#but damn if im not getting good at ARTHUR

[a-pallid-mask]

me, at any given moment, under my breath: *john voice* arthur. arthur. ARthur. arthur. ARTHUR.

[ursaspecter]

big boah...

[voppyit]

I have a theory on why Harrow stopped being Khonshu’s avatar

So I’m actually a very big Khonshu apologist, I think that he’s an asshole who needs to treat his avatars better but a lot about him can be explained by the fact that he was banished by the gods for trying to do the right thing, and has seemingly had no contact with any of them since his banishment (which is implied to have been a very long time ago).

But even with that in mind, why would a god so focused and dedicated on punishing evildoers cause someone like Harrow to turn so bad, or manipulate a dying Marc into his service?

Well, for the second point, I believe it’s because Khonshu’s sense of justice extends to the avatars he chooses, which is shown when he condemns Ammit for choosing Harrow. He wants an avatar who is fundamentally a good person. But good people aren’t willing killers, even if the people they kill have done more than enough to deserve it. If Marc knew what Khonshu’s service would truly entail, he would have chosen to die then and there. And like he said, even while being Khonshu’s avatar, he kept wishing one of his targets would kill him instead.

So the manipulation is necessary, at least from Khonshu’s perspective. Eliminating the evildoers that threaten the innocent is not something that a truly good person would be okay with, meaning that Khonshu has to be manipulative in order to have any avatar at all. It’s a very “ends justify the means” way of thinking, and while I don’t agree with it at all and think Marc deserved much better, I also understand Khonshu’s perspective here.

It also could explain why Harrow stopped being Khonshu’s avatar. He makes a comment about how he ended up enjoying killing on Khonshu’s behalf, which is contradictory to what Khonshu believes in. I think it’s likely that he felt a shift in Harrow, one that would leave his scales unbalanced, and that Khonshu was the one who chose to no longer have Harrow as his avatar.

Marc’s torment under Khonshu’s service is because of the lives he took for Khonshu. But if Harrow enjoyed it, what part of being Khonshu’s avatar did Harrow hate? Khonshu’s insistence on being an asshole? No, I think it’s far more likely that Khonshu left Harrow, and Harrow feels bitter about it, twisting the story in a way to use it to his advantage, like during the trial with the Ennead.

This also adds to the list of reasons why Jake isn’t evil: maybe he’s more willing to kill than Marc, but from what we have seen so far it seems to be in self-defense (justifiable) or on Khonshu’s behalf to bring justice to evildoers (Harrow/Ammit) to protect the world as a whole. Yeah maybe he got some satisfaction from killing Harrow, but that was completely deserved and I don’t think it says anything about whether or not he enjoys killing as a whole.

[castelled-away]

The scene in „The Hunter’s Heart“ where Arthur unknowingly hunts Gwen (while she’s a deer) gives me Disney’s Swan Lake-vibes bc the prince (Derek) also hunts Odette in her swan-form while also not knowing that it is her

[pebblezone]

who’s up making sound effects ☝️☝️☝️

[the-offside-rule]

Charles Leclerc (Scuderia Ferrari) - Mon Ange

Requested: yes

Prompt: literally just Charles becoming a girl dad

Warnings: dad!Charles

Charles anxiously paced the hospital corridor, his mind filled with the rhythmic roar of the engines he'd left behind at the race track. The sweet anticipation of becoming a father clashed with the lingering scent of gasoline that clung to him. "Charles, sit down. It's fine." Lorenzo said. "Mama is in with her, she'll be fine." Arthur chimed in. "I know but I can't help but be nervous." Charles mumbled. "What if I'm not good at this?" I'm always away racing. I don't want my daughter to always have to change where she is growing ip just to come and see me race. I could never-" The door opened and out walked Pascale with a beaming smile on her face. Charles stepped forward to his mother with his two brothers pouncing off their seats in anticipation. "Is she alright? Y/n I mean. Maybe my baby too. Are they alright?" Charles asked frantically. "She's fine. Y/n just didn't know if you were back from the race yet." Pascale assured him. "She hasn't had the baby yet. She's waiting for you." Charles moved past his mother and raced to Y/n's side.

Y/n's head had fallen back in exhaustion. She was far too tired to do this and she would be damned if she would do this without her daughter's dad. She flinched as she felt a familiar set of hands grab hers by her bedside. She turned to see Charles kissing her skin. "You're doing great, Mon cœur." he reassured, holding her hand tightly. "Oh thank God you're back." Y/n nearly sobbed. "They wanted me to have her without you." He smiled gently. "It's alright. I'm back now. Let's just breath. Remember how your nurse told you?" Y/n smiled through the pain, and breathed with her boyfriend. "Thank you, Charles. I'm so glad you're here with me." He chuckled. "I wouldn't miss it for the world." Leaning in, he whispered. "Our little princess is on the way."

As the contractions intensified, Y/n gripped Charles' hand tightly. "This is intense." she gasped. Charles nodded, "I can only imagine. But we're in this together." He reached for her forehead, wiping away beads of sweat. "You're incredible, love." Charles laughed weakly. "Easy for you to say." She groaned.

The midwife smiled as she looked up to the couple. "Get ready to meet your baby after this push." Y/n's grip tightened on Charles' hand. "Im so scared." She whispered. "So am I. Just hold my hand as tight as you want." He said, moving her hand back behind her head and placing a kiss on her forehead. "One last push and we have it mon cœur." Y/n took a few deep breaths before she began her final push. With one roar of pain, another's first breath was taken. The pair looked down as they lifted the baby to Y/n's chest. She lifted her hands away from Charles and held her baby closely. Charles couldn't hold back tears of joy. "We did it, Y/n. Look at our beautiful baby." He gently cradled the newborn in his. Y/n smiled, exhausted but radiant. "Our little champion." Charles kissed her forehead. "Look at her." The nurses took the baby to get her all cleaned up while Charles sat right next to Y/n caressing her face.

"Mr Leclerc?" The couple turned to face the nurse. "Would you like to cut the Umbilical cord?" Charles looked surprised. "Am I allowed?" The nurse nodded. "Father's generally do while the mother's rest a little." Charles took a deep breath, stepping forward to gaze at the delicate face of his daughter who was already squirming around. He smiled and ran a finger down her face. "Camille." He whispered, the name rolling off his tongue like a cherished melody. "You just need to snip here between the two clips and that's it." The nurse whispered. "Will it hurt her?" He asked. "Unfortunately, but only for a minute." He took a deep breath, and with one snip, the tears erupted again. "Je suis désolé mon ange, je ne voudrais jamais te faire du mal." He cooed. He sat observing the nurses carefully, already being quite protective of her and finally, he got to hold her.

Charles walked back carefully cradling the small bundle in his arms, not daring to look away. "She's beautiful." He said, sitting down on Y/n's bed. His girlfriend, beaming with exhaustion, looked at him with teary eyes. "She's perfect, Charles." As he held Camille for the first time, the weight of responsibility and love settled on his shoulders. "Hey there, little one," he cooed, a soft smile playing on his lips. "I'm your Daddy." He smiled. "Pascale is going to love her." Y/n whispered. "Are we still going with Camille." She asked. "Of course. We have this name picked out for months." He replied. Charles marveled at the tiny fingers that curled around his own.

That, as Monaco's golden sunset bathed the hospit in warm hues, Charles cradled Camille in his arms as Y/n slept soundly. "You know, sweetheart," he began, his voice tender, "I may race for a living, but you-" He paused. "You're my greatest victory." Camille, still too young to comprehend words, gurgled happily in response. Charles chuckled, a mixture of exhaustion and elation in his eyes. "Chaque course, c'est pour toi et maman. À chacun, je vous promets que mon ange."

Weeks later, Charles returned home from another race weekend, the scent of motor oil now replaced by the sweet aroma of baby powder. He opened the door, and there she was – his girlfriend, weary but smiling, holding Camille in her arms, while Charles held his newest P1 trophy for his family.

