#threatening to kill herself over a man? She's so real for that

[baby-girl-aaron-dessner]

hoax // this is me trying // is it over now?

#can someone please check on blondie? #i fear she needs a welfare check #threatening to kill herself over a man? She's so real for that #taylor swift #1989 #1989 taylor's version #hoax #1989 tv #taylorswift #ts #original artist: akira kusaka #my edit #this is me trying #taylor swift lyrics #is it over now? #tswiftlyrics #lyric edit #tswiftedit #lyrics #mine #lyric parallels #taylor swift lyric parallels #1989 lyric parallels #parallels #ts lyrics #painting #artwork #art #the eras tour #japanese

[death-by-sc0tland]

even though hannibal is a terrifying person, i don’t think he ever tries to act intimidating. he’s always very well put together, he never yells, never tries to make himself scarier in any way cause i guess he knows he can be scary without all that. however, there was one scene that i genuinely felt terrified of him, and it was at the end of antipasto (s3 ep1) when he was killing anthony (will graham knockoff) in front of bedelia

hannibal is very reckless the entire episode. he is posing as dr. fell, but that cover is threatened when anthony enters the scene, cause he knew the real dr. fell. if this were hannibal from earlier seasons, he would dispose of him as soon as possible, cause he was always careful about his cover. however, hannibal just seems to not give a shit in this case.

bedelia sees this happening and you can see she is really distressed about it. she was probably expecting hannibal to kill him when he invited him over for dinner, but he let him go. this put both hannibal and bedelia at risk, but hannibal didn’t really seem to care. bedelia probably fully realizes what kind of shit she has gotten herself into - this is not the same hannibal it used to be. so bedelia decides to run away but unfortunately for her, she’s too slow and hannibal comes back before she can leave. this time he brought anthony over to finally kill him cause now he realized he’s only posing as dr. fell. honestly though, i’d go even as far as to say he deliberately brought him in to kill in front of bedelia as a punishment, cause he probably figured she’s trying to escape. and then the terrifying shit begins.

this man never yells, but i feel like in this scene, he came the closest to that through the entire show. bedelia is out of her mind and he’s just demanding “are you participating or observing?” after which he goes into straight up gaslighting mode and tells her she’s actually participating. like he’s literally actively killing the guy but he’s saying “what have you gotten yourself into, bedelia?”

and truly. she’s gotten herself into some utter shit and can’t take it. and hannibal is pissed about that. because it was supposed to be will with him. will that saw him and understood him and accepted him and wouldn’t be scared and wouldn’t try to run away. he brought bedelia as a weak replacement of will and he’s angry because she just cannot replace will. so he’s lashing out and acting all bitchy towards her here.

bedelia is later bragging about how she was with hannibal behind the veil. but she didn’t admit that it scared her and she tried to run. will has done all kinds of bad things to hannibal, but he was never scared of him and never wanted to run away from him.

#this turned out longer than i planned #but yeah i’m rewatching s3 and this scene unexpectedly hit me #hannibal #hannibal lecter #bedelia du maurier #will graham #hannigram #hannibal meta #1k

[cal-flakes]

please write more dealer!rafe idc what it is about i love that dynamic it was so cute !!!

you’re so real for this. i am LIVING for dealer!rafe right now. eeeeeeek

╰┈➤ saved by dealer!rafe

warnings: drugs, violence, weapons, death. possible tw; implied sa (no description as it doesn’t actually happen)

summary: doing a favour for dealer!rafe takes a dark turn.

“wait, can you run me through it again? please? just one more time?” sighing, rafe cupped her face. “princess, you really need to remember this for me, okay?” y/n nodded, the innocent look in her eyes almost making rafe feel bad for asking her.

“barry here..” rafe pointed “is gonna take you with him to a deal, all you gotta do is sit and be extra pretty, okay?” he explained, his patronising tone going straight over her head.

y/n thought hard about what he said, nodding her head as he spoke. “okay!” she beamed.

“alriiiight, come on little girl, gotta be there on time..” barry sang from the corner of the room, sighing as he stood from the couch.

“yes sir!” she squealed, not really understanding the danger of what she’s about to do.

rafe squeezed her tight as she wrapped her arms around his neck, planting a few kisses to his cheek.

loosening his grip, he peered over her shoulder to adjust her skirt, disgruntled by the short length.

she pulled away and followed barry to the door, a pep in her step.

“man i swear, if you let anything happen to her i’ll fucking kill you” rafe stated, pointing a threatening finger at his friend.

“chill out man, i’ll keep your little princess safe” barry mocked him, holding his hands up.

y/n situated herself in the passenger side, wincing slightly as her thighs stuck to the leather. the drive to the cut was comfortably quiet while y/n wracked her brain for what rafe wanted her to do.

barry glanced at her through his peripheral, sniggering to himself as she looked lost in thought.

“you forgotten already huh?” he smirked, mocking her. bowing her head, she nodded to the ground, picking up on his tone.

“all you gotta do, is sit there. okay? you sit there and don’t say a word, you’re just here to sweeten the deal. if they say anything to you, just be nice..” barry stated, gesticulating as he spoke.

“okay, just sit there..” y/n muttered to herself as they closed in on the porch.

the house, or shack, wasn’t anything y/n was used to. she wasn’t particularly stuck up, she had just never spent much time on the south side of the island, and that was set in stone once she got with rafe.

barry knocked a couple times, the look on his face was almost nervous, a small frown settled on his lips.

a disheveled looking man opened the door, ushering them in. y/n followed closely behind barry, avoiding the man’s prying eyes. the living room was a mess, she struggled to step over the countless empty bottles littered around.

“so, you got my money bare?” the strange man rasped, standing in the doorway sheepishly.

“yeah man, i got your money, but i wanna see the goods first..” turning his head, the man nodded to someone in the hallway.

narrowed eyes closed in on the pair as eerie footsteps sounded around the room. another man, just as strange looking, appeared in the room, duffel bag in hand.

the bag was placed on the table roughly, the silence in the room becoming awkward immediately. y/n picked at her nails, away in her own little world.

the men swapped bags, barry counted the pile of little packets while the other two counted the money. they whispered amongst eachother, their words muffled by the rustle of baggies

suddenly, barry perked his head up, his eyes meeting the knife that had been pointed at y/n. her breath hitched as she clocked it, failing to back up any further against the couch.

“hey man, what the fuck are you doing?” barry snapped, standing up without hesitation.

“you’re missing two-thousand dollars barry..” he sighed, throwing his head into his hands, mentally cursing himself for not double checking rafe’s bag.

“you wanna go get us our money barry, or this one’s not getting out of here alive..” the man motioned towards y/n with the blade.

“nah man, leave her out of this” he uttered, holding a shaky hand up.

“call your buddy, get us our money” the other guy demanded, reaching forward to pull y/n out of her seat.

she let out an ear piercing scream as she was dragged out of the room. barry groaned as her shrieks were muffled by a closed door, having been taken into the bathroom.

“balls in your court bare, get cameron down here with our money, and neither of you get hurt”

barry dialled furiously, “c’mon man, answer the fucking phone” he murmured into the phone.

“rafe! you gotta get down here, right now man” he whispered, “they’re keeping her hostage man, they know about the missing money”

“fuck!” rafe yelled.

“please! let me out!” a high pitched plea erupted from the bathroom. “shut the fuck up bitch!” their voices could be heard through the phone, igniting a burning feeling in rafe’s chest.

barry leapt from the couch, lunging at the man in the room, taking him down with a thud. heavy fists we’re thrown as the two men scuffled around the room, destroying furniture in their wake.

the screams and shouts went on for a while as barry struggled against the man.

the front door burst open as a shaking rafe stood in the door way, chest heaving. “barry! help me! please!” y/n yelped again.

without hesitation, rafe kicked the door open with a crazed look in his eyes. the man had y/n pinned to the wall, trailing a knife along her neck.

from what he could see, she hadn’t been physically injured, but the thought alone was enough for rafe to snap.

he lunged forward, dragging the man to the floor, knocking the knife out of his hand. y/n wailed as they struggled on the floor.

“gun! y/n grab the fucking gun!” rafe bellowed, startling her. nodding through the tears, she pulled the gun out of his waistband.

he stuck a hand out hastily, reaching for the gun in her shaky hands. quickly cocking it, he didn’t give the man a chance before putting a quick bullet in his head.

y/n’s hand covered her mouth as she wept, in a heap on the floor. breathlessly, rafe hurried to her side, scooping her onto his lap.

“i’m gonna get you out of here princess, c’mon angel..” he breathed, lifting her into his arms.

“you good bare?” he shouted, stopping for a response. a sweaty barry appeared in the door way, unconscious man left behind. “all good here bro, let’s fucking go!”

rafe placed y/n in the car carefully, wiping her tears. “it’s okay princess, i’ve got you now, it’s okay..” he cooed, meeting her glassy eyes as he spoke.

arriving back home, he carried her through the house, placing her on the couch. “stay still for a second angel, im gonna clean you up” he said soothingly, rubbing his forehead as the guilt set in.

“rafe..” she let out a shaky whimper. “yeah?” he stopped in his tracks. “please don’t, sit with me..” she cried.

“whatever you need baby, i’m here now, you’re safe with me” he whispered, pulling her into his side.

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x fem!reader #dom!rafe #rafe cameron #outer banks #outerbanks rafe #obx #rafecameron #rafe obx #soft!rafe cameron #dealer!rafe

[inamindfarfaraway]

The Morality of Mabel and Dipper Pines

Warning: Dipper Levels of Overanalysis Ahead

I’d like to make it clear at the start that I love both of these characters equally and they’re both good people, just in different ways. But I’ve seen a lot of criticism of Mabel’s flaws and less of Dipper’s, so I’d like to contribute to the discussion of their respective characters by exploring a divide between them I haven’t seen talked about much.

Mabel really wants to be a moral person. She places a lot of intrinsic worth in the concepts of ethics, like kindness and fairness and the wellbeing of others. Being a bad person could be considered her worst fear. It’s definitely up there with her other greatest fears of losing her relationship with Dipper and the inevitability of change, and those fears developed later largely in response to Ford and the baggage he brought with him.

Dipper just doesn’t care about that as much. That isn’t to say he’s a bad person! He's compassionate, selfless, brave and unquestionably heroic by the end of the show. They both are. But it sticks out to me how differently they think about ethics. For example, Dipper literally kills Wax Sherlock Holmes, while Mabel is so averse to hurting someone’s feelings that she can’t bear to break out of a false, one-sided relationship with Gideon until Dipper's life is at stake. You see what I’m getting at here? But I have more evidence! Buckle up, this is gonna get long.

Compare how they treat their rivals, Pacifica and Robbie. These are ordinary humans with no real authority over them who, age and class gaps aside, they're basically on even footing with in confrontations, so this is a good metric for how aggressive they are when upset and how much they hold grudges in mundane situations.

In “Irrational Treasure”, Mabel is deeply hurt by Pacifica’s mockery to the point of giving up her silly identity, and sets out to prove her wrong that she can be competent. But at the end, when presented with the opportunity to destroy the Northwest family’s fake prestigious legacy that they use to justify putting others down, she declares, “I’ve got nothing to prove” and lets it go. She’s secure in herself. Her motivation is satisfied. Why bother putting more pain and strife into the world? It’s Dipper, who has been only been hurt by proximity to Mabel, who insists on exposing the truth specifically to spite Pacifica and takes away that “Man, revenge is underrated. That felt awesome!” Revenge is arguably a form of justice, especially in this sense of revealing an unfair lie, but still, he takes great pleasure in bringing an enemy down for the sake of it, not to fix the damage they did.

In “Fight Fighters”, Dipper’s vindictive streak returns. He manipulates the ridiculously powerful Rumble McSkirmish into brutally beating up Robbie on the fraudulent charge of murder, threatening Robbie’s life. He didn’t realize Rumble would try to kill Robbie, but he was fine with him severely injuring him. Rumble is a fighting game character, a superpowered master martial artist. Robbie is a normal fifteen-year-old. This is not a sportsmanlike matchup. By the end Dipper learns his lesson and takes responsibility, but so does Mabel about hurting people to try to have a perfect life and people still complain about that!

In “The Golf War”, Mabel is again the twin with a bone to pick with Pacifica, but Dipper takes her rivalry more seriously than her and is more willing to be mean about it. He encourages her to cheat when she doesn’t want to, justifying it because Pacifica is “cheating at life”. Understandable, but still underhanded. While Mabel bonds and buries the hatchet with her rival by the end, outright declaring their rivalry to be stupid, Dipper holds onto it, refusing to forgive Pacifica at all and disapproving of Mabel's offer to give her a ride home afterward despite the pouring rain and her absent parents. He still wholeheartedly considers her “the worst” (and tells her so to her face) at the beginning of “Northwest Mansion Mystery”, even though he saw her and Mabel help and protect each other in their fight against the Lilliputtians and Pacifica thank Mabel and accept her apology.

In “The Love God”, Mabel’s compassion is on full display. She makes it apparent that she wants everyone she knows to be happy, to the point of making a chart to show her friends’ feelings with stickers, and goes out of her way to help Robbie just because she doesn’t think any human being should be so lonely and sad. Dipper initially has no sympathy for Robbie’s misery and sees the twins and his old friends leaving him to rot as a good thing.

Dipper just invests more emotionally into hating people and is more willing to play dirty. Mabel prefers to see the best in people, forgive, deescalate conflict and turn enemies into friends whenever possible, and has more respect for honour and sportsmanship.

Compare the insecurities they highlight in "Society of the Blind Eye". These could have been their last words spoken with their memories of the summer, so they are fully candid and vulnerable.

Mabel confesses, “I only love some of my stuffed animals and the guilt is killing me!” She reprimands herself for not having sincere affection for all the people in her life… who are inanimate objects, hence this being a joke about how immature and overly sentimental she is. But she’s telling the truth! Not being honest about your feelings toward someone who loves you (as toys are assumed to love their kids) is wrong. It’s something a bad, or at least flawed, person would do. We also know that it’s something Mabel can do with real consequences - she loves Dipper unconditionally, but her frequent teasing of him instead of letting this on damages his self-esteem more than she intends and often realizes - and when she does realize as in “Little Dipper”, she’s ashamed of herself. Her guilt is that she’s failing morally, that she hurts the people around her despite her good intentions.

Dipper admits, “Sometimes I use big words and don’t actually know what they mean. I mean, I’m supposed to be the smart guy! If I’m not the smart guy, then who am I?” He primarily thinks of his worth in terms of competence. Dipper is generally not that confident, at this point in time. He has an intense drive to prove his worth. He is acutely aware of his physical and social shortcomings. But the one thing he knows that he does well is analytical, deductive and strategic thinking, and so to always have value he’s built his entire identity around being particularly intelligent. He’s the planner, the mastermind, the guy with the specialized knowledge and important big words who people have no choice but to respect and listen to, because a lifetime of loneliness besides Mabel has taught him that given a choice, they probably won’t. Except just like Mabel’s all-loving attitude, there’s an element of performance. He doesn’t know everything; he’s inherently irrational to a degree like everyone else. So he tries to seem smarter than he is. His guilt is that he’s failing intellectually and practically, that he isn’t contributing enough to be worth something.

This is where Dipper diverges. He wants to be ethically good less than he wants to be good AT things, and respected for it. But they both beat themselves up when they don’t live up to their self-assigned archetypes of All-Loving Hero and The Smart Guy, when they aren’t good enough by their own unreasonably high standards.

"The Last Mabelcorn" deconstructs Mabel’s fixation on her moral perfection. Celestabellabethabelle, who I will henceforth call C-Beth for short, manipulates it to keep her out of the unicorns’ way. She makes manifest Mabel’s fear that she isn’t good enough no matter what she does. We see Mabel push herself further and further to try to prove herself, much like Dipper in episodes like “Dipper vs Manliness”, and emotionally unravel until she’s miserable, self-loathing and openly listing her vices in a way never seen before. But this isn’t productive! Wallowing in shame doesn’t motivate her to be better! She needs to learn that although she isn’t perfect, the virtues she has are good enough to work with to both get out and kick C-Beth out of her head. She decides to stop worrying about meeting an impossible ideal of goodness and just focus on doing good, by using efficient (if violent, and therefore immoral under certain paradigms) methods to protect her family. Her plot in this episode has its detractors and I understand the criticisms that the message wasn’t handled as well as it could have been. But I think it does okay. Mabel definitely reevaluates her need to feel like a good person here. She switches from prioritizing what’s important to her, the validation of being "pure of heart", to what’s important to others and in the bigger picture, simply getting the unicorn hair to keep Bill out of the Mystery Shack.

Finally, compare the twins’ disastrous errors in judgement in “Scary-Oke” and “Dipper and Mabel vs the Future”, when they both accidentally unleash terrible forces of evil upon the town and set in motion a local apocalypse.

Dipper recites an incantation from Journal 3 that causes the dead to rise as bloodthirsty zombies, desperate to prove to the government agents before they leave that the supernatural is real and warrants their help investigating, driven by both his desire for knowledge (his tool to feel secure in himself) and more immediately his fear of being dismissed as unworthy. He is emotionally vulnerable, but still creates the dangerous situation on his own initiative. Since he doesn’t need a blacklight to read the spell and the beginning of the episode established that he’s already familiar with all Journal 3’s visible entries, he knows what the spell would do. He doesn’t realize how many zombies will appear and how dangerous they’ll be. But he is aware that there are risks. Plus, the Shack is hosting a party full of innocent civilians and Mabel has explicitly asked him not to interfere with weirdness. The one thing she told him not to do that night was raise the dead! And what does he do? Raises the dead.

Mabel is actively deceived and manipulated into giving who she believes to be Blendin Blandin, an expert in time-altering technology, what she believes to be an item of such technology, with the intention of warping time to extend the summer for the town. This is a selfish choice. But on top of how emotionally compromised she is, sobbing in despair after “the worst day of [her] life”, consider her internal logic: the end of summer is going to mean the trials and tribulations of growing up for both her and Dipper, and they won’t even have each other if he gets his way; Wendy is already going through that and has told her how awful high school is; she overheard at least some of the Stans’ conversation at the end of “A Tale of Two Stans”, meaning she might know that Stan will have to give up his home and business once the summer is over; and she and Dipper both have true friends here who they will miss and be missed by, as opposed to their memories of Piedmont where we only see them supporting and comforting each other and never hear of any friends. And it isn’t like she’s the only one having fun! Stan is happier than ever, Ford is back home, Dipper’s come into his own more than she could ever have anticipated. He’ll still get to delve into the mysteries of this town that he loves so much. But she’ll be there too. If you want more Gravity Falls, you can see where she’s coming from. She genuinely thinks that “just a little more summer” would be a positive experience for everyone, with plenty of good reason. Yes, she’s recklessly messing with powerful forces that she doesn’t understand. Yes, she isn’t nearly as suspicious of this sudden miracle solution as she should be. But she has no evidence that this would harm anyone.

Their responses after making their mistake are also noteworthy. They’re both horrified and remorseful. But Dipper expresses no concern for the agents for the rest of the episode when it looks like they’ve been killed due to his actions. He even nonchalantly remarks that he thought they were dead when he sees them again. Mabel, however, reaches to stop Bill and begs him to “wait” before he knocks her unconscious. Then she’s imprisoned in Mabelland, which is designed to make her never want to leave and based on how it only occurs to her after she renounces it that the neon colours and repetitive background music are too much even for her, may additionally have a direct, if subtle, influence on her mind. So she’s a little distracted from her guilt. But by risking her life to fix the repercussions of her actions and save the town, she shows much more responsibility for the townspeople’s lives than Dipper showed for the agents he’d tried so hard to impress. He just happily went about his business for weeks believing he had two people’s deaths on his conscience. Never even looked into whether they survived.

These differences in their personal moral philosophies add another layer to the parallels between the two generations of Pines twins. Typically, Dipper parallels Ford and Mabel parallels Stan. But less so here! Like Mabel, Ford very staunchly believes in abstract moral theory, namely that the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. He holds a grudge for weeks against Stan saving him from being lost in the dimensions through the portal, because it endangered the rest of the world by creating the Rift. It was a good deed with good intentions… but it didn’t only make life better for everyone. To Ford, that means it isn’t good enough. Hmm, which younger twin has a problem with judging anything short of ‘pure good’ to not be worthwhile? Also like Mabel, Ford’s self-righteousness is often hypocritical, considering his pride, selfishness and willingness to disregard the possible negative consequences of his actions, e.g. trusting Bill and building the portal in the first place.

