you understand we need to keep the show entertaining for all the reasons we have previously discussed. It can’t be all Riley all the time. Jo and I decided this one on one should be with one of women you are pretty sure you are going to cut this week.”

Liam’s expression hardened. “Why on earth would I do that? I wouldn’t want to lead someone on, and waste time I could have spent with someone I might actually have a future with.”

“Think about it this way,” Kat responded, “with some good one on one time you will be able to tell for certain if the woman is not for you. And if she isn’t, you have the option you had on the other one on one dates to send her home at any time. You won’t have to keep her around until the next rose ceremony.”

Liam shook his head. “I don’t know how you do it, but you always manage to get me to give in. So what does the date entail?”

“You will spend the day shopping at the Cordonian Marketplace and end with a dinner cruise.” 

“Fine. I’ll choose Catherine.”

~~~~~

“So this is our house? It’s gorgeous.” Riley looked around and took everything in. The green expanse of the country setting, the classic stone exterior with grape vines climbing the walls, and the welcoming outdoor living space, complete with fireplace, that was nicer than any indoor living space she had ever had.

“Correction, as heir to the Beaumont estate, it is technically my home. But I’m not cruel. Maxwell still lives here with me...and I suppose, when this is all over, if you need somewhere to stay, you are welcome here as well.” 

“Aww Bertarand!” Riley wrapped her arms around Bertrand and he was again hesitant to return her embrace. “I keep telling you Betrand that I’m a hugger, and you need to get use to it.”

Maxwell Laughed. “Hey, I’m blown away by the amount of affection he is already showing you. But you know I’m up for hugs any time. Maxwell squeezed her tightly and didn’t let go.

“Thanks Maxwell, but I can’t breathe,” Riley gasped, and he let her go. “So what’s on the agenda for the next two days? More rigorous training?”

“Actually,” Maxwell replied, “I talked Betrand into giving you a break. We know that Hana will be helping you out with the training. We can just hang out, get to know each other, and have fun. Well Bertrand doesn’t know how to have fun anymore, but he’ll do his best.”

“Maxwell!”

“What? I just speak the truth. Ever since you’ve been burdened with our financial difficulties, you are all business.”

Oh, that’s right. The Beamount’s really do need the money from the show, Riley thought. She hadn’t been thinking about the money piece of things because she was genuinely interested in Liam. She guessed it was another reason not to worry about Drake and just be there for Liam. All things being equal, she would have a hard time choosing between Drake and Liam, but she really didn’t have a choice to make, did she? Drake was a loyal friend and wasn’t going to come between her and Liam despite how he felt. And although the Beamount’s money problems were not her issue, she did want to help them if she could, and being with Liam would hardly be a sacrifice. Now she just had to figure out how to get over knowing that Drake reciprocated her feelings. Maybe this time away with her brothers would help.

“How about a tour?” Riley said, trying to change the subject.

“Maxwell, why don’t you help Riley take her things to her room and then show her around. I have some phone calls to make.”

“Oh, I make an excellent tour guide!” Maxwell picked up Riley’s suitcase. “Follow me.”

Maxwell gave Riley the grand tour interspersed with some Beaumont family history. The house wasn’t as grand as the palace, but it was charming, and was still a mansion by Riley’s standards. She wondered what it would have been like if she had known Bathelemy was her father. Would she have spent summers here with Maxwell and Bertrand? Would she have become a completely different person than she is today?

They finished the tour back outside where they had started. Maxwell and Riley sat down on the patio furniture. “Maxwell, I want to know about our father. Tell me all about him.” 

Maxwell’s ever present smile faded slightly. “I wish I had lots of happy memories to share with you, but he wasn’t the most affectionate father. He had high expectations. He was very hard working, but that also meant that even as children, he expected us to act grown up and responsible all the time. Bertrand was nowhere near as uptight back then as he is now, but he was still always the mature responsible one. He was my father’s protege. He was the heir, and I was the spare, as they say. Father found it much easier to relate to Bertrand, but I was much closer to our mother. Barthelemy was a good Duke and a good provider, but loving and caring aren’t high on the list of words I would use to describe him. I’m sorry I can’t just tell you he was the best dad ever.”

“This might sound bad Maxwell, but its almost easier to hear that he wasn’t the best father. It feels like I missed out on less...but I still wish I would have had a chance to see that for myself. And I so wish that I didn’t miss out on all the years of knowing you and Bertrand. No matter what your dad thought Maxwell, you are pretty great. You have welcomed me without question. You are kind and passionate and have so many great qualities. It’s too bad our father couldn’t see you for all that you were.”

“Riley, I feel like you really get me. You do kind of remind me of my mother. Barthelemy must have had a type, because you had to have gotten your personality from your mother. You are opposite of our father in all the best ways.”  

“Thanks, Maxwell. Okay, enough about Barthelemy. Let’s get to the having fun part.”

Maxwell decided to order pizza to make Riley feel at more at home. She tried to pretend to be offended that he would assumed she would have such simple American tastes, but he was right. Not that she didn’t enjoy fine cuisine, but nothing could beat pizza as a comfort food. They ate too much, drank beer and wine, and stayed up way too late watching movies. Bertrand even joined them for awhile. 

Riley had her best night’s sleep since she had come to Cordonia. Betrand was busy much of the day, but Maxwell showed her around the grounds more, went through old photo albums with her, and showed her how to make a traditional Cordonian seafood dish for lunch. Maxwell surprised her by bringing in a massage therapist in the afternoon to help Riley relax and unwind. It truly was a perfect day. Maxwell was just about to start cooking dinner when the doorbell rang.

“Hmm, I wasn’t expecting anyone. Who would be here at this time of the evening unannounced?” Maxwell inquired as he opened the door. “Liam! What are you doing here?”

Riley came running around the corner. “Liam? Is something wrong?”

“Not at all, Riley. I’m sorry I didn’t call ahead of time, Maxwell, but I had to keep this under wraps. I’m not supposed to be here, but I really wanted to see Riley. I hope neither of you mind.”

“Of course I don’t mind Liam. I’m always happy to see you, but Maxwell was just about to make dinner for--”

Maxwell interjected before Riley could finish. “How about I make dinner for the two of you? It could be like a date.”

Riley didn’t want to cancel her plans with Maxwell, but it was hard to say no to alone time with Liam. He’d come all this way just to be with her and risked getting in trouble by breaching his contract. “If you are sure you don’t mind Maxwell.”

“No, not at all! I’m happy to do it. Go sit and have a drink, and I’ll let you know when dinner is ready. Chef Maxwell will take care of you.”

Riley and Liam settled in in the living room, catching up on the past couple days. Not much time had passed and the doorbell rang again. 

“Seriously? Who could this be now?” Riley heard Maxwell say as he went to the door. “Drake, buddy! Uh oh, did you come looking for Liam? Come on in, he’s right here.”

#the royal romance #playchoices #drake x mc #liam x mc #TRR4ever

[deusaeverythingcomestoanend]

D. Series: The Pirate

I am going to be honest I did not feel like posting another chapter. 

Lord Alfric is being a little too generous. It almost makes you wonder what would happen if you were to upset him. Never mind we already know what happens. Did we forget what he did to his late wife Lady Bathsheba?

Cronus cannot help but feel like a mouse caught in a cage. With a cat looming over him. He needs to leave. He wonders if he could easily fool his captor. 

Chapter 19

Words are meaningless

You must always make your plans,

Since the Devil will always try to clean his hands,

Do not ignore the heart but use your brain,

Forget the few losses and concentrate on the gain.

January 9, 1545

It had been over two weeks since the Dratraines had moved into Lord Alfric's estate. Cronus was taken to work with the Blacksmiths. His job was to create items that had never been seen before. That was what he designed and the other men would help bring them to life. He would do these things until around noon in which he would serve a Squire as a Pageboy. Though things did not last long with the Squire. Unbeknownst to them, Clement had been training him to be a knight for quite some time. True the only thing he did not train him in was horseback riding. Each time the Squire gave Cronus an order and Cronus would question him, he would go over to smack him. Unfortunately for him that never ended well, or the very least pinned beneath Cronus as he held his hands behind his back. It happened too many times that Lord Alfric decided it was best for Cronus to be promoted.

As for Victory she spent most of her day training to become a Lady. They told her it was fortunate of her to know how to knit and sew. One less thing she would have to learn. However the tutor that was left in charge of training her did not avoid letting her know that she was inferior. At first her music teacher would smack her delicate fingers with a horse whip if she ever made a miniscule mistake. After about three lessons her hands would be raw in pain and Lord Alfric did not like it one bit. She was taught how to read, write and perfect her penmanship by a different teacher. Victory's favorite class was art, it was the only class where she was free to create whatever she saw fit. There were no rights or wrongs in her art as long as she painted the subject she was presented with. After her arduous education with the men a woman would always stay a few steps behind her. Everything preparing her for when she would finally meet Sir Dicun Bannister.