[leclercsfilm]

love notes

social media au! enjoy :) charles leclerc x reader

ynusername has posted

liked by yourbestfriend, charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc and 140 others

ynusername: today was a good day. (i failed a test but at least i looked my best)

charles_leclerc: i love you cherie. to me, you are my master mind, my smart girl... 😊❤️

ynusername: thank you baby 🥹 someone has to be smart in this relationship 🤭

landonorris: well obviously, not today 💀

ynusername: are you having a revenge after i beat you in geography quiz??? :))))

carlossainz55: lando, she is studying medicine. your brain has no capacity for learning how to read 😉

ynusername: carlos, you are my favourite 😌

landonorris: i am DYSLECIX

oscarpiastri: It's dyslexic.

arthur_leclerc: you revised with me!! and you knew everything 😭

ynusername: im crying rn, please 😍🫶

charles_leclerc: mon amour, you overworked yourself. we are going on the date tonight... ❤️

ynusername: i love you charlie but i can cry in a restaurant too :((

charles_leclerc has posted

liked by ynusername, carlossainz55, pierregasly, landonorris and 723,684 others

charles_leclerc: ❤️

landonorris: she is reconnecting with a nature... didn't think it was that bad... sorry yn 🤍

oscarpiastri: she actually has a future.

landonorris: i deserve that.

carlossainz55: where is spain? 🤔

papayafan: damn lando, you getting roasted 💀💀💀💀

ynusername: love you ❤️🫶

depressedferrarifan: omg you have beautiful hair ❤️

allaboutsupermax: girl, we thought you don't exist... thought you were mystery...

f1gossipmisinformation: she is just a private person, she has nothing to do with a media.

oscarpastryismyfav: they are cute 🥹

ynusername has posted:

liked by yourbestfriend, charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc, pierregasly and 259 others

ynusername: i did not eat your pasta arthur! im not lying, please unlock the door

arthur_leclerc: you were laughing

ynusername: you almost cried

arthur_leclerc: i was hungry

ynusername: i will make pasta tonight, so we can all eat, please just get out of the bathroom

arthur_leclerc: i love you

charles_leclerc: i ate it 😊

arthur_leclerc: OHHH, LISTEN HERE YOU-

landonorris: i need to get in the bathroom guys, hurry up 😀

danielricciardo: you are smoking cigarettes? 🤔

ynusername: literally smoking once a year

maxverstappen1: that's bad for you. better none

ynusername: you better stop drinking every weekend, so you may live past 45

maxverstappen1: im never drunk

charles_leclerc: you sure

charles_leclerc has posted:

liked by pierregasly, ynusername, francisca.cgomes, carlossainz55 and 893,953 others

charles_leclerc: this weekend was so much fun wtih @/ynusername ❤️

carlossainz55: didn't tag the photographer? 😒

charles_leclerc: you could do better.

pierregasly: we were literally beside you.

landonorris: it's like we didn't exist

supersupermaxmax: ouch 💀

ynusername: ❤️

charles_leclerc: ❤️

ynusername: ❤️❤️

charles_leclerc: ❤️❤️❤️

thissupidredcarwontgovroomvroom: ok stop it

landownerfanno1: leave them alone. you were young once and in love

depressedcuzferrari: im too single for this

ynusername has posted:

liked by charles_leclerc, danielricciardo, yourbestfriend, francisca.cgomes and 274 others

ynusername: 📸

charles_leclerc: ❤️❤️🫶

ynusername: 🥰🥰❤️

francisca.cgomes: beauty 😊

ynusername: 😭😭🫶

[lilypads17]

arthur bennett does not know what the term "serving cunt" means. any time emizel brings him around the demons hide out all the other boys go "damn dude peepaw serving cunt" and arthur just stares at them long enough that they get Really uncomfortable and go "haha… you look good is what im sayi- you know what, nevermind,"

[twola]

im just wondering if you could do a short story with arthur getting ‘jealous’ of you at a bar for flirting with other men? 👀 and he later makes you regret pissing him off? *wink wink*

Learning The Hard Way

Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader Smut (18+), MDNI

➵ Fic Masterlist ➵ AO3 Link

In which Arthur needs to teach you a lesson.

taglist: @pinkiemme, @redwritr, @mykneeshurt, @bimbo-dollz @verai-marcel @shootybangbang @cowboydisaster

CW: There’s a bit of back and forth in this one… that devolves into physicality. Obviously, I do not condone any type of domestic violence. So we’re gonna go with that this type of play is consensual.

Many thanks to my meowdy pardners - @verai-marcel, @shootybangbang, and @redwritr - for helping me shine this one shot until it gleams!

Your voice rings out in the night through the camp, where Lemoyne’s heavy humidity hangs low. “You ain’t my husband, you ain’t my daddy, you ain’t anyone to tell me how to do my job!”

“You listen here- ”

You burst out of the tent and stomp toward the lakeshore, away from the orange firelight glowing toward the center of camp. Fortunately, the night is loud enough, and your voice doesn’t jar the entire camp, drowned out by cicadas and the rumble of men drinking after dinner.

Not that you’re particularly concerned about making a scene. No, you couldn’t give a shit about that. Your temper flares and your boots slap against the muddy grown as you clench your fists, skirts swishing at the speed of your gait.

But even with your artificially elongated stride, the loud footsteps that follow you eventually catch up to you as you reach the wood line away from the glen. 

You’re yanked back by your elbow and turned around to come face to face with an equally aggravated outlaw, wrinkles set deeply in his frown as his eyes narrow under the brim of his dark hat.

“I’ll damn well tell you when you’re bein’ stupid about a job. Coulda got yourself picked up by the law on that last stage,” he hisses, and you scowl in return as you yank back your arm from his grip, “Ain’t no way you’re doing this one.” 

“No, Arthur. Just because we’re sleepin’ together doesn’t mean you can order me around like some little housewife.”

Arthur Morgan’s scowl deepens. “You ain’t comin’ on this job and that’s final.” 

“Fuck you.” You seethe, turning on your heel before he grabs at your arm again, yanking you backward.

“Get your ass back in that tent, you little-”

He doesn’t see the whip-fast arc of your other hand before it connects with his cheek. It sends his hat flying to the ground and he immediately lets go of your arm, reeling from the blow.

“It’s over. I’ll get my things out of your tent and back to my own. You ain’t gonna treat me like I’m some prissy little thing. I don’t need this and I don’t need you.” You enunciate the last word with venom in your tone, spinning on your heel again to walk in the other direction, along the wood line, skirting the edge of the camp toward where the horses are hitched.

You needed some kind of outlet to quell the hotness of your blood after the fight, and stomping around camp wasn't doing it.

Hiking your skirts, you hurry toward your spry little gelding, dapple coated and one boy you know you could always count on. He neighs softly as you untie his rein frm the hitching post. You run your hand through his black mane.

“C’mon now boy. Let’s get outta camp to blow off some steam, sound good?” 

As if he can understand you, he nudges against your shoulder with his nose and you laugh as you move to pull yourself up into his saddle. You tighten the strap on the holster mounted on his saddle, your repeater at the ready should you need it.

Without a look back, you guide him into the freshly-borne night, at a gallop before you even hit the main road.

-

But alas, breathless riding through Scarlett Meadows can quell your aggravation but so much. As the moon rises in the sky, you slow your gelding down upon the red-dirt path leading into Rhodes - the Parlour House in the distance is lit up, beckoning visitors with its warm glow.

A drink or two. That would certainly help you unwind. 

Laughter and music waft into the warm night as you slide down from your horse, hitching him to the post right outside the main porch. You straighten your skirts before tucking back stray hairs along your temple as you step onto the porch and push your way through the door.

Indeed, the saloon is full of people tonight gaily drinking away their wages. You weave your way through the crowd to the bar, where you order yourself a whiskey from the bartender, tossing him a few coins when he slides the glass to you.

The drink goes down far too quickly to alleviate your frustration. Barely takes the edge off. It’s not the first time you and Arthur have gone at it - but you know, you know you were right. You were robbing stages before Arthur was your bedmate, before you joined the gang. He’s just going to have to learn to give you your space to do your work.

Hell, no one ever told him not to go on a job. Damn double standards.

Though… you can’t lie to yourself too much. There is a corner of your heart that is warmed by the fact he’s concerned for you - that he wants you safe. No one has wanted that for years.

No. You were an outlaw first. And damned if Arthur Morgan makes you some camp filly to warm his bed.

“Why, ma’am, you look like you could use another drink.”

You turn your head toward the man. His cheeks are flushed with drink and the starched collar of his shirt is unbuttoned at the neck. A silken waistcoat. Probably a Gray or a Braithwaite cousin. Pomaded dark hair and a clean-shaven face. All of the trappings of a feckless rich boy who had never seen a hard day’s work in his life. 

Completely the opposite of Arthur. 