Like Dipper, Stan is willing and ready to use underhanded methods to win against his enemies, to lie, cheat, steal and leverage assets he doesn’t really have the right to. He’s more inclined to be aggressive, spiteful and smug. As for holding grudges, even to an unreasonable extent, he personally despised a nine-year-old child even before he knew that the child was a bad person. He would absolutely summon Rumble McSkirmish to attack a rival for him. He prides himself on his cunning, another form of intelligence, and prioritises being good at what he does best over holding the moral high ground. He is shown to have lifelong insecurities about Ford being better than him in other fields (and thus explicitly valued more by their father); so his pragmatism is his way of trying to always be useful to the people he loves, and indeed a key way he shows them his love.

#gravity falls #mabel pines #dipper pines #pines twins #gravity falls analysis

[busylickingsatansballs]

Climb inside of me.

Nell Jackson x reader

Summary: Nell left you, will you give her a chance to make explain herself.

Notes: it only took me an hour, it's based off of a poem.

Inspired by the song Again - Noah Cyrus and XXXTENTACION

It hurt in a way you’d never felt before when she left, like grieving a missing limb. And then she’d died that pain was multiplied to the point of suffocation.

Then one night at the Talbot you saw her swan in the same way she left and your head started to spin.

She was back. And real, not something you’d made up to ease the grief.

You jump up and head for the front door heart pounding in your ears. Disappearing without so much as a back glance.

It killed her. So she’d asked Roxy to talk to you being too much of a coward to do it herself.

Roxy raced down the next day practically begging you to go see her. No doubt Nell had asked her to but you’d refused to let yourself even be entertained by the idea.

“she wants to see you ya know”  your head was already shaking side to side before she’d finished.

“She made her choice, she can just deal with it Roxy.” You had a very that was that tone as you fixed your hair, hands smoothing over your dress.

So Roxy didn’t waste her breath asking twice.

Fingers twist the material at your side, something you only did when nervous.

She’d frozen a second, hesitated like she wanted to say more but didn’t.

Knowing you were putting on a front deep down you wanted to see her, she relayed the message anyway.

The deflated look in Nell’s eyes when you refused to see her, broke her heart.

Muttering a sorry as she patted Nell in passing.

Nell couldn’t sleep that night. No matter how much she tossed and turned, fingers twisting in the sheets the gnawing, absence never settled.

Your face wouldn’t leave her mind.

You were best friends why couldn’t you forgive her?

Or at least you used to be before she ruined everything. There was no expectation of easiness but time had made her forgetful of your stubborn nature.

She’d get you back even if it killed her.

 You’d grown up together, she wasn’t going to be stupid enough to let you go twice.

You the educated daughter of a wealthy doctor and Nell the uneducated daughter of a tavern owner.

She had no idea what you even saw in her sometimes but my god did she want to be seen by you.

You’d even slept in the same bed growing up, all snuggled up close under fading candle light fingers tight around your waist and Nell tried to pretend that it didn’t mean anything.

The delicate way you brushed your fingers over her features, faces just inches apart leaning close as you whispered to avoid waking anyone.

You consumed her. Lit the spark in her chest, she burned for you.  

That burn bled into your everyday lives, she could barely contain herself when the local men tried their luck. It was met with a polite decline from yourself or Nell threatening to beat the infatuation out of any boy who mustered up the courage to try.

Nell sometimes caught herself wishing she was a boy it would make everything so easy.

She’d make a good husband. Nobody would ever hurt you, make you cry or take advantage of your kindness again.

She’d always known she wasn’t like most girls and you only made it more obvious.

The thoughts started to scare her becoming more intense as you aged. So she’d done the only thing she could and married Jackson leaving as soon as possible. He was a good man, had understood her situation. Understood he was her way out.

Understood she would never be a normal wife.

You’d been heartbroken, friends your whole lives and not even a goodbye.

One day she was there and the next gone like a ghost.

Nell Jackson had broken your heart.

Eyes darting back and forth between your notes ignoring the burn in your eyes,

Thumbs rub them blurry but Nell’s face doesn’t leave your mind.

Your stomach twists with excitement as you finish writing a possible cure for a disease you’d been working on.

She seemed to be a lot of places you were lately.

You grown suspicious, suspecting Roxy of foul play sometimes but lacked the proper evidence to accuse.

You always found an excuse to leave. She didn’t need us, didn’t need you.

You’d avoided Nell for weeks, Roxy thought it was silly you opting to drink at home throwing yourself into your work.

Couldn’t you see that they needed you? Nell needed you?

You’d see the girls in passing but not as before, it was hard and you missed them but you all needed the space you’d convince yourself to ease the guilt.

You leaned back in your office chair stretching tired limbs throwing the book to the growing pile as you enjoy the silence.

It would be dark in a few hours so you wanted to enjoy the last few hours of sunlight in peace.

You’d earned a rest. Earned a break from your inner torment even if just for a moment.

Being the towns doctors daughter, people came to you all hours for help.

 You didn’t mind of course.

You were a sweetheart and the town loved you for it, beautiful, clever and exceptionally wealthy you had it all.

Well except a husband. But who wanted one of those?

Men were loud, rough and selfish. None of which appealed to you, women were soft, warm and smelled good.

Life would be so much easier if you could marry each other.

You often caught yourself wondering what it would be like curling up next to someone soft and warm..

A shake of your head puts a stop to that train of thought.

Those thoughts were for later, when it was dark and you could pretend your hand  was possessed, working of it’s own volition under your night gown. The thoughts that clouded your mind were put there by the devil himself to torment you.

You caved every time.

Especially these last few weeks you’d find Nell’s face creeping in more.

Which only made it harder to look at her.

You’d had proposals from all sorts of men looking to marry into your family, the ones looking for love. The ones who wanted money, the ones who wanted to use your brilliance for their own selfish reasons.

You turned them all down.

 One of the few lucky enough to have parents that didn’t care much about marriage marrying for love themselves.

The knock on your door startles, bringing you back to reality. You aren’t expecting anybody but then again you suppose you never were.

You look though the peephole, squinting till Nell’s features came into focus.

You swing the door open with more force than needed, Nell blinks in surprise.

“what do you want?” you know you sound rude, you try not to care.

 Hurt flashes over her features but it’s so fleeting you could have imagined it.

“well a hello wouldn’t go a miss”  irritation brews in your chest but it’s overshadowed with the ache of missing her.

You wanted to cry, bury your head in her neck and never let go.

“if I wanted to say hello I’d have called.” You quip cheeks hot.

You turn before she can see heading back the way you came with Nell at your heels.

You think you hear her close the door behind you.

You hope she has, it was hardly the safest village.

It doesn’t take long before your back in your office sitting back at your work station.

“figured I’d save you the trouble”  she stops awkwardly in the middle of the room taking it all in.

The overwhelming rows of books, ingredients. Scribbled notes scattering the table, Nell doesn’t think she’s ever seen so many books in her life.

“that why you’re here, to say hello?” your words come out thin and pinched, you find yourself silently cringing at your own voice.

If Nell notices she doesn’t say anything.

“Yeah well, I missed ya”  her fingers tap against a jar as she stares at the contents.

Your eyes watch Nell’s frame, she moves slow eyes scanning the various bottles and jars filled with all sorts.

“your the one who left” you huff.

“didn’t feel I ‘ad a choice” she’s looking at you now eyes gazing into your own.

“a goodbye would have been nice” you mutter.

“m sorry”

 Nell continues to study your shelves and the silence stretches on.

Too long.

“don’t touch that” your across the room in seconds hand gripping her wrist tightly, alarm in your tone.

Nell jars slightly, looking at your grip on her wrist.

“It’s a paralytic.” You offer, her blank stare let’s you know she doesn’t understand so you carry on.

“you’ll be unable to move, paralysing your body and lungs eventually until you suffocate and die.”

“Cheery” Nell lowers her eyes and you realise with great embarrassment you still haven’t let go of her wrist.

Dropping her wrist you put away the deadly concoctions in sight as a precaution.

“Sorry, I just didn’t want you to die.” You offer lamely.

Nell’s heart sores at your words, you still cared. “I wouldn’t worry about that, I’m magic.” her joke confuses you tone awkward.

Nell knows she sounds lame but she doesn’t know what else to offer.

You meet her gaze properly, her eyes are so pretty.

“did I do something wrong?” Nell’s mind goes blank, how could you ever do anything wrong?

“Course not, why would you think that?” you grip your skirt fingers tightening and untightening. Twisting and pulling until you can’t anymore.

Nell’s grip tightens around your hand gently pulling the offending hand from your already creased skirt.

“because you never said goodbye.” and it sounds like the most childish thing in the world to be upset about.

But you are.

She pulls you in, slowly guiding you until your eye level with her chin.

You daren’t let your eyes stray further. Her hand moves to hold your own squeezing gently.

 “I didn’t want to hurt ya, I had to leave. Had to leave before I did something stupid,” and of course it makes no sense.

“Stupid? I don’t understand” you pull gently, Nell doesn’t let go.

Pushing your wrists down until she’s forced to let go you take a step back.

“Stop talking in riddles and just be honest with me.”

Her brain freezes and she finds her mouth opening and closing without a sound coming out.

And so she does the only thing that she can, she kisses you.

Her lips are soft, warm. Unskilled they work against yours urgently.

Heat shoots down your spine coiling tight in your lower belly as she pushes you gently into the bookshelf behind.

You think you hear something fall but you don’t care. She’s so soft, eager and my god does she smell good.

Gasping for air you reluctantly pull back, releasing a shaky breath foreheads pressed together.  

You think you hear here apologising but it doesn’t register.

How on earth could she be sorry for that?

“I shouldn’t have done that” it’s not an apology but close enough.

“why not?” Nell doesn’t have an answer, you didn’t seem upset which was a win. 

She steps back and you panic.

Nell doesn’t miss it, moving closer to soothe you. “hey I ain’t goin nowhere” relaxing, you nod and step closer.

“it’s going to be dark soon, you should stay.”

Nodding wordlessly, Nell finds herself hypnotised as you lead her upstairs.

Finding herself in your bedroom watching you undress for bed, Nell can’t help but feel like the luckiest person in the world perching on the end of your bed.

You blush turning to find her gaze already on you.

“you sleeping like that?” you gesture towards her outfit. Trousers, boots, hat and a gentleman’s coat.

Pulling off her boots and coat, she hangs her hat over your bedpost, you blow out the candle.

Pushing herself up the bed as you crawled to meet her.

Snuggling up you press your head against her chest as you both get comfortable.

Whatever happened, you had each other. You were home.

#quote lesbian poetry #nell jackson #renegade nell #magic #Nell jackson x reader #Nell jackson fanfic #Lesbian imagine #sapphic #Sapphic friendship #derry girls #charles devereux #roxy trotter #george trotter #Renegade nell imagine #Fanfic #billy blind

[bonebabbles]

Slash's Famous Scene

Here we are, lads. Everyone's favorite scene in the totally best arc of WC. The one where Slash pins a pregnant woman to the ground and licks her face, while threatening her fetuses and cutting her cheek open so Clear Sky can have more man pain.

So far I've been using "fridging" as synonymous with the brutal killing of a female character to advance a male character's arc; but I do want to remind everyone that the term "fridging" describes disproportionate violence done to women in the service of their husband/brother/father/son's arcs. It doesn't HAVE to be death; it can also be battery, maiming, depowering, or sexual assault.

So far, 8 women have died to serve male arcs, most of them for Clear Sky specifically. Fluttering Bird, Bright Stream, Storm, Misty, Bumble, Turtle Tail, Rainswept Flower, and Petal. Now Star Flower gets sexually harassed and kidnapped, bringing the arc's fridge total to 9.

Anyway content warning, obviously. It's still Warrior Cats and doesn't get too graphic, but this bag contains a dead dove.

First, Clear Sky gets another toesucking from the ghost of his wife who died after leaving his controlling ass. Specifically, after he threw his disabled brother out of his Clan, and after his lust for seeing random people (including his brother) get mauled at the border resulted in the death of Fox.

She tells him that his behavior never drove anyone away, it was all totally not his fault. I'm waiting for a laugh track and it never comes. The apologetics in this arc are unrivaled.

Then, Clear Sky wakes up and his pregnant wife is not next to him. So he goes looking for her and sees her being flanked by Slash and his memorable minions, Grunt 1 and Grunt 2. Star Flower is so possessed by fear that she doesn't move.

They REALLY need to sell that Slash is TRUE evil, PURE evil, because of the wet fart that is Clear Sky's redemption arc. They're saying that Clear Sky ISN'T bad, because he is not this. A dirty, sadistic monster who coos evilly about how he's going to hurt the kittens in his wife's belly and cruelly twitches his whiskers.

(as a petty side detail, please also note that this passage cannot even keep Slash's fur color straight. Behold, a cat so evil that he cannot even remain a brown tabby! He turns gray when he commits nefarious deeds! Ashfurification included!)

Star Flower is the one being pinned to the ground and having her face cut open as Slash screams about how she promised her father she'd be his mate, but this scene is about Clear Sky's distress. Star Flower is an object to this narrative, which these two men are in conflict over.

The pinning, the violence, the sexual implications, are being done to make Slash as monstrous as possible to contrast to Clear Sky. Slash doesn't kill anyone, so the narrative needs to make you SO UPSET your emotions are thrown into overdrive, so you'll accept how truly terrible he is.

The simple truth that this rancid book is trying to make you ignore, is that Clear Sky is exponentially more deadly. He has caused harm so unspeakable that they have to describe his bloody murders in passive voice. They "died" now, instead of "were killed," and the violent system he created is presented as "making up" for the trauma he's caused to the survivors.

"Pushing his muzzle close to her injured cheek, he licked the blood from her fur with a long, lingering lap."

Think critically about the characters they are presenting and the actions they make them do. None of these are real people. They are writing choices. They have portrayed Slash as a perverted, domineering, child-abusing savage, so Clear Sky the Settler can look good in comparison.

then Star Flower gets dragged off, kicking and struggling, feeble and completely unable to defend herself as clear sky thinks about how she might die along with his fetuses.

Obviously Clear Sky is so very stressed out by all this and needs to blow off some steam, so he smacks the nearest woman and starts screeching about how Star Flower is more loyal than the son he abuses

The first thing he does after the Slash event was physically assault the nearest woman. I can't... I don't have the words. Are you seeing this. Do you see what I am fucking dealing with. literally the first woman he sees.

"DOES THAT FEEL LIKE AN ACT??" He bellowed like a fucking wifebeater at the girl whose face is bleeding because he cut her in a fit of rage. That's fine as long as you don't lustfully lick it afterwards I guess!!!

#dotc hate #bones reads dotc #Slash dotc #this arc is going to END me #ill also get into how slash's description of events is a lie #but the fact he is a liar and pulling a bluff is a plot point later #Starf is around the same age as Thunder based on her order of events and Clear describes her as 'young' #Starf also does not lie. They talk about 'manipulation' and 'betrayal' but no. she's very honest #the only misleading she ever does is through vagueness like when thunder asks her 'do you know one eye' #and she says 'yes' but doesn't elaborate #a woman will have absolutely no choice in her actions and do nothing wrong by telling her dad about an assassination attempt #and the writers will put that on the same level as a man who beats kids and kills women and commits war crimes

[cowboydisaster]

The Fire In Your Eyes

part VIII: horseshoe overlook iv

pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem!reader

word count: 15.2k

summary: it's time for the train job, the biggest job you've ever done. You've got a bad feeling about it, and by the end you wish you would have listened to your gut.

a/n: Surprise! Early post! Thank you for your patience with this chapter! Yall know I always upload on Wednesday, but i was so sick that i couldn't write, and i had to go to the ER on tuesday night to get fluids. Anyway, this has been the scariest chapter to write ever. Don't kill me please and please don't give up on this series... love yall, don't yell at me and please trust me. This chapter was too long and got split into two parts: part two will be posted in three days time.

beta read by @margowritesthings

warnings: violence, death, minors dni, 18+

series extras

SERIES MASTERPOST

Arthur leaves long before you even wake up, heading back down to Blackwater to find Sean. It gives you a sick feeling in your stomach, but you trust he’ll be okay. Arthur is smart, and even though he's good at getting himself in sticky situations, he's equally good at getting out of them. It doesn't do much to help your worry, but it’s all you can cling to for right now.

You swirl your half empty cup of coffee in your hand, leaning down for the percolator to reheat it. The fire is warm, alongside the sun, and you find yourself grateful for the off the shoulder shirt you’d picked up a few days ago. It's the perfect temperature you think, tasting the bitter coffee. You're startled out of your thoughts by a weary presence.

“Penny for your thoughts, ma’am?” Kieran asks, walking passed to sit down opposite of you on a crate. He looks nervous, like he was afraid to come sit, and you feel sorry for it. Kieran seems like a nice man, just someone who was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

“Just thinkin’ about all that's goin’ on… I see they let you live, huh?” You chuckle, and Kieran nods, nervously. 

“Well Mr. Morgan convinced Dutch to let me stay, I thought maybe that was your doin.” Kieran says, and your eyebrow pings up in shock. 

“Did he now?” You hum, surprised by Arthur’s choice, “No, That was all Mr. Morgan. Well good for you, I just hope he won’t regret it.”

“Oh he won’t! I'm real good with horses, miss, worked in a stable most my life. I’m sure I can be of help with anything you folks need, especially in that regard. I can do anything, even latrines. I’ll earn my keep, miss, I will.” Kieran stutters and you nod, eyeing him over. 

“But speakin’ of horses… that palomino over there, the blue eyed one, is she yours?” Kieran asks, nodding towards Athena, who has her neck to the ground, tearing through the bale of hay there. You smile, watching as she pins her ears at Old Boy, keeping the hay for herself. 

“Yeah, she’s mine. Just got her since we’ve been here.” You smile, and Kieran takes note of her configuration. 

“She looks like a thoroughbred. Nice and tall, lean and muscular.” Kieran points out, and you hum at his accuracy. 

“She is.” You respond, eyeing whether or not Kieran has a motive or if he's just a lover of all things equine. You sip at your bitter coffee, letting him speak for himself.

“Y’know palomino thoroughbreds are of the rare sort, n’ with those blues? Well you got a real fine animal, miss.” Kieran says, doting over your mare. You smile, making a note to mention Kieran’s knowledge of horses to Arthur. Maybe that could be his designated contribution. At least he’d be doing something he enjoys instead of getting harassed and threatened by the gang all day. 

“Thank you.” You hum, drinking the rest of your coffee. 

"Well I reckon I better take my coffee and head back to shuckin' corn till they give me a better job. But it was real nice talkin' to you, miss. You're the first person who's treated me like a person rather than an animal since I've been here." Kieran smiles, filling up his cup with the percolator before nodding to you and heading back to Pearson's wagon. You frown, feeling sorry for him. You were lucky enough to have been found by Arthur, but it could have gone any other way. O'Driscolls could have found you first, and you could be in Kieran's shoes right now. 

Sighing, and taking your cup of coffee, you stand up and walk past Strauss's tent, ignoring his greeting. There's a little log sitting near the edge of the cliff behind his tent, and it's a perfect little spot to sit and think. Not wanting to be bothered, your eyes stay pinned on the log as you make your way towards it. The view is breathtaking, you can see everything from the Dakota River to the tops of the Grizzlies from the spot as you sit down, drinking in the warm air. It's a secluded little area, far enough from camp to get away from the arguments and bickering, but close enough for safety. You're enjoying your solitude, watching two bucks fight down below the cliff, they're antlers are stuck together as they rip and rug. It's an interesting sight, until it's interrupted by a throat clearing behind you. 

"John." You sigh, annoyed not with his presence but the fact that you know why he's here. 

"Nice to see you too." John chuckles, bringing his leg over the log to sit next to you with a cigarette between his lips.

“Gotta get some supplies for this train job, I could use an extra hand that ain't a dumbass.” John asks, leaning backwards to stretch. You sigh, not wanting to even think about the damn train job. But nonetheless, you nod. 

“Sure. What exactly is your plan for goin’ about it?” You ask, scooching towards John as he pinches the cigarette between his fingers, shaking it before tossing it on the ground. He pulls a map from his pocket, unfolds the heavily used paper, and holds it out for you to see. 

“Trains' comin’ from Riggs Station. It’s dropping off its security detail in The Heartlands, and after dark it’s heading down to Rhodes to pick up the next regiment.” He explains, tracing his finger over the paper from Riggs Station to Rhodes. 

