#hence how it spurred on my usual long tags

[wizkiddx]

Hiii I really love your work! Could you write about Tom secretly or not secretly watching yoi have a Zoom Uni class? And maybe he teases you in a way, trying to make you laugh or he sends you text messages or something? And later when you're done and he has a meeting,you tease him right back?

Hope you're having a lovely day 💞

a/n hey anon!! this was a really cute idea but I have another req for the vice versa bit, so only did the first half in this- I hope u don't mind :)

warnings: implied smut at the end but rlly just a fluffy cringe fest

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Early mornings where never you’re favourite and this one wasn’t an exception to the rule. The LA sun was flooding through the curtains that had been hurriedly thrown almost-closed last night as you huffed into the duvet. You needed to get up - but you definitely didn’t want to. To be fair, you’d only arrived the day before and were still acclimatising to the jet lag - though Tom’s presence certainly made everything alot easier.

Especially as you’d been without him for so long, the pandemic meaning you hadn’t been able to make the long-weekend trips you usually would’ve. So when at the beginning of may, Tom had offered for you to come out and stay with him for half the summer (while he was busy working). There was only really one answer…. free holiday with the absolute specimen of a human who you call your boyfriend? Yes please.

It did mean though, that you had flown out before the end of the semester. Only by a week and it didn’t make much difference because you only had a few zoom lectures - but they were compulsory. So even if you were living in the US, you had to follow your UK school timetable. Hence why you had to get up at 6:30, to make your UK time 14:30 lecture.

The arms around you seemed to have other ideas, huffing and only pulling you tighter when you tried to wriggle out of his embrace. You groaned in annoyance, mainly because he was making it more and more tempting to stay huddled up against him.

“Toooooommm I gotta get up” Clearly not agreeing, he just squeezed you to his chest tighter, whilst emphatically shaking his head - all with his eyes still firmly pressed shut.

“Let go! I have a lecture!” Still not letting up , he just shook his head once again - making his bed hair especially wild as it dragged against the linen pillows.

With a sigh you turned in his death grip, now being able to see his puffy morning eyes pressed firmly shut. First you arched up and pressed a soft kiss to his chin, then jaw and then nose.

“Seriously T, I need to show up to this one.” Because yes, you might’ve already had an absence from yesterday, where you had both slept through the alarm.

“-o it-’” Croaking so much so you couldn’t even puzzle out what he said, the man cleared his throat before trying again, the sound reverberating in his chest. “ uhmm do it from bed, don’t go.”

That had you pouting at his cuteness. Ever since you’d arrived he’d been unbelievable clingy to you, barely letting you out of his sight. You showered together; he sat and stared whilst you did your skin care routine; even at restaurants he insisted on sitting next to you with his hand on your knee. When you had asked him, the only reasoning you got was a shrug and a muttered ‘I missed you’. Never, ever would you complain about Tom’s attention. But…. you really needed to get to your laptop.

“I can’t babe thats not very profess-“

“-wont even be able to tell.”

As much as you tried, you couldn’t ever really deny Tom anything. Not when he cracked his eyelids open, revealing the softest warm brown eyes, coupled with a lazy smile. So yes, you ended up quickly getting changed into one of Toms old burgundy tops, running a brush through your frizzy hair and then clambering back into bed. You balanced your laptop on a tray on top of a box, so the angle was less obvious that your backdrop was a headboard. Instantly Tom had half-asleep turned over to lay his messy head on your lap. And with a half sigh half laugh, you logged on- once in the waiting room bringing a hand down to trail your nails through Tom’s hair which made him groan with delight.

It was all going so well too, up the point where breakout rooms were announced and you had to talk - your chipper voice and laughs with your course mates rousing Tom from his sleep. Every time he almost lifted his head into the view of the webcam, you were very quick to slam it back down, forcing him back onto your lap.

Eventually he got bored of the restrictions, as well as not being very into the history module you were all puzzling over- so slid out of bed into the shower. Once he was gone you did almost sigh in relief, you had thought that Tom in his friendly-idiot manner would end up getting you caught at some point. Especially as our relationship was so secretive, none of your course mates knew you weren’t single - imagine their shock if an a lister popped up in the zoom class.

But oh, the relief did not last long at all.

The issue was Harry had gone out for the day. It was just you and Tom in his fancy rented LA house. And, as mentioned, Tom was being clingy as hell. It couldn’t of been more than 20 minutes before the fluffy haired brunette was back in the room - pouting when he saw you still on the computer.

Even though you shooed him away, Tom just cocked his head to one side, a small smirk on his face. And you knew. You knew he was going to be a little shit. He slinked over the bed, perching at the foot next to where your feet lay.The warning look you shot him, metaphorical daggers coming out your eye did absolutely nothing - you watched his hand pin your right ankle down before stroking the sole of your foot. Familiar shivers shot up your leg and it took everything in you to not kick out, launching the laptop across the room as tickled you.

Soon though he stopped, you pulled yourself into a cross legged position, readjusting the laptop and trying to concentrate back on the lecturer. Seeing your disinterest, Tom hopped up off the bed and you thought he was leaving. But no. No you were wrong. He just stood at the foot of the bed, hands on hips as he appeared to listen intently to the lecturer too.

Clearly Tom was an actor, he was pretty good at accents. You should’ve known he wouldn’t be able to resist the impersonating your academic staff - who happened to have a strong Somerset accent.

Pretending to ignore Tom as he hunched up and widened his stance - to imagine the physicality of your lecturer- you narrowed your eyes at the computer screen. Then though, a deep booming farmer-like voice came out your well spoken south london boy - god you were glad you’d stuck the mute button on as soon as he had entered.

“And then as your reading in chapter twel-“

“And then as yowr readinf in chapter twelve….” Tom echoed the lecturer loud and proud, making it completely impossible for you to attempt to concentrate. As much as you wanted to be furious at him- well, all it took was one look.

He was holding his face in some sort of duck pout and all the movements were extra pronounced and exaggerated. You couldn’t help it- instantly you burst out laughing, having to turn off the video for fear of anyone noticing.

Seeing he’d got a rise out of you, Tom was only spurred on, continuing the dramatic acting with a new found confidence. That was until you got yourself under control, face turning like a switch from joy to fury.

“Shut the hell up!”

And he did, for a few minutes, whilst pouting like a told-off toddler. In a strop, he sat down, shoulders slumped at the edge of the bed. Oh how wrong your were, when you thought you’d won - with a satisfied smile concentrating back on the laptop screen. Just in time to hear the lecturer FINALLY starting to rounding up the lecture.

“Alright so next session we’re-“ Before he’d even stammered his way to the end of the sentence, Tom’s face had switched up once again - into one of mischief as he started crawling up the bed either-side of your legs. One strong arm reached out to touch the back of your laptop lid and before you could protest he was pushing it down, till it landed with a small ‘clunk’.