You give a smile, leaning on your elbow, “Suppose I could…”

He nods to the bartender immediately, and a glass of whiskey appears in front of you at the bar.

You sip at it slowly as he steps closer, his elbows nearly touching yours. A subtle air of fancy cologne; of bergamot and southern jasmine, wafts off of him as he begins to engage you in conversation. 

One drink turns into two. Turns into three.

The man’s arm wraps around your waist, landing on your hip, pulling you to near sit in his lap on the barstool. “Pretty little thing like you - we don’t get that much here out in Rhodes.”

You lean into him. Who knows where this could lead. Maybe you could have a little fun tonight. Maybe you could rob him after. Maybe he was just what you need to get a certain brooding outlaw out of your system.

“What do you say about headin’ upstairs for the night?” You whisper as you toy with the lapel of his waistcoat. The golden chain of his pocket watch glints under the lanterns. A sly smile creeps across your face.

He can barely contain himself, grinning from ear to ear, and leans in to nip at your jaw. You giggle in response. He helps you slide off of his lap and presses his lips to your ear, whispering things he wants to do to you all night as he squeezes your hip.

“Just you wait here, sweet thing - I’ll get us a room and we can continue on.”

You smile a roguish, knowing grin that betrays your intent as you return to the barstool. The bartender pushes another glass of whiskey in front of you, which you down quickly, sucking air between your teeth as it burns on the way down.

You tense up as you feel a body moving too close behind you, a man with a large frame leaning into the bar behind you, crowding you in.

The tang of tobacco and whiskey wafts into your nose before you’re yanked from your seat.

-

By the time you’ve regained your bearings and your footing as you’ve been dragged out the side door of the Parlour House, you recognize what’s going on.

Just like you recognize that black hat.

“Get off me, Arthur.” You yell but are fairly helpless to do anything but be dragged along the path to the empty stable.

The outlaw gruffly snorts in your direction, his large hand clamped on your upper arm. As you reach the stable, your shoulders slam against the wooden wall of the workroom he had cornered you into.

“Your goddamn mouth - I need to remind you who you belong to.” Arthur hisses, groping roughly at your breast with one hand. The other grasps at your skirts and starts hiking them upward. You’re forced face down on the workbench, Arthur’s hand across your back to hold you down, your bucking unable to move against his strength. You squawk indignantly as your bloomers are yanked down your thighs and puddle near your ankles.

“Sure as fuck, ain’t you-”

The loud smack of skin on skin cuts you off, and you yelp in painful surprise at the sting of his palm on the bare, pale skin of your behind.

“Wanna try again?”

Your ass throbs as he removes his large hand from your skin, but with his other placed down hard against the small of your back, you’re unable to move from where he has you pinned to the table.

“I said, sure as fuck ain’t you-agh!”

You cry out, louder, as he swings again, hitting you square across your rear with a searing smack.

“Honey, ain’t making me happy to do this, but you gotta learn your lesson, and seems like this is the only way to get through that thick head o’ yours.”

You hiss at him, glaring daggers. 

Smack.

“Changed yer mind yet?”

“Fuck you.”

Smack.

After the fifth blow, tears start to leak from your eyes as you clench your fingers on the table. You aren’t going to be able to ride for a week at this rate - your ass is red and hot, but you also can’t deny the moisture accumulating just below, starting to trickle down your inner thigh. Goddamnit.

“You belong to that man you were battin’ your eyes at?” He seethes behind you, and you growl in response, unwilling to give him satisfaction.

Smack.

Smack.

Smack.

The eighth blow makes you cry out in pain, and Arthur falters. When he removes his hand from your rear, he slides his palm down to trail over your thigh for a moment. He pauses, pulling back up and rubbing his palm over your behind almost tenderly. But you know, you know, that he felt your slick as he swept his fingers across the backs of your thighs.

“Y’ready to stop all this nonsense?” Arthur drawls, softly, slowly, as if he were trying to calm a skittish horse. The circles he’s gently rubbing on your sore ass feel almost pleasant, and you don’t clench your fingers nearly as hard on the edge of the table. Your tears have stopped, leaving a drying trail down your cheeks.

You don’t respond - you can’t - because at that moment, he slips his hand down, down between your thighs to caress your glistening folds, and you gasp in surprised pleasure as he presses his knuckle against your clit. You widen your legs without thinking, giving him more access. 

“Think you are…” he rasps, and gently moves his fingers against you, placing one arm on the table next to you to lean over your frame. His large frame smothers yours, clothed hips brushing against yours gently.

You whine and shiver beneath him. You know you’ve already lost.

“What d’ya need, sweetheart?”

“I-I… agh- I need-” You stumble over your words, your knees shaking as he pushes that finger within your cunt, suckling on your earlobe as he leans further over you. You can feel his thickening cock against the back of your thigh as he gently presses his hips forward against you in time with the strokes of his finger.

Arthur presses a second finger inside you and a needy cry escapes your throat, your hand shooting forward to grab his, forcing your fingers through his free hand. His breath is warm against your ear and he chuckles, curling his fingers as you moan. God, his hands are so big, his fingers filling you so much better than your own.

“F -fuck …” you stutter out, pressing your hips back against his hand, “A-Arthur… I need you.”

The outlaw extricates his hand from between your legs and you whine in dismay at the loss. Strong hands encircle your waist and lift you from where you are laid out on the table, and through no small feat, he turns you and winds his hands under your thighs, guiding you to wrap your legs around his waist, your arms wound around his neck. 

It’s then that you look at him, for maybe the first time all day, caught drowning in the pools of his blue eyes. You can barely feel him stepping forward, carrying you, his hands firm under your thighs, careful not to touch the inflamed skin of your rear.

Your back is pressed against the wooden wall of the barn, but he doesn’t crowd you in at all. He leans in, and uncontrollably, you do too. When your mouths meet, you give a little sigh, opening your lips and permitting him to enter, his tongue pressing against yours as a rumble bubbles up from his chest.

“Shouldn’ta yelled at you,” he breathes against your lips, and as much as you can, you shake your head at him.

“Shouldn’ta run off,” you whisper in between kisses, the wet sounds of lips meeting nearly drowning out your low reply.

“Shouldn’ta hit you.” 

“You know I liked it.” You whisper with the hint of a smile ghosting across your lips.

“Little spitfire, you are.”

Arthur presses his hips forward into yours, and the long, full column of his cock in his pants presses against your bare folds, and you moan and throw your head back, gyrating your hips against him. He swears under his breath, one hand leaving your leg and furiously working the buttons of his fly as he retracts his hips just enough to work his pants open.

It's only a moment more before you feel the hot head of his cock press against your weeping opening, and he presses his lips to yours desperately as he juts his hips forward, greedily swallowing your moan as he quickly pushes himself inside you.

Your hands fly to his hair, fingers interlaced with honeyed locks, and his hand returns to your thigh as he starts to retract his hips and thrusts them upward in a slow rhythm, the wet noise of skin joining loud and stark in the night.

“ ‘M yours, Arthur.” You breathe as your eyes flutter with the slow, languorous rhythm he’s set. He leans in and takes your lips in a passionate kiss as he presses himself deeper within you.

“Was never a question,” he replies with a smirk, as he draws back enough that his forehead still leans against yours as he rolls his hips upward.

You frown slightly, but Arthur leans in for another kiss that steals your breath away. He’s a natural, of course, in the art of stealing. Your breath, your heart. Everything.

“You’re mine, Darlin’,” Arthur whispers against your lips, “You’re mine, ‘nd I’m yours.”

[zcorners120]

Hello, could you please make a part 3 for the shut up and get in story? I loved part 1 and part 2! Maybe that they walk into the paddock and garage together and that those mechanics are shocked that they are together. But if you come up with something else I will be happy with that as well!

yes ! im v happy to see my arthur fics getting recognition, especially shut up & get in, i put loads of effort into them <3 it's been a while since i wrote them so i had to re read them LMAAAOO

arthur leclerc x reader MASTERLIST PART ONE PART TWO

synopsis; your confusing newfound relationship with Arthur has now started to progress further..

warnings;

Trapped in his embrace, you began to increasingly panic. Maybe if you just pretended to fall asleep for awhile? Or do you just pull out of his grip?

You took the riskier option, having to pull with every muscle and get out of his strong arms. He stirred slightly, the gentle sunlight gracing his relaxed face as he dozed off.