“So it’ll be completely unguarded for this whole stretch of tracks?” You ask. It sounds too good to be true, but you know that John and Arthur have done this enough by now. They know how to get proper information. But the idea of the train job still makes your stomach flip with anxiety as you’ve never robbed anything as big as a train. 

“Well, not exactly. The security that they’re payin the big bucks for won’t be there, but we expect a few armed passengers, and some local boys guardin’ the train for extra cash. It won't be completely unguarded, but it sure as hell won’t be a militia like you’d expect.” 

You nod, taking the map from his hands gently, and looking it over. 

“Where do we board, n’ how are we boardin’ it?” You ask, and John places his index finger over a little area labeled Dewberry Creek, just past the Lemoyne/New Hanover stateline. 

“Here. We’ll have to stop the train, or it’ll take us right into town. I figure we get an oil wagon, ease it over the tracks. When that train comes through and sees that oil? It’ll stop just fine. We board her, encourage those rich bastards to give up their grammy’s pearls and we ride out.” John explains, tucking the map back into his pocket.

“Alright… seems like a solid plan.” You admit, ignoring your gut, “Where do we get a full oil wagon?” You ask, dusting some dirt off of your new jeans. 

“That’s where you come in. Only place I reckon we find one is the oil fields, out in The Heartlands, you know of it?”

You shake your head no, “Uh-uh.”

“Well it's well guarded for the most part, but most of those guys sleep or drink on the job. And they don’t get paid enough to give a damn. I’m heading over now to scout the place out, get an idea of the schedule. Thought maybe you could tag along, put that head to use instead of washin’ clothes for old Susan.”

You raise an eyebrow, unsure if he's just complimented you or insulted you, but still, you nod. 

“Alright. Let me pack some stuff, I’ll meet you by the horses.” 

John nods as you walk back towards your tent. With a sigh, you pull the canvas open. Your saddle bag is sitting on your bed, and you stuff it with some provisions and a change of clothes, then decide that you’ll need to grab some more ammo from Arthur's tent just in case. Once everything is all packed and settled, you swing your saddlebag over your shoulder and head back out. You stop around the back of Arthur’s wagon, picking up a few cases of express bullets and some throwing knives from the makeshift armory. 

“What does she want from him now? I never liked hearin' about her…” Marybeth hisses, and you look up, startled, realizing she is standing in Arthur’s tent. You’re peeking around the back of the wagon, eavesdropping as Marybeth places a crisp white envelope on Arthur’s bedside table.

“I always thought Mary was nice…” Tilly responds, picking up the envelope and looking it over before returning it. 

“Nice like a patch of poison ivy.” Marybeth bites, and Tilly rolls her eyes. 

“You didn’t even know her. Not when she was really around, anyway. She was always kind, just… didn’t agree with our life. Can you blame her?” Tilly sighs, and they walk out of the tent together. 

Your eyebrows pull together, and you walk around the outside of his tent until you're at the entrance. You hum, looking at the envelope before striding through his tent towards it. It’s upside down on his table, and you know you shouldn’t be snooping through his mail, but you pick it up and flip it over regardless. Written in sloppy cursive is ‘Arthur’ and you look after the lettering for a while. The paper is fancy, the kind that is expensive and only available in the city. Your finger trails over the lettering, and it itches to tear the red seal off and read the contents, but you restrain yourself. You know if the roles were reversed Arthur would respect your privacy. Sighing, you place the envelope back and meet John by the horses, wondering who Mary might be the whole way over. John is just climbing into the saddle when you approach. 

“Ready to go?” He asks, settling himself down over Old Boy and checking the straps on his saddlebag.

“Sure.” You mumble, mounting up onto Athena and giving her a nice pat. Once you’re settled, the two of you start cantering out of the trails, nodding to Karen who is keeping watch. Instead of riding towards Valentine, John leads you out towards the Heartlands, into unfamiliar territory for you. You can’t help but think about those men, Milton and Ross, and wonder why in the hell you’re all robbing a train right now.

“Why does Dutch keep pushin’ this job?” You holler up, squeezing Athena to run faster after John.  

“I got no idea.” He yells back to you. Once you run over the tracks the terrain changes from grass to dry, sandy dirt, and you try to keep Athena on the trail to avoid getting any rocks lodged in her shoes. 

“It don’t make sense, we should be leavin. Now I don't want to, not at all, but there was Pinkertons right next to our camp, just a stone's throw away.” You shake your head, unbelieving of Dutch’s terrible call. 

“Do you think they know where we are?” John asks, turning in his saddle a bit as he gallops on. 

“No. No if they knew where we are they would have just came to camp… But still, approachin’ us like that when we had Jack with us? Tellin’ us, in front of him, what happened to Mac? They can all go to hell.” You hiss, and John goes quiet for a minute. All you can hear is hooves pounding as you wait for his response. 

“You and Arthur had Jack?” John asks, like he's angry, but mostly surprised. Your eyebrows draw together, unsure of why it’s a big deal.

“Well, yeah. Abigail asked us to watch him for a bit, just to cheer him up.” You respond as he leads you up the bank towards Citadel Rock. John huffs loudly, rolling his eyes and shaking his head as if he disapproves.

“You got a problem with that?” You bite, noticing the tension in his shoulders, and his quiet, aggressive demeanor.

“She acts like I ain’t there… for her or the boy.” John hisses, shaking his head. It grows quiet again as you think back to Abigail’s pleading tears, begging you to take Jack because John wouldn't.

“Are you?” You ask, with some judgment. John really thinks about your question, slowing Old Boy to a trot as he comes up near the slope of Citadel Rock. He left them, but he came back, that counts for something in his eyes. Surely, it counts in Abigail’s eyes too…. 

“Well yeah!” John says defensively, “Im tryin’... tryin’ to get money for them at least, so she can raise the boy up proper.” John says, stopping his stallion at the edge of the cliff, overlooking The Heartlands. You pull Athena up alongside him, stopping so you can look him in the eyes. 

“Money don’t matter if you ain’t there for ‘em.” You whisper, no harshness or judgment in your eyes, although he takes it with such, pulling back and scrunching up his face in anger. 

“The hells that supposed to mean?” He bites, dropping his reins and throwing an arm in the air towards you. You keep your calm demeanor, only wanting to help the little family. You have no quarrels against John or his parenting, but you’re the one in camp watching Abigail comfort a crying Jack when his daddy isn't there to tuck him in night after night.

“It’s just…” You think over your words, tongue darting out over your lips, “Your boys' real upset, he misses ya John. Abigail won't admit it but she misses you too.” Your wrist rests on the horn of your saddle, toying with the leather reins as you watch John’s face soften. He sighs, eyes downcast as he runs his hand over his face, careful not to catch the healing stitches on his right side.

“You think?” He asks, looking up to you, and you nod your head up and down, sure.

“I don't know what I’m doin’ Star.” John sighs, doubting himself. It’s not that he doesn’t want to be there for Jack and Abigail, he doesn't know how to. He doesn't see himself cut out to be a father or a husband, and he has a hard time believing his family wants him around. 

“None of us do,” You huff a laugh, thinking of your own situation with Arthur, “You just gotta try your best to do right by them.” 

John nods, offering you a small, sad smile as he leans over to tap your knee in thanks. Without another word, but with a mutual understanding, you both dismount your horses. Then it’s time to get down to work. John takes both the horses, and he hitches them down the bank a ways so they can’t be seen from the roads or the fields. As he takes them away, you pull out your binoculars. Crouching, you look through the glass and take in the infamous Heartland Oil Fields. There is one big building, the factory, on the left side of the tracks that run straight through the place. On the right are smaller buildings, you’re presuming bunks, outhouses and storage rooms. The entire place is fenced in, except for where the tracks run through and the main entrance, guarded by two armed men. You search for an oil wagon, and find a few but you’re not sure which are empty or full. Armed guards stand all around the place, and there is a damn moat of oil ponds on the right perimeter. You pull the binoculars down, hearing John return as he walks up beside you. He too is eyeing the factory, face drawn up as he thinks over a plan. 

“How do you reckon we go about this?” You ask, handing him over the binoculars. He takes them, and does the same look around that you’ve just had. 

“We stay here and figure out their routine. They have a checkpoint at the front gate, so if we watch them long enough we’ll know which wagons are full and when. Then we slip in at night, once the workers have gone home. We’ll only have to get past the guards.” John explains and you sigh, nodding. You look up at the sun, holding your fingers up to the horizon. It’s nearly 4PM, you’re gonna be here for a while.

“Why don’t you make us a fire or somethin? And grab my bedroll too. This is uncomfortable as hell.” You ask of him as you plop down on the dirt, taking the first watch. 

— — — — 

“Star?” John mumbles, and you groan, eyelashes fluttering. You curl your knees in tighter until John shakes your shoulder.

“Star, get up. It’s time to go.” John says, and those four words alone pull you from your slumber, it's time to go.

In the past six hours you and John had traded shifts a handful of times, and both picked up the same pattern. A wagon is filled every hour on the hour, and then left for only ten minutes while the guards do their rounds. Once the ten minutes are up, the wagon is taken out the front gate by a heavily armed detail, and sent off. You had suggested earlier that it might be easier to steal the wagon after it leaves the oil fields, but John had said the risk of the oil wagon getting shot would be too high. So you stick with the original plan, leaving you only ten minutes to sneak into the place and sneak out with the wagon. It’ll be hard, but it’s your only option. 

“They just started their rounds, hurry up.” John explains as you scramble to your feet. You notice he has the camp taken down already, and the fire is nothing but smoking ashes as you quickly roll up your bedroll. Quietly whistling for Athena, you wait for her to arrive before strapping down your bedroll and jumping onto her back. The ten minute countdown has already begun as you and John gallop down the hill. 

“Which way do we go in?” You ask, running after John towards the right flank of the fenced oil fields. 

“We're gonna come up on the right side, ditch the horses a ways out, and jump the fence. Wagon should be sitting right there. Then we just drive it right out the front gate.” John hollers back, slowing Old Boy down once you can see the fence. Coyotes yip and howl in The Heartlands, making the night even more eerie as you approach the factory. With the dark and the distance, none of the guards can see your horses as you both dismount and break for the fence. You shoo both horses, signaling them to flee. And then you're running, keeping your breaths controlled and steady as you watch out for any straggling guards. John reaches the fence before you do. It’s not very high and he easily jumps over it. 

“C’mon!” John whispers as you throw yourself over the fence, landing painfully on your ankle with a wince. He grabs your elbow, pulling you along with him. Once you're inside, you take a look around to get your bearings. You see a few swinging lanterns in the distance, all guards on watch, but none of them look in your direction. Most of the lanterns near the bunk houses have been snuffed out for the night, leaving you to the shadows. You turn in the other direction and see exactly what you're looking for.

“Right there!” You whisper, pointing ahead to the wagon. It’s pulled in front of one of the tents, and John helps you run towards it. Two white shire horses are hooked up to the wagon, and you’re glad to see that they’re strong and agile. 

“Go on, get up there. I’ll drive.” John says, hushed as he breaks away from you to get on the left side of the wagon. You’re not sure how much time you have, but surely it’s not much. Your heart pumps loudly in your ears as you climb up the side of the wagon, ignoring the slight pain in your ankle. John clambers up, and just as he reaches the bench seat you hear a low, deep growl. You snap your head around to catch the source and the blood runs from your face at the sight of a massive bloodhound. A guard dog. His jaw snaps as he snarls at you with a warning. 

“John…?” You whisper, so quietly that he barely hears. He turns and sees the dog, and his eyes flicker from it to the guards walking on the other side of the factory. The dog's hackles are raised as it snarls, showing its teeth. You know that if it barks, or alerts the guards in any way, you’ll both be caught. John shushes it and slowly starts to roll the wagon away, quietly cueing the horses onward. The dog snarls again, snapping its jaws as you quietly ride the wagon away. 

“What do we do? What if it alerts someone?” You whisper, heart racing. If the dog alerts a single guard, you’ll have every person in the facility shooting at you. 

“I don’t know, drive like hell, I guess.” John offers as you watch the dog. John has the horses going at a nice trot towards the entrance, and sweat runs down your brow as the dog runs after the wagon. You’re just about to breach the front gate when it happens- when the bloodhound does what bloodhounds do. It bays, and it bays loud. 

"What is it boy? What ya find?" Someone hollers, and a lantern flicks on in one of the tents. John flicks the reins over the horse's backs harshly and they pick up a canter towards the front gate. 

“Shit!" You hiss as the dog continues, head tossed up in the air as guards start to come out and find the disturbance. One man comes out from a tent, still in pajamas with a rifle in hand. Your eyes widen as he stares directly at you. 

“Right there! They’re takin’ a wagon!” The barely clothed man yells, and John curses as he smacks the horses with the reins again, and they take off. More guards and workers seem to come out and see you all escaping, and everyone readies their rifles. John steers the horses out the main gate just as bullets start to whiz past your head. 

“Stop them!” Another guard calls out, “Get the damn law!” 

Bullets ping against the wooden wheels of the wagon, and buzz through the air past your head. You lean your head down to protect yourself as you grab your carbine from around your shoulder, good thing you grabbed those bullets. 

“Shoot somethin’!” John yells, maneuvering the horses along the roads in the direction of Dewberry Creek. 

“Im tryin!” You yell back, loading your carbine before popping up and taking down two guards who were shooting from behind the fence. A few bullets ping against the side of the wagon, and you gasp, realizing how quickly it could go up in flames. You pop up from the bench again, and fire into the chests of three men who were running after the wagon.

“Watch the damn oil, you morons!” One of the guards yells to his men. You shoot down three more men before you have to reload again. John is getting you further from the oil fields, and the flashing of gunfire gets farther away until two riders come out after the wagon. You’re still filling up the magazine when they ride up on you, and John ducks, yelling something. A few more bullets whiz passed before you stand up and shoot both men down from their horses. You pant, ducking as three more riders gallop after you both. John has the horses running at a dizzying pace as you stand, taking down two men. You're extra careful not to shoot or hurt the rider's horses as you come up and shoot the last man. 

“Is that the last of them?” John yells as you pant, wiping sweat from your brow and slumping back into your seat. 

“Yeah, that's all.” You breathe heavily, tossing your carbine strap back over your shoulder. You whistle, and turn around to watch for Athena. John does the same, and luckily after a few minutes, both come running behind the wagon. 

“Where we takin’ this again? I know you said the creek, but specifically?” You ask, taking your hat off and setting it in your lap to untie your braid. You pull the cloth tie out, running your fingers through the waves that are now down your back. 

“We’re droppin’ it near this torn down house. I’ll leave the horses go and we'll come back for it when the train comes through.” John explains, and you nod. 

It’s a bit of a ride, especially with the pace you go at. The horses are exhausted and scared from the shootout, so John doesn’t push them past a trot. It's nice to just relax in the passenger seat, and you focus on the humming of bugs and frogs while your heartbeat settles. It's a cloudy night, the kind where a cold fog settles over the place, but you don't mind. It's still beautiful. The moon pokes through the fog in a hazy glow, offering some light for John to lead you to Dewberry Creek. He winds the wagons down the open hills until you reach a small trail along a big dried up creek bed. 

"Guess the creek ain't fairin' so well." You point out, watching as coyotes yip and run through the dried up creek. 

"Guess not." John offers, pulling the wagons toward a structure. It looks like a little house that burned down. The foundation is intact, along with the fireplace and support beams, but the rest has burned away. 

"We pull them off right here." John says, turning the horses to walk in between the house and a patch of trees. He starts to slow them down, and you hop from the wagon before it stops. Immediately you jog around the backside to check the cargo. 

"Shit, John! Shit!" You hiss, taking in the oil wagon that is riddled with random bullet holes. There's about five or six, and no more oil leaks from them. You knock on the side of the wagon as John jumps down, groaning when the wagon sounds hollow. 

"All the oils' gone." You sigh, rubbing your face as John paces around the backside of the wagon. Athena grows antsy from the upset, and she stomps and rears lightly. 

"Now what the hell do we do?" You ask angrily, calling Athena over to comfort her. You hand her an oatcake to munch on and stroke her neck as John comes up with a plan. Athena's gentle nickers calm you down, and you take a deep breath as she leans into your hand. John is standing back from the wagon, hands on his hips as he thinks it over.

"It'll work just the same. The conductor won't know if it's full or not." John says, biting his cheek and you sigh. 

"We can't just go get another one." John huffs, "That oil factory is on high alert now." 

"You're sure it'll work?" You ask, stepping towards him with raised eyebrows.

"It'll work." He reassures you. You nod, sighing and waking towards the front of the wagon where the two white shire horses are hooked up. John does the same on the other side, and you both slice the leather harness straps, freeing the horses. 

"When's it comin' through?" You ask, patting the shire horse to run off. 

"Tomorrow night." John says, and your stomach aches at the thought. Only twenty four hours until your first train job. 

Athena and Old Boy are grazing next to each other just a short walk away from the wagon, and you and John silently walk towards them, sheathing your knives and watching as the pair of white shire horses run up over the hill, bucking and whinnying.

"You ever rob a train before?" John asks, looking over at your anxious expression. You shake your head, coming up to Athena. 

"No, afraid not. Just drunken idiots usually." You chuckle, and John smiles. 

"Y'know I'm glad it was Arthur's watch you stole, and not mine back in Tumbleweed. I probably never would have noticed, and you'd still be runnin' all over hell in the west." John chuckles, and you smile at the memory, mounting onto Athena. 

"Still can't believe he brought ya back like he did, but I'm glad for it." John says, climbing onto his stallion. Your eyebrows pull together lightly at his remark.

"Why's that?" You ask, cueing Athena into a canter with John behind you.

"Arthur, he ain't never brought someone back to camp before you, and he throws a big fuss when someone new comes in. He gets all pissed and leaves for a few days. He says it's 'easier to lie low with less people.' Musta seen somethin' in you, though." John hollers up to you, and your features soften. You wonder why Arthur chose differently for you, why he brought you back to camp. 

"He's different with you." John says, galloping alongside you, and you have to push Athena further ahead to hide the blush on your cheeks. You want to quip something back, but you come up short because you know he's right. You've heard the same testament from each of the girls, Hosea, and Arthur himself. 

It grows quiet as you gallop through The Heartlands, avoiding the roads and any lingering lawmen. It's late, near midnight when you finally get close to camp. You can hear the cheers and laughter from the road, and you smile back at John.

"Guess they found him." You chuckle, trotting Athena under the fallen tree into camp. When you breach the trees, coming into the little opening, the sight has you laughing. Camp is lighter than it's been in a while. Sean is standing on a crate giving some grand speech with everyone gathered around, and by the sound of it he's already drunk. You hitch Athena, and John nudges your elbow. 

"Reckon I'm gonna go be with my family. Thanks for your help." John pats your back before walking off towards the camp. You smile, taking off the straps of Athena's saddle and placing it over the hitching post before walking towards the crowd.

"Get a load of this bastard." Arthur huffs, walking up beside you with two whiskeys in hand, gesturing to Sean. He hands you a drink, and you smile, glad to be home. 

"Found him strung up in a damn tree surrounded by bounty hunters." 

"A-and I owe my life to old English over 'tere!" Sean points to Arthur, "Yep, 'tats right! Old grumpy Arthur Morgan! Come to save me, ya did! You're my brother, ya arsehole!" Sean laughs heartily, jumping down from the crate and approaching the two of you. 

"Miss!" Sean calls out to you, and Arthur chuckles, sipping his drink. Sean comes to you with a big toothless grin, a contagious one, and wraps you in a hug.

"Ah, I've already got the gossip from Ms. Jones, callin ya Star now, eh?" Sean asks, letting you go before nudging you with his elbow, "It's fittin! Y'know they say you twose are tied together like glue!" Sean winks at you lightly, nudging you and gesturing to Arthur. 

"I know a couple good spots for a shag if you two need a getaway. N' I know an Irishman if you get tired a' this ol'-" Sean starts, pointing to Arthur, but Arthur has had enough.

"Would you please shut up?" Arthur bites, hand pulling away from the bridge of his nose as you giggle. Sean puts his hands up in mock surrender. 

"I was just teasin'! Only pullin' yer leg!" Sean chuckles, tipping his hat to you before backing away and rejoining the crowd. 

"I did not miss that kid." Arthur sighs, leading you towards the campfire where Javier sits, playing a tune. Everyone is in good spirits, especially as Hosea enters with Dutch and two huge, full cases of alcohol, announcing the return party. 