“You did not just do that!” Yelling at him, you sat up so now he was kneeling across your lap.

“But I just did.” He mimed a mic drop which had you cringing hard, staring at him in disbelief. Okay the lecturer was beginning to round off, but that conclusion could’ve gone on for 5 minutes at least!

“Oh you are so in for it Holland.”

You’d meant it as a threat, as a sort of ‘I’m-going-to-make-your-life-a-living-hell” but the bright eyed boy before you had other plans. Wordlessly he nodded, then placed your laptop on the bedside ; then pushed you down on the bed. His legs either side of you, his arms like rockets to pin yours either side your head.

“Ah but you see my love…” he tutted, with a wide smile, hhis breath fanning down onto you as he took your breath away. “That is exactly what I want.” Immediately his lips were on yours, the both of you fighting for dominance as you arched your head up to get extra purchase on him.

“I hate… I hate you… so bloody much” It was hard to talk when his intoxicating lips were moving against yours, melting away all your resistance.

“Hmmm… well its… its a good thing… that I love you.”

He was impossible and no doubt you’d missed the prep work for tomorrows lecture. But having him there, body pressed against yours, after months apart.

Well, you wouldn’t mind failing the module for him.

~~~~ let me know what you think <333~~~~

tag list : @thefernandasantana @lovehollandy12 @hallecarey1 @crossyourpeter @hollandfanficlove @msmimimerton @thegirlwiththeimpala

[redeadepression]

Men, Not Books | John Marston x Abigail Roberts Marston

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Relationships: John Marston x Abigail Roberts Marston Characters: John Marston, Abigail Roberts Marston Words: 6037 Tags: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Past Child Abuse, Past Prostitution Warnings: Heavy angst, mentions of past child abuse

Summery: Abigail can read John like an open book. But on this particular night there is something in his eyes that she can't understand and it scares her.

~ Basically just an excuse to get all my feels about John being emotionally fragile but never showing it, out on paper. This story is separate to all of my other John/Abi works. I consider the characters in this story to probably be as close to canon as I've ever written. So enjoy!

The fact that John is so ‘expressive’ was inspired by this post and I would like to thank this post for bringing John’s erratic stride to my attention.

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Abigail Roberts could not read.

It was a well-known fact that was established early on in her time with the Van der Linde gang.

Letters and symbols bounced around the page in front of her eyes and no amount of tutelage had ever improved her grasp.

She had learned to live with it. Deciding that she didn’t need to know what the words said as long as she could look through the pictures.

The books that had pictures anyway.

She often borrowed books from Hosea. Flipping through them and spending ages staring at the pages despite not understanding them. It was a nice distraction from the goings on of the camp.

Abigail sighed languidly, leaning back against the wall atop her bed at Shady Belle. The jagged hole in the wall behind her snatching at the hair of her bun and causing her to growl in protest.

She placed the book she had been looking at on the bed beside her and twisted awkwardly to untangle herself from the broken wood. Sighing in exasperation as she removed the ribbon holding her hair in place and let it fall around her shoulders.

She raked her fingers through is carefully, trying to remove the knots without needing to get up and find a brush.

Jack was sleeping peacefully on the floor beside her and she’d prefer not to disturb him if she could help it.

She felt her ears prick as footsteps on the stairs caught her attention. Heavy boots that she knew belonged to one of the three men sleeping in the top story of the old house alongside her.

She knew it was John from the sound of his footsteps. Spurs jiggling as he stepped hard against the floor without care for anyone that might be sleeping below.

Dutch had a strong gait and Arthur was a bulky man that found it hard to be quiet. But no one else walked quite like John. The way he put his hips into his stride. Feet landing purposefully but barely picking up again as his heel scraped each stair with his step.

For a fleeting moment she thought about feigning sleep. Not really in the mood to speak with him and unable to put her finger on why.

She decided against it. Instead brushing out the crinkles in her nightshirt before pulling her hair back into a loose pony tail and waiting patiently for John’s heavy steps to make their way passed her. The old door creaking as he pushed it opened, stepping inside and catching her eye as she looked to him with disinterest.

He stared at her for a second, seeming shocked to find her there.

Abigail frowned at the look on his face. He should not have been surprised to find her in bed at this hour.

Something was wrong.

She opened her mouth to speak and was alarmed when he started to move towards her. Stepping carefully over Jack and settling himself on the edge of the bed in front of her.

He stared at the hem of her nightshirt, not making eye contact as Abigail pushed herself into her knees and inched towards him.

Frightened.

“What’s wrong?” She asked, concern in her tone at the look in his eyes.

He was silent. Her anxiety increasing exponentially with every second of silence.

John slowly reached out, taking her hand in his and resting them together in her lap without speaking. Abigail swallowed audibly, her frayed nerves screaming for him to talk.

“John?” She asked eventually, urgent. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He answered with a small shrug, exhaling shakily as he continued to stare at the loose threads on the hem of her shirt.

The furrow of Abigail’s brows deepened as she squeezed his hand tightly in hers and waited for him to say more. Her heartrate dropping slightly as she let go of her breath.

No one was dead at least.

She realised as she looked him up and down. John was a man of few words. He was straightforward when it came to giving bad news. Short and to the point. No dancing around the truth if he knew it to be absolutely correct.

Still, she was concerned.

It wasn’t like him to want to be this close to her. Usually, he could barely stand the sight of her. It was only recently that he had moved herself and Jack back into his living quarters and even then, they hardly said a word to one another.

“What’s wrong?” She asked again, softer. Her free hand coming up to tenderly push the messy hair out of his face. He didn’t flinch away as she expected him to. Her tender touch rousing something inside him as he leaned toward it with enthusiasm.

She let her hand fall to his forehead, subconsciously feeling for a fever as he rested against her palm.

Perhaps he wasn’t feeling well.

He wasn’t usually one to show his vulnerability if he could help it. But he did have a certain childish quality to him when he’d been struck down by sickness.  

He didn’t feel any warmer than normal.

Slowly she removed her touch and let her hand fall back to her lap. Surprised when John leant forwards. Resting his forehead on her shoulder and sighing deeply as he closed his eyes.

Abigail wasn’t sure what to do. He hadn’t embraced her in months. Not that she’d have let him if he’d tried. She was still pissed off about being treated like a burden.

“John?” She asked in quiet exasperation as he changed his position to nuzzle at her neck. “What is this?” She asked, tone gentle as he paused his ministrations and she felt him sigh deeply against her pulse point.

“I don’t know.” He whispered, his free hand slowly slipping around her waist as he inched closer once more. “I don’t know…” He repeated softly, eyelashes fluttering against her jawline as he inhaled sharply.

He let go of her hand suddenly and she felt it brush past her cheek before it joined his other hand, locking her into a hug just below her chest. He buried his face in her shoulder abruptly, eyes closed against the fabric.

John sniffed softly, a sound she had heard a thousand times before but never truly in this context. She licked her lips, tongue sucking silently on her teeth before she dared to glance to her side.

She couldn’t see much of John from her angle. A dirty mop of black hair obscured her vision. Hiding his face from her and rendering her useless at understanding what exactly was going through his mind.

Abigail may not be able to read literature, but she could read John like the back of her hand. He had always been an open book to her. Showing what he was thinking plainly on his face without ever having to speak. Keeping his emotions locked up deep inside despite the situation. Fearing if people found out that he felt things, he would be labelled weak.