You changed back into your now dry jeans, keeping his shirt on as you spray some deodorant and perfume on that you had in your bag. Slipping down the stairs and into the kitchen you made some breakfast, humming a tune from a shitty song, mixing the eggs in the pan.

"Something smells good." A deep voice announces, accompanied by the steps that it was taking towards you.

Slightly jumping, forgetting it wasn't just you in this incredible house.

"Oh yeah sorry, thought I'd just make us something." You cringed at the thought of this, you 24 hours ago wouldn't of have believed the situation.

He sat opposite on the kitchen island, rubbing his eyes groggily.

"I don't wanna bring this up, but like, sleeping together? What do we make of that?" Stirring the scrambled eggs before stopping, looking up and being met with Arthur's raised eyebrows.

"At least let me eat the eggs first, damn." Witty attitude straight from the morning.

"Not like that, pervert." You flicked a bit of broken egg shell towards him that you hadn't thrown away yet.

Little did you know, that egg shell was about to start war.

You saw the demeanour on his face turn from playful to something serious behind his eyes, but you were a bit too curious to find out.

Turning around with a smirk plastered on your face, thinking you'd finally won against him. Getting the pancake mix ready, you felt something wet and gooey fall on your head, running down the back of your neck.

"You're game."

Splatters everywhere. Ketchup in places it shouldn't be. Equally soaked in milk and runny yolk dripping.

Sat down on the wet floor opposite each other, absolutely beat by your childish activities. Trying to pretend like Arthur didn't pick you up by the waist, screaming when dropped you in a concoction of blueberries, smashed avocado and strawberry jam. Or closing you into the corner of the kitchen, his hot and heavy breath millimetres away from your plump lips, moment ruined by yoghurt falling and saturating your hair.

As you went to shower, for the second time, in Arthur Leclerc's shower, he posted something on his story.

Agreeing to a peace treaty, you headed to work in Arthur's car again, wearing another one of his tops and a pair of his joggers since he insisted.

Walking through the double doors to the academy together, huge smiles plastered on your faces was truly a sight that had to be seen with your own eyes.

The other mechanics went quiet, slightly in shock to see the two of you walking in late, giddy, and wearing his clothes.

"I thought they hated each other?" One asked his friend, to which his friend shakes his head and replies.

"They're kids. Who knows at this rate?"

[a-libra-writes]

AAAA REQUESTS ARE OPENED ILYSM!!11!1!1If it's not too much id like to request for my bbgs Jamie, Brienne and maybe Arya when they haven't seen s/o all day so they're getting pretty angsty but when they're finished with training or whatever for the day they find beloved asleep in one of the spots they usually meet at while waiting for them. (Sorry if I made it too specific) sending much loveლ⁠(⁠´⁠ ⁠❥⁠ ⁠`⁠ლ⁠)

Im gonna do Jaime and Brienne (and some others bc i cannot control myself) but sans Arya! lets goooo

Jaime - First of all, he's in a foul mood when he finally gets back, muttering and grumbling to himself. When he spots you in the usual spot you wait in - oh. Shit, that's actually ... very endearing. He wants to be smug about it, but there's just a lot of sentiment that sits with him as he tries to remember someone wanting to see him that badly, that they'd fall asleep waiting. He watches you for a little while, considering this, before finally waking you up. Now he's all smug and teasing you about being so clingy. Naturally he'll escort you back to your chambers, not really caring about the hour or that he's a Kingsguard and shouldn't be seen doing such things. He'll figure out a lie an explanation later.

Jon - He's ready to kick in the door of the Lord Commander's chambers, if only his sore and freezing body would cooperate. Jon's exhausted and figured a while ago you would've gone to bed. You both have to be careful, after all - but then he spots you dozed off in an old wooden chair by a dying hearth. Were you waiting up this whole time? He feels guilty at once, and tries to be quiet as he gets the fire going again. Once it's up, Jon gently wakes you up by brushing some of your hair aside and kissing your brow. He really can't help himself, though his hands are like ice! You two cuddle and warm up before heading to your separate chambers.

Brienne - It was a brutal day of riding and routing bandits, and while she can normally take it, this went on longer than usual. Brienne's strong, but she has her physical limit. She's staggering back, being the last to retire to bed. When she finds that you waited for her, she feels so bad! Brienne hadn't realized you'd do such a thing - it fills up her heart with affection, so she gently wakes you and asks if she can carry you back to your room. You actually accept, and she feels the fatigue wash away as she gladly carries you back. She loves being a knight for you, and it turns out you're very snuggly when you're tired.

Arthur Dayne - He leaves his post late in the evening, much later than the usual meeting time. You probably aren't there, but - it's worth a look, isn't it? And there you are, asleep in the garden you and Arthur like to steal away to. He wakes you up very gently, cautioning you between kisses about falling asleep in such a vulnerable state. He doesn't have the heart to really scold you about it, at least not until the morning. He escorts you halfway to your chambers before has to retreat to the White Sword Tower.

Victarion - He already thinks about you when he doesn't want to, or when it's not a good time. It happens more often when he's tired, which is troublesome. The late hour doesn't occur to him when he's back; you're always waiting, no matter what, and - oh. You're asleep. ... You really shouldn't be asleep where anyone could find you and do something, even in Castle Pyke. Victarion scoops you right up, not realizing how badly that would startle you. He just grumbles that you ought to be more careful, and any touches or kisses distract him immediately.

Asha - First, why are you so damn cute? How'd you end up in a place like the Iron Islands, anyway? For once in her life, someone is waiting for her at home like a puppy... even when she gets back late, like now. Asha wills her tired body over and wakes you up with a big kiss and her soft laugh. Aww, what, you really like her that much? She messes with your hair and pulls you up, urging you to her chambers as you stumble and grumble behind her.

Jorah - Well he's always thinking of you, but especially so if he had to depart before the sun is up and he's finally returning hours after its set. By then, Jorah's exhausted and just wants to get home to you. Once he finds you asleep on the settee you like best - oh no, he might die from the sweetness. You waited up for him? Jorah sits right next to you, giving you a big, sleepy hug and apologizing about being back so late. You both end up falling asleep cuddled up on the couch because he's too tired to move and now you're comfortable and warm, so you aren't going anywhere.

Brynden - Coming back from a long day of training and keeping up with his men, Brynden doesn't notice the time until he spots you sleeping on a large windowsill. He feels bad for making you wait so long, and finds it endearing you even wanted to wait up for an old knight. He picks you up very carefully, so it's his voice that wakes you. "Making these old bones carry you back to bed, hm?" He's not bothered that anyone would spot you two - he knows which halls are empty at this hour.

[margowritesthings]

The Greatest Gift A Cowboy Could Ask For

a @rdrevents winter gift exchange for @cowboydisaster

SERIES MASTERLIST

pairing: Arthur Morgan x pregnant!f!reader word count: 3215 words warnings: teeth-rotting fluff, pregnant reader, labour, birth a/n: Bea! i cannot BELIEVE i got you for my winter exchange but i was SO HAPPY when the email came through! I tried to combine all three of your prompts and then proceeded to lie to you for a month about what i was writing for gift exchange whoops

anyway, merry christmas my love! this year i met you and im so glad i did! you're such a lovely soul and such a talented writer and i hope you enjoy this!! <3

tagging: @cowboydisaster @cassidylynnj @inkandbloodbound @counteveryfreckle @reaveries @elifsukirdaghehe @musicallisto

It’s the smell that wakes you up, that sweet aroma you instantly recognise as drinking chocolate. For a moment, it disorients you, because Pearson never has drinking chocolate in, but your eyelashes soon flutter open and your mind registers that you’re right where you should be: yours and Arthur’s shared tent. You’re alone, the bed beside you cold enough to know that Arthur has been up for a while, so you reach over to the gold pocket watch you stole from that poker player with the shifty eyes in Blackwater all those months back, finding the time to be 37 minutes past 9.

“Shit…” You’ve slept in. Normally, you’d lurch up, throwing on your boots and clothes and rushing out to catch up on chores, but you physically can’t anymore. Your swollen belly restricts any and all quick movements, that usual ache waking up and settling right in your spine. It’ll stay there all day, it always does nowadays. 

It’ll be worth it, you reassure yourself, imagining Arthur holding his child, the one you made with him, in those big strong arms, loving it unconditionally, and the ache somehow doesn’t seem so bad, after all. There’s a weird feeling that remains that you can’t quite put your finger on, but you can ignore it enough to get on with your day, you think.