"Yes you did." You tell Arthur, smirking as he sits down on the wolf pelt covered log. You sit down right next to him, closer than what's expected, but you're growing used to the proximity, finding comfort in it even. Sean is talking loudly to the girls as everyone gathers around the crates of hooch. The bottles pass around quickly as Javier picks up a new tune. It's one that everyone knows, and you smile. 

"Cielito Lindo." You remark with a chuckle as Javier picks up the rhythm on his guitar. More people gather around the fire. Dutch, John, the girls, Uncle, Lenny, even Abigail and Jack join in as Javier starts to play. Jack sits on John's lap, nestled right next to Abigail, and you smile at them. 

"¡Ay, ay, ay, ay! ¡Canta y no llores!" Everyone hollers out, not sure of the lyrics or their meaning, but enjoying the energetic song. Even Arthur sings along, and you giggle at his steadily behind, off key tune. 

"¡Porque cantando se alegran, Cielito lindo, los corazones!" Javier sings out, passionately stringing the guitar as a few people clap along and laugh. The smile on your face is brighter than it's been in a while as you watch the weight lift off of the gang's shoulders. Arthur is smiling, and for that you are very grateful. You'd do anything to see him like this more often, carefree and happy. Javier continues the song verse, and everyone claps along until the chorus comes. 

"¡Ay, ay, ay, ay! ¡Canta y no llores!" Everyone calls out again, and you hold your drink up a little as you sing it. Javier continues the song, and you chuckle as Jack pulls Abigail up from her seat to dance with him. He spins around and hops with very little rhythm, just having fun. Arthur chuckles beside you, eyes bright as they lay upon the same scene. 

"You want another drink?" Arthur asks, noticing that your first is nearly gone. You shake your head. 

"No thanks, think I'm cuttin' myself off for the night." You say, handing the bottle over for him to finish. 

"I'm surprised you drank at all after that mess in Valentine." Arthur chuckles as Javier sings out the song's verse. 

"I only had one. Don't plan on bein' that sick ever again, and we got one hell of a job to do tomorrow." You whisper, mind lingering on the train job. You'd like to drink, just to forget about it, but heading into it with a foggy mind is the opposite of what you need. Arthur sighs, digging the heel of his boot into the dirt. 

"We do." He remarks, eyes flickering up to Dutch. Arthur can't understand why Dutch is pushing this job right now with the Pinkertons so close. But he trusts Dutch, and knows he'll lead them out of it. You're not so sure. Dutch is watching you from across camp, a snake-like glint in his eye. You can see the way he wants to use you, to play you like his chess piece and defeat some great power. It's useless, it's ridiculous. An outlaw runs from the law, but Dutch is challenging it, intentionally aggravating it. It's a dangerous game. 

"I got a bad feeling about this job, Arthur." You bring up that gut feeling again, and you know you're right. You don't trust this job, and something is going to go wrong. 

"I know you do… You and John get that wagon today?" Arthur asks as Javier picks up a different song on his guitar. 

"We got the wagon just fine, but it's empty. We were caught red handed and they shot it to hell, all the oil leaked out." You sigh, embarrassed to admit the failure to Arthur, "John says it'll work just fine though, the conductor won't know if it's empty or not." You add as Arthur curses. 

"Enough about that, why don't we just enjoy the party?" You ask, wanting to talk about anything other than the train job and the damn empty wagon. Arthur taps your knee with his knuckles. 

"Sure." He says, offering you a small smile and you release a breath. Javier is playing a new song now, one you don't recognize, but it's a joyful tune, light and happy. 

"Arthur!" Marybeth calls from across the fire, giggling and trodding over towards you both with a big, bright smile. 

"Yes, Miss Gaskill?" Arthur asks as Marybeth comes forward and grabs one of his hands. 

"Dance with me?" She asks, leaning back in an attempt to pull him from his seat. He chuckles, looking over to you for a moment with a rosy blush on his cheeks.

"Oh, I think I'll sit this one out-" Arthur starts, but you shove him upwards by his shoulder, laughing. 

"Go on!" You encourage, shooing them with your hands. Marybeth giggles as she pulls Arthur away, and he turns around to shoot you a glare, with pink cheeks. You chuckle, looking after them as she takes him away from the fire. She pulls him just near the back of Dutch's tent, beside the poker table. He takes her hand, standing awkwardly far from her as the other rests on her waist. You can't help but snort as he starts to dance.

He's awful. Truly the man can't dance, but it's just another quirk that you love about him. He swings side to side with her, arms loosely flinging about, and even though it looks ridiculous they both have huge smiles. A few others have joined, and now Dutch spins Molly around eloquently, and Karen and Sean cling to each other, drunk as ever. Your eyebrows pop up in surprise at the two of them. You had only seen Sean in passing before Blackwater, but Karen had never mentioned they were together. 

Your eyes flicker back to Arthur and Marybeth. They still dance merrily, but Marybeth seems to be scolding Arthur over something, arguing with him. Your eyebrows pull together as he huffs, bickering with her like a sibling would. Javier's song crescendos to an end, and as the claps die down, he starts a new one. You recognize it immediately, Ángel de Amor. It's a slower paced song, a sweet and romantic one. People join their own conversations as the song begins, leaving Javier to quietly carry the tune on his own. As it begins, Marybeth and Arthur's argument seems to come to a head as Marybeth gives him one final scold, and then walks away from him with a big smile. Confused, your eyebrows pull together as Arthur returns to you, but he doesn't sit down. He stands in front of you, extending his right hand down to yours. 

"Dance wit' me?" He asks, and you chuckle. 

"I don't know, you gonna trip me?" You ask, smiling up at him. The nervousness breaks away as he chuckles. 

"Not tonight." He says, and you take his hand, letting him pull you to your feet. 

"C'mon." He whispers, leading you past the campfire towards the front of his tent, far enough away from the campfire for some privacy.

Arthur pulls you into the same goofy dance as he did with Marybeth, and you smile brightly. Arthur's sure that your smile could outshine the stars, evoking that joy from you is one of the better things he's done in his life, something he wants to keep doing. 

"¿Quién te cortó las alas, mi ángel? ¿Quién te arranco los sueños hoy?" Javier sings softly as Arthur dances with you. 

"Y'know, I'm sorry to say this Arthur, but you can't dance for shit." You chuckle, glancing down at his feet that move with very little rhythm. 

"Oh I can. I'm just havin' fun. You shoulda seen me in my ballroom days." Arthur quips, and you laugh. You're sure he's joking, how Arthur could willingly be put in a ballroom is beyond you, it's surely a joke. Arthur raises an eyebrow at your laugh, wondering if you're seriously doubting him.

"You weren't never in a ballr-" You start, but are cut off with your own gasp as Arthur pulls you tightly against him. His hand snakes to your waist, his other clasps your hand tightly as he stands up straight and tall with a raised eyebrow. His body is stiff, but relaxed all the like, he's collected in his movements, experienced, as he leans you down, dipping you. Your eyes are wide in shock, as he holds you in the dip with a cocky smirk. Your heart rate pounds with him pulled so tightly against you, your neck exposed and hair cascading down as he bends you backwards. Then he brings you back up, chuckling. 

"You continue to surprise me more and more every day, Arthur." You chuckle, still in disbelief, "Where in the hell did you learn that?" You ask, heart beat returning to normal as he pulls you against him again, swaying you in a very simple slow dance. 

"Had to take lessons once when I was younger. Didn't care for it at all, but I was an idiot back then." Arthur says, and you hum, wondering if these fancy dancing lessons have anything to do with the letter in his tent.

"Ángel, Ángel, ángel de amor. No te abandones." Javier continues the song as Arthur pulls you a little closer to him, hand warm on your waist.

Your cheeks flush, hidden away in his chest as Arthur sways with you on the grass. A few eyes linger on you both, but Arthur turns your back to them so you never know. He's enjoying the moment. You haven't left yet, haven't walked away with blushed cheeks or made an excuse as to why you can't dance with him, and that has to count for something he's sure.

 It grows quiet between the two of you as you rest your head against his shoulder and sway with him. Soon your arm grows tired, so Arthur snakes both of his around your waist and you place yours on his chest. It's incredibly vulnerable for you to be like this, but you trust Arthur. He hasn't pushed you. Abigail nudges John across the camp, nodding her head to you, and a few more eyes linger on you both. Arthur ignores them, keeping you in a position so that you can't even see the nosey stares. 

"You look beautiful." Arthur whispers, eyes looking down at you, watching as the wind tousles your hair and your dark red shirt brings out your complexion beautifully. Your eyes sparkle up at him, but you blush and hide them away in his shoulder as he sways you to the music.

"Arthur, stop." You chastise, cheeks red as you hide them. You're a bit upset that he's ruined the mood, taken your mind from simple dancing to the conundrum of your heart. He hums deeply, nodding his head. 

"You ain't ready yet, I know… I'll wait 'til you are. For you, I will." Arthur whispers, and tears begin to pool in your eyes, "And if you decide you don't want any a' this, that's okay too. I'm still your best friend." Arthur whispers, and tears run down your face silently, soaking into his dark shirt. 

"I'll dance with you for real one day, somewhere nice." Arthur whispers, and you look up to his green eyes. They soften when they see the tears falling from your own. You're thinking of a proper response when Arthur speaks up for you. 

"S'okay. You don't gotta say anything." Arthur whispers, thumb wiping away the tears from your cheek. You sniffle, hands clinging to the lapels of his shirt as the music continues on for a bit longer. 

"Yo no siento el que me hayas querido. Yo no siento el que me hayas amado." Javier sings, strumming his guitar. 

Arthur's heart aches, holding you like this, swaying with you and knowing you won't allow yourself to open up. He places his chin atop your head, inhaling deeply before letting the breath go with his worries. You're here now, that's all he can ask for.

Your heart aches just the same. It's torn in two,  both sides fighting for different things. One is fighting for what you know: independence, freedom, and solitude in the west without being held down by a gang. And the other is fighting for what you want: family and friendships, the safety of numbers, purpose and most of all him. 

You sigh, squeezing your eyes shut while blocking the thoughts out, letting yourself enjoy the moment. 

"I'm sorry, Arthur." You whisper, and he leans back, unsure if he's heard you right. 

"What on earth are you apologizin' for?" He asks as Javier's song comes to a bittersweet end. 

"Me… us." You whisper, gesturing to him and yourself. You're a mess, unable to get your feelings in order, unable to figure out what you want, and to tell him. You feel awful, dragging him along without ever fully opening up to him but it's so hard. 

Arthur takes your hands in his own, and you look up to his eyes. 

"Cut that out. Don't you apologize to me, ya hear? Not for this." Arthur says, no room for argument and you nod. 

"Now c'mon. Plenty of people waitin' for us at the fire." Arthur says, pulling you by the hand towards the camp. You pass by John's tent, feeling a little better.

With a small smile on your lips, you walk on with him. That is until you hear a shuffling from John's tent, and a groan. You stop dead in your tracks, looking up to where John and Abigail sit next to Jack by the fire. If they're at the campfire… who's in their tent?

"C'mere ya little minx!" Sean chuckles from inside the tent. Your jaw drops, and your hand falls slack from Arthur's. He turns at your reaction, catching the same scene. 

"Isn't this John's tent?" Karen asks, and you hear the ripping of buttons immediately. You look at Arthur with wide eyes, and a slack jaw, chuckling in horror.

"Eh, it's not like he's usin' it anyways!" Fabric hits the floor as you and Arthur stare at the closed tent in shock, "Ah, you're beautiful Karen Jones, beautiful, I love ya! And I love these too!" Sean chuckles and your cheeks burn red.

"Oh." Karen whispers, disappointed in something as you start to laugh. 

"Meet Macguire junior!" Sean hollers, and immediately Arthur clasps his hand over your mouth to quiet the loud laughter that was about to fall from it. 

"Is- is that it?" Karen asks, and you're nearly wheezing as Arthur keeps his hand over your mouth, chuckling himself until you're out of earshot from their tent. 

"Oh my god." You laugh until tears form in your eyes, and Arthur is laughing as well. You've managed to escape in front of Arthur's tent to avoid the show those two are putting on. Once your laughter dies down, you wipe your eyes, moving them to the campfire once more. 

Abigail has taken Jack into her lean-to next to Strauss's wagon to lie down for the night, and some of the girls along with Dutch and Molly have retired for bed. 

"You comin' back to the fire?" Arthur asks, following your gaze. You look up to him, then to the festivities, biting your cheek. 

"I think I'm gonna go to bed, actually." You whisper, feeling bad for bailing so soon. You're exhausted from the oil wagon today, and you want to be well rested for tomorrow. Arthur’s face falls a bit as he glances at the party behind him, then to his pocket watch. 

"So soon?" Arthur asks, looking a little disappointed. 

"I'm sorry Arthur, it's just with the train tomorrow… I want to be well rested with a clear head." You whisper. 

"I understand." He whispers, it's past one in the morning, and he knows you're tired, "I reckon I'll stay up for a bit yet, keep these boys in line… Get some sleep, Star." Arthur whispers, coming forward to gently chastise you, tapping your temple, "and stop worryin' about the train. It'll go just fine." He offers with a smile before backing away. 

"Night Arthur." You mumble, attempting to follow his instructions and release your anxieties. 

"G'night, Star."

— — — — 

The next morning, you wake up earlier than expected. You don't know what time it is, still haven't replaced Arthur's pocket watch from where it was left behind in Blackwater. But it's quiet enough for you to know that no one else is up. You stretch in bed, enjoying the feel as your achy joints pop. You flex your ankle, noticing that the ache has subsided from your less than stellar landing yesterday, and then you're getting up.

You pull on a dark green overshirt, one of your favorites, a black pair of jeans that button up the whole way, and a little white neckerchief, tied in the front. It's a cute outfit, and you hum, checking yourself over before re braiding your hair and topping it with your black hat. Then you're on the move, in search of some coffee. 

You find that you were wrong, you're not the only one up. You chuckle as Jack whizzes up to you, more excited than you've ever seen. 

"Aunt Star!" He jumps excitedly, taking your hand and pointing to the hitching posts, "look!" He shouts, giggling. 

Your eyebrows knit together at the sight of Kieran taking on the role of the camp farrier. He has a very grumpy Balius with him, and he's working on pulling the nails from the shire's massive shoe. 

"Kieren's shoin' the horses…? You ask, confused as to why Jack's so excited, then a chuckle sounds out from your right. Arthur is leaning over his shaving station, face partially covered in shaving cream as he trims his mustache and beard with a barber's blade. You smile at the sight, something you've not seen him do before. Of course he shaves with an incredible amount of detail and care, just like everything else he does. 

"Well…" Arthur taps the blade against his pail of water before returning it to his cheek, "when Kieran's done, little Jack here will have four new shoes for playin' horseshoes' with everyone. We haven't been able to play in a long while, not since before you joined us." Arthur explains, and you smile at the idea. 

"Well then I can't wait!" You say, rubbing some dirt off of Jack's cheek before he runs off, on his way to tell his very hungover daddy about the ordeal. 

"You're good with him. He really seems to care about you." Arthur remarks and you smile. 

"Ah, it's nothin'. He's a good kid." You mumble, remembering your earlier task of needing coffee, and you spot the percolator from across camp near Pearson's stew pot. You wonder if it's even full, with so few of the gang members awake. 

"I'm gonna go make some coffee, want some?" You ask, but Arthur stops you.

"Already made ya some. It's sittin on my table, should still be hot." He says, wiping the extra cream from his face with a damp towel.

"On the ball this morning, are we?" You ask, chuckling as you move inside his tent to find a steaming tin cup of coffee. You gratefully accept the bitter coffee, enjoying the way the cup warms your hands and the caffeine wakes your mind. 

"Well I need a favor." He asks, turning towards you, "Ride with me?" 

You raise an eyebrow at him, seeing that he's bribed you, but you nod anyway. 

"Sure, where to?" You ask as he comes around the side of his tent, leading you to the large map plastered to the side of his wagon. 

"Think right here is a good spot." He taps the map right over a little marshy field labeled Heartland Overflow.  

"Why are we goin' all the way out there?" You ask, eyeing over the map. The marsh is near a spot marked Emerald Ranch, a place you haven't heard of before. 

"There's a feller nearby that runs a fence. I managed to steal some stuff from the camp where they had Sean, reckon I'll head down and sell it off. Then I figure me n' you can spend the mornin' there. I know you're worried about this train, we can just rest away from camp till it's time." Arthur explains, pulling out his hunting knife to sharpen the blade as he does. 

"Okay, that sounds nice." You smile, releasing a breath before taking a sip from your coffee, "Should I take my stuff for the train or will we be back?" You ask, gesturing to your tent. 

He follows your gaze, thinking for a moment. 

"Ya better take it, I don't know how long we'll be out." He mumbles, and you nod before walking back towards your tent. Amidst your anxieties, you had packed everything you might need for the train: your guns, mask, canned goods in case you get stuck away from camp, extra ammo and the shotgun you'd found at Six Point cabin. Looking over your bed and nightstand just to make sure you haven't missed something, you back out of the tent. 

"Kieran done with Balius?" You ask, keeping your voice quiet as to not wake up the many sleeping, hungover gang members. 

"Looks to be just about." Arthur says, nodding to where Kieran drops Balius's back hoof to the ground, giving him a pat. 

"C'mon then. I'll lead the way." He adds. 

You both take your time tacking up the horses. For once, there's no rush to be anywhere. You brush Athena's golden coat thoroughly, petting her and sneaking her treats while Arthur does the same for his stallion. You ease the saddle on her, tightening the cinches just enough before mounting up. 

"Ready?" You ask, looking down to Arthur with a chuckle as he is just putting Balius's bridle on.

"Just a minute." He says, rather grumpily. And you wait for him, loosening your reins so that Athena can graze while he clambers up onto his massive horse. Once he's up, he nods for you to follow him out of camp. It's a decently long ride. Emerald Ranch is pretty far out there, but it's close to Dewberry Creek, so at least you won't be far from the train come dark. You focus on the scenery, watching the way the landscape changes the further you ride on. As you get closer, the jutting cliffs turn to grassy plains, and bison cause the ground to shake as they thunder across the fields. 

"Are we close?" You holler up to Arthur. Your back is a little sore from the long ride, and you slip your feet out of the stirrups to give your legs rest. 

"Sure…  Why? You feelin alright?" Arthur turns in his saddle, glancing over your form to check. Really you don't feel alright. You didn't sleep much last night, truthfully you're not sure how Arthur is awake because he slept less than you. You're still not able to shake your nerves either. 

"Yeah, just tired is all." You semi lie, but Arthur isn't fooled. 

"I'll take you to the Overflow first. You can set us up a proper picnic while I run this stuff down to the fence. Sound good?" Arthur asks, turning Balius off the main road. 

"Yeah. You brought a picnic?" You smile, noticing that Arthur's saddlebags are bulkier than usual. You should have noticed earlier that they're stuffed to the brim. 

"I did. Nothin' fancy but I figured you might get hungry while we're out here." Arthur answers, and you chuckle, wondering what treats he's packed for you. You trot through the grass, coming upon a little collection of grassy ponds. This must be Heartland Overflow. It's beautiful, and wildlife runs about, scattering at the sound of the horse's hooves. 

"Why don't you take my bag n' find us a nice spot?" Arthur asks as you ride up alongside Balius. He turns in his saddle, untying the knots that hold his saddle bag on before slumping it over Athena's croup. 

"Okay. Don't take too long or I'm gonna be havin' this all for myself." You admit, chuckling as you turn Athena away, separating from Arthur. 

Arthur shakes his head with a smile before pushing Balius into a canter towards a green-roofed barn in the distance. Once he's down the other side of the hill and you can't see him any longer, you turn to your surroundings. 

Across the pond is a large weeping willow. It provides a perfect amount of shade, and makes a beautiful spot for the morning. You kiss to Athena, urging her to walk through the ankle deep water toward the other side. Water splashes up and soaks onto your boots as Athena trots through it, enjoying the coolness on her legs. Once you're on the other side, under the weeping willow, you slide down from your mare. You don't bother to hitch her. She trusts you enough to come when you call, and you want her to enjoy the grassy fields while she can. You take the heavy saddle bag and toss it to the ground under the willow before sitting on your knees to go through it. 

First you take out a blanket, it's a big blue one, and you stand to spread it out on the grass. The wind works to your advantage as you sprawl it out, making a perfect cushion for you both to sit on. Then, seated on the blanket, you pull out two cans of peaches, two bread rolls, a can of strawberries, two slices of beef jerky, and a chocolate bar. You eye the food hungrily, laying it out nice for when Arthur comes back. Then, just to double check, you reach back into the bag. Your fingers brush against an unfamiliar smooth texture, and your eyebrows pull together as you grip it, taking it out. 