But that had never stopped her from understanding. The way his eyes sparkled when he knew he was about to best someone or the way his lips quirked ever so lightly when he thought someone was being an idiot. A simple scrunch of the nose telling her his real feelings on the food he was consuming.

She could read his mood from across the camp if she had to. Knowing full well exactly how he was going to respond at any given moment by the different ways he cocked his brows.

But this was unique. Something was off and it scared her that she couldn’t read him immediately when he’d entered the room. The look in his eyes was close to fear. Hence her strong reaction to his silence.

She’d seen true fear in him once before. As he’d been searching for Jack at Clemen’s Point. He had told her he was sure it was fine. The panic in his eyes screaming to her that he didn’t believe that. The way his lips had been a thin line before he’d told her that they would find him. Eyes flicking ever so briefly out over the miles of lake they were camped next to.

The small swallow that he had thought he’d concealed. The way his Adam’s apple bobbed ever so slightly as he’d taken a moment to breathe.

The shake in his exhale.

She had known from the second she’d seen his face that he believed the boy was dead.

Drowned or taken by coyotes.

He had never needed to speak a word to strike such white-hot terror into her heart.

Abigail was brought back to reality abruptly as John’s hand curled in her shirt. His knuckles scraping lightly against the small of her back as he pulled the fabric taught. Unmoving otherwise and causing another thorn of worry to settle in the pit of her stomach.

It hadn’t been fear that she’d seen in his eyes. But something close to fear.

Perhaps sadness. She mused as she moved her hands to stroke lightly up and down his sides.

He shifted under her touch, breath hitching momentarily before he managed to return to a normal rhythm.

Abigail smiled to herself, knowing he could not see. She knew that sound well, although it had been a long time since she had heard it.

John always had some measure of sadness in his eyes. It was the first thing she’d noticed about him when they’d met. The way he looked at her, with wide, expressive eyes filled with sadness. He reminded her of a kicked pup.

At the time she’d found it endearing.

But she had soon learned where all that sadness had stemmed from. Mostly filled in by other camp members and a little from John himself after a few drinks. He’d had it rough, same as her. But he never could quite shake the sorrow that was tied to abusive childhood like she’d managed to. It followed him into adulthood and lorded over every happy moment of his life.

He never spoke of it. Never intentionally brought attention to the way he felt.

He had his feelings under lock and key. Not even the drink could fully open him up to his grief.

Abigail’s hands wandered slowly up his sides and around to his back. Petting him softly with delicate strokes up and down his spine and around his shoulder blades.

She felt him loosen under her touch. Not realising how ridged he had previously been as she felt him start to sink lower. Melting against her like a candy on a hot day.

“You okay?” She asked, deciding to try one more time to gently prod it out of him. She felt him shrug once more and she resigned herself to never knowing what had gotten into him. Leaning her head against his head perched on her shoulder, as she heard him whisper his response.

“Lodnhly.” He mumbled, barely a word as she frowned, trying to understand what he’d said.

“What?” She asked candidly, hands pausing as she felt him sigh heavily under them. This time speaking a little louder as he answered.

“Just… Lonely.” He said quietly, sounding strained by the admission.

“Oh…” Abigail breathed softly. Unsure what to do with the information she had so desperately wanted. John didn’t seem like the kind of man to feel lonesome. Despite his sad eyes he spent most of his time laughing by the fire with the other men in camp. Always heavy on the drink as he stumbled back to his bedroll at some ungodly hour.

She felt John begin to tense again in her arms and felt she needed to say something more. Opening her mouth to speak but closing it again after a while when she realised that for the first time in a long while, he had stumped her.

She’d truly had no idea what he’d been feeling and if she’d had to guess, she would have even put constipated several spaces above lonely.

John let go of her shirt abruptly, pulling away and breaking out of her arms with ease as he shuffled slightly away so they were completely separate once more. Head bowed as he shifted uncomfortably under her gaze and waited for her to speak.

He had never opened himself up to her like that in his life. Never opened up to anyone like that at all, and he knew that she was acutely aware of that fact.

He twisted his hands against the mattress, feeling shame bubbling up inside of him as Abigail continued to stay silent. He’d considered that she might not know what to say and he’d been prepared to reassure her that she didn’t need to say anything. Nothing she could say would make him feel better anyway.

But in the moment he felt sick at the thought of her not replying. Both sitting there in silence until one of them plucked up the courage to leave the situation. He needed her to speak. He was desperate for her to say something.

Anything.

His heart raced.

Just speak.

He silently begged her, heart in his throat.

“Why?” Abigail asked clumsily, making him exhale the breath he hadn’t realised he had been holding.

She watched nervously as he tensed at the question. Seeming to relax a little after a moment. His hands fisting in the bedsheets loosened while her own wrang nervously in her lap.

“I don’t know.” He answered dishonestly. Feeling a lump in his throat that impeded his ability to speak evenly. He had his reasons for the way he felt. But she would never understand them.

Abigail nodded, more to herself than John as he was not looking at her. His long hair still obscuring his face from his place in front of her.

She certainly knew what it was like to feel lonely in life. She felt it more often than not before she’d joined the gang. But since finding them it was few and far between. She still had her bad days, where she felt as though she didn’t fit in. Watching from across the camp as the other women giggled and gossiped. It irritated her to know she would never truly be one of them. She wasn’t a contributing member of the gang. Not in the same way they were. Sure she could cook, sew and occasionally she was asked to do the laundry. But she didn’t run cons or scout out for intel like they did. She wasn’t one of them. She was just John’s wife.

“Well…” Abigail said slowly, unsure if relating to John’s plight would help or hinder their conversation. “I know a thing or two about feeling that way.”

John sniffed softly, not saying anything as he slowly lifted his head to look at her for the first time since he had entered the room.

Abigail held back a gasp. Unable to stop the shock from registered on her face as her eyes flicked over his tear-stained cheeks. She hadn’t realised he’d been crying. For all the times she’d given him a once over and knew exactly what he was feeling, she couldn’t believe she’d been so slack as to miss something as significant as this when it was right in front of her.

She tore her eyes away from him, hand grabbing at the shoulder of her shirt as she pulled it taught and inspected the place where he’d laid his head. The fabric was damp and she was stunned by the realisation. He had been so silent. Showing emotion she had never seen in him right by her face without her even noticing.

She felt sick at the thought. Wondering now if perhaps she had seen him this vulnerable in the past and didn’t recognise it.

Arthur had once told her that John never cried.

Something she found hard to believe. Everyone cried. It was a fact of life. But as the years rolled on and her time with John stretched farther than any other significant relationship she’d ever had she had started to wonder if Arthur was right.

‘If he did, you would never know about it’.

Arthur had stated cryptically.

The words mulling over in Abigail’s mind for years to come. Every time she was sure this would be the moment John finally broke his stoic exterior she was once again proven wrong.

The words echoed in her mind now as she looked over the usually aloof man before her. The pain in his tired eyes spread bare for her to see.

Only her.