Clement and Godiva kept themselves occupied with other matters. Clement worked as one of Lord Alfric's Knights. As for Godiva she would try to learn a few lessons here and there from the other Dames. Though she felt as if she was not welcome amongst them. They seemed to look down on her for the status in which she had been born into. They said that she should consider herself lucky to have been born a rose among weeds. She tried to ignore them as she rubbed her swollen belly. This would be her last baby and she had so much hope for its future. In the nights when she and Clement spent together where precious moments she treasured. She was given three servants to care for her needs that followed her everywhere. Godiva was allowed to go anywhere she pleased as long as she stayed away from her own children.

Clement felt uneasy since the moment he had arrived. He knew what was expected of him as a knight and made sure to always complete his duties. On the times he had to himself he would roam about the estate to try and investigate. He would sometimes hear the servants mention Rebecca every once in a while. Though once he would get close enough for them to see him they would quickly turn silent. There was something Lord Alfric was not telling him about Rebecca and he was going to find out. He tried to make himself as inconspicuous as possible in order to be able to gain as much information as possible. That was the only way he could learn the truth about Rebecca's disappearance. He went to the places which he heard Rebecca frequently went to. There was something that did not feel right.

"Sir Oswald, you have been working as Lord Alfric's knight for years now," interrogated Clement as he took a bite of his meal.

"I have, Sir Clement, but I advise you not to stick your neck in things that do not concern you," warned Oswald as he took a sip of wine from his cup.

"He is using my daughter Victory, I believe that is more than enough reason to make it my business," sneered Clement with a dark fire in his eyes.

"We are not to talk about Rebecca and as for Victory. She is no longer yours," sighed Oswald as he went to take a bite from his meal, "besides she isn't who you should really be worried about. Remember, she is to marry Sir Dicun Bannister and leave this estate. I suggest you stay put until then."

Clement tried to understand what Oswald was telling him, but that meant that his family had something Lord Alfric wanted. He finished his meal and left to try to think about it with a clear head. When it was revealed that Godiva was pregnant Lord Alfric acted strange. He was too excited for a child that wasn't his own. He had been way too generous to the Drataines which made Clement uncomfortable. He wanted something and wasn't for Victory to marry in his daughter's place. He was giving himself a migraine just trying to figure out what it was. He looked out the window and spotted his son in the distance running towards Sir Harold.

"You are late," scolded Sir Harold as he tapped his foot on the ground.

"I apologize, I had to lo-"

"You are still late," growled Sir Harold squaring his lower jaw.

"I am sorry I was working on something Lord Alfr-"

"Look upon my face, does it look like I care?" questioned Sir Harold as he pointed his index finger at himself.

"How should I know if you care not," sassed Cronus as he placed his fists on his hips.

"You insolent, BOY!" thundered Sir Harold as he slapped Cronus across the face causing him to fall to the ground.

Cronus sat up with a groan as he placed a hand to his throbbing lower lip. He could taste something metallic in his mouth which he spit out. His hand touched something wet, which he recognized could not have been saliva. He inspected the tips of his finger, covered in his own blood. He rubbed the warm crimson liquid in his hand. He then moved a fingernail across his lower lip until he felt a small indentation, indicating where the blood was coming from. His mouth trembled and he saw the world in front of him begin to blur.

"I want my mom!" cried Cronus as he crawled away from Sir Harold eventually sprinting off.

"Where do you think you are going?!" yelled Sir Harold as he chased after him, "Get back here!"

Cronus picked up his pace not daring to look back. When he spotted Sir Harold's shadow coming closer to his own he would move faster than before. He did not allow himself to rest in order to catch his breath.  Grateful to the endurance lessons he had endured under Aroldo’s harsh guidance.In that one split second he did dare to glance over his shoulder he smacked right into a very hard surface and fell down.

"Sir Corneleos, help me capture my squire," called Sir Harold as he staggered closer.

Cronus felt a large hand pick him up from the back of his collar, not giving him enough time to react. He had seen Sir Corneleos every once in a while and he was a rather intimidating looking man. The only people he ever talked to were his squire and Lord Alfric.

"Thank... you," huffed Sir Harold as he tried to catch his breath placing his hands on his knees, "he... sure.. is a... fast one. I am just... going to... lay... down for a... bit."

Sir Corneleos raised an eyebrow at him and held Cronus towards him. Seeing that Sir Harold was not taking a hint he held up his other hand and proceeded to count down. Each time he lowered a finger he would lower Cronus down.

"You aren't planning on letting him go, are you?" asked Sir Harold watching Sir Corneleos do his countdown. Letting Sir Harold know that that was exactly what he had planned.

"Alright," groaned Sir Harold jumping up from the ground, "hand him over."

Sir Corneleos shoved Cornus into Sir Harold's arms and continued on his way. Sir Corneleos resembled a huge mountain of a man, Cronus even wondered why Lord Alfric ever bothered with having ten knights at all. When the mere sight of Sir Corneleos would intimidate just about anyone. Better yet what was a man like Sir Corneleos serving anyone less than a King?

"You have wasted enough of my time," spat Sir Harold squeezing one of Cronus’ arms. Cronus whimpered as he felt one of his bones near breaking.

"Cronus, Lord Alfric requested for your presence," spoke a large man in a green coat.

"We will be there shortly, Brutus," responded Sir Harold keeping his hold on Cronus.

"Lord Alfric, did not ask for you, Sir Harld," stated Brutus standing there emotionless.

"What am I to do without a squire?" demanded Sir Harold not loosening his grip on Cronus.

"That is none of my concern, now release Cronus. You do not want to keep Lord Alfric waiting," cautioned Brutus waiting for Cronus to follow him.

"Fine," snarled Sir Harold, throwing Cronus in Brutus' direction.

"A wise choice," spoke Sir Harold as he began to make his way to Lord Alfric's location.

"Ja, I do not care," shrugged Sir Harold as he walked away like a dog with its tail between his legs.

"Did Lord Alfric tell you why he wished to see me, Brutus?" asked Cronus as he followed close behind.

"No, he did not and I did not ask him," said Brutus as he continued on his way.

"You are very close to Lord Alfric," observed Cronus stopping when he caught a glimpse of his older sister. She looked nothing like the girl that grew up in a small farm home. The rags she had worn before were now interchanged with fine silks and furs. Her messy bun was replaced by an elegant updo covered by a plain headdress. He had also gone through several changes but to actually see someone else felt odd.

"Come along," ordered Brutus gliding past Victory's training. A few moment's later Brutus knocked at a door.

"Come in," beckoned Lord Alfric from inside. Brutus opened the door and allowed for Cronus to enter before him. Cronus bowed before Lord Alfric.

"You asked to see me, Lord Alfric," reported Cronus looking up into Lord Alfric's eyes.

"I did, you may go, Brutus," dismissed Lord Alfric waving the back of his hand.

"You do not require anything else from me, my Lord?" asked Brutus, not moving from his spot.

"That would be all, thank you," thanked Lord Alfric making his way to Cronus.

Cronus heard the wooden door close behind him signaling that Brutus had left. He anticipated for Lord Alfric to talk to him.

"It's good to have you here, Cronus. I have something I wish to discuss with you," spoke Lord Alfric, "now don't just stand there come closer."

“What is it that you need from me?” asked Cronus, moving closer and maintaining eye contact.

“Remember, what you used to kill one of my men?” interrogated Lord Alfric as he tapped his fingers on his desk.

“ I recall,” answered Cronus, not sure where Lord Alfric was going with this.

“You will recreate that weapon for me,” ordered Lord Alfric sitting down in the only seat in the room.

“What happens if I refuse?” asked Cronus, aware of the dangers of that weapon.

“Are you saying no? To me?” snarled Lord Alfric rising from his seat.

“I am not, but I have to warn you. My creations are not to be taken lightly,” warned Cronus planting his feet firmly to the ground, “in the wrong hands they can destroy oth-”

“Or they can be used to conquer worlds,” interrupted Lord Alfric sitting back down, “How soon will you have one completed?”

“It took me a year to make the one I had,” replied Cronus feeling anxious.

“What happened to the one you used?” inquired Lord Alfric tilting his head to the side.

“It only has one use, after that the inside becomes a mess,” lied Cronus not looking away all those Bullshit games paid off, “so, I melted it and reused the material.”

“I see, you said it took you a year to create just one by yourself,” reasoned Lord Alfric rubbing his chin, “If you had help, you might be able to create a few sooner. Starting tomorrow, you and the other Blacksmiths will start to work on that weapon.”

“This is something that I would much rather work by myself,” argued Cronus knowing the perils of that project.

“I said the OTHER Blacksmiths are going to help you,” snarled Lord Alfric, “now go.”

“Yes, my Lord,” bowed Cronus exiting the room. He left feeling really uneasy. He did not want to create something so dangerous for a man that was lunatic. The only hope he now possesses was to try and stall that weapons creation for as long as possible. He made his way back over to Sir Harold. Sir Harold had him polish his armor and sharpen his sword. As he polished the sword his father sat down next to him.