Immediately your eyes go wide as, from the bag, you bring out Arthur's journal. You hold the precious book in your lap, looking down to the heavily used pages before looking up at the ridge.

You shouldn't… but Arthur won't be back for some time and you really want to know what he's written. You've only seen the contents of his journal once, back when he showed you in Horseshoe. 

Releasing a breath, you curse yourself, deciding just to flip to one page and then put it back. You run your thumb across the pages, flipping to one of the more recent entries. Immediately you smile, chuckling as your eyes run across the page briefly. It's a drawing of you and Lenny. He's leaning on the bar, drinking a beer and you're dancing in front of the pianist. Arthur had managed to capture the moment perfectly, as if he had paused time and drawn it. You scan down your smiling face, looking back to you in the form of Arthur's sketching. Even in the drawing you can see the drunken haze in your eyes, the freedom as you danced to the piano to your heart's content. 

Then your eyes flicker to the other side of the page where a neatly written entry is scribbled diagonally on the paper. 

In some ways I hope I never forget this night. In others, I wish to wipe it from my mind entirely. It seems that alcohol loosened Star's lips, and I guess it loosened mine too. I just hope I don't come to regret the things I said, the things I remember at least. 

You look up from the journal, jaw slack as you attempt to remember what happened that night. What had you said? What had Arthur said? 

You swallow thickly, looking down to the journal with some worry before flipping to the next page. 

Mary sent me a letter. Said she's in town and heard talk of us in Valentine. She wants to see me, said she misses what we had. I used to. I used to miss her a lot, but I reckon that's all old business now. I think I've finally put Mary in the past, moved on after all these goddamn years. I got some hope now, something good for once. 

You look up from the journal with your jaw open again. His journal has left you with more questions than answers, and you huff. Mary clearly meant something to Arthur at one point, perhaps an old fling? But the girls knew of her, so she had to mean something more. 

With a newfound sour mood, you tuck Arthur's journal back into his bag. Is it jealousy you feel? Or anger? You're not sure, but without having met her, Mary manages to get under your skin. You wonder if she's pretty, and if she has the money to wear nice dresses and makeup. Then you sigh, frustrated. Even though his journal is stuffed back into his bag, you can feel its leather cover burning into your skin, bugging you. 

Hooves sound out from the ridge line, and you look up to see Arthur appear over the hill. He's cantering down towards you, satchel lighter now that he's pawned off some items. Even though you're glad he's back, you can't help the annoyed curiosity that bubbles up in your stomach. 

Oblivious, Arthur rides up to the blanket before dismounting. 

"Good spot." He says, sending Balius off after grabbing a flask from his satchel, "Turns out old Seamus sells too." Arthur chuckles, tossing the moonshine flask down onto the blanket by your legs. 

Attempting to crack a smile, you take the flask and unscrew the lid. Arthur rests down on the blanket beside you, sitting just a few inches from you. Once the lid is undone, you take a swig of the alcohol. It burns, more so than anything you've ever drank, and you cough, throat raw from the stuff. 

"Jesus." You cough, handing the flask back to Arthur. 

"Moonshine. Nasty stuff." Arthur jokes, taking a drink from the same flask. He doesn't seem to mind it, only groaning once it's down. Arthur sees the distant look on your face, he notices that you haven't touched any of the food laid out either. 

"You okay?" Arthur asks, a little crease in between his eyebrows. You look upset, and Arthur hopes that you're not worrying about the train. 

"Who's Mary?" You blurt out, not even realizing you've actually said it out loud until Arthur's face draws up. 

"What?" Arthur asks, looking almost offended, and very surprised. 

"I asked you, who's Mary?" You repeat, looking up to Arthur. Your tone is irritated, and you realize that you're ruining the picnic, but you can't bring yourself to stop. You're mad, mad because Arthur has managed to keep this from you, and apparently you're the only one in the damn gang that doesn't know about her. 

"How do you even know about Mary?" Arthur scoffs, eyes squinted as he leans back from you. 

"Jesus, I didn't realize she was a secret. I guess I just wanna know why she's callin' you out to her house all the sudden when I haven't even heard of her before." You bite. 

Arthur's demeanor changes then, shifting to the angry, threatening man that you've only seen a handful of times in action. Part of you wants to shy away, but you push your shoulders back and meet him head on with the same stubborn aggression. 

"Did you read my damn mail?" Arthur hisses, glancing at you, and then down to the bag at your side. Everything seems to click in his head then, and he huffs humorlessly. 

"No. No you read my goddamn journal, didn't you? Just couldn't keep your nosey eyes off them pages huh?" He bites, picking up the bag just to toss it at your feet. The contents spill out in your lap, and his open journal falls out alongside the candies he had brought for you, the yellow ones. 

"Y'know I hope you read it all. I hope you read every damn page, cause then you won't have to ask anymore questions. We wouldn't be playin this damn game…" Arthur hisses, pacing as he begins to berate you. "Why do you have the right to ask me about Mary when you haven't told me shit about your past? You can't even talk to me. You can't open up at all, closed off like a damn bottle, but you have no problem pryin' into everybody else's lives!" He growls, waiting for you to bite back.

On the ground, feeling like a fool, your lip trembles. You know he's right. He's hit the nail right on the head with his assumption, but it hurts nonetheless. You've stepped too far, you know, but it doesn't stop Arthur from overstepping too. 

"Heard you was pryin' into John's business too. God- you're a hypocrite. Did you think at all about your inability to handle your own shit before you went and did that?" Arthur fumes, and you bring your knees up to your chin. Arthur is waiting for your retort, for your comeback. He knows it'll come, but with his back to you, waiting, it doesn't. You always have a retort, and your silence is louder than any insult you could have thrown back at him. When he turns back towards you, already realizing he's crossed a boundary, he sees the tear track running down your cheek.

"Don't." You whisper, sniffling back the tears that fall so often now, "I can take this from anyone but you." You whimper, head falling to your knees. 

When Arthur's eyes land upon you he doesn't know what to do. You look so small, crumpled up on the ground, a mess. He wants to argue with you, to be mad about the journal, but at the same time he wants to comfort you. He knows what you're battling right now, and he knows he shouldn't have brought it up. Feeling like an ass, Arthur slumps to the ground at your side again. He lays back against the blanket, looking up at the sky before sighing. 

"Mary was my fiancé. Long time ago. Ain't talked to her in years." Arthur admits, and you peek up from your knees, wondering what sparked the change in his tone. 

"Now that's all I'm giving you until you tell me somethin too. But for now, eat somethin. We gotta get movin soon." Arthur says, coldly. 

— — — —

It's nearly dark. There's just enough light for you to make the trip over to Dewberry Creek. You lead the way silently, still not having said a word to Arthur since the argument. You don't know what to say. Apologies aren't exactly your strong suit. You're mad. Mad at Arthur, but mostly mad at yourself for ruining the day with your selfishness, your hypocrisy as Arthur put it. 

You can hear Sean rambling as you approach the old building, and you trot Athena up to where the wagon is hidden. 

"Why the hell are you here?" Arthur snaps at Sean, clearly still irritated from earlier. You've put him in a sour mood, one that everyone is going to have to deal with. 

"Oi I’m just taggin along! Back for a day n’ already jumpin inta the action! My da always used to say that jumpin in was better than jumpin’ out! But I think he was talkin about gettin some arse!" Sean chuckles, not skipping a beat over Arthur's attitude. 

"Oh, shut up." Charles groans, and at the sound of his voice you notice him leaning against one of the beams of the burned down house. John is already in the driver's side of the wagon, and Taima and Old Boy are hooked up to the front. You dismount, walking over to the wagon behind Arthur. 

"Look at us! Four strong shootin men, and a lady!" Sean chuckles, climbing up on the wagon beside John who rolls his eyes. 

"Shouldn't we be going over the plan?" Charles points out, climbing onto the side of the wagon to hang on, just as you and Arthur do on the other side. The wagon begins to roll out of the trees as John smacks the reins over the horse's backs. 

"We roll the wagon over the tracks and leave the horses go." John explains, "They'll see the oil and stop. It's easy." 

Sean turns in his seat, looking over the wagon before turning back to John. 

"Yeah but t'eres no oil in the wagon." Sean points out, and collectively everyone else rolls their eyes. 

"Well the conductor don't know that, so it don't matter!" John bites, irritated with everyone's doubts and questions. 

"I don't like it…" You whisper, gripping onto the metal bars of the wagon as it rolls down the road, inching closer towards the train tracks. 

"We ain't got much of a choice." John replies. Once the plan is set, Arthur begins ordering people around, crafting a more detailed plan for the job. 

"As soon as she stops, board her. Charles, deal with the conductor and the front security. John take the passengers. Sean and Star, as soon as she slows, head to the baggage car." He orders, and you roll your eyes at the assignment he's stuck you with. 

"And what are you gonna do?" Charles asks. 

"I'm gonna make sure she slows." 

John pulls the wagon forward, slowing the horses to a stop once the oil wagon is situated over the tracks. You jump down as John and Arthur begin untying the horses from the front, sending them away into the woods.

"Is everyone good with the plan?" Arthur hollers, and you look around, realizing that this is happening. It's inescapable now, and you'll have to deal with the anxiety in your chest. 

"Yeah, we're good." Charles answers, and you nod your head, eyes fixed on the bed in the railroad tracks where the train will be approaching shortly. 

"Alright everyone get in the woods!" Arthur orders, pulling his mask up over his nose before placing one of his boots on the iron track. Charles notices your hesitancy, and grips your arm to pull you towards the treeline. 

"Hey, you alright?" Charles asks, pulling your neckerchief up over your nose as you've forgotten. You nod, a little too quick for his liking. 

"Just nervous." You admit. 

"Just stick with Sean. You'll be okay." Charles offers, squeezing your shoulder lightly. You nod, focusing your attention back on Arthur. 

You feel the vibration of the train long before you see it coming. Arthur's boot shakes against the track, and once he feels it coming he climbs up on top of the oil wagon. You gasp, eyes going wide as he holds his carbine in front of him, in a threatening stance on top of the wagon. He looks like nothing short of a criminal up there, a cold hearted killer. He stands on the wagon with a threatening stance, symbolizing everything that the government wishes to destroy. Feet planted on either side of the oil barrel, it doesn't appear that Arthur will be giving the law a break any time soon. The sight of him standing up on that wagon is one you're sure you'll never forget. If you didn't know Arthur, you'd be terrified. 

Nothing can be heard but uneven, anxious breathing as the train comes around the corner. it's far off, too far for the conductor to see Arthur, but once the bright white headlight peeks around the bend your breath hitches in your throat. 

Arthur cocks his repeater, and you watch as the train comes closer. You expect the train to blow its whistle, for the conductor to do something to warm off Arthur, but he doesn't. Your eyebrows draw together as the train continues to barrel forward, unbothered by the obstruction ahead.

"Why ain't it slowin'?" You ask, breath uneven as your heart rate picks up speed. 

No one responds, watching as it continues forward. Even Arthur seems to lose his composure, stance faltering as the train continues on. It's getting closer to the wagon, and you're not sure if it'll have time to stop before it crashes. 

"There's still time. Hold on." Sean says, eyes flickering up to the rapidly approaching train. 

"John?! Why ain't it stoppin?!" You beg, looking frantically between Arthur and the train. Charles pulls out a pair of binoculars, looking through them to the engine car. 

"Shit! He's dead or he's asleep, but either way the train isn't stopping." Charles says, stuffing his binoculars back as anxiety pangs in your chest. The train is too close now, it can't stop in time even if the conductor were to wake up.

"ARTHUR JUMP!" John screams as all four of you jog out of the woods. Arthur glances between the group of you and the train, unable to hear over the rumbling and screeching. 

"JUMP!" You plead, screaming. Arthur glances at the train once more, and getting the message he jumps as far out as he can. He hits the ground hard, rolling down the slope before he stops. It's only seconds later that the train smashes into the oil wagon. You thank god it's empty, and there's no explosion, but the metallic screech hurts your ears as the train pushes the wagon over in a huge crash. Sparks fly as metal scrapes off metal, but the train carries on forward, pushing the oil wagon in front of it until itfalls off to the side. 

"Why the hell didn't he stop?!" Arthur yells, whistling for Balius.

"The conductor is dead!" You yell, "Are we really still doin' this?" 

Four horses come running up the hill towards you, and the boys mount up ahead of you. 

"Yes! Now mount up, we can catch it before it gets to Rhodes!" John yells, and you leap onto Athena, urging her forward before you even put your feet in the stirrups. The chase is terrifying. It's hard to see in the dark, and you put full trust into Athena as she barrels forward after the train. Sean is the first to catch up, and he jumps from his horse onto the train's roof.

Your heart pounds in your ears as you run forward, watching as Charles, John and Arthur all jump onto the train. 

"Star, cmon!" Arthur yells, and you try to breath as you stand in your saddle, barely able to balance. You jump as far as you can, hoping that you'll make it. The jump is terrifying, but worse is the pain as your body slams against the side of the train. Only your hands have made it to the top as you grip onto the roof, feet dangling down to the rapidly passing ground below. Then a hand grips yours, and pulls you up into the roof. You gasp, looking up to yours and Arthur's hands, muttering a small 'thanks' between trembling breaths. 

"Plan stays the same. Charles, get this thing stopped!" Arthur orders, just as two armed guards climb up onto the roof.

"They're fixin' to rob the train!" One of the boys yells and starts shooting from his revolver. You unholster your own, balancing on the quick moving train as you fire twice into the man's chest. The second man breaches the top, and Sean takes him down with a headshot. The train makes you motion sick, and you have to bite down bile, forcing your eyes away from the ground. 

"We're gettin' too damn close to the town!" John yells, firing into more men as they climb up onto the roof. 

You whip around, looking for Charles to see if he's made progress in getting to the engine car. You don't see him on the roof, so you assume he's close. 

"John! Get down there, me and Star will hold them off. Sean, get to the baggage car!" Arthur yells out. They follow his orders, jumping down to the train cars from behind you and Arthur. 

"Why's there so many?" You yell over the noise as two more men fire toward you.

"I don't know, sure are a lot for an unguarded train- goddammit!" Arthur yells back. 

You lose your balance as the train quickly starts to slow down. Sparks fly and metal screeches as the train begins to slow. You release a breath, reloading your revolver as more guards shoot at you from across the train cars. The train never stops, instead in one fluid movement it slows enough and then starts going backwards.

"Wait- wait, shit!" You yell as the train starts moving in reverse. Just as quickly as the train has stopped, it starts accelerating in the wrong direction, back towards Valentine. 

"What the hell is happenin?" You scream back towards the engine car. You fire into one last guard, and then they stop coming up to the roof for now. 

"We're goin' too fast!" You point out, losing your balance again as trees start to blur by, making you dizzy. 

"Shit, I know. Just get to Sean, I'll see what's happenin' up front!" Arthur hollers, bracing himself as he jumps onto the next train car. 

"Star?" Arthur yells, and you turn around, "Don't get hurt." You nod, and with that he turns, running on the rapidly reversing train towards the engine.

You try to calm down your breathing as you run across the tops of the train cars, jumping as far as you can between each one. Your heart pounds rapidly in your ears, and the train accelerating is nothing but a background noise in your head. Revolver in hand, eventually you make it to the baggage car. 

"Sean you alive?" You yell, bracing yourself as you jump from the roof down onto the platform below. The land sends an ache through your knees, but you do land. 

"Yeah makin out real good down here!" Sean hollers back as you enter the caboose. 

"Why the hell are we in reverse?" Sean asks, stuffing a saddle bag full of cash and jewelry. You immediately get to helping him, ripping open the cupboards and stripping them of their content before shoving the precious items into Sean's bag. 

"I got no idea. Arthur n Charles are dealin' with it." You respond, glancing out the window and gasping when you see that you're nearing Flatneck Station. You've crossed the state line back into New Hanover, and in less than five minutes you'll be crossing over Bard's Crossing, the infamously high railroad bridge. 

"Oh my god, fuck." You curse, stuffing the bags even quicker. Shots ring out from the roof, and you gasp, neck snapping up. 

"That's gotta be Arthur or Charles." You gasp. You look down the train cars to see John pistol whip a man for not giving up his money. 

"Go help ‘em! I'm alright here for now!" Sean hollers, and you nod, running out of the car. Momentarily holstering your gun, you leap up onto the roof, pulling yourself up. Arthur is up there, shooting at a couple of men across the train as you run up to help him.

"You guys got the money?" He asks. 

"Yeah! Why ain't we stopped?!" You yell, shooting at the men, and clipping one in the neck. He falls off the train, and you wince as his body cracks against the quickly passing ground. Just then, Charles comes running across the cars, jumping over the gaps towards you. 

"Conductors dead! Doors locked and he fell on the reverse lever. I can't stop it." Charles explains, "We gotta go NOW, it's not stopping!" He yells, just as two more boys climb up onto the roof. 

"Rot in hell you bastards!" One yells, and you go to reload your revolver, but it's empty. You curse, looking ahead to where the caboose is barreling towards the bridge. 

A man climbs up from behind you, taking you by surprise as he knocks the gun from Arthur's hand. Arthur turns around and punches him right in the face, nose cracking as blood pours from his face. 

"Get off the train! I got this bastard!" Arthur yells, and you hyperventilate, glancing between him and the bridge. Sean and John have already jumped, and you see them riding alongside the train with Athena, Taima and Balius. Charles jumps down, just as Arthur kicks the man off the side of the train. He hits the ground with a sickening crack, and Arthur turns to you, no longer asking. 

"Star, go!" Arthur commands, and you gasp as another man comes up from the side of the train, pulling Arthur into a chokehold from behind.

"Get down here! We can't help him till you're out the way!" John screams up to you, and panicking, you leap. The jump is terrifying, and the land onto your saddle knocks the breath out of you. But then you're safe on Athena, barreling towards the cliffs edge where the bridge begins, waiting for Arthur to deal with the last guard. 

"Does anyone have a shot on him?" Sean yells, gun aimed up at the man who is fighting Arthur. Arthur's body is bigger than the man, and at the angle you're at, it's impossible to kill him without killing Arthur. Arthur struggles, elbowing the man in the gut to break free from his chokehold. 

"No!" John yells back. 

"Arthur!" You scream, though futile, watching as the train gets closer to the bridge. 

"I got this bastard." Arthur chokes out, coughing as he elbows the man enough to get away from his grip. You slide Athena into a stop to avoid running off a cliff as the train starts to go over the bridge. The wind howls in your ear from the elevation as you watch on in horror.

"What do we do!? John-" You whimper, feeling useless and helpless as Arthur punches the man, fists raised as they brawl atop the train. 

"He'll be okay. He will. He'll get down on the other side and we'll run over and get him." John replies. All you can do is watch as the train accelerates across the bridge, and you've never been so afraid in your life. Arthur takes a punch in the gut, leaving him vulnerable. 

"Does anyone have a shot!!?" Sean screams, gun raised. But Arthur is still in the way, and no one can help him, he's on his own.

Somehow the next moment happens in a lifetime, and a fraction of a second. Arthur takes a punch straight straight to the gut, and he doubles over, left vulnerable. The guard steadied himself, lifting his leg until the sole of his boot meets Arthur's stomach. The train is rolling right over the highest part of the bridge as the guard kicks out. Arthur stumbles, and the kick sends him falling over the side of the train. 

All the air leaves your lungs, your eyes go wide, and everything stops as Arthur falls. You're frozen, watching as Arthur falls down past the bridge. It's a high drop, too high. Your eyes go wide as Arthur's arms stretch up, attempting to grasp onto something that isn't there as he plummets two hundred feet down to the lake below.  

"No-" You breathe out, just barely a whisper as you stumble down from Athena, nearly falling from the saddle. 

"Arthur!-" John gasps.

"NO!-" You scream, breaths coming in quick, uncontrollable pants as tears fill your eyes and fall out in thick rivulets. You stumble to the ledge of the bridge, on the tracks, gripping the fence so tight that your knuckles turn white. 

The other three men are slack jawed, horrified. They all gasp, stunned beyond being capable to speak. When you look down, you see the rippling water where Arthur had landed, landed but not come back up.  

"NO!!" You sob, unable to hold back your tears as you fall back, hands never leaving the fence. Your cries are shoulder shaking, and you can't bring yourself to care that you are sobbing in front of the other men. 