She realised as she inched towards him once more. Her hand finding his thigh and squeezing it gently as he collapsed against her rather suddenly. He laid against her chest, his shoulder resting just under her bosom. He rubbed his cheek against her breasts before burying his face in them. His arms crossing over his own chest as hers wrapped around his shoulders to hold him tight against her.

“John…” She whispered breathily. Burning behind her eyes making her blink rapidly as she struggled to hold back her own tears.

He didn’t respond, his uneven breathing the only sign that there was even anything wrong.

A disinterested onlooker would think him asleep in his wife’s embrace.

She supposed that is what he wanted.

“It’s alright…” She cooed, unable to form any other words as her mind raced around this new development.

How many times in the past had he silently wept without her knowledge? Even now, sharing the same room; they didn’t share a bed. John refused, letting her have the mattress while he broke his back on the hardwood floor.

She couldn’t tell if he was still crying. The silence in the room was deafening despite the people flittering through the halls downstairs and the lively party happening at the fire outside. Every now and then John would take a laboured breath and she would run a hand through his hair, stroking him as if she were calming an animal.

Abigail was always a mess when she cried. Loud, wracking sobs that tore at her throat and ripped her breath from her lungs. There wasn’t a hankie large enough to contain the fluids that ran down her face as she howled. Everyone knew when Abigail was crying. There wasn’t a sole within 50ft the didn’t feel her pain as well.

But John…

“Hey?” She asked quietly, her voice broken despite managing to compose herself against her own tears. “Hey?” She asked again, gently tugging at John’s hair until he finally pulled his face away from her chest and looked up at her with red rimmed eyes. “It’s okay.” She assured, cupping his cheek with her hand and using her thumb to swipe away fresh tears.

She leaned down slowly, giving him time to pull away if he wanted to before gently placing a chaste kiss on his cracked lips. He didn’t kiss back, feeling too overwhelmed to respond as she pulled away and smiled at him sadly.

She didn’t take it to heart. She hadn’t really intended anything but comfort with her kiss, but she also understood her own tendency to turn things sexual when she was uncomfortable. Kissing away pain instead of talking it out. Fucking to avoid an awkward conversation.

It was a short-coming of her own that she knew she needed to fix. He needed more from her right now than sex.

John stared at her with heavy lidded eyes. Blinking tiredly before settling himself back against her chest. This time just resting his cheek against her breast and staring at the wall in front of him as he tried to sort out what he was feeling.

“Fuck.” He whispered, voice croaky. He trembled slightly as he pushed himself away from her. Breaking out of her arms again and sitting up on his own once more. His hands finding his face as he rested it in his palms. “Fuck…” He exhaled shakily. Unable to form a coherent thought as the reality of exposing himself to her came crashing down on him.

He had needed the comfort.

Had needed to be held.

There was a large part of him that wished he was still being held. Not wanting to give up the warmth. The all-encompassing sense of calm he felt in her arms.

The safety.

But he had already shown too much of himself and right now he felt a suffocating need to run. To lock up whatever it was that he was feeling and get the fuck away from anyone that had seen him unmasked.

Abigail could sense his impending departure. Feeling it necessary to say something meaningful and assuring him that she didn’t judge him for his emotions.

“Anyway…” John said softly, swallowing hard as he pulled his face from his hands and wiped the tears from his chin with his palm. “I should…” He mumbled, trailing off as he gestured at his bedroll across the room.

“Stay.” Abigail said suddenly, her hand shooting out to hold him in place as he made to stand. He looked at her quizzically. Eyes flicking between her and his bed. His tongue swiped hesitantly over his dry lips as he thought. Weighing the options in front of him and landing at a decision with ease.

“Okay…” He said timidly. Averting his eyes and staring at their joined hands. Maybe just this once he could ignore the screaming in the back of his mind and let himself be soothed.

John wondered absently if she could read his mind. He never had understood how she managed to know just what he was thinking at any given time. Always ready with a counter to his argument or a consoling word on a subject he hadn’t even broached yet.

He was in awe of her ability to understand just what he needed. Irritated at the fact that mostly she ignored it. Knowing full well he wanted to be left alone but following him around regardless and nagging him to no end.

But comforted by the fact that she seemed to care enough to put in the effort of knowing him.

He could not really say the same of anyone else. His own Father had neglected him for years before the old bastard had gotten himself killed. The women at the orphanage he had been moved to shortly after that had been no kinder. Dismissive and noncommittal when it came to calming his anxieties. Lying to his face and repeating the same mantra of ‘You’ll find a family soon’.

After that he had been alone again. Escaping the orphanage and scavenging to survive. He had found out quickly what exactly happened to whiny little street kids that couldn’t hide their sorrows.

Abigail slid herself back against wall of the room, wincing at the feel of her ponytail catching on the broken wood once more. She ignored it, pulling John’s hand as she moved and encouraging him to join her. He followed without thinking about it. Too busy in his past to analyse what was happening in front of his eyes.

Abigail pulled her hair from the wall sharply, deciding it might be nicer to lie down. She slipped herself down and underneath the covers. Waiting for a long second before pulling him to her when she realised he wasn’t going to move on his own accord. His glazed over eyes told her he was stuck somewhere in the past and what he needed from her right now was silence so he could find his way back.

She moved the covers out of the way as he moved to lie against her side. One strong arm being slung over her belly as he nuzzled into her shoulder. She smiled sadly, holding out her arm so he could rest on it. His head fitting snuggly into the crook of her arm as she brushed her soft fingers against his wet cheek.

John remembered his first week with the gang vividly. He had been quietly terrified of these huge brawny men that had rescued him from certain death. Knowing too well at the age of 12 that sometimes people helped you not because they were good people but because you could be of use to them.

He had wondered what they wanted with a scrawny thing like himself. Too small and weak to fight and too big and pigheaded to be worth feeding if he could not be of real use.

Dutch had instilled in him early on that his place in the gang was conditional. He’d never said the words outright, but John had gotten the hint fast when he’s refused to do a ‘women’s chore’ and been very passively threatened with eviction.

‘Well son, I’m just not sure there’ll be enough food for you here if the men don’t have clean clothes by sundown. You may have to find other arrangements that better suit your leisurely lifestyle.’

The words had played over and over in his head for the last 15 years. Every time he found himself feeling that something was unfair. He had remembered those words and the way Dutch had spoken them. Something about that sentence not sitting right with him even now. The gentle reminder that he was expendable.

It Stung.

It had kept him quiet for almost as long as he could remember now. Even as a fully fledged adult that had earned his place in the gang by sheer effort and determination. Behind every compliment or kind word he could feel that lingering threat that if he did not continue to live up to Dutch’s standards he would be out before he could blink.

John inhaled sharply, feeling a sting in the corner of his eyes and closing them against it. He had been warned early on to hide his weakness. His little body sometimes unable to contain the big emotions that came from living in a word that didn’t want him.

He hadn’t needed to be told twice. Just the look in the eyes of the other men as he laid himself bare was enough to shut himself off from ever speaking about his misery again. Bessie had tried to console him but he had been too wary of her intensions to let her.

Terrified that she was just an agent of Dutch. Tasked with finding out his deepest concerns and reporting back to him with how and why John should be punished or evicted.