“I heard, Lord Alfric wished to talk to you,” commented Clement, not looking at Cronus.

“He did, Father, he wants me to make a weapon for him. The same weapon I-”

“I know, what are you planning?” asked Clement leaning forward.

“I can try and stall,” reasoned Cronus as he continued to sharpen Sir Harold’s sword, “we have to get out of here.”

“We can't leave just yet, Cronus. Not until the night of Victory's wedding. It should give us as much cover to help us get away,”informed Clement.

“I do not think I can stall until then,”argued Cronus feeling a noose around his neck,”and what about Victory we can't just leave her here.”

“We can, and we will. She is going to be fine without us,” lamented Clement biting his lower lip.

“How is production on my weapon going, Cronus?”interrogated Lord Alfric, a darkness in the air.

“I have created one, but I'm not sure if it's safe to use. It has a few problems here and there,” answered Cronus as his eyes wandered over to Baldric.

“Do you have one to show me?” asked Lord Alfric, tapping his fingers on the wood of his seat.

“I do, my Lord,” replied Cronus showing a red cloth that covered something within.

“That is wonderful! Come closer I want to see it,” ordered Lord Alfric, his eyes sparkling.

Cronus stepped closer unveiling an elegant small pistol. The handle had been made with the bone of an animal and it had delicate carvings of leaves decorating it. It was a bit larger than the one he had created for himself, but it was useful for the purpose he had created it. He named the pistol Backfired. He designed Backfired to do just that, fire back at its shooter. Lord Alfric grabbed a hold of Backfired and held it up in the air to inspect it.

“It is like a travel size cannon,” smirked Lord Alfric, “Do the other Blacksmiths know how to make this?”

“They do,” answered Cronus keeping his eyes on Lord Alfric.

“Good,” sighed Lord Alfric as he pointed Backfired at Cronus’ head. Then he lowered the pistol down seeing as how Cronus did not even flinch.

“Either Sir Harold has been training you well, or you are a lot smarter than you look,” calculated Lord Alfric an evil smile forming on his lips, “I am guessing it's the latter of the two. BRUTUS, HOLD DOWN CRONUS FOR ME!”

Brutus seemed to appear out of thin air and he held Cronus tightly in place. Cronus could do nothing but watch in horror as Lord Alfric put a large wooden board on top of Baldric.

“THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS TO THOSE THAT BETRAY ME!” shouted Lord Alfric as he began to pile up stones on the wood. The only things Cronus could hear were the stones falling on top and the cries of his baby brother.

Previous Chapter :

https://deusaeverythingcomestoanend.tumblr.com/post/616174428018065408/d-series-the-pirate

#the pirate #working on it

[dennybelrose-blog]

I’m 30 years old and the smell of spring still means one thing: it’s time to start making a hideous picture collage to paste into the lid of my camp trunk. (For those of you who didn’t go to camp, a camp trunk is where you stored all of your belongings for camp).

Photo courtesy of Pinterest

It’s an understatement to say that the summer program my parents found for me in 5th grade—and continued to send me to through high school—was anything less than a religious experience. I loved it there. I loved the friends I made, the awful food we ate, the breathless abandon with which we ran through sloped meadows wearing tutus, Viking helmets and whatever other bedazzled items we could dig out of the shed-sized costume closet. I lived and breathed Camp, yes, with a capital C. I spent the months leading up to summer compulsively checking an online countdown calendar calibrated to the second, and I spent the months following my time at camp in inconsolable tears.

In short, I was a nightmare. My mom would try to get me out of the house to see friends from school and I’d end up on the floor sobbing, “But they don’t understand Camp! The real world isn’t the same!”

Good grief. Mom, if you’re reading this, I’m really sorry about that.

Temper tantrums aside, it would seem my parents found the perfect summer experience for me. All-consuming. Safe. Wacky. An oasis so separate from the stressors and realities of middle and high school that the experience felt singularly affecting. It was also singularly devastating when, after a botched summer working in the kitchen at this particular camp, they didn’t hire me back as a counselor.

Suddenly, in the midst of my first year of college, dealing with anxieties and insecurities so pervasive I essentially stopped eating, I found myself without the only social safety net I’d ever been willing to rely on. More importantly, I found myself without the tools or coping mechanisms I needed in order to build a new net.

This story ultimately has a happy ending—that initial shock kicked off what turned into a full decade of discovery through outdoor education, travel and what I’ve come to think of as a love affair with the very same “real world” that I once felt compelled to dismiss.

Photo by Joel Reid

I still wouldn’t trade the summers I spent at camp even now, but with some distance I also recognize elements I would change if I could offer that experience to my teenage self again. The subject came up among a few of my Outward Bound colleagues the other day, and it turns out they had a lot they wanted to change about summer programs they attended as well, much of which overlapped. Here are a few things we talked about:

Distance

The general consensus here seemed to be further = better. I hesitate to say it’s absolutely a mistake to choose a program close to home, because I recognize the decision often has to do with affordability. The further a program, the more cost prohibitive it can be. However, it’s not just physical distance I’m talking about here. Sure, seeing another part of the country or even the world is valuable, but only insofar as it offers the opportunity to broaden one’s perspective. Two weeks up the road can be just as valuable as two weeks 1,000 miles away as long as the social sphere is something new. My friend and Outward Bound colleague, James, talked about how his summer programs always involved the same people he knew from school—the same relationships, the same cliques, the same disagreements. I felt similarly about mine; sure, the camp drew from different schools across the state, but ultimately we all looked the same: socioeconomically, ethnically and philosophically. There’s a lot to be said for taking the time to seek out a program designed to challenge and broaden a child’s point of view, as opposed to to solidify it.

Entertainment vs. Education

When considering summer programs, I think one of the greatest pitfalls and biggest seductions is to look at programs promising entertainment above all else. I don’t mean to say a summer program should be miserable or that it should sacrifice fun, because fun is important. Fun is powerful. Fun is fun. But it shouldn’t come at the expense of meaningful education.

I’m talking about space camps, science and nature programs, theater and arts retreats, and I’m also talking about programs designed to teach kids the kind of resilience I found myself woefully lacking as soon as I left camp (or, more accurately, as soon as camp left me). Of course we want to give our children a safe place, somewhere they can experience joy and acceptance, which is what my camp gave me, but it came at the expense of my own perspective. I could not apply the joy or confidence I felt at camp to the rest of my life and no one there ever asked me to.

Specialization

The camp I went to had all of the classic activities: horseback riding, archery, a ropes course, crafts, the pool (Colorado’s stand-in for the obligatory camp lake). At the top of the hour—every hour—each cabin of campers would make a pilgrimage from one activity to the next. Chop chop, everyone, set down your lanyards and glitter, pick up a bow and arrow! I never really had the chance, or the obligation, to stick with a particular skill set. Whether I liked a thing or not, it would change over in an hour.

I watch the kind of personal transformations that happen on something like an Outward Bound 22-day backpacking course, and can’t help but think how beneficial it is to get ample time with a certain activity. It allows for a deeper knowledge of skill, yes, but I think it also necessitates a more rigorous accounting for self. There’s not as much room to hide from your peers or yourself when you’re working within specific constraints, especially for an extended period of time.

Photo by Ben Goodman

Gender

I probably would have thrown a prodigious fit if my parents had tried to send me to an all-girls camp. In fact, I did throw a prodigious fit when one well-meaning high school counselor suggested I might do well at a women’s university. Something in me rejected the idea, I think in large part because I was so preoccupied with being able to compete with boys on their own stage. I’ve since thought a lot about that impulse and dedicated many conversations along many miles of trail with friends, colleagues and other outdoor educators to turning over the question of whether single-gender programming is more beneficial than co-ed.

One blurb in one blog will not answer that question, but I can say that for myself, if I could go back, I would not throw any more fits. I would jump at the opportunity to gift my adolescent self the space to explore without the kind of performance or preening that being in front of boys seemed to require of us all. Likewise, I think boys benefit from the same kind of space. I’ve seen incredible outcomes, especially when it comes to outdoor adventure programming like Outward Bound. I’m thinking specifically of a single-gender course that Outward Bound in Colorado ran last summer. I happened to be on airport duty the day the course ended, so I had the chance to spend a few hours with the girls on the drive and in the airport waiting for their flights home. It was incredible. Even in that limited amount of time, I could feel the power of their experience. One student called her mom on the drive and couldn’t keep from gushing, “I did it. I did it. But I never could have finished without all of the other girls.”

This is something that happens on many courses. Students learn how to rely on each other, to raise each other up—but it was particularly noticeable with this course. In the absence of boys, the physicality of the tasks at hand stopped mattering, and every one of those girls left saying how capable they knew themselves to be. I did my best not to start sobbing. Let me tell you, I didn’t do a great job.