Slowly, you sit up, wrapping a woollen blanket around your shoulders to protect you from the chill of the December air. When Ms. Grimshaw found out you were pregnant, she hounded Dutch until he set you and Arthur a proper tent up, which your eyes scan over now. The cup of chocolate is still steaming and when you wrap your hands around it, the heat radiates through your hands and settles in your core when you sip. It tastes so good, the rarity of such a treat only making it better. You smile to yourself, picturing Arthur leaving it there for you to wake up with and sneaking around as to not wake you, the big old brute. 

It takes you far too long to get ready nowadays, but in time you do, pulling three pairs of socks over your swollen ankles to protect your feet from the cold. Your boots are tricky to get on thanks to your 8 month bump, but you eventually manage to do it and stand up all by yourself. What a morning of achievement. And all before 10AM… just about.

═══════☆═══════

The snow crunches under your feet as you pull your coat tighter around you and step outside onto Horseshoe Overlook. Your breath dances in the air whenever you exhale while surveying the camp and your brows knit together when you don’t spot Arthur. You can see his horse by the hitching posts, munching from the trough, but Diesel, your own steed, is nowhere to be seen. You’re not concerned, Arthur has started alternating between Diesel and his mare since you became too pregnant to ride him yourself, but that doesn’t stop you from missing the both of them. 

“Auntie y/n!” As usual, you hear Jack before you see him and you just about jump out of your skin when you feel his little arms hug around your leg. You have no idea how he manages to sneak up on you every damn time, and by god does it make you nervous for when your own child can crawl out of sight, but you laugh nonetheless, ruffling his hair like you so often do when you see him.

“Y’alright there, Jack?” You look down to the boy, actually having to peer over your belly to see him beaming up at you. 

“Yep! Santa’s coming tomorrow and mama said if I’m good and I put one of my socks outside tonight I’ll get presents.”  He’s so excited he can hardly stay still, releasing his hold on you to shuffle from foot to foot restlessly. Looking at Jack, you can see your future. You see Arthur reading Christmas stories to your own son or daughter before bed and bribing them with presents every time they misbehave in the entire month of December. The magic of Christmas is alight in Jack’s innocent little eyes, unburdened by any of the shit the adult members of the Van der Linde gang have to worry about. And you just can’t wait to share that magic with your own little family.

“Is that so?” You raise an eyebrow questioningly at Jack, crossing your arms and resting them on your belly gently,

“Uh huh! She said we have to leave room at the hitchin’ post for his reindeer, too. I told Uncle Arthur so he leaves space when he gets back with Diesel.” Now he’s stepped back, you can see just how red the tip of Jack’s nose is, despite the four scarves Abigail seems to have wrapped him in.

“You saw Uncle Arthur this mornin’?” Your curiosity piques at the mention of your husband and his curious ongoings. Jack nods, but looks off to the side, much less eager to talk about this subject.

“Uh huh. But he made me promise not to tell you where he went.” He can’t seem to fight off the smile pulling at his near-blue lips and it's goddamn adorable, but it doesn’t stop you from at least attempting to corrupt this child’s promise, planting your hands on your hips.

“Oh, yeah? What about if I had a word with Santa for you, huh? Ask if he can bring ya’ an extra chocolate bar?”

So this is what it’s come to, huh?

Bribing a 10 year old… 

Forshame, Mrs. Morgan.

═══════☆═══════

It’s another hour before you find out where Arthur is. Jack doesn’t break under interrogation and you make a mental note to let his Uncle Dutch know what an asset he is to the gang. Pearson makes you bacon and eggs even though you missed breakfast on orders from both Arthur and Grimshaw to never let you go hungry in your condition. The strange feeling from when you woke up doesn’t seem to budge even with a full stomach, but that thought is pushed out of your head when you see a dog, covered in snow, burst past Charles keeping watch and come barreling towards you. You don’t have time to react or figure out what the hell is going on before there are wet paws on your lap and a fluffy, panting smile only inches away from your face.

“MOOSE! Get back here, Moose!” Arthur’s voice bellows through the camp and you can hear Diesel's gallop, but you can’t seem to see anything but dog as the hound in front of you grabs the last piece of bacon from your plate and begins licking your face.

Somehow, Arthur runs over to you and grabs who you assume to be Moose, picking him up with an ease that only his strong arms could take. You seem to be frozen in shock, your mind working triple speed to catch up with your surroundings. 

Okay, what can you feel?

My face is wet.

What can you see?

My husband, holding a 50lb dog like it’s a baby.

What about smell?

Not sure, but it definitely isn’t my last piece of bacon.

“God, darlin’, are you alright? Did he hurt’cha?” Arthur’s concern is evident, wrinkling his forehead with worry as he puts the dog back on the floor, who has considerably calmed now that there is no more bacon. Arthur takes a few strides before he’s in front of you, kneeling beside you to take your face in his huge gloved hands and wildly scan his eyes over your features. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine. The only casualty was my breakfast.” At 8 months pregnant, it’s hard not to find that completely and utterly tragic, but at least your baby is safe.

“That damn dog… I should’a listened when the guy told me he’s got a mind of his own.” Satisfied of a lack of wounds to your person, Arthur stands, holding out both hands to help you up too. You fall into his embrace perfectly, finally feeling the relief of the first contact with your beloved for the day. It makes everything feel that much better, that much safer in his arms that you hum contentedly.

“Mornin’, sweetheart.” Arthur whispers into your hair, placing a kiss right atop your head, “Good morning…” you sigh out, basking in the bubble that’s forming around the two of you, as if you’re the only ones in the world. “Thanks for the chocolate this morning.”

“My pleasure.”

You both stay there for a while, swaying in your embrace, until you eye what’s going on around you and have to break the moment.

“...Arthur?” “Yeah?” “Why is there a dog eatin’ one of Dutch’s books?” “Ah shit… Moose! NO.” Arthur all but barks, his arms slipping from your waist to retrieve Moose. He slips a rope around Moose’s collar, which seems to calm him quite a bit, enough to be able to lead him back over to you. Now the excitement has died down, Moose sits beside Arthur, doting up at you with the epitome of ‘puppy dog eyes’.

Alright… it’s pretty damn cute.

And when Arthur sheepishly rubs the back of his neck, you know he’s yours. You can read your husband like a book.

“I, uh… The other month y’said you’ve always wanted a dog, and I figured it'd be easier to get a dog then a baby rather than the other way around and… and well you’re giving me so much this year, more than I can ever repay and… well, merry christmas, Mrs. Morgan.” His nervous ramblings that only you seem to have the ability to enable are a pleasure to watch. They grow your grin by the second, as does the goofiest dog you’ve ever seen smiling up at you. You’re so happy you could burst, though you certainly wouldn’t want to in your state. You’re completely speechless for a second.

“You’re… you’re not mad, are ya?” “I mean, I ain’t never heard’a somethin’ so bold as gettin’ a new dog a month before givin’ birth, but no. I… I love him. Thank you, Arthur.” You reach onto your tiptoes to throw your arms around his neck as best you can with a baby between you, kissing Arthur with enough force for him to drop the makeshift leash in complete distraction. Moose feels his release happen and runs off again, this time finding and chasing Jack around in circles while he laughs madly. Arthur snakes an arm around your waist and you feel your head fit perfectly into the crook of his neck while you watch the chaos. 

“How’re y’feelin’ today? Still achin’?” “Uh huh… But I’m okay. Feel a little weird, but I think that’s normal at this stage.” You reply honestly, feeling the smallest bit of relief from the thumb circling your lower back.

“Well, take it easy, alright? I’ve done chores enough for the both of us.”

“Alright… Thank you.” You sigh, actually rather missing the hustle. You’re a ranch girl at heart who isn’t used to just sitting around, your decreasing list of things you can actually do nowadays getting more frustrating by the day.

“Not long to go now till we meet her now, angel.” “We don’t know for sure it’s a girl, cowpoke.”

“I know… I just gotta feelin’.”

═══════☆═══════

Later that evening, everyone in camp is sitting around the fire breathing like dragons as they sing christmas carols to Javier’s guitar and you’re tucked under Arthur’s arm, cuddling into him to keep warm. You’re pretty sure Moose hasn’t left Jack’s side all day. Not since he slipped him an entire bowl of stew at dinner, at least. 