He regretted that a lot now. Knowing the kind of person she had turned out to be. So kind and full of affection.

He wished now, day in and day out that he had someone he could confide in. Someone that wouldn’t look at him with pity or contempt but the kind of compassion and understanding that Bessie had offered and he had shirked.

He had never pegged Abigail to be that person. Always assuming from her icy demeanour that she would be as cold as the other men. Disgusted even by his lack of self-control.

This wasn’t the first time he’d come to her, pleading for reassurance. But he doubted she knew that as she moved her hand softly from his cheek to drag her sharp nails over his scalp. Making him shiver.

He had tried a few times before. Most recently when they’d been settled at Horseshoe overlook. His insecurities niggling at him after seeing the fresh scars on his face for the first time. Anxiety nipping at the back of his mind until the gentle mumbles of self-doubt and loathing turned to angry shouting that he couldn’t ignore any longer.

He had gone to her in her lean-to. Sitting beside her without speaking and giving her a chance to ask since she alleged to know him so well.

She had not.

Arguing with him instead about his involvement with Jack. As if he needed another reminder of his dubious paternity at such a fragile time in his life.

He silently hoped that the kid wasn’t his anyway. It was the one kindness he could wish on the boy. To not grow up to be the spitting image of his own disgusting face.

He had felt such hatred for her in that moment. Either she didn’t know him as well as she claimed to or she did and she’d ignored his silent pleas for comfort.

He wasn’t sure what was worse.

He had silenced her with a rough kiss that quickly turned into heated touching. Their bodies closer than they had been in months. Arousal getting the best of them both as they rutted together urgently before Abigail had come to her senses and gently pushed him away. Staring into his expressive eyes for a long while before taking his hand and leading him away from all the prying eyes and making him feel better in the only way she really knew how.

The best sex John had ever had, lasting approximately two minutes and finishing as unceremoniously as it had begun in the scrub just shy of Pearson’s wagon.

They hadn’t spoken of it again. Straightening their clothes and parting ways with uneven breaths and ruffled hair.

He hadn’t tried to speak to her about his insecurities again after that. Feeling somewhat consoled by the fact that she’d still found him attractive enough to fuck.

Not that he was sure that meant too much in the grand scheme of things considering her past. She had spent a lot nights with a lot of men considerably uglier than John.

But it comforted him none the less.

John opened his eyes slowly, looking up to her and catching her eyeing him before she looked away quickly. Staring at the ceiling as she petted him distractedly.

“You can come to me you know?” She asked quietly, not looking away from the ceiling as she spoke. He wondered if that was because she felt the need to give him privacy in his response or because she couldn’t stand the sight of him.

He tensed his jaw as he thought. Gritting his teeth together tightly before finally responding.

“Hmm.” He hummed in a noncommittal way. His response able to be taken as either a yay or nay depending on the other person’s perspective.

“When you’re… lonely… I mean.” Abigail hesitated, still staring above her with neutral features.

John didn’t reply, knowing full well that she was wrong but unable to voice that in the moment. Afraid of losing his place by her side as he closed his eyes again and breathed in her sumptuous scent.

He hadn’t intended to come to her in the first place. Walking quickly away from the fire; his back against some playful ribbing from the other men. He couldn’t even remember what it had been about. The teasing hadn’t been what had bothered him anyway. It was the way that Arthur had looked at him when he had opened his mouth to speak that had tripped him up. Made him choke on his words and look like a fumbling idiot in front of the others before he exited the conversation in an effort save what was left of his dignity.

They used to be so damn close.

Closer to brothers than friends. A relationship John cherished above all others he had experienced in his life.

Until he had left and fucked it all up.

He’d known Arthur would be pissed off at him. But to be honest he’d never imagined that he would still be filled with such animosity toward him a whole two years later.

Arthur loathed him. Barely tolerated his presence for years now. It was only just recently that he felt maybe they were starting to reconcile.

But then the other man had looked to him with such disdain. A piercing glare that radiated revulsion that stemmed from his very core.

He’d never really regained his friendship with anyone in the gang and he’d struggled to get to know the newer members.

His saving grace was his relationship with Abigail but even that had been in tatters for longer than it had ever been good.

He was so isolated.

Alone.

In a living space that consisted of over twenty people. Most nights he felt as though he may as well be sitting at an empty fire pit by his lonesome.

Sipping turning in to swigging as he relied on alcohol to dull the pain and loosen his tongue. Making him funny. Turning the miserable cynic that he was into a desirable companion.

John had stared back at Arthur after he had spoken. The other men already beginning to chuckle at his expense while his brother simply smirked at the fractured look on his face. Content with the fact he had made John Marston look as stupid as he always liked to say he was.

It was such a small gesture. But the straw that broke the camel’s back was always light and airy.

John couldn’t take it anymore. His heart breaking as he walked away from the fire to find a place to hide.

He had assumed Abigail would be asleep due to the late hour. Planning to sneak in and out of their room without detection. Grabbing some whiskey from his private stash and taking it somewhere more secluded to reflect on why exactly he felt the way he did.

But he had been wrong. Walking straight in and making eye contact with her before he could retreat. She’d known something was wrong immediately, he could tell. So he’d swallowed his pride and taken the opportunity to try one last time to help her understand him fully. That one small part of himself that she didn’t already just know like she seemed to with all the rest of him.

He wasn’t sure exactly if he was successful or not. Perhaps her understanding and comfort was conditional as everything seemed to be in this world.

Maybe when they awoke in the morning, she would physically push him away as she had so many times before.

Or perhaps he was the one that would push her.

Embarrassment settling in and causing him to withdraw without a word before she awakened. Never speaking of his vulnerability again. At least until the next time unkind words seeped their way into his heart. Blackening it a little bit with every stab.

Abigail let her eyes flutter closed. Her hand falling to rest gently against John’s temple as she took a deep calming breath. He subconsciously followed her lead, his own breathing evening out as he matched her pace. Feeling the rise and fall of her belly under his arm.

He felt calm.

Peaceful.

He realised as he lamented the fact that it would end eventually.

Never one to enjoy a moment as it was happening. Always looking to the future and bemoaning the fact that it would end.

He’d missed her. He had realised it months ago. The bickering before Blackwater had been suffocating to not just the two of them but Jack and the other gang members as well.

But when he’d been up on that mountain, freezing half to death and in more pain than he’d imagined possible he’d longed for her. Wanting nothing more than to be rescued and returned to her arms but knowing deep down that even if he was rescued, he would be returned to the cold embrace of a lonely bed.

Maybe now things would be different.

He dared to hope. Squeezing her waist with a trembling hand as he nuzzled closer to her. Abigail returning the hug without contention.

“I love you.” John finally managed to speak. The words grinding against his throat as he fought to force them out.

Abigail startled as he spoke, turning to him and frowning in question as if she wasn’t sure she had heard him correctly.

Their noses rubbed together lightly as she looked into his eyes. A smile spreading across her gorgeous features as she read the look in his eyes.

“I love you too, you silly man.” She whispered, leaning in once more to kiss him softly. This time he kissed back, hand curling in her nightshirt as things began to get heated.

End.