"Get back to camp right now and don't get followed." John orders Charles and Sean, tears in his eyes that he quickly wipes away. They comply, silently nodding before turning their horses and galloping home, shell-shocked.

You're too stunned to notice what's going on around you, but your sobs have slowed, turned into aching, painful heaves as your nails dig into the fence, as if you holding on to it will pull Arthur back up to you. 

"Star?" John whispers, so quiet from behind you. You shake your head, knowing what he's going to ask of you. 

"Star, we gotta go. The law will be here soon." John tries to reason, fighting his own internal ache. You're not having it, not leaving, and John places his hands on your shoulders, begging you to come with him. You can't stop looking down at the rippling water, waiting for him to come back up, and tearing your eyes away when he doesn't, a vicious cycle. 

"W-we can't leave him John. What if he- what if he's down there and he needs help?" You cry, lungs aching. 

"I know. We won't. We won't leave him. But we can't help him if the law gets to us." He says, and you nod frantically, thinking over his idea. 

He tries to pull you backwards, away from the bridge. You make it two steps back before the anxiety of not seeing the water wins over and your body practically shies away from John. 

"I can't- I can't go, he…" You begin, biting your cheek until it bleeds, stuck in a state of shock that you can't shake. 

"John, what if he didnt-" You sob, unable to finish the sentence that plagues your mind along with the image of his plummet. 

"He did… Star I ain't goin back to camp missing two people, please come home." He pleads, turning as law whistles sound in the distance. 

"No. I can't." You say, stern in your choice. Because what is there to go back to without him? And what if he needs help?

"Where will you go?" He asks, glancing to the whistles in the distance. 

"I guess across the river so I-" your face crumbles at the idea, "so I can look for him." 

John nods, whistling lowly for Old Boy. The horse trots forward, and John quickly unwraps his camp kit from Old Boy's saddle before tightening it onto Athena's. 

"My camp kit. Take it, you'll need it." He turns to you then, red eyes looking into yours. "Be safe out here… and don't lose yourself. Arthurs my brother. But if he ain't back in a day or two, you gotta come home. He'd want that." John says, voice even raspier than usual as he deals with his emotion. You nod, tears filling your eyes as places his hand on your shoulder.

"If he comes back to camp I'll come for you right away." He offers, and you nod. 

And then he's mounting up, offering you a bittersweet tip of his hat as he rides away. And you're suddenly alone. There's no one here to pick up your broken pieces, so you pick them up yourself, climbing into the saddle and cantering away from the approaching law whistles. You don't try to stop the tears. Some are silent, sliding down your face and dripping into your saddle, but some are loud, and you have to leave go of the reins to sob into your hands. You make it to the other side of the river thanks to Athena, with Balius trotting beside you the entire way. No one tells you what to do when something like this happens. You're lost, left to figure it out as you operate like a shell of a human being, going through the motions to avoid the law. 

Once you're across the Dakota, situated just on the treeline close to the bank you slide down from your mare to sit in the grass, knees held up to your chin as you watch the water. You've never seen it so still. There's not a ripple other than the steady flow out to the lake. The law whistles get louder, and you listen for them as you numbly watch the water for hours, lost in your head. Eventually the law dissipates, giving up and going home.

You don't know if he's dead or not, but the chances of him being okay right now are bad. The bridge hangs over the horizon like a tyrant, a constant reminder of what's just happened. You try to avoid looking at it, try to avoid seeing the fall, the fear in his eyes as his feet left the train. 

You can't help but drift to the fact that your last real conversation was an argument, and you ache to go back in time and spend the day at his picnic like he'd planned. He was right about you. You're a hypocrite. All Arthur has done since you met him was offer kindness when you didn't deserve it. He gave and gave and you took and took. He told you his feelings time and again through his words and his actions. And you rejected him again and again. All because you were afraid. He said it when you went fishing with Jack, he said it when you danced at Sean's party and when you were drunk under the stars. Arthur told you he would wait. He would wait until you were ready. And here you are. It appears your time is up, and Arthur has waited all he can. 

You think back to that first night in Colter, what you'd told yourself that rang out to be true… good people die. 

Nothing happens for a long while. You don't move, and your limbs ache from your curled up position, but you don't care. You've been watching the water for hours to no avail, but then it happens. Something small washes up on the shore, something black. And as soon as your eyes flicker towards it your face crumples, and falls into your knees with a sob. 

"No, no, not him- please." You whimper to yourself quietly, realizing that he's really gone.

You wipe away your tears, finding the strength to stand up from the grass and pluck the object from the shoreline where it washed up. In your hand is an all too familiar black leather hat, wrapped with rope and adorned with a one of a kind hat ornament. 

You place it on the ground by your legs, curling in on yourself as the grief overtakes you, causing your body to ache and your lungs to burn from the sobs that erupt from them. 

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[lau219]

Why Deny?

Part 9

Previous part here

…………………………………………………………………………….

The tension was still thick as Y/N cheerfully greeted Foster. She could feel the hatred radiating off of Leonard behind her, and the sneer on Foster’s face returned briefly as he once again quickly glanced at Leonard before focusing on her again.

“Hey, gorgeous,” he said, his smile returning as he looked at her. “Been looking forward to seeing you.”

He then looked at Leonard one more time and spoke again.

“What happened, Miller?” he asked with a cocky smirk on his face. “Couldn’t get a real date for yourself so you forced her to come with you?”

Y/N’s pulse quickened in concern of a confrontation, but Leonard stayed calmly seated in his chair behind her. He remained silent, not responding to Foster, only continuing to stare him down.

Although she didn’t turn around, Y/N knew that Leonard’s expression must have been a formidable one, as she noticed Foster slightly squirm when he waited for a retort but didn’t get it, Leonard’s cold silence more intimidating than any remark. And although Foster always talked a big game, she’d always been able to tell that he was threatened by Leonard. And rightfully so, Y/N thought to herself. He wasn’t half the man or half the agent Leonard was. Still, that didn’t stop his cocky display or egotism, and he quickly recovered and looked at her again.

“Come on, let me show you what a good time really looks like,” he said. He reached out and offered his hand to her, and she took it, rising from her seat and smiling at him.

“Sounds great,” she said.

As she stood up, she quickly turned around to push in her chair, and as she moved, Leonard caught her eyes before she faced Foster again.

“We’re leaving in one hour,” he said to her firmly, loud enough for Foster to also hear. But before she could say anything, Foster cut in.

“She doesn’t need a curfew, Miller,” he said, speaking to Leonard over Y/N’s shoulder. “She’s off the clock.”

“We came here together,” Y/N said to Foster by way of explanation while trying to ease the tension. But Foster smirked as he spoke to Leonard again.

“You may have dragged her here with you, but let’s let her choose when and who she leaves with, shall we?”

Y/N swallowed drily as she looked back at Leonard, hoping he remembered the reason they were here, and that he wouldn’t start a scene and blow it all. She didn’t even know how to describe Leonard’s expression now, but if looks could kill, Foster would have been dead on the spot. Fortunately, Leonard remained quietly seated.

“One hour,” he repeated lowly, holding her gaze. But Foster pulled her away then, forcing her to look forward before she had a chance to respond.

Linking her arm through Foster’s, Y/N walked with him towards the dance floor, but she could feel Leonard’s eyes drilling into her back. Shaking it off, she shifted her focus as they made it to the dance floor, and she tried to concentrate on getting something out of Foster as she rested her arm along his shoulder as he pulled her against him. Conversely, she felt nothing like she had when she was in Leonard’s arms, and she had to plaster a fake smile on her face as he brought her closer.

“Didn’t know I’d have competition tonight,” Foster said as he looked at her. “You and Miller have a little something going on?”

“What? No!” Y/N replied, trying to look sincere. “We came together, but I’m not with him or anything. If I was, why would I have called you?”

Y/N wasn’t prepared for the feeling of her own disappointment, or the feeling of betrayal towards Leonard she got when she denied there was anything between them. But she tried to shake it off as she kept her expression neutral. She remembered that Leonard was listening via the audio device nestled in her dress, and she wondered what he was thinking.

“Bringing his little secretary as his date? Pretty pathetic,” Foster said.

Y/N almost scoffed in disbelief. Not only did this guy still have no idea what she actually did, but he was also a sexist jackass. To make matters worse, he was clearly arrogant enough not to think she would be offended by referring to her as a “little secretary.” As much as Y/N wanted to knee him in the balls, she kept her expression neutral as she spoke again.

“It’s not a date. Lots of people are here with colleagues,” she said.

“He seems to think he has some claim on you,” was Foster’s reply. “Always seems that way.”

“It’s not like that,” Y/N answered him. “Leonard’s just very...protective. But it’s strictly from a place of his job being on the line. He’s my superior, so if I do something wrong, it’s Miller’s ass, not mine. But there’s nothing between us beyond that.”

Foster smirked then, her answer seeming to satisfy him as he replied.

“Well, that’s good news. It’d be a shame if something happened to that amazing ass of yours.”

Giggling with feigned amusement, Y/N smiled at him seductively as his hand slid lower down onto her bottom.

——————————————

Watching from his seat at the table, Leonard’s knuckles were white from how hard he was clenching his fist. He didn’t know what had him angrier, the fact that Foster’s hand was on Y/N’s ass, or the fact that she’d sounded so certain and convincing as she’d insisted there was nothing between him and herself. Still watching, he saw Foster whisper something in Y/N’s ear that he couldn’t make out through the earpiece, and as they both laughed and moved closer together, Leonard clenched his fist again. But he forced himself to focus on his role that evening as he rose from his chair and began to casually move around the room.

In her peripheral, Y/N saw Leonard making his way around the room as she and Foster remained on the dance floor. She wrapped her arm more tightly around Foster’s shoulder and shifted, urging them to turn so that she could see Leonard. As they moved and Foster’s back was now towards the entrance, Y/N looked over his shoulder, and she and Leonard made eye contact across the room. Her heart skipped a beat as he looked at her, but Foster suddenly shifted them again and she was turned away once more.

As Leonard continued to move, he headed towards the front of the room, and he spotted what he was looking for – the guy who’d previously been speaking with Foster. He’d returned to the ballroom and was now conversing with someone else at the bar. Leonard assessed him for a moment before casually approaching the bar and standing close enough to listen to the guy’s conversation, but with enough distance to not appear obvious as he tried to overhear what the two men were discussing. He discreetly lifted his hand to his ear, pretending to run a hand through his hair as he removed the earpiece in order to better hear their conversation.

As Foster rambled on about himself as they danced, Y/N pretended to be interested while trying to figure out how to get her hands on the piece of paper he’d been given. She glanced down and could see it inside his pocket as he moved, but her hand was still enclosed in his, and there was no way she’d be able to simply reach for it. She decided that the only way she was going to get it was if Foster took off his jacket, and she quickly came up with a plan. She just had to make sure Leonard wouldn’t interfere.

Encouraging Foster to turn once more, Y/N looked towards the front of the room as they moved and spotted Leonard at the bar. He was clearly focused on something, but she then saw someone she recognized from Langley approach him and start talking, and she seized the opportunity of him being distracted.

“I think that guy over there is waving at you,” Y/N said, nodding over Foster’s shoulder towards the front of the room. “Isn’t that one of the guys you work with on your floor?”

As Foster briefly let go of her and turned around, Y/N quickly reached into her dress and switched off the audio piece. Her eyes darted over to Leonard, and she saw that he clearly hadn’t noticed she’d turned it off, still too distracted by the person who’d approached him at the bar.

“Who?” Simon said to her as he turned back around. “I don’t see anyone I know.”

“Oh, wait...it’s not who I thought it was,” she said as he looked at her again. “My mistake.”

Foster attempted to reach for her again, but she spoke once more.

“Do you mind if we step outside for a little bit? I could use some fresh air.”

As she predicted, Foster eagerly agreed, and they began to walk off the dance floor. Quickly weaving through people, they passed the bar unnoticed by Leonard, and Y/N released a breath as they made it out into the large lobby before heading through the main doors. Once outside, they walked a little ways from the entrance, and she wrapped her arms around herself in the cold night air.

“It’s colder out here than I thought,” she said as she turned to Foster.

“So distracted by me that you forgot what season it was?” he said with a cocky grin, but he began to remove his jacket.

Bingo.

As he wrapped it around her, Y/N slipped her arms through the sleeves, dipping her hands into the pockets and feeling the piece of paper. She had to somehow hide it and get back inside before Leonard noticed she was gone. As long as she could get back before he knew she’d left, she could just blame their lost connection on the audio piece malfunctioning.

Y/N let Foster ramble on for another few minutes before she knew she was cutting it close. She soon stood up straighter, shifting back and forth on her feet to make it look like she was trying to warm herself up more.

“Sorry, it’s too cold out here,” she said as Foster looked at her. “Can we continue this conversation inside?”

“How about we get your stuff and head back to my hotel room instead?”

She looked at him, pretending to be flustered.

“Simon...”

“Come on, honey, you can’t play hard to get forever.”

She smiled.

“Tell you what,” Y/N replied. “Get me another drink and I’ll think about it.”

Foster gave her a sleazy grin.

“Done.”

“Lead the way,” Y/N said as she nodded forward.

As he turned around and began walking, Y/N quickly pulled the paper out of his pocket and slipped it into her bra. She could find an excuse to ditch him as soon as they were inside. As they walked back into the building, she just prayed Leonard was still occupied.

———————————————

Leonard couldn’t shut the guy up fast enough, and he soon reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, pretending to be getting a call and waving the guy off with a quick apology. He stepped away slightly with the phone pressed to his ear, until he saw the guy also walk away. After a moment, he resumed his place at the bar, continuing to listen to Foster’s connection. There were several names mentioned that he recognized, and others that he didn’t, and he noticed the change in the man’s tone as a final name was mentioned: Charles Benton.

These guys clearly had a dislike for the way Benton ran things, and when one of them mentioned Foster’s name as another person who was displeased with Charles, Leonard recalled the note in Foster’s file about how he’d been passed up for a promotion earlier that year, a decision which was Benton’s. He made a mental note to review the details of that again later.

He moved further away down to the end of the bar and gestured to one of the younger bartenders. Leonard spoke quietly to him after he’d approached.

“Does that guy down there in the white jacket have a tab open?” he asked him.

“Yeah,” the bartender said as he saw who Leonard was referring to.

Leonard pulled a hundred-dollar bill out of his pocket and slid it across to him.

“Tell him there’s a problem with his credit card and your manager needs to see his ID. Bring it to me once he gives it to you.”

The money being more appealing to the younger man than questioning Leonard’s motives, he eagerly nodded as he took the bill from Leonard and stepped away. Several moments later, he returned, sliding the ID to Leonard inside a cocktail napkin. Leonard quickly lifted the napkin and glanced at it.

“Gimme a pen,” he said to the bartender.

When he handed him a pen, Leonard wrote down the guy’s information on the napkin and then slipped it into his pocket. He then passed the ID back to the bartender and handed him the pen.

“Thanks,” he said.

He watched as the bartender made his way back over to the guy and returned his ID to him. Soon after, the men ended their conversation and one of them walked away from the bar. After the guy was out of sight, Leonard discreetly replaced his earpiece, but soon realized it was oddly quiet on the other end.

Turning, he looked towards the dance floor but didn’t see Y/N or Foster there. Scanning the large room, he looked to each bar station and also back to their dinner table, but still saw no sign of them. Stepping away from the bar, he began to head towards the back of the room, and the continued silence on the other end of the audio confirmed that he and Y/N had been disconnected. He still didn’t see them as he surveyed the back of the room, and Leonard concluded they weren’t there. He made his way back towards the entrance into the ballroom, thinking that perhaps they were out in the lobby.

He’d told her not to go anywhere with him, not to leave his sight. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her, but he couldn’t tolerate the possibility of her being in danger, or the idea of her getting cozy somewhere with Foster. He began to get angry as he still didn’t see her anywhere, but it was nothing compared to the fury he felt when, as he got closer to the entrance, he suddenly saw Y/N and Foster re-entering the ballroom, Y/N wearing his jacket.

They stopped for a moment as Y/N removed Foster’s jacket and gave it back to him, and as he was putting it back on, Y/N looked up and saw Leonard watching them. As their eyes met and she saw his expression, her heart stopped.

Shit.

Part 10

@nyxxie-pooh @hannibellector @febris-amatoria @fuseburner @xsweetcatastrophe @neonpurplestars89-blog @alltoowellbeneaththemangotree @devotedlyshadowytheorist @aphroditeslover11 @natalie--rushman

#leonard miller smut #leonard miller x reader #leonard miller #Leonard miller fic #cillian smut #cillian fic #cillian murphy #cillian x fem!reader #cillian murphy smut #leonard miller x female reader #18+ only

[fangirleaconmigo]

I just finished Time of Contempt for the third time and I am deep deep deep in my Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon feelings again. Now that know what’s coming and I understand her arc, I’m catching a lot more.

TW: mentions of sexual assault

Ciri’s descent, which we see a hint of at the end this book, her “corruption arc” is the story of what war, and what the associated abandonment and abuse of children, does to a society. It is a visceral story about how (as the saying goes) A child who is not embraced by the village, will burn it down to feel its warmth.

Probably the worst interview of Sapko that my eyes have had the displeasure to read was a guy who asked him basically (paraphrased) how could Ciri’s mind be so “weak” that she falls into murder and crime after everything she learned from Geralt.

And like BUDDY DID YOU NOT READ THE STORY? Wow ok.

Sapko is like…because that is real, look around you.

“Well, I suppose here my fantasy becomes very real and lifelike. What happened to Ciri happened to hundreds of teenagers, in that number some I knew.”

There is a narrative.

And when kids are all by themselves and repeatedly traumatized and threatened, they will turn where they need to for safety. Their minds and the way they process empathy and emotions will change as a result of related abuse.

And to me, that arc is very believable. And it is part of her rite of passage of ultimately choosing good and coming fully into her power, choosing the love and example of her found family (primarily Geralt and Yen but also Kaer Morhen and Dandelion). In this terrible interview (seriously someone let me interview the man I could do better) he says:

And – last not least – that’s me, the author, who has invented Ciri and her fate, who has invented the whole storyline, and the storyline required of Ciri to become a teenage killer. It was a stage in her rite de passage, the rite of passage.

It is an arc. And for me a very believable (if extremely painful one) First there is the “before”.

The story is very clear who Ciri is before she is alone without the protection of Yen and Geralt.

Her character is already established by Time of Contempt but the narrative still goes through the trouble of showing her deny the offer of destructive power.

As a little girl, (in Blood of Elves) Ciri risks herself to save Triss’s life when she and Geralt’s caravan is attacked. She doesn’t wait for someone else to help, she shields Triss with her body. (That made me feel some kinda way in retrospect let me tell ya)

In the same scene we see how tender hearted she is towards the elves plight and how she resolves not to be neutral.

Blood of Elves and Time of Contempt both show how she is just a little kid who wants parents (running away to see Geralt, writing him letters from Meliteles temple begging him to come see her, identifying fiercely as a witcher girl of Kaer Morhen, idolizing Yen)

But at the end of Time of Contempt, Ciri still makes two dramatic, narrative establishing decisions, that show what kind of person she is.

First is the refusal of power. The refusal of revenge.

In the desert, she taps into prohibited power (fire power) to save Little Horse. It begins to consume her, offering her dominion over the world. It is personified by Falka and it shows Ciri vengeance. It shows her her enemies. It shows her the people who killed her grandma and sacked Cintra. It shows her the black knight.

Ciri and vengeance is already a theme. We know she feels urges towards vengeance for the people who slaughtered her family. The only bad fight she’s had with Geralt was about that. (She says she wanted vengeance and he overreacts and has to follow her and comfort her and apologize. The narrative doesn’t let us hear what he says, it’s through Triss’s eyes, but it is heart wrenching)

And now she is being offered vengeance by showing her what it really looks like. People suffering and dying. And it’s asking hey little girl you want this? Because I can give it to you.

This power also shows her her loved ones.

At this point in the story, Ciri is alone, lost in a desert, and feels abandoned. And any kid that feels abandoned blames her parents. It makes her a very believable kid character. Im alone? Where are my parents?? They’ve abandoned me?? At least that’s what she says.

But when the power offers her the opportunity to take the hurt she is feeling and hurt them back she is horrified.

She shouts out loud that she relinquishes it. She relinquishes all the power and collapses.

She makes an incredibly important decision to refuse destructive vengeful power.