The strange feeling of pressure that has been building in your abdomen all day hasn’t yet relented, but you haven’t yet found good enough cause to worry anyone about it. You’re 8 months along, surely you’re supposed to feel weird?

You’re the only one close enough to Arthur to know that he has absolutely no idea what the words to this song are. He’s mumbling along to the general tune, sounding a lot like Uncle’s slurs after a few too many whiskies. It takes everything in you to not snicker at his poor attempt to guess how many of which kind of bird or performer or… maid(?) this songwriter got for Christmas, especially when you’re pretty sure you hear the words ‘seven fish-a-shittin’ leave his lips. 

Everything is one fat man in a red suit away from being the perfect picturesque Christmas Eve, which you’re about to point out to Arthur when the sharpest stabbing pain rips a strangled cry from deep within your throat. Your hands shoot to your belly helplessly, wanting to grip at it to ease the pain but knowing you can’t. The carols are too loud for anyone but Arthur to notice, who instantly crouches in front of you.

“Sweetheart? What’s wrong?” He’s panicked, grasping at your arms and attempting to capture your attention away from the considerable pain you’re clearly in. Your face is scrunched up, teeth clenched down in some poor attempt to brace the pain.

“I… I don’t know. It hurts. Feels like pressure.. Right- argh!” 

This time, your cry is loud enough to gain the attention of those around the fire. Javier stops playing and most everybody looks over at you. Ms. Grimshaw and Dutch both stand, concern evidently written in their expression. 

“Is she alright?” Dutch asks,

“What’s happenin’, honey?” Grimshaw kneels beside Arthur in front of you. You try to breathe through the smallest hole your lips can make, focusing on the sensation as much as you can rather than whatever is happening to you. You’re trying your hardest not to worry about the baby, but it’s hard, especially with so many people now worrying about you out loud.

“I… dunno. Hurts.” You manage to get out, finding Arthur’s hand and gripping on it with a downright bruising force.

“C’mon, let’s get you inside and out of the cold, alright?” You nod, feeling Arthur holding onto one arm and who you assume is Dutch on the other helping you to your feet. You lean on them as much as possible and somehow you make it into your tent. You’re laid down on your cot just as the pain begins to subside and your lungs feel like they can open back up again. When your eyelids soften again, you see Arthur’s worried face right beside you, Grimshaw pottering around with towels and Dutch waiting by the entrance to the tent with Dr. Strauss.

“Darlin’? Y’alright?” The sheer intensity of the panic in his voice is almost more than you can bear and you know he’s being plagued by the same nightmare you are right now, just hoping to god or whoever the hell might be listening that your baby is okay.

“Mhm. S’easing now… It just came on real quick, that’s all…” Your breaths are struggled but ever so slightly more stable than before. Arthur’s thumb runs over your knuckles soothingly. 

Over by the entrance to the tent, you see Dutch and Strauss in a hushed conversation that frays your nerves something awful. “What’s happening, Arthur?”

“I… I don’t know, sweetheart. But you’re gonna be okay. I promise.”

Enter Dr. Strauss, carrying his medical bag. Arthur stays right by your side as the Doctor sits in front of your cot, mumbling his apologies as he lifts up your skirts and pulls a blanket over your legs.

You’re panicking, not knowing how you know exactly, but knowing that the pressure is going to come back soon. An awful anticipation clamps your hand onto Arthur’s tighter, but Strauss’ head pops up from under the blanket before it happens. Arthur’s head whips around.

“What’s happening, doc? Is she okay? Is… is the baby gonna be okay?”

The second between Arthur’s question and Strauss’ answer lasts a lifetime. It’s an agony worse than anything this pregnancy has thrown at you in all its 8 months in existence. 

“I believe you’re in labour, Mrs. Morgan.”

═══════☆═══════

It’s a long, hard labour but Arthur never leaves your side once. Not when your waters break, or when he can barely keep his eyes open. Not even when you almost break his hand the first time you try to push. He stays with you. 

He’s right beside you when you start to panic between contractions, tears falling down your reddened cheeks. “It can’t be here yet- we just got a dog and it’s only been eight months and I-I don’t know if I’m ready…” 

But he knows just what to say. Of course he does. He even brings Moose in to say hello and prove he has relaxed a lot since his first arrival.

He’s with you when you break, sobbing that you can’t push anymore, your forehead falling against his in pure exhaustion. “Shut up, stupid.” He scolds gently, earning a confused look from you. “You know damn well you’re the strongest woman alive and you can do goddamn anything. It’s one of the many reasons I fell for ya’. Now push, before I name this baby Hoagy after it’s Godfather.” 

He’s there when she’s born, such a tiny little thing, a month early but just as healthy as if she were overdue. He’s got that smug look on his face when Strauss announces her arrival, the loudest silent ‘I told you so’ you’ve ever seen. 

Arthur holds his daughter in his arms for the first time on Christmas Day, his eyes glistening in the candlelight. 

“She’s… She’s perfect. She’s so perfect…”

Your energy is depleted, truly, after so many hours of labour, but you manage to sit up against the makeshift crate headboard to watch your husband and daughter meet each other.

Her tiny hands reach out for Arthur, holding onto his cheek and if you could freeze time forever and live in this moment, you would.

“You’re incredible, you know that?” Arthur whispers, shifting to kiss her palm, “Isn’t she?”

“I mean… she is, but I was talkin’ to you.” He looks up at you and you decide not to mention the tear tracks you spot on his skin.

“Oh, hush…” There’s an attempt to wave him off, but your shaky limbs don’t quite manage.

“No, I mean it. You… You’ve given me everything. I never knew I wanted to be a dad, but now she’s here and I’m holdin’ her I…” He’s choking up in a way you’ve never seen before. The great outlaw Arthur Morgan, who has killed and robbed and beaten, breaking in front of you in the most beautiful, vulnerable way imaginable. “It’s everything. I can never thank you enough. This is the best gift I could ever get, my beautiful, amazing wife.”

His words radiate through you, relaxing your spine and calming each ache bringing life to the world has given you. You can feel your eyelids get heavier by the second and it gets harder and harder to fight the sleep you so desperately need.

“Arthur?” You’re barely audible, but Arthur is sat close enough to hear you,

“Uh huh?”

“We don’t have to name her Hoagy, do we?”

“We’ll talk about it later, angel.”

[yanderepuck]

We're actually going to bully everyone.

Today's list is: something I hate about every guy bc some of you tend to think I only hate on Arthur.

Aka mainly just saying what I don't like about each guys route and why I wouldn't date them

Napoleon

He gets assigned as your bodyguard and he says that you're a waste of his time. FINE BY ME. BYE. DON'T TALK TO ME.

Mozart

Basically the same thing. "I don't like you. No one wants you here. And you're too loud" well damn bitch do you think anyone wants you here either?

Leonardo

WILL YOU STOP CARRYING ME EVERYWHERE LIKE A FUCKING CHILD. IM GOING TO MAKE THIS EXPERIENCE HORRIBLE FOR THE BOTH OF US. I DO HOLD A GRUDGE. Also....BITE MEEEE

Vincent

What could you hate about him? Honestly he's so positive it's toxic. It's not good to see the bright side of EVERYTHING. He'd sorta invalid negative emotions and be like "well just be happy!"

Theo

There's more than you think. I see you shirtless, and you don't want me to tell anyone about the scar so you make me work with you?? No no no. I'm going to use it as blackmail and you're going to do what I want. It makes no sense having him blackmail you. MEANWHILE YOU BARELY EVEN NOTICE THE SCAR. WTF ARE YOU GOING TO SAY?

Arthur

Do I even need to say. First off, he won't take no for an answer. You sleep around with different women like 3 times a week so I'm assuming you have commitment issues bc it's almost never the same woman. What kind of STDs are in you

Isaac

Please don't treat me like I'm a dumbass when I don't understand you spitting out chemistry formulas. You obviously want to be noticed as the smartest one around

Dazai

There's a lot more wrong than you'd think. Stop talking in fucking riddles. You're depressed? IM DEPRESSED BRO YOU CHOSE TO COME BACK AND LIVE A SECOND TIME SO DO SOMETHING WITH IT.