 ~~~

I hope you guys liked this one! I would love to hear if you did. There's not many John/Abi shippers out there anymore so it's always amazing to hear from the people that take the time to read my works of them. ❤

[9bitghost]

REMEMBER THIS AU???

Took me 2 years, but I’ve finally got everyone’s designs roughed out for my RPG AU!! Some designs gave me a lot of trouble, so I’ll probably change a few in the future, but for now, they’re all based around their outfits in the show. Getting back into this has also got me more into learning about D&D, so classes and subclasses are based on stuff from there and homebrews I’ve found and liked, with some liberties taken for the fun of it. ☆  

I want to write proper backstories for all of them sometime, but until then, classes, alignments, and headcanons are under the cut!! ↓ ↓ ↓ (VERY LONG)

This AU can be set either as its own, or if everyone sat down and played D&D with characters based on themselves. I would love to write fic splicing the two together if I ever get around to it lol

Character Info

David: Ranger/Bard - Champion of Nature (Lawful Good)

S4E7 pretty much laid out his character and class perfectly; David is a Bard at heart, and sought to make people happy with his tricks and performances when he was younger, until he found his true calling in his connection to Mother Nature. His home is wherever he can set up camp and has his heart set on protecting the forests’ natural beauty and integrity from quickly growing cities. Breaks into song at random and dislikes conflict. Prefers to shut fights down though talk and song, but does excel at archery and long-range combat if the need arises.

(tbh, binary-bird’s david design is so much cooler and i was heavily inspired by it, so please just imagine him in that one instead lol)

Gwen: Bard/Cleric - College of Lore (Chaotic Neutral)

In all honesty, Gwen is the most difficult one for me to place in this AU. She strikes me as the one to DM for the kids so Nerris can play, and enjoys creating stories for them, hence why Bard comes as the most natural to class her. An unconventional one, as she’s sharp-tongued, usually straight-faced, and witty in a sarcastic sense. Probably owns a bookshop in her town and writes many of her own books (half of which are erotica and stored in a curtained off area you need a password for). She has a way with words and handles her spear with the same proficiency. Badass fighter if you get on her bad side.

Max: Rogue - Thief/Trap Master (Chaotic Neutral)

Grew up poor and practically on the streets with barely a glance from his parents, Max learned it’s every person for themselves from an early age. Known for being a little shit and a master at picking pockets, MacGyvering traps, and winning bets through words alone. Shitton of knives, prefers throwing them from the shadows. Says he doesn’t care for anyone but himself, but would actually kill a man or 20 for his friends. Met Neil when trying to swindle him out of some expensive potions and wound up traveling with him. Purely for profit at first after hearing about the tech Neil’s in search of, but they ended up clicking and became fast friends (in denial).

Neil: Artificer - Alchemist (Lawful Neutral)

Neil’s family is very well off and many of his relatives are well known scholars; his father being the leading philosopher in their district. Though proud of his family’s and his own scientific accomplishments, Neil became bored of his mundane village and life, and thus set off in search of new scientific discoveries that could land him a place in the history books. Hates combat and stays out of it whenever he can. Sticks to the side lines, crafting bombs, poisons, splash potions, and buffs for the party. Relatively level-headed and often leads the team’s strategies in battle, until things go wild and sends him into a panic.

Nikki: Barbarian/Druid - Path of the Beast Master (Chaotic Good)

Born into a broken family, Nikki fled to the woods at a young age and lost her way home. Found and taken in by a pack of wolves, she quickly answered to the call of Mother Nature and grew into a nomadic lifestyle with her pack. Nikki is a wild one, brandishing her giant axe with ease, communicating with animals, and able to shift into a wolf form. Met Max and Neil as they were passing thorough her forest and nearly bit a chunk out of Neil’s arm on their first encounter. Would do anything for her friends and thinks of them as her own pack as she journeys with them.

Nerris: Sorceress - Storm Bloodline (Neutral Good)

Born to a human mother and elven father, Nerris is skilled in magic pertaining to the elements, specifically lightning and electricity, and not to shabby with their shortsword when the need arises. Left their village on a traditional journey to hone their skills and become a great sorceress to make their family proud. Always up for adventure, but rash and dives head first into more dangerous situations. Met and traveled with Harrison, who they bicker with constantly over who is the better magic user, before they both joined the Main Trio feat. David. Don’t mess with their party, man, Nerris will beat your ass into the neighbouring realm.