Photo by Theo Theobald

Capability, Curiosity, Passion and Strength

Soon the first students of the season will start arriving at the Outward Bound basecamp in Leadville, CO, and I guarantee at least half of them will show up calling Outward Bound “summer camp.” That’s fine, but I hope they realize there’s a reason we call our expeditions courses, and the people on them students. It’s not a vacation; it’s an education. I worked with an Instructor last season who opened his course by telling the story of how Kurt Hahn, Outward Bound’s founder, wanted to train young sailors how to survive in rough seas. This Instructor congratulated his students on choosing to leave their homes—their safe harbors—in order to face the challenge of the open ocean. Then, on the final day of the course, he sat all the students down and told them that in fact Outward Bound was the safe harbor, and they needed to now go forward in their lives, into open water, using the skills they had learned. This is the kind of education I hope every kid receives out of their summer program: the education of capability, curiosity, passion and strength. I hope they discover the knowledge that they possess such qualities no matter the time or place or circumstance.

About the Author

Kate is a logistics coordinator for the Rocky Mountain Program at the Colorado Outward Bound School in Leadville, Colorado. She holds an MFA from the University of Montana and currently splits her time between working in the high country and relaxing in Denver, where she walks her sister’s dog and eats her parents’ food.

The post What to Look for in a Summer Program for Your Child appeared first on Outward Bound.

[highvibesmorning]

Pride and Prejudice Commentary - Episode 1

(Collab with @bluefanguy who will be referred to as ‘Bro’)

Lizzy: Oh, look! Charlotte is come. Charlotte!

 Charlotte: Lizzy! My father is to give a party at Lucas Lodge and you are all invited!

 Me: All right, a party!

 (Lucas Lodge. Piano-playing and people standing around just talking)

 Me: This isn't what I had in mind.

Bro: This isn’t the type of party I would go to.

Me: So what are we watching?

Bro: This. Pride and Prejudice, the 1995 BBC miniseries. There’s six episodes altogether, each one at least 40 minutes long.

Me: 40 minutes? Man, that’s long.

Bro: Yeah, but it sticks to the book more so than the other adaptations. Some characters in other adaptations are cut out altogether.

Me: So, what’s it about?

Bro: Courtship, love, drama, class or lack thereof. That sort of thing. And with that, let’s get to watching!

1) Kitty: Mamma, mamma! Lydia has torn up my bonnet and says she will wear it to church. Tell her she shall not, mamma!

 Lydia: I shall wear it, mamma! I beg you tell her, after it's all my own work. She'd be a fright in it because she's too plain to look well in it! No, you shall not have it!

 Me: This doesn’t sound like a happy family.

 Mrs. Bennet: Lydia! Kitty! Girls! Would you tear my nerves into shreds? Let her have it, Kitty.

 Kitty: But it's mine! You let her have everything that is mine!

 Me/Kitty: (grabs the bonnet and tears it)

Bro/Lydia: Kitty! How could you?!

Me/Kitty: If I can’t wear it, then nobody can!

2) Lizzy: For a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife.

Mrs. Bennet: Yes, he must indeed!

Bro: Good choice of words there, Lizzy. Sounds like it could be a headline for a book.

 3) Mrs. Bennet: No! I beg you will not write if you- You take delight in vexing me! You have no compassion on my poor nerves!

 Mr. Bennet: You mistake me, my dear. I have a high respect for your nerves. They've been my old friends for 20 years least.

 Mrs. Bennet: You don't know what I suffer.

 Me: Well, she’s gonna be a delight.

 Bro: And that’s putting it lightly.

  4) Mary: Misfortunes, we are told, are sent to test our fortitude, and may often reveal themselves as blessings in disguise.

 Me: What?

 Bro: What misfortunes? All that happened was Mr. Bennet saying he wouldn’t go see Mr. Bingley. Nothing bad happened. I swear, this girl just likes to try to sound smart for no reason.

  5) Lydia: (lies down on the couch) Lord, I'm so hungry!

 Bro: I get the feeling this is the only time I will relate to this girl.

  6) Lizzy: (To Jane) With father's estate entailed away from the female line, we have little but our charms to recommend us. One of us at least will have to marry very well. And since you're quite five times as pretty as the rest of us, and have the sweetest disposition, I fear the task will fall on you to raise our fortunes.

 Bro: Wow Lizzy. Way to put pressure on Jane.

  7) Lydia: Mr. Bingley has come to Netherfield!

 Kitty: Sir William Lucas called on him!

 Lydia: Save your breath to cool your porridge, Kitty. I will tell Mamma.

 Kitty: (coughs)

 Mrs. Bennet: I do not wish to know.

 Kitty: (coughs again)

 Mrs. Bennet: What should we care for Mr. Bingley, since we are never be acquainted with him?

 Kitty: (coughs more)

 Mrs. Bennet: Don't keep coughing so, Kitty! Have a little compassion on my nerves.

 Kitty: I don't cough for my own amusement.

 Me: And then Kitty went into a severe coughing fit and died.

 Bro/Mrs. Bennet: Kitty, stop coughing to death and think about my nerves!

  8) Lydia: And he’s promised to come to the next ball!

 Kitty: At the Assembly Rooms!

 Lydia: On Saturday!

 Kitty: And bring six ladies and four gentlemen.

 Lydia: Nay, it was 12 ladies and seven gentlemen.

 Lizzy: Too many ladies.

 Me: That’s a bad thing?

  9) (Everyone at the Assembly Ball is dancing, until they all stop to look at Mr. Bingley, Mr. Darcy, Caroline, Louisa and Mr. Hurst)

 Me: Why did they stop dancing?

 Bro: And why are we looking at those five like they’re important?

  10) Mrs. Bennet: Lizzy, oh lord! [Sir Lucas and Mr. Bingley] are coming over! Smile, girls. Smile.

 (Sir Lucas and Mr. Bingley walk over to Mrs. Bennet, Lizzy and Jane)

 Sir Lucas: Mrs. Bennet, Mr. Bingley has expressed a wish to become acquainted with you and your daughters.

 Me: Then why doesn’t he do it himself?

 Bro: It was a social custom back then that to meet someone, you needed someone else to introduce you.

 Me: That doesn’t make any sense.

 Bro: Just go with it.

  11) (Mr. Bingley and Jane walk over to two women as he greets them)

 Bro: You see those ladies?

 Me: The one in the blue dress and the one in the golden-yellow dress?

 Bro: Yeah. The one in the blue is Charlotte Lucas and her younger sister’s name is Maria. They’re Sir Lucas’ daughters. Keep that in mind.

 Me: (puzzled) Okay.

  12) Mr. Darcy: You know perfectly well it would be a punishment to me to stand up with any other woman in the room.

 Mr. Bingley: Good God, Darcy! I wouldn't be as fastidious as you are for a kingdom! Upon my honour, I never met so many pleasant girls in my life! Several of them uncommonly pretty.

 Mr. Darcy: You have been dancing with the only handsome girl in the room.

 Mr. Bingley: Darcy, she is the most beautiful creature I ever beheld. Look, look!

 (gestures to Lizzy)

 There's one of her sisters. She's very pretty too. I daresay very agreeable.

 Mr. Darcy: She is tolerable, I suppose

 Me: (eyes widen)

 Bro: Ooh...

 Mr. Darcy: But she’s not handsome enough to tempt me.

  13) (Lizzy walks up and walks past Mr. Darcy and he sees Lizzy talking to Charlotte)

 Me: I think she heard him.

 Bro: Who wouldn’t?!

  14) Mr. Bingley: Darcy, I shall never understand why you go through the world determined to be displeased with everything and everyone in it.

 Me/Mr. Darcy: Because I'm rich. I can afford not to give a damn.

  15) Lizzy: Oh, look! Charlotte is come. Charlotte!

 Charlotte: Lizzy! My father is to give a party at Lucas Lodge and you are all invited!

 Me: All right, a party!

 (Lucas Lodge. Piano-playing and people standing around just talking)

 Me: This isn't what I had in mind.

 Bro: This isn’t the type of party I would go to.

  16) Mrs. Bennet: (talking to Lady Lucas) And he would dance every dance with Jane. Nothing else would do. And-

 Lady Lucas: And are you pleased with Hertfordshire, Colonel Forster?

 Bro/Lady Lucas: Finally, I got Mrs. Bennet to shut up.

  17) Caroline: (to Louisa) Poor Darcy. What agonies he must be suffering.

 Mr. Darcy: (standing around, looking displeased)

 Bro: You’d think someone as rich and uncaring towards the country lower class couldn’t care less about showing up to these things. It’s not like he cares what they think.

  18) Lizzy: Are you in Meryton to subdue the discontented populace, sir, or do you defend Hertfordshire against the French?

 Colonel Forster: Neither, ma'am, I trust. We hope to winter very peacefully at Meryton.

 Me: Wait, they hope to what?

 Bro: He said 'winter peacefully.'

 Me: But winter's a noun, not a verb. It’s weird to verbalize a noun. "Where should we lunch today, bro?”