The second thing that happens to establish her character at this point in the saga is she is being pursued by people who want to kill her and/or turn her into Nilfgaard. She is running and trying to escape. She is armed and gets a clear shot at a pursuer but again, sees a human face, and can’t do it. She shows mercy because her empathy will not allow her to see a persons face and kill them.

She is very lucky to survive that encounter.

She is a good, decent, human being.

But the story doesn’t leave us there. It gives us an ominous hint of the oncoming storm.

To get out of a life threatening situation, she joins a gang called The Rats. The Rats are a group of heavily traumatized war orphans who have been abandoned, raped, and abused and have banded together to not be alone. They’ve become murderers and no longer feel empathy for those they harm, but rather they take pleasure at killing others. She sees the look in their faces and identifies it as evil.

They adopt her. They protect her. Suddenly she is ‘safe’. Suddenly she is with others like her (war orphans with heavy trauma). Suddenly she is no longer alone. She is being offered a new identity (her old identity will get her killed at this point) She is them.

They also sexually assault her. (Cycle of abuse. I had to fast forward those parts. I’m listening to the audio and I can’t do that again)

But by the end Ciri has a new family. It’s the only option to her for survival. She finally manages to kill someone and takes the name Falka.

And as the return reader, you already know just how horrific it’s gonna get before it gets better. The feelings of doom. Ooof.

There is so much coming and if you’ve already read it, the dread is real.

It takes worse torture and assault than you can possibly imagine for Ciri to become the “teenaged killer” the narrative demands.

Because above all Ciri is like Yen. She is a survivor. She is angry. She has impulses for vengeance when she is harmed. All of these things are normal and human and can be given healthy outlets in normal situations. But this is not a normal situation.

So yeah I love her so much and the feelings of doom I have going into the next book are hanging over me. Of course it makes the bloody vengeance at the end that much more satisfying. But yeah.

And just to be clear I don’t judge her at all for anything she does during this “corruption” arc. I just don’t. She is surviving and no one can make me hate her ever. I’m an irrational person when it comes to her. And the her growth, her arc is one of the most satisfying I’ve ever read.

Most of us may not be war orphans being pursued by half the world. But the parallels to being an unprotected teenaged girl in a world that wants to exploit you, chew you up, and spit you out, is something those of us who came from abusive homes can understand. It is ultimately very validating and inspiring.

So I’ll be skipping the worst parts on audio. Some of them I just can’t do again. But I’m still obsessed with this story and I love my girl.

Ok thanks for reading my Ciri feels.

#the witcher #the witcher books #cirilla fiona elen riannon #thinking about the witcher books yet again #thinking about Ciri yet again

[dessarious]

The Angel of Death Pt52

So this is going to be the last chapter of this, at least for now. I may add onto it later, or do a sequel. But this feels like a decent stopping point for the moment.

Prologue   Beginning  Previous

As the Angel of Death worked her way across the rooftops, her rage was getting worse. Just thinking of the audacity of that stupid clown was enough to make her blood boil. Cass appeared beside her as Black Bat and they continued in silence. She'd dumped all the Miraculous into her pocket before she left to make sure Chloe didn't follow herself, or even go get the others. Gina would likely follow eventually, but that was a problem for when it happened. They stopped when they had a visual of Damian dangling from a rope.

"Are you ready to let me do what needs to be done?" She waited for Cass to nod. She didn't think it would be an issue, but she was one of Batman's people, and she didn't know exactly what she'd end up doing to the freak-show on the next roof. Logic said to just kill him and be done with it, but... something was making her pause, so there was no telling what would happen when she confronted him. "Don't free the others until I've dealt with him." That got a much more hesitant nod. Whether it was worry that she couldn't handle the idiot herself, or worry over Batman's reaction was a toss up.

As she watched him strutting around the roof, calling for Batman, Marinette felt a pull to the Miraculous in her pocket. As she palmed each one in turn, the Peafowl almost felt like it was burning her. Duusu appeared in front of her with a determined look. Well, she could take a hint. The transformation didn't seem to change her outer appearance the way she'd seen with other holders. It was a question for later though. Duusu's energy was radiating through her and it seemed like the Kwami was even more pissed off at the Joker than she was. This should be interesting.

Black Bat had disappeared and Marinette assumed she was putting herself into position to protect her team. So, as she snuck up behind the Joker, she knew she could focus solely on him.

"If you wanted Batman, you should have stayed in Gotham." Watching the man jump and almost fall over as he turned to face her should have been amusing.

"Isn't it past your bedtime?" She could help but roll her eyes.

"No wonder you turned to crime. You'd never make it as a real clown with shitty jokes like that." The flash of anger in his eyes gave her more satisfaction than it should.

"You should be careful. A mouth like that is going to get you in trouble one day." Bit late with that advice.

"I guess it's a good thing the rest of me is capable of getting out of trouble then. Shame I can't say the same for you." The clown was just frowning at her now. He didn't seem to know how to react to the fact that he didn't scare her. "Batman isn't showing up. I'm going to give you one chance to pack up and go back to Gotham to aggravate him there. If you stay, the consequences will be on you."

"Are you threatening me?" He sounded somewhere between amused and insulted. Bruce was behind him trying his best to glare at her. She ignored it.

"I assure you, if I threaten you, you'll know it. Make your choice." He walked towards her with a hand outstretched to grab her.

"Listen here you little- Ahh!" The second he made contact she grabbed his hand a bent all the fingers backwards. At least three were broken.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you it's rude to touch people without their permission?" The clown was just cursing up a storm and she waited. When he finally focused on her again the rage in his eyes was actually rather impressive.

"Girly, you just made the biggest mistake of your life." She just let out a snort.

"Please, if that was a mistake, and it wasn't, it wouldn't even make the top hundred." He reached for the flower on his chest and she let him. Poor guy went from gloating to confused in a few seconds when he realized his little acid bath had no effect on her. "Are you ready to leave now, or do I need to take drastic measures? I can even help you on your way if you wish." Granted she'd just use Kaalki to put him in a cell in Arkham but he didn't need to know that. Mari could feel Duusu's anger that he might be left unpunished, and had to wonder what exactly the Kwami planned to do.

While the Joker seemed to be trying to figure out what she was, Mari took a moment to look at his strings. All but one of them were black leading to him, but gray coming from his body. So, everyone in his life hated him with a passion, but he had no care for them at all. Not overly surprising. The other string was the weird one. It led to Bruce and was black coming from the billionaire, but from Joker... it was purple. But a warped version of the familial bond. There were odd patterns in the same kind of sickly green that pulsed between her and Damian. That was... interesting.

"I guess I'll just have to start offing hostages until Batman shows up then." She couldn't help the eye roll.

"I'm not going to let you do that."

"I'd like to see you try to stop me." He turned away from her and she had to wonder at his arrogance. Before he made it two steps, she tackled and pinned him to the roof. Bruce was yelling at her, but all she could concentrate on was the insistent thrumming in her head from Duusu. The string between her and the Joker, now gray from end to end, began vibrating, and she pushed. What exactly, she wasn't sure, but it seemed the right thing to do. The clown stopped struggling for a moment and everything was deathly quiet. Then he started screaming.

Mari got up and watched as he writhed in apparent pain, as Duusu filled her in on what had happened. The Kwami seemed to get great pleasure as the man went from screams to whimpers and sobs as he curled into the fetal position. Black Bat was watching her from the shadows, and she gave the other girl a nod. The man wasn't a threat anymore.

"What did you do?" Bruce's tone caused her to let out an aggravated breath.

"I didn't kill him. Isn't that what you wanted.?" As Black Bat untied them, it seemed that only Bruce was concerned with the man's suffering. He thought it was a good idea to loom over her.

"Torture is no better."

"No, but it's exactly what you do to the citizens of Gotham by refusing to remove threats like him." She hadn't meant those words to come out, but honestly, seeing the stunned look on his face was worth it.

"That is ridiculous. I do not torture people."

"Oh? So what do you call forcing them to live in constant fear? Knowing that the next moment could bring another villain attack from people you know are dangerous but can't properly contain? Praying that the next phone call isn't to tell them a loved one died because Batman cares more about keeping murders alive than them." The man stormed off, but the rest of them were trading looks before one of them, Red hood she was pretty sure, walked up to her.

"So, what did you do exactly?" It wasn't an accusation, and he seemed to be studying the clown with interest more than anything else.

"He's being forced to go through all the emotional pain and torment he caused others. Given the sheer amount of victims he had, I doubt it will ever stop. If he's lucky, his brain will eventually shut down and he'll go into a vegetative coma. But that won't happen for at least ten years."

"Good." That was it. He just walked back over to the others. Damian was the next to approach her, but didn't seem to know what to say. He kept rubbing his chest where his string to Talia had been.

"No after effects from being stabbed?" He blinked at her for a moment.

"No. Either the blade wasn't poisoned or whatever healed me got rid of it as well. I'd bet on the second." She nodded. "Do you truly believe killing is necessary?" Not the question she expected.

"You don't?" He hesitated.

"In the League, it was expected. With Batman it is strictly forbidden. While I believe my father's way of living is better overall, I am uncertain about the nuances." She still didn't know how to react to him when he admitted things like that. It was so strange compared to how he'd always acted when she was trapped in the League.

"I suppose it depends on the outcome you want. For my purpose it is necessary. For Gotham to regain balance and heal, I would say it is necessary. I do not know what your father's intentions are, so I can not say if they are necessary to achieve them."

"But you didn't kill him." His confusion was clear as he glanced at the Joker, still whimpering on the roof.

"I'm learning that death is an easy way out. Far too easy for some. Talia's death was necessary to rid everyone connected to her of the corruption she caused. Had she remained alive, even if she was neutralized, that corruption would have remained and possibly taken on a life of its own. The Joker, while insidious in his own way, does not have that effect on others. He will remain in the hell he created until he does die. It seems fitting, does it not?"

"The corruption you speak of, is that why I feel..." He didn't seem to know what he wanted to say. "Free?"

"Most likely, yes." He continued to rub his chest for a few minutes before he spoke again.

"I regret that you suffered because of me." The words were soft, almost like he didn't mean to say them out loud.

"You are not the one that decided my fate. If I have learned nothing else from this experience, I've learned that I was always destined to suffer. For all I know, it is actually my fault you were born into the league in the first place. But placing blame is a rather useless endeavor."

"Will you remain in Paris?" She frowned at him, but he was looking away from her. Was he trying to get information for his father?

"It is unlikely. I need to travel to serve my purpose." He hummed and fiddled with something in his jacket.

"I have something I wish to return to you." Mari's face scrunched up in confusion. When she caught sight of what he pulled out of his jacket, she stopped breathing. Her hands were trembling as she reached for the little photo album he held out to her.

"Maman carried this everywhere. She hated showing people pictures on a phone for some reason. I can't believe you have this." She couldn't bring herself to open it. The thought of looking at those pictures made her chest ache, knowing she'd never experience anything like it again.

"It fell out of her purse when... It never seemed right to get rid of it." He sounded embarrassed and wouldn't look at her. Before she realized what she was doing, her arms were around his neck.

"Thank you." She let go and stepped back quickly. Both because of her aversion to touch and because she was fairly certain he had the same issue. "I should leave before your father comes back." He nodded, still refusing to look at her. Before she left the roof, she noticed that the string between them had stopped pulsing and was starting to turn from gray, to a pale green. She supposed she could be okay with that.

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[mejomonster]

Just watched till the end of the moon ep 9:

I'm so down bad for these 2

I cannot stress enough that skipping them to marriage so no stupid "innocence" or naivety stuff as is the usual situation is here

I cannot stress enough how much I LOVE that li susu seems adult, mature, seasoned in battle love etc, and just generally like a late 20s early 30s adult trying to save the world instead of a young adult Hero and how nice it is. Just for me, I'm happy for the variety

I LOVE tantai jin. He's a fucked up guy. He's the wet skinny pathetic man fangirls always say they want. He's genuinely a pretty cold bitch AND he gets to be lead (in a cdrama!). He is monstrous cause bitches have treated him monstrous so like susu said! He responded to a cruel world with cruelty back. It's not a lead I'm used to but I AM loving it. I also love how for him a kind gesture really is worth it's weight in gold like? For him. As awful as ye xiwu was in marriage pre susu, as much as susu literally said she wants to kill him more than anyone else in the world... she keeps saving him. Giving him food. Risking HER life for his. And for him those specific actions are worth more than anything anyone's ever given him. Maybe even more than what Lan gave him, since at least ye xiwu is upfront about wanting to imprison him and being mad at him so like she probably isn't going to "secretly" betray him since she's fairly honest (now). I love that he is JUST a fucked up guy with a fucked up destiny meant to be devil God, who the universe was probably intentionally shitty to cause its hoping (on like a cosmic scale) he will Suffer and Die and become devil God in revenge. I love that its not trying to make the bitch noble. He is who he is. For whatever that means, it's just a story about 2 people who'd never have met. But susu has changed the trajectory just by being herself around him and it's COMPELLING.

The transformative power of love (or simply being kind to another person) and all that. How the cursed jade said she's mostly just SO SURPRISED someone would help another person. I feel like that's probably the Theme of the show right there. Even susu is probably surprised by herself helping him. And in the jade transfer moment, I think she's surprised she genuinely does NOT think he only is comprised of bad traits. For all the cold bitch that he is, betraying her that he's done, cruel view he has of the world... actions speak louder than words to susu too. And for all the bad he's done... he has also done some good things. And she finds herself seeing him in shades of grey instead of a monster like she expected to.

I just love their bickering lets be real. Susu just SAYS shit on the top of her mind (to be fair tantai jin is a bitch and deserves to be bitched at). But she's like "from now on let's have NO CONNECTION" to 6 hours later being like "your life is in my hands and I say when you can die I'm imprisoning you forever ill see you nonstop bitch." And it's like... susu honey, that was LITERALLY tantai jins plan to do to you like 6 hours ago. Yall have the same plan. Just who's the prisoner is switched lmao. No wonder he's oddly attracted to you. You see him being a big manipulative bitch and like you're not stealthy, but you ARE like "WELL FINE ill say some SHIT and BREAK YOUR HEART then. Cry me a river! Oh you thought I was dead? You cried? GOOD. Now anyway fight is over as long as I'm winning!"

Their emotional fights are both ridiculously huge (like rumor of the Kingdoms wild) but also so shallow cause these bitches will be like "I DECIDE when you DIE" then you find them clutching each other in the woods BOTH unwilling to abandon the other and BOTH taking life threatening damage trying to protect the other and BOTH trying to then heal said damage of each others! Like. That's just so fucking funny??!! And fun. Xiao Lin is going to be like "what in the world??" But move on

Anyway speaking of Xiao Lin: I love how he genuinely seems to care for tantai jin! Probably only person in the world who does! I hope one day tantai jin finds out its genuine heartfelt care for him. Buy knowing tantai jins life... he's going to do some awful shit to Xiao lin that ruins his life or kills his wife or kills thousands of innocents in front of him, THEN Xiao lin will be breaking down crying how he never thought tantai jin would do this and he thought tantai jin was a good person who wanted to avoid seeing the ppl in harm and he always wished tantai jin could have a better life. And then tantai jin, probably newly learning compassion from enough bullshit attempts with susu, that his own heart will be breaking BECAUSE of the consequences of his own actions. So. Thrilled to cry later I guess

Speaking of susu and tantai jin. tantai jin LAYING ON HER SHOULDER THINKING ABOUT WHAT SHE BULLSHITTINGLY SAID LOVE WAS AND HOW HE THINKS SHE LOVES HIM AND HOW HE THINKS HE MIGHT LOVE HER AND CUDDLING

that is what watchers want!! (At least me!!) Men lying heads on their lovers shoulders and thinking dreamy about them

Bai Lu gives off such bisexual lead energy tho even without a woman to flirt with I'm sure thats part of the appeal for me. Bottom line is I like in my b/g romances on occasion (who am I kidding more of the time than not) to have a dominant kind of woman. And bai lu delivers. Her man leans on HER shoulder. Is carried around her shoulder with HER arms.

Speaking of, people who cast this were 1. Fulfilling so many wishes letting Luo yunxi just play PURE FUCKED UP and I love it. 2. By casting him as this suffering Weak physically nearly always dying willfully little skinny twink of a man, who's also God tier powerful especially with rage, who's costume entails constant bloody whump, collars, choking and ropes, like. There's a HELLA SPECIFIC NICHE Luo yunxis character resides inside this show and it sure is feeding That Demographic. I'm up for it. It's like if mo ran and chu wanning had a fucked up mashup

I'm fearing the jade maker witch was somehow susu in a past life and now I'm wondering if time travel is gonna be in this bitch

If there IS time travel? I really like the idea of tantai jin specifically time traveling the 2nd time around, once he and susu fell in love, once he knows what susu knew from the beginning. I think that could open a lot of new avenues that he is not currently able to go into given his current personality and knowledge

It's still funny as hell to me tantai jin is kind of angling for death cause he KNOWS he gets super-powered once he dies. But his wife keeps being like NO BITCH YOU GOTTA LIVE WELL. And I'm hoping eventually he's like: maybe she's right... maybe the revenge means more if I'm alive for it and not dissassociated. Maybe I SHOULD try to become a God tier monster without dying. Which would still lead to oh no devil tantai jin lol, but a version of it that is fully Himself which I would like

You know I'm liking a show when I'm contemplating binging beyond what's on youtube rn

#tteotm #till the end of the moon #lb #anyway the main couple GOT ME their scenes are SO enjoyable to watch #i loved every second

[checkoutmybookshelf]

Emily and Wendell Have No Chill...On Opposite Ends of the Chill Spectrum

Ok, the more you put faerie and academia up next to each other, the more I see similarities between the two that both the academics and the fae would probably be extremely pissy about, from the strict hierarchical structures to the arbitrary rules and the extreme danger of falling in love with them. And yet I'm also EXTREMELY here for it. So let's talk Emily Wilde's Map of the Otherlands.

THERE ARE SPOILERS BELOW THE BREAK. BE WARNED.

Emily and Wendell are on the same page about when it is appropriate to go absolutely feral, but they would NOT agree with that. Emily can shake off the otherlands, random faerie assassins, and absolutely godawful living conditions during fieldwork but cannot handle other humans. Wendell can shake off *actively dying from faerie poison* and entirely too credible accusations of academic misconduct, but literally cannot handle a lack of coffee.

So naturally Wendell is panicking every time Emily gets too near the otherlands without him and Emily is absolutely losing it every time Wendell ignores common sense and uses his magic which exacerbates the effects of the poison. Literally these two are falling over each other to try to protect each other. It's wonderful--I wouldn't change a thing.

I also want to just double down on academics being JUST as terrifying as fae, because in the first book Emily didn't HESITATE before chopping a finger off to break an enchantment and in this one she didn't think twice before dropping the same poison that is killing Wendell into his stepmother's cup. This woman is absolutely terrifying in her determination and her ability to do the thing she has decided is absolutely necessary. Like, Emily Wilde is a terrifying force of nature and a damn fine scholar and the level of personal and professional jealousy I feel over this fictional character knows no bounds.

So beyond Emily and Wendell being just AGGRESSIVELY in love with each other in the most academic way possible, this book is fun because we get some resolution to the mystery of Danielle De Gray's disappearance, which was heavily referenced in the footnotes of the last book, and is one of the great dryadologist mysteries. I absolutely adore the fact that Emily is so determined to find out what actually happened to this academic in whom she sees herself. It makes her success so much greater and it makes the "don't meet your heroes" disappointment so much funnier when the real Dani catastrophically crashes into the De Gray that Emily had constructed in her head. It's funny and heartbreaking and honestly the fact that Dani then sort of...adopts Emily as a researcher in her own vein is awesome. Academic respect and mentorship is...a weirdass combination of doing it yourself with imagined mentor figures and deeply flawed people who just wanted to learn everything about something niche and specific and are really cranky about being saddled with students.

Which brings me nicely to Farris Rose. Rose is...a stodgy old white man academic in every sense, and he starts by threatening to have both Emily and Wendell fired for academic misconduct and fabricating research. He ends up with one ear on backwards and offering to mentor Emily in her academic career. He is also like...the absolute chaotic evil scholar, because he is VERY cool about ethical lapses if they get him on the expedition of the century. And he is also VERY comfortable lecturing Emily on her personal life. Even after she is pretty clear that his commentary is not terribly welcome.