Harrison: Wizard - School of Illusions/Wild Mage (Chaotic Good)

Harrison was born with chaotic magic that had his parents on edge since the beginning. He quickly became a specialist in illusions, but due to his wild magic, he’d caused a lot of unintentional trouble in his town, escalating to making his brother disappear with no idea how to get him back. Fled his family and town young in pursuit of honing his magic and searching for a way to bring his brother back. Terrible at hand-to-hand, weapons, or close-range combat, but packs a punch when his magic goes haywire, often being linked to his emotions. Will sometimes levitate without realizing and freak people out. His hat is his nearly unlimited inventory and is probably a dangerous rip in space-time that should be dealt with.

Preston: Bard - College of Glamour (Lawful Neutral)

Preston travels around in search of fame and artistic inspiration and loves any audience he can find. Rarely staying in one place for long, he recites his poetry and one-man acts for captivated audiences in the town’s square or taverns, sometimes accompanied by lute or flute music. His outfits are flashy and as much of a trainwreck as he is so he’s easy to spot. In battle, his acts are usually used to stun or paralyze opponents, often done as a tag team with a more offensive member of the party. If forced to fight, he’s not too bad at fencing his way out of it.

Dolph: Bard - College of Paint (Neutral Good)

Born into a prestigious and proud military family that he left to pursue a career in art. Has painted quite a few nobles’ portraits and has thus become well known as a traveling painter. Became quick friends with Preston when they met in a town square Dolph was passing through. Hates conflict and tends to stay back in battle, but if he has to fight, he’s able to summon whatever he paints in ink to fight for him (think Sai from Naruto lol).

Ered: Rogue - Scout (Chaotic Neutral)

Daughter and assassin-in-training of her two fathers who work closely with their country’s monarchy. Though she loves them more than anything, Ered has more of a go-my-own-way attitude, opting to work more freely and alone for smaller contracts than under her parents’ wings. Amazing sharp-shooter with her crossbow and can hold her own in hand to hand combat. She’s a name quite a few know in underground circles, and Max has heard of her before as well.

Nurf: Barbarian - Path of the Brawler (Chaotic Neutral)

Half-orc and full temper, Nurf is a brawler through and through. On the run for various crimes and resents the justice system for putting his mother behind bars. Fights mainly with fists and daggers and is one of the strongest in the party. Actually quite perceptive and insightful, but whether he chooses to act upon that insight is entirely dependent on how he feels at that moment. Nurf joined the party a little later than the rest, after meeting them during an ongoing brawl and teaming up as a spur-of-the-moment decision. He stuck around for one reason or another.

Space Kid: Cleric - Cosmic Domain (True Neutral)

Space Kid comes from a line of astronomers and astrologists, and he too answers to the Stars and Celestial Bodies. Many of his decisions are based on what star charts tell him and he’s just happy to be along for the ride. Met the Main Trio early on during a quest relating to astrology and, realizing they lacked a designated healer for the team, found Space Kid to be decent enough. Probably has untapped powers that are pretty incredible if he knew how to access them. Sticks around due to the Stars hinting that their fates are tied and good things will come about in the party’s future.

Other Notes

I’ve gotten an ask or two in the past asking about Daniel and he is 1458903% a Lawful Evil Warlock/Bard who answers to his patron Xemüg. Quartermaster is also a Warlock, probably Chaotic Neutral, and I like the idea of his patron being The Octopus (thank you S4E5 for the harrison and QM inspiration).

[offtopicoverload]

alright, i was on the fence about the oc weekend idea, but fuck it i have a bunch of shit made why not? block “oc weekend” tag if you don’t care cuz same

so have some cleo (and nia) headcanons to kick whatever the fuck this is gonna be off

super long cuz i have a serious problem

So her starting skills were bow, charisma, and wildlife, then woods lore, then blade, medicine, deception, brawling, seduction

She made some money hunting, which is where the bow and animal skills came from

With being an elf, her and Kade were orphaned together in a massacre and taken in by a local farmer

Absolutely got into so much trouble, usually Cleo getting a bad idea and dragging Kade along, but could always talk her way out of it, hence the charisma

MC canonically has relationship experience, right? I think she had a short term partner, maybe some flings with travelers or something, but never really got invested in relationships, just wasn’t her thing

Especially in RIverbend, where everyone knows everyone and it’s awkward if you break up

She’s pretty similar to canon MC, wild and goofy and somewhat reckless

But also really determined and caring and sweet when she needs to be

I adore her if you can’t tell

The first time she saw Nia, totally tongue-tied and a flustered mess, she’s smooth when it’s a joke but incapable of any coherent words when it turns real

She’s pretty awkward, definitely stiff at first, but slowly loosens up as she gets closer to Nia, letting her goofy side show

She for sure pines and gets made fun of for it by Kade, then Mal and Imtura every time she gets flustered 

And Threep likes to rub it in too, occasionally threatening to say something unless he gets snacks he does the same to Nia askjksdf

I’m also in love with the idea of Mal and Imtura playing matchmaker and constantly trying to set them up in situations where they have to be close, and the two of them losing their minds when Cleo and Nia get stuck in that pit

The night at the cabin in the Deadwood was the first moment Cleo realised that there could be something real there, like it just never clicked until Nia was straight up telling her she liked her

From then on things definitely change, and Cleo starts being a lot softer, like at the masquerade and stuff

But the argument in the cabin always sticks out in her mind, she defended Nia’s right to spend her life as she chooses, but she doesn’t necessarily like it

She always tries to find work arounds for Nia using her light, like using her own before Nia can get the chance

She for sure nearly decked the High Priest, just for all his bullshit, and was very happy to get that tracking orb from him to make sure they would be safe she had some plans already

So I don’t accept MC being cool after Nia straight up gets yanked into the Shadow Realm, Cleo absolutely was about to jump in after her until Imtura grabbed her and jerked her back like “what the fuck are you doing”

Cleo was about to snap the entire time they were working their way through the Shadow Realm, definitely wrecked Vonstratz on Nia’s behalf

I also don’t accept the “single tear” line when MC fucking KILLS Nia, Cleo would be bawling her eyes out and refusing to let go of her when she dies

There not being an ily felt kinda weird to me, and cuz Cleo’s a sap, I feel like she’d either say it before stabbing Nia or during the diamond scene where they’re looking out at Whiterun

In the first instance, it’s more for her piece of mind, that Nia knows what her sacrifice means

When Nia comes back, Cleo whispers it a million times into her shoulder as she hugs her, until she sounds like a broken record

For the second one, it’d be a bit spur of the moment, she’d just be looking in Nia’s eyes as the words spill out, but she wouldn’t even care cuz it felt so right

And now I’m going to ignore book 2 and make up my own shit

So immediately after, Cleo and Kade go back to Riverbend to pack up their lives there, Kade in order to stay in Whiterun cuz King Arlan made him a librarian or something, idk but he’s in Whiterun at the royal library and archives

Cleo ends up running a few odd jobs out of Whiterun for a while, helping Mal out quite a bit as Nia ends up with a lot of responsibilities at the temple after the High Priest gets axed

Cleo ends up quite well known as a good adventurer/travel mate by the time Nia ends up quitting the temple

Before they leave on their first trip as just them, Cleo takes her up to that terrace overlooking Whiterun after taking her to the market

They stare out at the city for a while, until the sun’s setting along the horizon

Cleo pulls out a ring from her bag, fiddling with it as she shifts on her feet nervously. She’s wussed out like half a dozen times already, and this is her last chance to do it somewhere so special

Nia figures out something’s up and starts prodding to figure it out, poking her and stuff and laughing the whole time

Cleo’s kind of found out, and turns to her blushing the ring held between her thumbs and index fingers as she avoids eye contact, “So, um. You wanna get married?”