 Bro: "At Whataburger. Afterwards, we'll music very energetically as we television very soothingly."  

  19) Sir Lucas: What a charming amusement for young people this is, Mr. Darcy! Nothing like dancing, you know! One of the refinements of every polished society.

 Mr. Darcy: And every unpolished society.

 Sir Lucas: Sir?

 Mr. Darcy: Every savage can dance.

 Bro: So, does that mean a gentleman who refuses to dance is less than a savage?

  20) Sir Lucas: Miss Eliza! Why are you not dancing?

 Me/Lizzy: I-

 Sir Lucas: Mr. Darcy, allow me to present this young lady to you as a very desirable partner. You cannot refuse to dance, I'm sure, when so much beauty is before you.

 Lizzy: Indeed, sir. I have not the least intention of dancing. Please don't suppose that I moved this way in order to beg for a partner.

 Mr. Darcy: I would be happy if you would do me the honor of dancing with me, Miss Bennet.

 Lizzy: Thank you. But excuse me, I am not inclined to dance.

 Sir Lucas: Come, come, why not, when you see Mr. Darcy has no objection?

 Bro: Sir Lucas, first of all, you have two eligible daughters of your own. Focus on them. Or do you think Lizzy better than your own daughters and want bragging rights over getting her and Mr. Darcy together? Second, Lizzy said no. Man, even back then a woman couldn’t say no without being pestered.

  21) Caroline: I believe I can guess your thoughts at this moment.

 Me/Mr. Darcy: Dear God, I hope not.

  22) (Longbourn. The Bennets are eating in the dining room. Jane has received a letter)

 Mrs. Bennet: From Netherfield! Oh, Jane! Well, what does it say?

 Jane: It is from Miss Bingley.

 Mrs. Bennet: Oh, well, that is a good sign, too. Give it to me. (snatches the letter from Jane)

 Me/Jane: Hey!

  23) Jane: May I have the carriage, father?

 (Mr. Bennet nearly answers until Mrs. Bennet interrupts him)

 Mrs. Bennet: The carriage! No, indeed. You must go on horseback, for it looks like rain. Then you will have to stay the night.

 Bro: Excuse me, Jane asked her father, not you.

 Jane: Mother!

 Mrs. Bennet: Why do you look at me like that? Would you go there without seeing Mr. Bingley? No, indeed. You will go on Nellie. That will do very well indeed.

 Bro: Well, Mr. Bennet? Aren't you going to do anything?

 (Jane rides in the rain)

 Bro: Apparently he’ll do absolutely nothing like any good patriarchal figure.

 Me: And then Jane got very ill and died. The end!

  24) Louisa: Now, let me see if I've got this right, Jane. Your mother's sister is named Mrs. Philips?

 Jane: Yes.

 Louisa: And Mr. Philips' estate is in?

 Jane: He lives in Meryton. He's an attorney.

 (Caroline gives a condescending sneer)

 Bro: Some of us have to work, Caroline. We all can’t be rich but useless like certain ladies.

 Louisa: And your mother's brother lives in London?

 Jane: Yes. In Gracechurch Street.

 Caroline: In which part of London is Gracechurch Street, Jane?

 Me: The part he works in. Next question, please!

  25) Mr. Bennet: Well, my dear, if Jane should die of this fever, it will be comfort to know that it was all in pursuit of Mr. Bingley and under your orders.

 Mrs. Bennet: Oh, nonsense! People do not die of little trifling colds.

 Me: Then the next time it rains, we’ll throw you out and see if it’s true.

  26) Lizzy: Mamma, I think I must go to Netherfield.

 Mrs. Bennet: Go to Netherfield? No, there's no call for that! Jane is very well where she is. And you know there is nothing for you in Netherfield.

 ...

 Lizzy: I know that Jane would wish me to be with her.

 Mrs. Bennet: I suppose that is a hint for me to send for the carriage.

 Lizzy: No, indeed father, for I'd much rather walk. It is barely three miles to Netherfield and I'll be back for dinner.

 Mrs. Bennet: Walk three miles in all that dirt? You'll not be fit to be seen.

 Bro: Well if there’s nothing for Lizzy in Netherfield, then that really doesn’t matter.

  27) Mr. Darcy: Miss Bennet.

 Lizzy: Mr. Darcy. I am come to enquire after my sister.

 Mr. Darcy: On foot?

 Bro/Lizzy: No, I came here on my magic carpet. It’s behind that tree over there.

  28) Louisa: But Jane Bennet is a sweet girl. It's very sad she should have such an unfortunate family. Such low connections.

 Me: Yeah. How dare she not be given a say on what family to be born into.

 Caroline: Their uncle, she told us, is in trade, and lives in Cheapside!

 Louisa: Perhaps we should call, when we are next in town.

 Mr. Bingley: They would be just as agreeable to me, had they uncles enough to fill all Cheapside!

 Mr. Darcy: With such connections, they can have very little chance of marrying well, Bingley. That is the material point.

 Me: Material point?

 Bro: Back then, women had to marry a man with money in order to survive. It was either that or die.

 Me: Ohh. Now I get it.

  29) (Lizzy reading a book as Mr. Darcy walks towards her)

 Mr. Darcy: May I inquire after your sister, Miss Bennet?

 Me/Lizzy: No, you may not.

  30) (Caroline noticing Mr. Darcy writing a letter)

 Caroline: And what do you do so secretly, sir?

 Mr. Darcy: It's no secret. I'm writing to my sister.

 Bro: In here? When you could've done it in a room where there’s no people?

  31) Mr. Bingley: Mrs. Bennet! You are very welcome! I hope you don't find Miss Bennet worse than you expected.

 Mrs. Bennet: Indeed I do, sir! She's very ill indeed, and suffers a vast deal.

 Bro: I wonder whose bright idea it was to send her out in the first place?

 Me/Mr. Bingley: Then I can’t understand why she would be riding out in the rain if she gets sick easily?

  32) (Caroline reading a book and puts it down, then walks over to Mr. Darcy to look at what he's reading)

 Bro: It’d be hilarious if Darcy woke up from a nap and said, “I just had a terrible nightmare but after seeing your face...I’d rather go back!”

  33) Caroline: Shocking! Abominable reply! How shall we punish him, Miss Eliza?

 Lizzy: Nothing so easy. Tease him. Laugh at him.

 Caroline: Laugh at Mr. Darcy? Impossible!

 Me: No it's not. It's easy. Watch: Hahahahahaha.

  34) Mr. Darcy: But it has been my study to avoid those weaknesses which expose a strong understanding to ridicule.

 Lizzy: Such as vanity, perhaps, and pride?

 Mr. Darcy: Yes, vanity is a weakness, indeed. But pride where there is a superiority of mind, pride will always be under good regulation. I have faults enough, Miss Bennet, but I hope they're not of understanding. My temper I cannot vouch for. It might be called resentful. My good opinion, once lost, is lost forever.

 Lizzy: That is a failing indeed, but I cannot laugh at it.

 Mr. Darcy: I believe every disposition has a tendency to some particular evil.

 Lizzy: Your defect is a propensity to hate everyone.

 Mr. Darcy: Well yours is willfully to misunderstand them.

 Me: This is getting good.

 Caroline: Shall we have some music?

 Bro: No, no, no, no, Caroline. Let them continue!

  35) (Outside. Mr. Bingley and a few servants with Jane and Lizzy in a carriage, ready to ride off)

  Mr. Bingley: Give your parents my warmest salutations. And tell your father he is most welcome coming to shoot with us at any time convenient.

 Jane: Thank you, sir. You are very kind.

 Mr. Bingley: Goodbye.

 Jane: Goodbye.

Me/Lizzy: (a few feet away from Netherfield and pokes head out to see Mr. Bingley and four other servants dance to this)

(Me/Lizzy looks ahead in shock)

 Bro/Jane: Lizzy, are you alright?

 Me/Lizzy: I-I’m fine, Jane. I’m sure Papa will be very happy to see you.

#pride and prejudice #pride and prejudice 1995 #commentary #pride and prejudice episode 1

[my-dear-hammy]

Basking in Firelight-Jamilton Sequel-Part Forty Two

Masterpost

Part Forty-Two: Voluntold Candidates

AN

I just want to apologize in advance for this chapter, I wrote it on my phone on the go and on my laptop as it decided to go on the fritz, so there's probably a lot of mistakes. I'll go over all the chapters at once sometime soon though.

And update on the animatic for The Impossible Deut- I've got three frames done. I know, so much. Really moving fast, huh?

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Warnings below

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Madison was rudely woken up by a pounding on his door that his head decided to mimic. He may have had a little too much last night. The pounding came again and Madison knew it wasn't going to stop until he answered the door. Achingly slow, he crawled out of bed and answered the door.

Fuck. He went to shut the door but Hamilton's hand stopped it. Madison left it open and walked back into the house, going to make himself some coffee. Hamilton let himself in and closed the door behind him.