Jean

Why the FUCK DID YOU BITE ME. And how the FUCK DID YOU NOT GET IN TROUBLE. I WILL BEST YOU WITH YOUR OWN SWORD

Will

You're literally ratting out your 'family' for what??? An idea for a play??? Wtf is it going to be about?? Just move back into the mansion and you'll get plenty of writing content just from what you overhear. Also that notebook??? Now that I'm living here I'm reading the whole thing as if it's a novel

Comte

You're way too much of a dad figure for me to ever fall for you. Stop trying to be mysterious and trying to make a little plan on your head and then never talk about your feelings.

Sebastian

Flick me one more time and I'm going to deck you, you twink. Also reading your notebook like it's a New York Times bestseller. He needs a different hobby other than being a stalker. He's honestly boring. You're from modern times but you never talk about your actual interests

Vlad

First off, you're literally killing your kids. Second, how could you not tell that I'm the one in the painting. It's nearly identical. Also I don't understand your plan at all. Makes almost no sense to me. Go big and kill the humans or go home bud.

Faust

YOU KIDNAPPED ME. DRANK MY BLOOD. THREATENED EVERYONE I LIVED WITH. AND YOURE TRYING TO TELL ME YOU AREN'T A BAD GUY?????

Charles

Babies route isn't out yet therefore he's perfect.

Actually tho: can't say anything about his route but he's giving yandere vibes to the point where he'd probably hurt himself if you told him to bc he loves you so much.

[themultifandomgal]

Shelby Sister- Let’s Get Drunk

From as far back as I can remember I have always been like a mother hen to my siblings. Especially for Ada and Finn after our mother died and father skipped out on us. Growing up my older brothers Tommy and Arthur helped our parents to look after me. When John was born I was so excited to have a younger sibling and now it's my turn to help take care of the family.

Groaning I finish cleaning up after tonight's supper. I hear Finn running down the stairs squealing

"Finn calm down" I shout out to him

"But Tomorrow it's my birthday!" the 3 year old yells running into the kitchen where I'm stood drying the dishes

"I know but you've just had your supper. I don't want you to be sick"

"I won't" he beams up with a smile. The door opens then slams shut, Ada. I place down the towel and cross my arms as my younger sister walks into the kitchen as well

"You missed supper" I raise an eyebrow

"So? I'm 13 now YN I can do what I want"

"Within reason. You didn't tell any of us where you were going or who with"

"YN will you stop worrying I'm fine"

"Stop worrying? That's all I do about you all, you Finn, John, Tommy and Arthur. I worry all damn day!" I shout

"I'm home now aren't I?"

"Not the point Ada"

"Your not mum YN so stop acting like her!Im going to bed" Ada turns around and takes herself upstairs. I do my best to stop the tears from falling

"And that's where you should be" I point to Finn who groans in response "now please"

"Fine"

I sit down with a sigh after putting Finn to bed and making sure Ada is also in her room. I close my eyes feeling mentally exhausted. The tears I have been holding in finally roll down my face. I don't even hear the front door opening until I hear Tommy and Arthur laughing as they walk into the house. I quickly wipe the tears away and put on a fake smile

"What's wrong?" John asks straight away obviously noticing that I'm upset. He's always been able to do that, notice when I'm off. It's like I can't ever hide my true feelings from him. I know there's not point saying 'I'm fine' or 'nothings wrong' because he will know I'm lying

"Just... I don't really know. I'm exhausted and Finn and Ada aren't helping things"

"What 'ave they been doing?"

"You want me to have a word with them?" Tommy asks

"No. It's fine. Finns just seems to have loads of energy andAda's going through the teenage phase. Shouted at me earlier"

"What did she say?" Arthur asks

"Told me I'm not mum and to stop acting like her"

"That's it, I'm having a chat with her" Tommy starts to walk towards the stairs

"Tom it's fine"

"Why don't we go out tomorrow night? Take Ada and Finn to Aunt Polly's and we will all go the the Garrison"

"I'd like that" I give my brothers a little smile.

The following evening I take Finn and Ada to Polly's and meet John, Tommy and Arthur at the pub. Tommy immediately gets me a whiskey as I sit down

"It's good to be out" I sigh

"It's good seeing you out" John says giving me a smile. Tommy comes back handing me the whiskey

"Let's get drunk" I shouts downing my drink in one.

[the0retically]

The Suckening thoughts-#6 Meet Your Maker:

Spoilers below but my god that was a cool episode

- The intros get crazier and crazier and I love it

- Part 2?? Oh!! Goodness I have no idea how many episodes there will be of this and I’m so Scared because they all said it emotionally destroyed them

- …why are they spending this long on this intro,,,,please

- GOD THE MUSIC SLAPS SO MUCH NATHAN HANOVER THANK YOU FOR MAKING AN AMAZING SCORE

- GREFGORE NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO CHARLIE PLEASE

- Emizel’s “I HAVE QUESTIONS!” makes me So sad

- “Arthur do you see Grefgore anywhere?” SHILOOOOOOO :((((((

- “Arthur please just wait for like 45 minutes” “….is there a pet store nearby” PLEASE??

- SIBLING BONDING EXERCISE!!

- God why are they going back in????

- Ok yeah cat emizel, he has claws

- This is a nightmare what the hell, but good! Go get Grefgore!

- SHILO?? GO WITH YOUR BROTHER

- They’re just redoing it??????? Y’all pleaseeeeee…Charlie’s just like “yeah this will be Exactly the same!!”

- “What is another life for Grefgore!” Shilo I love you, thank god you’re going to try and get him

- And god emizel is Alone what the hell

- And they had to leave Condi alone goodness

- NO! THATS THE QUESTION HE WANTS ANSWERED?? brooooooo

- Ok that entire exchange made me so sad, he lost when him and the demons got their hideout, sure he was able to get Grefgore back (LETS GOOOOOOOOO!!!!!) but he Still does not have an answer to why he was abandoned and Shilo got to stay :((((( emizel buddy :(((

- Rip Arthur Petco is closed

- BIZLY IS SO HAPPY ABOUT GREFGORE BEING BACK!

- ……….weird digital glitching?? Excuse me?

- Also god why is Shilo’s aura mortal

- Awwwwwww shilo goes to hug grefgore!!

- “Can vampires regrow their heads?” “……………….what?” Oh god Grizz please don’t cut grefgore’s head off

- “Permission to hug you back my prince?” “Of course!” “Big day for grefgore!” PLEASE :)))

- “You still have many hours for the night” “is that true?” “….yeah?? No! You caught me in one of my DM lies!” iconic exchange

- Oh my god what is happening with this poor nurse, just let her go!!

- Oh god now this has become a sitcom bit what is happening, shilo is just concerned for this woman’s life but emizel and Arthur are trying to get her to get Vanya’s schedule

- :( Arthur telling the boys they don’t have to come with is Very sad

- “If Grefgore is truly a burden to you then I shall go get blood” GREFGORE NO YOURE NOT A BURDEN

- No vents? Damn rip

- Thank god no Arthur frenzy

- LAZARUS????? WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE

- He’s in the toilet???

- Oh a little family reunion!

- ……….why is this sus, is that really Lazarus?

- WHY IS HE PUSHING A PHEASANT THROUGH THE TOILET PORTAL?

- Charlie’s curse as a DM is just making insane animal noises

- …..is shilo allergic to birds?? Why is he sneezing bizly please let him enjoy the bird

- “Well it is what it is!” LAZARUS PLEASE

- The chaos of the twins to the seriousness of Arthur is Such a juxtaposition

- Oh…Arthur killed his family, god this is heartbreaking

- “Why did you use me?” “Because it was the most effective way” GOD PLEASE

- God props to Charlie and Grizz for this whole interaction, I love this

- OH STAKE RIGHT THROUGH HER HEART

- Arthur popping off, it’s incredibly sad but good for you! Burn her!!!!!! She’s the reason your family is dead, kill her!!!!

- Arthur I love you I’m so sorry your life has been this tragic

- EMIZEL DID NOT ANSWER AND SAY “YELLOW?”

- Jonny???? Oh god, why is there a hit on the demons??

- Thank god soda isn’t there! Please Charlie say soda isn’t there

- HA GRIZZ REALIZING THAT EMIZEL FORGOT THE GANG WAS SO GOOD

- But emizel remembers Theo at least!! That’s good!

- SHILO IS GETTING THE OLD PEOPLE TO BEAT UP EMIZELS SIRE????? IM CRYING OH MY GOD

- What???? Metal???? What is up with this vampire

- Please tell me emizel isn’t going to die again

- Why did they leave Grefgore behind???