The number of academic friendships that begin in open conflict is astounding, and honestly the "bitter enemy on the basis of their scholarship to grudging allies to actual friends" pipeline is VERY fun to watch. It's a special hell to live, but watching it is delightful.

Emily also grudgingly gets a student in this book! And after all the crap she gave Wendell about how he treats his grad students in the last book, she could possibly have been less brusque and less ornery with her dang niece!!! Ariadne is literally a ray of sunshine though, and she and Wendell get along like a house on fire to the point where he makes her a scarf for protection in the field. She and Emily uh...have a bit of a journey in terms of getting on, because Emily prefers to be on her own, and she like...intellectually loves her niece, but it takes some time for her to respect Ariadne as a baby researcher who is enthusiastic and learning. Their journey to understanding each other is really sweet, and I enjoyed it. I also love that Uncle Wendell was Uncle Wendell for Ariadne long before Aunt Emily actually accepted his proposal. That was just adorable.

I also really appreciate the cliffhanger that this book left us on. Emily and Wendell are going back to the Silva Lupi, but they literally do not know what they'll find. The assumption is that Wendell's stepmother is dead, but like...we don't KNOW that, and I wouldn't be surprised if she found some crafty and utterly hellscape-y way to avoid a terrible death by faerie poison. Especially since Wendell himself has hammered home the "there are no absolutes in faerie stories" message. So I might actually die waiting for book 3, but when it comes out, I will 1000% be there to read it.

#emily wilde's map of the otherlands #emily wilde #wendell bambleby #faeries #adult fantasy #cozy romance #books and reading #books #books and novels #books & libraries #book recommendations

[krikeymate]

For @bossnhug91, who requested some Core 4 + Kirby. Found here.

“Why don’t you take your words and shove them up your-”

“WOAH, Tara no!” Sam yells, grabbing her sister by the shoulders and pulling her back frantically from the now sopping-wet man she was yelling at.

“I’m so sorry about our friend here, she’s a little drunk,” Chad blurts out, hands raised placatingly. “We don’t want any trouble,” he says with a nervous laugh. Chad knows he’s pretty big and strong, but not as much as this guy… and his friends. 

Maybe taking Tara drinking for her 21st was a bad idea. Ya think, dingus! the Mindy in his head chimes in. He’s a little glad she’s not here yet, lord knows his sister doesn’t know how to stay out of trouble… and neither do the other sisters in his life, apparently.

Chad backs away, squeezing himself through some other patrons - sorry, coming through - and turns to find the girls, who have… disappeared. And left him alone, again. Why does this keep happening to him?

Sam drags her sister to the bathroom, elbowing drunk white girls out of the way without remorse. She all but shoves her face into the sink with the intention to splash water on her face and sober her up a bit.

Tara doesn’t get the message and yanks herself away, tripping as she turns and throwing herself to the floor along the way.

“Tara,” Sam sighs wearily. Maybe those last shots were a mistake. Maybe letting her drink in the first place was a mistake, but it’s what Tara had wanted, and if she’s learnt anything over the past 14.5 months since she’s come back into her life, Tara’s going to do what Tara wants to do. She was the same as a child, although she wasn’t anywhere near as stubborn, back when Sam used to hang the moon and Tara blindly worshipped every word she said.

The real mistake was letting Mindy talk them into going out to celebrate, instead of staying home. And Mindy isn’t even here to deal with the consequences of her terrible decision. Where is she anyway?

Sam’s head snaps down as Tara groans on the floor. It’s the type of groan that happens moments before disaster; it has Sam grabbing her sister under the arms and heaving her off the floor and into a toilet stall in a flash.

And just in time.

It’s times like these that Sam doesn’t miss drinking. It’s also times like these where she kind of wishes she was.

She pats her sister on the back with one hand, and draws her hair away from her face with the other. She wishes Tara wouldn’t do this to herself, but she’ll admit, only to herself, that she’s so grateful that she’s been given the opportunity to do this for her. To be the type of sister that Tara can trust to keep her safe, that she can rely on. That she’s a good enough sister that Tara feels the need to defend her honour when some douchebags at the pool table start loudly talking about the psycho girl drinking soda at the bar.

She’s definitely mad that Tara’s drunk enough to pick a fight with a guy three times her size and with a gang behind him though. Then again, maybe Tara doesn’t need to be drunk to do that actually. Her sister does like to fight, she’s noticed. It used to be just Sam. Now it seems to be everyone but Sam.

Maybe she should leave a message for Tara’s therapist.

“Why’d yuh’stop me,” Tara mumbles from the porcelain. “I coulda had’im.”

The words make Sam snort. Her sister has always known how to make her laugh. “Sure you could have, baby. He’d have been real threatened by you throwing up on his shoes.”

“He’d deserve it,” she mumbles, leaning back. “Nobody talks ‘bout you like that.”

Sam helps her up off the floor, keeping hold of her arms to steady her. “I’d kill anyone who says anything ‘bout you,” Tara continues.

The words make Sam wince. “That’s a little overkill for some gossip, don’t you think?” she murmurs, leading her back out into the bar area to find Chad. It’s time to call it a night, she thinks. “We can’t control what people think or say about us, but we can control how we react to them,” she recites to her sister. It’s a mantra her own therapist has her repeating whenever something like this happens.

Her eyes catch Chad’s from across the room as Tara mumbles something about Mindy, and Kirby, and how they should be here to join in the fun, and then there’s an unfortunately recognisable form standing in front of her.

“Hey, YOU!” the wet man calls out, blocking their way. “That little bitch owes me and the lads some new beers,” he growls, posturing. It’s fairly effective, Sam’s actually intimidated, all too aware of Tara hanging off her arm and barely able to stand on her own.

“We’ll buy you a new round,” she says, smiling civilly. She doesn’t want a scene, well - another one, not right now. Why had Tara felt the need to flip the tray out of his hands? Why had she felt the need to confront him in the first place? Well, what are big sister’s for, if not fixing the problems their little sister’s make.

Of course, when has anything ever gone her way?

He should have said “great, that’s all I wanted, lead the way.” Instead what he actually says is “Or maybe she can make it up to me another way,” with a lewd grin on his face and a finger poking her in the shoulder. And what was Sam to do, take that lying down? 

Chad had thankfully made his way back over - why had he left in the first place, wasn’t he right behind them before? - just in time for her to shove Tara into his arms and take a swing at the bastard who thinks he can say whatever he likes about her sister.

It gets a little chaotic after that.

She thinks she remembers Chad taking an elbow to the face. Tara was on someone’s back. Sam’s pretty sure she took a bottle to the head, if the way it thumps with every heartbeat is any indication.

Being held face down against a pool table with her arms pulled harshly behind her and her wrists tightly bound in handcuffs isn’t a new experience for Sam, but having her sister beside her in the same position, hurling expletives at the police officers holding them down, certainly is.

“Hey! Be careful, she’s injured, jackass,” Sam spits. 

“Quiet you,” the officer snaps, lifting her up before slamming her back down.

It makes Sam’s head spin. She can hear Chad in the background, protesting. Then she hears the voice of an angel say “is this how you treat all woman who try to defend themselves, Officer Sawyer?”

Kirby “please stop getting into trouble Sam, you’re making my life very hard” Reed is here to save the day once again. Hopefully. Probably. Definitely. Sam’s working on having faith in people.

Sam meets her sister’s eyes across the table while Kirby argues with the officer holding her down. The grin Tara shoots her should not be as endearing as it is, given the circumstances.

Before long, they’re being begrudgingly released into Kirby’s custody and ushered out of the bar. Sam can’t resist looking back, and finds Officer Sawyer glaring at her with his arms crossed. Oh good, another enemy to watch out for.

She gets distracted by Chad’s arm wrapping around her shoulder and the cheery “well that was fun,” he chirps out.

Kirby spins in an instant and gets in their faces, well, as much as she’s able given how short she is. She’s about as intimidating as Tara. “It was not fun. You started a bar fight! You got injured! What is wrong with you people? Can’t you stay out of trouble for five minutes?!”

Tara giggles into Sam’s side, swinging their hands together. “You said five,” she mumbles.

The words throw Kirby for a loop and her anger quickly fades into bafflement and concern. “Is she okay? Did she hit her head?”

“She’s just drunk,” Sam explains, wrapping her arms around her sister. The girl squeezes her back, humming into her chest.

Kirby frowns up at her. “Should she really be drinking?”

Sam’s saved from another opportunity to start a fight by Mindy’s arrival. 

“Oh man,” she huffs, out of breathe and bending down to rest her hands on her knees. “I’m so sorry I’m late, there was this dumb fire drill at the dorms and we couldn’t leave and woah, what… happened here.”

“Bar fight. Tara’s fault,” Chad replies.

“It was not Tara’s fault,” Sam barks, glaring at him.

Chad grins back at her, “it definitely was.”

Mindy pouts. “Awh man, I can’t believe I missed it.”

Kirby rolls her eyes. “We’re leaving, all of you, come on.”

#/mp #Scream #Sam Carpenter #Tara Carpenter #Chad Meeks-Martin #Kirby Reed #my writing tag #this didn't quite turn out how you asked for but I couldn't resist the opportunity to have Mindy miss out on all the action again #it turned out way more sister-centric than I intended. but what else can you expect from me of all people I suppose.

[coraniaid]

If Buffy's first Watcher when she'd arrived in Sunnydale had been played by a middle-aged woman but otherwise said and done everything that Rupert Giles did in canon she would be the most hated character on the show by a long way.

Think of all the crimes she'd be accused of. Repeatedly trying to micromanage Buffy's life (not just giving her orders as a Slayer but trying to decide who she could spend time with outside class and who she could date? how controlling. how abusive), talking down to her and second-guessing her decisions, hiding important information from her (when not too clueless to know anything about it herself, which she would be repeatedly), forcing her to fight vampires every night and not even offering to do something simple like complete Buffy's homework on her behalf, constantly lying to her, cheerfully pocketing a salary from the Council and keeping it for herself, never showing Buffy the emotional support Buffy so desperately craved from her and actively recoiling whenever Buffy suggested she was a parental figure, working with Buffy's enemies (on multiple occasions! and being trivially forgiven for it off-screen!), sulking and refusing to help whenever she felt she wasn't being given enough respect, threatening to run back to England on a regular basis, hoarding dangerous magical books in her shop where Buffy's sister and anybody else could easily find them, drugging Buffy and robbing her of her powers while knowing Buffy was about to be forced to fight a dangerous vampire, murdering people Buffy had actively chosen to spare, being responsible for Buffy's death twice and being too self-absorbed afterwards to stay and look after Buffy's grieving teenage sister.

Large parts of the fandom would, I'm sure, be utterly convinced that she was the only reason Buffy left town at the end of Season 2. I mean, of course she was to blame; didn't she spend months insisting Buffy couldn't tell anyone about being a Slayer? and all keeping that secret managed to do was cause Buffy problems; it didn't keep anyone safe at all. No wonder Buffy was upset. So you see, it wasn't anything to do with Angel or the pressure of having to save the world by sending her first real boyfriend to hell that meant Buffy left: no, it was all Buffy's Watcher's fault. And then she has the audacity to chase after Buffy and try to force her back to Sunnydale, when it's clear that Buffy left for a reason and doesn't want to be found? What a monster.

I'm kidding, of course.

If Buffy's first Watcher had been played by a middle-aged woman the writers would have killed her off before the first season was over and replaced her with a man.

(Most of the fandom would still passionately hate her though, I'm not wrong about that.)

#btvs #there may be some subtext here

[kandisheek]

You asked for prompts, so maybe awkward fem!Bucky getting flustered and pines over very self-confident and amazing fem!Tony? 👀

Fuck yes, I love fem!Winteriron! Here we go.

---

Steve had expected many things when he’d brought Becky into the tower. Mistrust, tension and fear being chief among them.

What he hadn’t expected was to bear witness to Jane Rebecca Barnes, former maneater and ladykiller, becoming a nervous, insecure wreck. And not because of the brainwashing either.

“Would you quit fidgeting?” Steve asked, and Becky turned around to give him a glare that had probably sent many a man running for his life.

“I’m not!” She started pacing again, looking exactly like the nervous Nelly she’d always told him he was. “What time is it?”

Steve glanced at his watch. “Why?”

“Just –” Becky huffed. “What time?”

“You going somewhere?”

“No, I’m –” She whipped around at the sound of the elevator opening to reveal Toni Stark, dressed in a burgundy pantsuit.

“– gotta give me more than that if they want to –” she paused, pulling her phone away from her ear. “Did I miss lunch?”

“No, you’re right on time,” Becky said, and Steve raised an eyebrow at the way her hands were fidgeting where she’d clasped them behind her back, out of Toni’s view. “I just –”

“Great. Grab your shit, we’re going out.” Toni’s eyes fell on Steve. “You coming too?”

“He’s busy,” Becky blurted before Steve could say anything. She gave him a half-threatening, half-desperate glare that Steve had to make a real effort not to laugh at. He schooled his features and cleared his throat.

“Actually, I –”

“Yep, we should leave. Right now,” Becky said, drawing a finger across her throat as soon as Toni’s back was turned. Steve stuck his tongue out at her, and Becky’s frown deepened as she grabbed her jacket and flung it over her shoulders. Toni pouted as soon as she saw it.

“Hey, where’s your new coat?”

“Um.” Becky froze, looking like a deer in the headlights. “It’s… upstairs?”

“Did you not like it?” Toni asked, and Becky’s shoulders rose, a horrified look crossing her face.

“Did… Did you leave that in my room?”

“Who else?” Toni huffed, propping her hands up on her waist. “You won’t take my card to go shopping, so I did it for you.”

“I didn’t know you bought it for me,” Becky said, her voice a little too high-pitched, and Toni sighed.

“Is that a problem? Because I can knock it off if it bothers you. It’s just –” Toni made a frustrated noise, gesturing up and down Becky’s body. “Fuck, look at you! You’re a fucking bombshell, and all you wear are the same three black shirts!” Toni folded her hands, giving Becky the sort of puppy eyes she must’ve perfected when she was really small. “Please let me buy you some clothes? I promise they’ll match your style.”

“I –” Becky looked at Steve like she was begging for help, but Steve just shrugged. He’d gone through the exact same thing when he’d moved into the tower. Sometimes it was easier to just let Toni have her way.

“Come on, Jane,” Toni whined, hooking her arm through Becky’s and pressing in close. “You’re killing me here! Please, just one shopping trip, I promise I’ll leave you alone after.”

Steve pressed a hand over his mouth to stop himself from laughing at the look on Becky’s face, the stiff way she held herself as Toni touched her. Holy shit, was she blushing?

“Okay, Toni,” she mumbled, and Toni whooped, dragging Becky into the elevator. Becky stumbled after her, uncoordinated and clumsy in a way Steve had never seen her. Steve wished he had a camera to capture the moment, if only so he could send it to Becky later.

Becky Barnes crushing on the richest woman in America? Oh, he would never let her live this down.

Steve watched them as the elevator doors closed and was surprised when Toni’s face slipped from her usual confident smile into something a lot more real. Something Steve would almost call fond, right up until Toni smirked, her eyes trailing down Becky’s body in a way that was hard to misinterpret.

Becky didn’t notice, fiddling with the hem of her sleeve, but Steve caught Toni’s eye across the room and raised an eyebrow at her. Toni stared right back at him, unashamed, and Steve let his eyes flick over to Becky before he frowned, making his position known without words. Toni gave him a tiny nod, stepping a little closer to Becky, and Steve smiled, reassured.

Poor Becky had no idea what she’d gotten herself into. And Steve would enjoy every minute of the show.

#marvel #fanfic #fanfic asks #snippet #winteriron fic #winteriron #buckytony #genderbend

[quitealotofsodapop]

Mei will still end up spending a good chunk of time being fostered by the Qi's, of course. Not because the Ao Long's don't want her but more so to keep her safe and sound while they deal with the backlash of their disownment and they to pick up the pieces of their lives again. I mean, theyndont even have a house anymore! Ao Yi knows Wukong would keep her daughter safe, he'd done much the same for her throughout her own life even if she hadn't actually realized it until she met the man in person, and few could ever truly threaten the Monkey King even in his weakened state.

referencing changes to the Ao-Long's in the TMKATI au.

Yes yes yes

In the years he had been "sleeping" in the modern world, Sun Wukong acted as a guardian angel for any member of Ao Lie's family - a means to try repaying a debt owed to an old friend.

Ao Yi may not have recognised the little orange cardinal that helped her home when she wandered too far from the palace one spring day. Or the wolf that scared off a street dog that threatened to bite her. Or the sad-sounding cricket that appeared at the deathbed of her father as he entered the next world, the elder dragon's inner fire killing him from within as the Forth Ring left it's host for a new one.

But the dragon princess knew she recognised something within the awkward noodle shop worker who fumbled over her (pregnancy-induced craving) order as the dragon couple sat patiently (well Yi was sitting patiently, Cháo discovered an old arcade cabinet outside he really really wanted to try). Not that he was a monkey demon, no, but there was something deep within Yi's soul that told her that this demon was an old friend. Not just to herself, but to her family as a whole.

As a tactical move, she continues visiting the shop even after the cravings for noodle broth had ebbed. She slyly extracts information about the monkey demon from himself, the owner, and the bespectacled scholar; that he struggles with Simplified Chinese, that he's known the city for a while but it's his first time living there, that his mate is pregnant and it's their first child (a fact that the couples celebrate as delightful timing), and the fact that he too recognises Ao Yi - perhaps better than she to him.

The real show of trust however, was when Ao Yi unexpectedly laid her egg far too early; she had finally managed to speak to the mysterious "Qi Mihou" in the waiting room of the high-end (the one thing Qi Wu was willing to overspend on) obstetrics waiting area as she felt a terrible burning pain shoot through her body.

Dr Zhao delivered grave news once the egg had entered the world; The pup's shell was refusing to harden even after it had been whisked away to an incubator, and the pulse detected within was very weak - a sadly very common late-stage complication caused by a mineral deficiency or an infection. It would be considered in critical condition until they could safety extract the pup from within

The sight of their lumpy, rubbery egg sitting inside an incubator they could barely reach into; sent both Ao-Longs into tears neither had dared to shed in a long time. This had not been their first try for a child, but this had been the first time it had developed far enough for a name.

Qi Mihou visited Ao Yi as she recovered in the maternity ward, the macaque demon feeling a cautious kinship with the fellow expectant mother. Qi Wu helped to distract Cháo as the male dragon struggled to keep on top of both his work and his emotions.

The Ao-Longs and the nursing staff were prepared to consider the dragons' egg a tragic loss until...

(in the maternity ward; the egg's incubator has been pulled up next to Ao Yi's bed for comfort/instincts. Mihou and Yi are watching a soap opera though the dragon isn't paying much attention to it.) Mihou, ears twitching: "Hmm?" Ao Yi, in bed: "What is it?" Mihou, silent: *head turns towards the incubator* "Oh!" Ao Yi, panicking: "What, what is it? Is there something wrong?" Mihou: "No, far from it actually. But we should get a doctor with one of those microphone-thingys."

The attending doctor was skeptical, but allowed Ao Yi to place the bell of the stethoscope to the egg's far-too-soft shell to listen.

From deep within the egg came a furious and healthy; "PEW! PEW!"

It had been the second time Ao Yi had allowed herself to cry in public. Her husband did a far more inelegant wail of joy when he managed to hear it for himself.

"Ao-Long Xiaojiao", as the pup was named, managed to rip open the rubbery shell of their egg that very afternoon - trying to crawl even as their limbs splayed out beneath them like a newborn horse foal. Qi Wu burst out a choked laugh at the sight, likely because he knew the story of the Western family's most infamous member.

And for the Qi couple's kindness and loyalty to them in their darkest moments, the Ao-Long's granted them the title of Godparents, even though giving such a role to a non-royal was seen as very uncommon among their circle.

But when a great evil came into their lives, the Ao-Longs knew that they had chosen well...

The strength that had lifted them from the rubble, and the shadows that whisked them away from the flames were evidence enough.

The fact that Ao Yi was correct in her suspiscions that Sun Wukong and the Six Eared Macaque had been living alongside the mortal realm was besides the point. All that mattered was that the monkey couple was There for the dragons when they needed them.

The secret identities oddly enough, allowed the Ao-Longs to keep custody of their pup after they had lost everything. Very few lawyers are as good as Fire Star and Water Star when navigating dragon family law.

#the monkey king and the infant #the monkey king and the infant au #lmk mei #long xiaojiao #lmk mei's parents #sun wukong #liu er mihou #six eared macaque #long post