"Madison, I need to talk to you."

"Coffee," was all Madison said.

Hamilton sighed and waited until Madison was drinking his coffee. "Why are you here so early in the morning?" Madison finally asked.

"It's after noon, Madison. Why are you just getting up?"

Madison groaned, he hadn't meant to sleep in that, he had to go check in on Jefferson. "Why are you here, Hamilton? Couldn't you just have called? You got a new phone, didn't you?" he asked. His head was killing him and now he had to find his phone to text Jefferson.

"I need you to tell what happened to Jefferson." The sentence in itself was self-explanatory. This wasn't something to be discussed over the phone.

Madison froze. "What do you mean?"

He hesitated. Madison had hesitated. Hamilton was right, something was up and Madison knew about it. "You know what I mean. Something happened to Jefferson and I need to know."

"What's it matter to you? It's not like you hang out with him anymore." Madison looked around for his phone.

"Because I-" Hamilton stopped short. "Because it's obvious and he's my friend."

"It's not for me to tell," Madison said, spotting his phone on the couch.

"Well, Jefferson's not going to share because he doesn't know me so I need you to tell me."

"He doesn't know you because you didn't bother sticking around and helping him with his memory loss. Maybe if you put more of an effort into being there for your friend, he might be more willing to share." Madison walked over and grabbed his phone.

"For fuck's sake, please, I'm just trying to help."

Madison looked at him, "Why should I tell you?"

"Because-" shit. Hamilton couldn't say it.

"Well?"

"Because I love him, okay? Are you happy now?"

Madison looked at Hamilton in shock. Why hadn't he realized it? It was so glaringly obvious. "When did that happen? You hated each other?" Madison asked.

"Over two hundred and thirty plus years ago," Hamilton answered, collapsing on Madison's couch, rubbing his face.

Shit. Madison hadn't expected it to go that far back. "And Jefferson?"

"Felt the same way. Until recently that is. We've been together since the late 1700's and we found each other again over a year ago, almost two now, then it all went to shit eight months ago when he woke up and didn't know who I was."

"I didn't realize you were so close," Madison said.

"Were. Look, Madison, are you going to tell me or not?"

Madison sighed and sat down as well. "It was couple nights ago. He wasn't answering his phone, he always answers his phone. So I went over, let myself in with the key he gave me. The house seemed empty so I was about to leave when I heard glass shatter. I know you and Jefferson are still targeted by people, so I was immediately on high alert. I walked into his bedroom and saw something I never expected. Jefferson was sitting at the foot of his bed, entire posture lax and uncaring, empty bottles of alcohol were all over the room and a full one in his hand. I was in shock. Then I saw the gleaming silver gun in his other hand. He looked up at me and said, "Nice of you to join the party!" I asked what he was doing he just shrugged and said, "Drinking and contemplating death. Do you think it's better? I was about to see if I could find out." Hamilton, he got so close. I yelled at him and I guess something I said struck a cord, because he tossed the gun on the floor, got up, handed me his bottle, and went to sleep. I called Lafayette to see if he knew what to do. I stayed there to make sure he didn't do anything stupid. The next day, he woke up, cleaned everything, and just seemed to have snapped back to himself. A sad, depressed version, but he was himself. He threw out all the alcohol he had except like one bottle of wine or something. That was the day of the celebration."

"Fuck," Hamilton whispered, "I didn't know he was that bad."

"I don't think any of us did." Madison looked at his phone and sent off a text.

Hamilton's thoughts turned inward, remembering the moment he found out Jefferson didn't know him, how he ran out and into an alleyway and contemplated the same exact thing. Their lives weren't supposed to be this way. "Thanks, Madison. I gotta go." Hamilton walked out the door before anything else could be said.

***

"Hamilton knows."

Damn.

Jefferson's eyes darted over Madison's text again. Hamilton just didn't give up, did he? If he didn't get what he wanted one way, he'd manage to get it through another. Jefferson was in the office at his house, reclining in the comfy chair, feet up on the desk.

Jefferson was actually kinda impressed. Determination was a trait he strongly admired.

Now that the Constitution was written and finally ratified. They were officially out of an oligarchy and were a republic once again. A stronger, better republic. Jefferson was proud. Now all that was left to do was to get it up and running, starting with the presidential elections. Bets were going around, Madison, Hamilton, Lafayette, Burr and himself all had their bets placed on Washington and Adams as the first presidents. The rest of the group wasn't so sure.

But Jefferson and those who remembered knew that history was repeating itself, there was only one way the elections could turn out. And that was with Washington and Adams leading the nation. Luckily, France didn't seem to be delving into their own revolution. Now if they could just avoid a world war, they'd be all set. Then Jefferson could go back to the quiet life he always wanted doing-

Jefferson's phone slipped out of his hands and thudded onto the floor. Doing what?

What did he use to do? He couldn't remember. He started to panic slightly, he planted his feet on the floor and held his head in his hands. What did he use to do? What were his hobbies? His interests? How did he always dream of spending his time when he wasn't knee deep in national turmoil? Surely he enjoyed doing something in his down time.

Reading. He loved to read. But that was obvious and he wasn't going to be able to read for the rest of his life, even if he loved it so much. There was writing, but what would there be to write about after all this smoothed out? What else?

He couldn't remember.

He bent down and scooped up his phone and scrolled through his contacts. Who would know? Who could he ask? Madison. Madison would know. Jefferson's thumb hovered over Madison's name, then, in a split-second decision, he scrolled up and punched Hamilton's name instead.

Hamilton's reply was almost immediate, which was scary, considering it's length.

"Gardening. You loved to garden. You used to have this massive garden at Monticello where you'd sit, digging through the dirt, sweat glistening on your skin as the hot Virginia sun beat at you with its sweltering heat. You planted all sorts of things. Flowers, vines, leafy greens, vegetables, bushes, anything you could think of. You would have Lafayette send you plants from France to plant in your garden and you collected rare species that was unknown to Virginia soil. You loved that garden."

"You also loved architecture. You designed Monticello. Countless times in fact. You would tear it down and then rebuild it all over again to get it just right. You also designed the Virginia State Capital, along with several other things."

Hamilton just kept sending paragraph after paragraph.

"Astronomy. You used to drag me out of my office in the middle of the night saying, "If you're not coming to bed then you're at least going to stay awake with me and watch the stars." I'd always complain. You loved charting them. In fact, when you sent Lewis and Clark off on their expedition, you specifically told them to chart and study the stars on their travels."

"You were an inventor. Always fiddling with things and trying to make things better. The swivel chair seems to still be popular. You also invented macaroni, a dish I personally think the world was better without, but whatever. The iron plow. That was life changing for farmers everywhere who used wood ones that didn't work well and made erosion a problem for crops. You also invented the dumbwaiter. You know, those little tiny elevators that are used to deliver food but are typically shown in movies as a place the kids crawl into. The pedometer, that thing that tracks how far you walk. And the wheel cipher to code messages with. Just to name a few. Your mind was always ticking away at the oddest things."

"You also used to keep mockingbirds. You were particularly attached to one you named Dick. You let him fly around the presidential cabinet and perch on your shoulder."

"Of course, there was reading, writing, and violin playing. You also played cello. You were an obsessive book collector. Your collection reached over six thousand novels, six thousand four hundred and eighty-seven to be exact. The Library of Congress bought them all to replace what had been burned by the British in the war of 1812. You also went fossil hunting, you discovered a prehistoric sloth that was named in your honor."

"You loved to take long walks and horseback rides. You'd go fishing all the time and bring it back to cook. You never let me cook because you enjoyed it so much and plus the added fact that I'd burn the house down. We used to joke that it'd give you an excuse to remodel."

"You hated to be stagnate. You always had to be doing something. You just tended to prefer it to be your home life and not politics, but you deemed the nation more important."

Jefferson didn't realize he did so much. "Thanks, Hamilton, that really helped."

"Anytime."

Jefferson set his phone aside and looked around the room. He couldn't garden here, there was no soil and he didn't want to get potted plants. That just felt like cheating, plus, he didn't want to stay in New York much longer than he had to. There was no green unless he went looking for it. Just city. He couldn't do astronomy because it was day. His thoughts were cut off when his phone rang.

"Hamilton? What-"

"Thomas, look out your window at the street and tell me what you see," Hamilton said quickly.

"That's a weird reason to call me," Jefferson said, standing, "couldn't you just have texted me?"

"Just do it."

"Hold your horses, I'm getting there."

"Hurry up."

Jefferson pulled back the second-floor curtains and looked down at the street. "Holy shit," he breathed.

"I know. It's the same outside my hotel."

A sea of people covered the street below like ants on a soda can. They were waving signs and shouting things that Jefferson couldn't quite make out due to the thick glass of his windows and his poor vision. Jefferson retrieved his glasses and pushed open his window. The signs they were waving mostly said, "Jefferson 4 President!" or "Jefferson has my vote!" A couple people saw him on the window and immediately started pointing, shouting, and waving. Soon the entire street was cheering like a crashing wave. Jefferson waved back which only earned him more screams.