- “YOU SHOULD’VE JUST LET ME SUCK YOU MAN!” “WELL I’M SORRY I SUCKED BACK!” ????????

- SHILO RALLY THE OLD PEOPLE!!!!!

- Charlie is that old man Earl????

- EMIZEL IS DEAD AGAIN??????

- “The Wylan twins send their regards” ??????? HUH??

- Shilo is just a sweet boy :( but GET OUT OF THERE

- SHILO GETS HIT TOO?

- “Next session is going to be the adventures of Arthur and Grefgore!”

- Shilo please get out of there

- GOOD RUN!! GET OUT OF THERE

- SHILO PLEASE YOU CANNOT DIE

- WHAT THE HELL

- TAKE GOD FOR REFLEXIVE HEALING

- MINUS FIVE TO EVERY ROLL??

- HE MADE IT! HE SACRIFICED THE OLD PEOPLE HES BLEEDING OUT BUT HES OK!!

- EMIZEL HI??

- Get out of the sun my boy!!

- Oh,,,,,,,oh no?? He has no arms or legs oh my god, he’s tied to a chair and his mouth is sewn shut????

- HORROR HORROR HORROR

- CHARLIE WHAT THE FUCK

- WHAT THE HELL??

- I don’t know why this encounter with the twins and emizel is the most terrified I’ve been with Charlie dming, holy shit

- WAIT EDWARD TWILIGHT?????? WHAT THE FUCK?????

- Emizel I love you, biting off your own tongue to spit at them is amazing he’s so iconic

- Viv and Vex,,,,,interesting

- GOD EMIZEL I LOVE YOU YOURE BADASS

- 7! God please don’t lose more I’m getting scared

- BUT GOD A GREAT EPISODE

[becauseplot]

finished ep 10 of osnf (long post under the cut oh lord)

crying sobbing kicking over chairs screaming CELLBIT IS AN EVIL EVIL MAN WHY WOULD HE DO THAT. FOR WHAT REASON. POR CUAL RAZÓN. LO ODIO. <-said with the utmost adoration and respect of a writer but the fury of a fan who just had to endure all of that my hearttttt 0(-(

god fuck i have thoughts and feelings regarding episode 10 of osnf. obviously. i don't even know how to start.

okay. first of all the way that he was able to orchestrate the like 57839 different POVs of the nightmare happening at the same time was actually pretty smooth, all things considered. being able to forcibly mute/deafen the others is a good thing to be able to do yesyes.

second, im losing my mind over how he hides the fact that "it's all a dream" WITHIN the "it's all a dream" trope by having the creatures be manifestations of dreams/guilt in "reality" themselves. idk if i'm making any sense, but like, you get it, right? like, it's the fact that we thought we had already discovered the dream-based deceit in the segment because of what the "Hotelier" told Joui at the start of it, but it turns out that THAT was a red-herring of sorts for the TRUE dream-based deceit, that EVERYTHING was a dream, not just the creatures. god there are fucking layers to this im foaming at the mouth that's soooo good.

i guess that's what makes the "it's all a dream"-style trope present here feel less cliche. because, you know, it is a trope, and it's not really a trope that i'm fond of, but because there's actually more going on, it feels less cheap. what certainly helps is that the fact that it's roleplay, so the reactions from the characters are so much more raw, and there are some irl stakes (character dead = out of the series = can't play anymore). that definitely keeps you on the edge of your seat.

edit: something i forgot to mention—what i dislike abt the “it’s all a dream” trope the most is that it is very easily something that can be so, so cheap. all angst, no stakes or consequences, no lasting impact on the plot on the characters. however, not only is there a “physical” impact via several characters losing SHITLOADS of sanity (something not easily recovered) but we get to see a little more into the psyche of the characters. which i suppose is often the point of the “it’s all a dream” segments, but this dream—one with a lot of references to past major character death and itself contains major character death—rings especially true for the themes of the series: the world they live in is dangerous, and the work they do is lethal. people have and will die. and they do and will feel guilty, reguardless if they are at fault. it’s not a horrifying death dream just for the sake of being a death dream, it feels grounded in their reality, and i love that.

third, man he did not hold back. when Arthur was being beaten to a pulp by not!Brúlio, i was actually in shock, i was screaming. plus, i think the fact that Cellbit rolled a 001 when not!Brúlio attacked actually helped to hide the fact that this was a dream. it made it look like it was bad luck rather than the segment was designed to kill the characters (well, at least until he revealed that the damage was 1d4+1d6, but i'll get to that later).

gosh the narration of how not!Brúlio killed Arthur. holy shit. i don't. i don't even have words, that is DEVASTATING. that is probably one of the worst ways for a person to go. i know it's a dream but if i were Arthur i would be emotionally fucked up beyond belief. beaten to a bloody pulp by the father who once loved you so much, screaming at you for abandoning him and that it's your fault he died a horrible death. and then he drops your body on the ground like you're nothing but a pile of useless meat. god. damn.

and then Liz. ohhhh Liz. i just. i was devastated. her whole struggle with Alex, the man she treated so horribly. yes it's true the real Alex never would have said these things to you, but how do you know he wasn't thinking it? that he didn't want to? that what not!Alex says doesn't hold some truth? christttt. and of course the way she dies: in complete agony. and did she forgive herself? because, unlike with not!Brúlio, the creature turned into that weird wispy black thing just as she died, and i would assume that means she forgave herself (if those rules even apply considering this was all a result of the parasite's deceit (holy hell my brain is melting i am the man with the hand on the conspiracy board)).

fourth: the 1d4+1d6 thing! when he read that out, i was stunned. that is a LOT of damage considering all of the characters have ~10 HP. with an extreme roll, that's basically an insta-kill, or it's easily a two-hit-kill. i thought Arthur was unlucky, but when Liz also went down, i was---well, devastated, at first, because that's Liz, she's my absolute favorite and i love her, but i started going through all five stages of grief at once, and at some point i arrived at "no that can't be right" because Cellbit is a good writer. and to deliberately construct a scenario where it would be VERY hard for a character to survive while still in the middle of the story? yeah. and yknow the fact that there's still 6 other episodes fhdsjk. (then again the series continues regardless if a character dies and i haven't looked at other episodes' thumbnails or anything like that for this exact reason. so. i was going in as blind as i could reasonably be.)

in any case, realizing and connecting all of this and then hearing the "Hotelier" start yelling at Joui right after Liz died explicitly blaming him for it sealed it for me: this is a trick of some sort. this is a dream sequence of some sort. these aren't real deaths. (a smaller part of me was still scared that they were real because i know that Cellbit does not shy away from killing off his players' characters, if op and opq are anything to go by. but i digress.)

and then the characters turned to black goo. and i just about threw my computer. rip Luba who got absolutely targeted by the GM lmfao.

anyway uhhh that's about it regarding the dream sequence! loving luzidius!joui and how he just keeps switching back and forth. ((and it further supports my little side-theory that the mysterious blond woman last seen with Team Kelvin was a luzidious we win these.)) i was surprised to see Liz thinking it was so cool when she's been so suspicious of everything in Santo Berco since she got here, but i think she could definitely be using it as a distraction from what she just went through, and honestly she's just happy to see Joui is okay. (the way she gave on up words and just hugged him, the way she held his face in her hands, the way she dragged him down the hall to show Thiago and Thiago was just telling her to fuck off (/aff) because he was getting dressed, my heartttt i love these three, mentor-mentee dynamics my fucking beloved)

also new outfits! sweet! istg the new outfits are so Cellbit's way of apologizing for putting his friends through that. "hey sorry i killed your character in the most emotionally devastating way possible it will happen again wOAH LOOK AT THESE NEW CLOTHES AREN'T THEY SO COOL YOU SHOULD TRY THEM ON!!!"

i've been having mixed feelings about the sudden setting/genre change since the group arrived in Santo Berco. i really, really loved the urban horror-fantasy vibe that they had going on in op and the first 8 eps of osnf, but evidently, this is good as well. the genre is most definitely still horror yippee. i definitely miss the urban-modern setting, but i think i can get adjusted to this. (i'm just,,, not the biggest fan of the auto-heal crystals im sorry i had to say it they feel too op i know their use is limited to visiting the doctor but knowing they exist lowers the in-world stakes for me im sorry---)

anyway, ep 10! you beautiful monster! i have been typing for an hour! i need to go eat food! k bye!