"Well, fuck, they saw me. Now I gotta go talk to them," Jefferson said, ducking back into the window.

"Way ahead of ya," Hamilton said, "I'm in the elevator."

"We're going to get trampled."

"Say you gotta go meet with someone else important. Madison, Washington, Lafayette. I dunno. Escape plan."

"Good idea. Gotta go." Jefferson hung up his phone, pulled on his most favorite and flashiest coat swung open the door, and stepped outside.

***

Madison was at home, sitting on the couch, a blanket over his lap, a bowl of soup in his hand, and the t.v. remote in the other, nursing another cold. He was flipping through the channels when he stopped on one.

"I'm currently standing outside Jefferson's door at the edge of this unruly mob," said the newswoman. "I'm starting to wonder if they're going to break down the door. How are things on your end, Jim?"

"Over here is not much different, Katie. The street to Hamilton's hotel is jam packed with fans cheering him on for the upcoming elections," Jim answered, the screen splitting in two to show them both. There was a sudden commotion on Katie's screen.

"Jefferson has appeared in the window and is waving to his fans. He seems to be on the phone with someone," Katie reported, the camera zooming in on Jefferson's face. He disappeared a moment later, the crowd saddening.

"There's been no appearance from Hamilton as of yet. I've heard reports that there are crowds outside every general that served the rebel cause in the war, though none quite to the degree of these crowds out here today. It seems all of New York is out showing their support for their candidates. Washington-" The cheers of the crowds from both screen cut him off, both reporters spun to see Jefferson and Hamilton emerge simultaneously from their buildings. The reporters started frantically shoving their way to the front.

"Jefferson, tell us what you're thinking right now as a candidate in the first election of the new republic you help fight for and create!" Katie the Reporter shouted, elbowing someone in the face.

Jefferson laughed and ruffled his hair, causing several girls to swoon. "I hadn't realized I was one."

"Well Holy Mother Mary," Madison breathed.

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Warnings: Recounting of a suicide attempt, mentions heavy drinking, a confession, mobs.

#alexander hamilton #hamilton #jefferson x hamilton #hamilton x jefferson #thomas jefferson x alexander hamilton #thomas jefferson #alexander hamilton x thomas jefferson #hamilton x thomas jefferson #thomas jefferson x hamilton #jamilton fanfic #jamilton fanfiction #jamilton #basking in firelight

[robinhoodrevisited]

Coaches & Carriages (pt.3)

Nottingham Castle. Courtyard. (Two soldiers escort Marian by her arms to the coach. Isabella, watching from an alcove, makes eye contact with Marian who simply shakes her head. Isabella turns and heads towards the main doors to head them off. The Sheriff follows, putting on his gloves. Allan stops Gisborne at the top of the steps.) Allan: “Listen, Guy, Guy. (Gisborne stops.) Are we really killing the King?” Gisborne: “Part of the inner sanctum now, Allan. You should be honoured.” (Gisborne goes down the steps. Allan follows.) Allan: “No, no. I am. I am. It’s just…” (sighs) Gisborne: “This is the ultimate mission and carries with it the ultimate prize. (Turns around, reaching the coach.) Absolute power.” Allan: “Well, yeah, for you and the Sheriff.” Gisborne: “And you. Allan, your loyalty will be rewarded in land and title, I’ll see to that.” Allan: “Really?” Gisborne: “Really.” Allan: “What, you mean… you mean like a lordship or something?” (Gisborne raises his eyebrows and turns to the coach. Allan ponders the possibility. Gisborne nods his head towards the coach and Allan gets in. Isabella races towards the doors.) Isabella: “Guy! What’s going on?, Where are you taking-” Prince John: (Appearing casually from behind Isabella:) “Carry on Gisborne, make haste now.” (Gisborne nods then smirks at his sister and enters the coach. Soldiers close its iron doors. The Prince and Isabella watch as the coach rattles through the gate. The portcullis is lowered behind it and the sentries resume their post in front with crossed halberds.)

Prince John: “Now my dear, what shall we do with you? (Isabella looks at him anxiously:) Did you know that Lady Marian was the Nightwatchman?” Isabella: (Composing herself, refusing to be intimidated by the Prince:) “Yes, Sire. I know the secrets of many people. (Defiantly:) Gathering information is what I do, it allows me to see everyone for who they truly are. To know their strengths and their weaknesses. It’s how I’ve survived for so long.” Prince John: (Smiling malevolently:) “Oh you adorable girl, don’t misunderstand me. We’re kindred spirits, you and I. I just want to show you something, come with me to Locksley.” (The Prince offers his arm and after a moment’s hesitation, Isabella takes it unsure of what he has planned.) Nettlestone. Barn. Interior. (Robin sits down where Will was sitting earlier working on arrows and puts his face in his hands. Djaq throws her head back as the drums start again. Robin stands and goes to the door.) Much: “Now what?” (Leans on the ladder. Bagpipes begin to play.) Exterior. (A drummer and piper cross in front of Ellingham, who is swishing his fingers back and forth to the rhythm. When he thinks Robin is watching, he moves a finger to motion across his throat.) Interior. Much: “This is driving me mad! Why don’t they just come in here and kill us?” Robin: “’Cause there’s no incentive, Much. (Turns around and walks towards Much. Little John is pacing.) Every hour that goes by we become more fearful… more tired… more likely to take foolish action.” Will: “The foolish action was bringing us here in the first place.” Much: “I’ve said I’m sorry!” Little John: “Well, that’s not good enough.” Much: “Oh, you’ve never made a mistake. I’m not saying anything.” Little John: “What?” Much: “I’m not saying anything. (Little John walks over to Much and raises his eyebrows. Much stands up, pointing at him.) You brought the Sheriff to our camp! You showed him where we live!” (Glances at Robin.) Little John: “I was trying to feed the poor! That’s what we used to do! What’s this all about? Feeding your fat face!” Much: “Fat face? Look who’s talking!” Robin: (Walking past them:) “Shut up! The pair of you! (Little John walks away.) This is exactly what they want us to do. (Turns around.) Fighting amongst ourselves and save them the trouble. Don’t give them the satisfaction! (Much is ashamed. Sighs.) In fact… I think we need to relax.” Will: “Relax?” Robin: “It’s my birthday. Let’s celebrate. (Pats Much’s hands at his sides.) Let’s eat. Djaq, what do we need for this..Kalila and Dimna thing?” Djaq: “Nothing, we just need to sit in a circle and…be honest with each other.” Robin: “Alright then, good.” (Little John follows Robin to the table.) Much: (Whispers to Little John as he passes:) “I haven’t got a fat face.” Little John: (Whispers:) “Fat face!” Much: (Whispers:) “Badger beard!”

The road to Portsmouth. (The coach travels down the road. Allan and Marian ride with their backs to the front facing the Sheriff and Gisborne.) Marian: “Are you seriously going to the Holy Land?” Sheriff: “Yes, yes. I’ve never been before, have you? They say the weather’s wonderful. (Looks out the window.) Guy’s been before. (Marian looks sharply at Gisborne.) Haven’t you, Gizzy?” Marian: “You’ve been before? (Gisborne scowls at Marian. Scoffs.) Then it’s true. You tried to kill the King.” (Stares at Gisborne, mouth slightly open.) Gisborne: (Stares back a moment.) “What? Feel betrayed?” Marian: “Are you going to try and kill the King again?” Sheriff: “Yeeeeees. Mm. And you could say that it’s Robin Hood’s fault. You see, Robin did warn the King to be on his guard when he lands. So, first plan, mercenaries in the port… (scratches his neck)… dead in the water. The new plan, instead of waiting for him, we, er… we pay him a little visit.” (Grins evilly.) Marian: "Mohammed not coming to the mountain.” Sheriff: “Mm, indeed. (to Gisborne:) Shall I use that? (Elbows Gisborne.) Hm?” (Marian rolls her eyes.)

Locksley. (The village is decorated with garlands and flowers. Two men bring a pig on a spit, ready to be roasted, past rows of long tables. The villagers stand and applaud as they pass by and set it over a fire between the manor and the church. Prince John’s carriage arrives from behind Locksley Manor. Isabella sits to the right of Prince John as they talk.) Prince John: “With Vaisey and your brother both gone for awhile, Nottingham will be needing a new Sheriff.” Isabella: “Yes, Sire.” Prince John: “And so, having discussed the matter with Vaisey, we both agreed that there could be no one better suited for the position than you my dear.” Isabella: (Surprised:) “Me? I..I... well I’m flattered my Lord.” Prince John: “Yes I thought you might be. Of course there will be one final assessment to be made, to make sure you’re ready for the job.” Isabella: “Anything, Sire. Put me to the task.” (The Prince smiles broadly and then turns his attention towards the villagers. After several moments of silence, Isabella also looks to the gathering of people.) Isabella: “Looks like a wedding.” Prince John: “I love weddings. (Smiles and stands.) I shall speak with them. You’ll join me? (Prince John gets out of the carriage. Isabella walks with the Prince towards the people.) I took what you said about getting the people to love me to heart, it truly inspired me. (A boy comes up with a flower for Prince John. A few men follow him.) Hello, young man. (Takes the flower.) Oh, thank you.” (Isabella walks forward.) Village Man: “Would His Highness give us his blessing?” (Stretches his arm out to welcome him forward.) Isabella: “They would be honoured if you would bless the bride and groom.” Prince John: “Of course. (Smiles and exaggeratedly swaggers forward.) Hah! Are you the bride and groom?” Bride/Groom: “Yes, sir, Your Highness.” Prince John: (Holds his hand over the couple.) “I wish you prosperity and happiness.” Bride/Groom: (Bow.) “Thank you, sir.” Prince John: “And I’m so glad that I could bring you sun today. (The villagers laugh. Prince John chuckles, turns and walks back to his carriage. The church bell rings and the villagers make their way to the church. Prince John steps into the carriage and Isabella mounts her horse. The Prince waves and smiles at the villagers, who wave back.) Wait until they’re all inside the church and then burn it to the ground. (Smells his flower. Isabella is shocked. The last villager waves at the Prince, and he waves back. Isabella is panicked for them.) Burn it.” (Two soldiers on horseback with cold torches gallop forward. The church doors close. They hold the torches to the flames under the pig to light them. One gallops by and throws the torch onto the roof. It lights the shingles, then drops to the ground and the wall is quickly engulfed in flames. Prince John smiles. A third soldier runs forward and puts a stick through the handles, barring it closed. The second torchbearer lights the walls on the other side. Isabella can’t help but watch. The flames rise and the people inside scream. The doors shake but don’t open.)    

(A soldier lights a wooden cross outside the church as Prince John laughs. Inside, people are crying and screaming.)   Prince John: “You’re being punished! For intolerable disloyalty to me! For harbouring and assisting Robin Hood, his outlaws and my traitorous niece for all I know! And may God forgive you!” Village Man 1: “To the river, quick!” Village Man 2: “More buckets!” Village Woman: “We need more water here!” Village Man 1: “Bring more water!” (The men race with buckets from the pond.) Prince John: (Whining:) “No, no, no, no, no! They’re trying to put the fire out. That’s not what I want! (The villagers dump water on the flames but the church is completely engulfed.) Stop them, all of you! Go on!” (The soldiers all rush towards the villagers, drawing their swords and holding the frantic villagers at bay. A soldier sets fire to the back wall. Prince John sits, watching.) Isabella: “Do you want them to love you?” Prince John: “Of course. And I think they do love me. But I will have respect as well as love.” Isabella: “Any landowner can subjugate his serf; only a king can liberate them. A benevolent king is loved.” Prince John: “But I am benevolent. (Looks at Isabella, amazed, and double takes.) Come with me. (The Prince rises from his carriage once again and walks over to the gathered villagers. The screams of the wedding party still trapped inside the burning church ring out vehemently.) If you won’t love me, then by God you’ll fear me!” Isabella: “Sire, please this is madness.” Prince John: (Affronted by the word, the Prince rounds on Isabella:) “Madness? The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. These (with derision:) people are what’s wrong with this country. They lay around all day and thumb their noses at my authority and are rewarded by the likes of Robin Hood. Well I say no more. (Stepping closer to Isabella:) This is what it means to show strength. To have the courage of your convictions. Zero tolerance for all those who would dare challenge their monarch.” Isabella: “Sire, people are dying!” Prince John: “The disloyal are dying, nothing more! This is your test Isabella, turn your back on those unworthy of your compassion. As my Sheriff I am offering you power and position the likes of which few have ever known. (He walks past her back to his carriage and climbs inside. Raising a finger.) I will never offer you this opportunity again.” (The Prince leans back against the plush seat of the carriage awaiting Isabella’s decision. Isabella looks back at the inferno desperate to save the villagers. She closes her eyes, taking a deep breath and does what she must.) Isabella: “Sire, while those people may not love you, please know that I do. If you spare their lives I will show you just how much love I have to give you.” Prince John: (Raises an eyebrow:) “Is that so? (Isabella nods. He sighs:) Oh, very well. (Nods to a soldier to call off his men, allowing the other villagers to resume rescuing those trapped inside the church. Chuckling at Isabella:) Ah, I love the refusal before the surrender.” (He smiles and briey raises his eyebrows before taking Isabella’s hand and pulling her into the carriage beside him. Isabella’s expression is one of grim resignation.)

Nettlestone Mill. (The air is thick with dust and flour as the mill is in full swing. A tall man climbs the ladder with one hand, carrying four sacks of grain over one shoulder. Placing the sacks where they are needed, the man stops briefly to remove his shirt and use it to wipe the sweat from his brow. As he turns we see that it is Lincoln. An older bearded man walks up to him.) Albert: "Good work, lad. Very good." Lincoln: (Humbly:) "Thanks, boss." Albert: "Yes... (Absent-mindedly:) Very good. (Glances over his shoulder at his other workers.) Listen, Lincoln, could I have a word?" Lincoln: "Yes Sir." (The older man motions for Lincoln to lean against the banister with him.) Albert: "Now, there's no easy way for me to say this, son, but I'm going to have to let you go." Lincoln: (Taken aback:) "Have I done something wrong? Tell me and I'll put it right." Albert: "No, no, it's nothing you've done. In fact you're the hardest worker I've got." Lincoln: "Then can I ask why?" Albert: (Looks over his shoulder again then back to Lincoln:) "Well it's the other workers you see. They just aren't comfortable with you being here." Lincoln: "With all due respect, Sir, I don't come here for the camaraderie." Albert: "I know that, I do." Lincoln: "I'm here hours before anyone else and I sweep up after them. You just said I'm your hardest worker." Albert: "I know that, I know. I... I just can't keep you on, I'm sorry. (Glancing back:) I just can't afford the hassle." Lincoln: "Sir, I need this job. I've earned the right to work here." Albert: "Yes you have, and I admit this isn't right at all-" Lincoln: "Then let me stay!" Albert: (sighs:) "I can't. I just can't. You'll be paid what you're owed I promise you that." (Lincoln looks at his boss a moment before picking up his shirt and starting back down the ladder. As he reaches the floor a group of workers begin heckling and jeering him as he leaves the mill.) Worker: "So long, savage!" Worker 2: "Good riddance!" Somewhere In The Woods. (Roan leads Clarke through the trees as he checks his map. Pocketing it, Roan pulls Clarke towards the entrance to a tunnel.) Roan: (Looking behind him checking they're not being followed:) "Scream again and we're both dead." (Roan shoves Clarke ahead of him inside the tunnel.)

The Portsmouth Road Inn. Exterior. Near sunset. (The coach arrives at the inn. A servant rushes to open the coach doors. The Sheriff gets out first as the innkeeper steps out to greet them.) Innkeeper: “How many beds are you after?” (Gisborne gets out and Allan behind him.) Sheriff: (Holds up three fingers.) “Three.” Innkeeper: (to Allan:) “And you? With the horses?” Sheriff: “No-no-no. (Pointing to Marian getting out:) No. This one.” (Chuckles. The innkeeper is appalled at the idea.) Inn’s barn. Interior. (Gisborne pulls a chain attached to a cuff on Marian’s wrist through a ring on the wall, pulling her back. The Sheriff stands in the doorway.) Marian: (to the Sheriff:) “You’d better not sleep tonight. (The Sheriff looks up, unperturbed, as Gisborne fastens the chain.) Robin Hood will find out what you’re doing and he will come and he will stop you.” Sheriff: “It’s, erm… it’s Robin Hood’s birthday today. Did you know that? He’s having a party… (Marian makes a "so what?” face.)… in Nettlestone village. (Chuckles. Allan enters quietly behind the Sheriff, listening intently.) And somebody’s invited one hundred of my fiercest mercenaries. (Gisborne smirks and leaves for the inn.) And they’ve, erm… (Marian looks down, picturing Robin’s predicament.) … they’ve got him surrounded. So… so Robin Hood is no more. (Marian looks at the Sheriff defiantly.) Hm? Well, sleep tight. Oh, and don’t let the horseflies bite.“ (Winks and leaves. Allan looks at Marian before turning to follow.) Marian: (Whispers:) "Allan! Allan! (Allan looks to see if the Sheriff heard, then turns and goes to Marian.) You can’t go through with this.” Allan: “I can. You heard him, Marian. Robin’s finished.” Marian: “Not if we get away!” Allan: “Shh.” Marian: “We’ll go back to Nottingham. We have to help him.” Gisborne: (From the inn:) “Allan?!” Allan: “Coming!” (Allan gives Marian a helpless look and goes to the door, where he glances back. Marian looks at him beseechingly. Allan goes inside.)

#bbc robin hood #robin hood #lucy griffiths #jonas armstrong #keith allen #lara pulver #toby stephens #joe armstrong #richard armitage #anjali jay #harry lloyd #sam troughton #gordon kennedy #eliza taylor #Ricky whittle