Not what Nia was expecting at all and she kind of just 👁👄👁 for a while, until Cleo starts trying to back out of it, thinking she fucked up

And then it’s Nia’s turn to stumble over her words something along the lines of, “No, wait! Okay, um, no, so - No, I don’t mean no, just - Yes! Of course!” 

The ring’s super basic, like plain silver without even a gem 

I feel like Cleo found it on a trip with Mal, and immediately thought of Nia and proposing and freaked herself out a bit, but that’s why she didn’t look for another cuz shes a sap

They travel around the realm a bit, stopping in Undermount so Cleo can look into House Nightbloom, and getting rides from Imtura when Mal gives them a tip on a relic or something

All the while Nia’s trying to spread the Light in small villages, using her magic for little things as Cleo works favours again

At some point they get a cottage a ways away from a village, I’d say not too far from the Deadwood and things slow down for the most part, only the occasional trip for the temple

It’s a really cute house, small and surrounded by flowers and huge trees, Cleo builds a swing on one

The others visit occasionally, Kade and Threep the most often, and I almost want to say they take in an orphan, but I can’t decide if Cleo would trust herself enough for that

Though I feel like Nia would love to have pets at the least cleo always compares threep to the cats to annoy him

Elves canonically have longer life spans than humans, and Nia’s is even shorter from using her Light, so I’m sure you can tell where I’m going with this

Nia passes in her sleep before anyone else in the gang and it really fucks up Cleo, like the way she wakes up to it and can’t even stop it

And the worst part is that she’s always hoping just a little bit in the back of her mind that it’s like the first time, and Nia’s just going to wake up or knock on the front door

The gang meet up all together for a funeral, and Cleo plants the flowers from the bouquet from the end of book diamond scene

She ditches the cottage cuz too much of it is Nia, and is just kind of aimless for a little bit, staying with Kade in Whiterun, but ultimately hates not having a purpose

She moves to the old elven cabin in the Deadwood cuz shes a sap cuz it’s one of her favourite places

She devotes herself to fixing it up and making it better, helping travelers through the Deadwood cuz I feel like Tyril would open Undermount up

Everyone’s stayed in relative contact and tend to invite Cleo on adventures if they don’t hear from her for a while, just to keep her from isolating herself in the woods

Mal works with the monarchy to make things better in the Nooks and Crannies while still thievin, and especially when he’s older settles down more

I feel like he lives pretty long, but ends up sick and passing away, second to go and he kinda laughs about it his mum was sick right? and he jokes about the irony to feel better?

I doubt Imtura really accepts being a princess, I think she keeps captaining and fights it as long as she can until she really doesn’t have a choice

But she’s not like her mum, actually leaving Flotilla and like working with the guard and stuff

I think she’s third, dying in battle like a badass and saving her crew. She’s honored by the clans, and the monarchy and even Undermount declares her a hero or something idk how it works there

I feel like Kade would keep to stories, but maybe spend a while just moving about the realm, stay in Undermount to explore it and stuff, builds up his name as a bard

He dies in his sleep too cuz he deserves it, he passes when he’s visiting Riverbend again, he’s buried there and like the whole village shows up

I feel like Tyril’s significantly older than everyone else, but being an elf hides it

He always gives Cleo tips on artifacts, or asks her to escort travelers through the Deadwood or around the realm if they’re important to keep her busy

He’s not the head of House Starfury, but he’s still pretty involved in elven politics, mainly focused on opening up Undermount, educating people on the elven empire and spreading the wealth and stuff

He’d go before Cleo, just running out of life force after all his magic

After Tyril passes, Cleo’s just done, he was the only thing giving her purpose, and she’s spent decades cleaning up the Deadwood as best she can

Threep’s joined her after Tyril’s funeral, staying with her for a few days and how following her out into the forest

She walks out to the clearing they saw the unicorn at and stops right on the edge, sitting down and setting up a purification ritual

She’s known how for years, she learned after Nia passed so she could spend some of her life completing one of her dreams like a sap

She clears out the darkness from a lot of the Deadwood to drain the last of her life force, stumbling over to a tree and sliding down to the ground, her back pressed against the bark

Threep flutters into her lap, her nails scratching behind his ears as he licks her chin comfortingly, a final goodbye

Her breathing starts heavy, growing slow as her chest feels far more hollow than it did a moment ago, and her eyelids slowly grow heavy

A breeze brushes her hair, stirring her awake. The lake’s shimmering before her, bright and magical as she stumbles to her feet, Threep gone from her lap

The Deadwood’s healed, more than she could possibly have managed on her own, and she has so much more energy now than when she fell asleep

She trips through the trees, running for what feels like hours until she’s back at the cabin, the stone bright against the trees as it sits, whole again after all her effort

She shoulders the front door open, freezing when she sees the fireplace, or rather, what’s before the fireplace

Nia’s there, her back to the flickering flames as she smiles, cheeks redder than the curls falling down her shoulders

And Cleo doesn’t stop running, tackling Nia into a hug and squeezing with all she is, tears dripping down her chin as she laughs, carefree and disbelieving and happy. So, so happy, for the first time since she last saw that smile

[rkdaehwi]

SUPERSTAR KT AUDITION

Sohn Youngjae February 22nd, 7:55 am Script chosen Outfit Gif credit

Honestly he was quite lucky that school hadn’t started again yet. The very narrow time window for auditions would have usually conflicted with his class hours, and although he would have skipped in a heartbeat, it would probably not look good in his record to be tardy so early on. Although he didn’t care too much about school Eric was also kind of scared to get in trouble so this situation was probably for the better. He didn’t know if an audition like this would be an excuse for absence even if his coming school was SOPA.

Although he was definitely not a morning person and had spent the rest of his days in between school end and start sleeping in as much as he possibly could with a nagging mother, Eric had figured that being early would leave a better impression. Thus it was five minutes to the assigned time when he appeared at the appointed location, almost falling asleep in the train multiple times on the way from Jongno. But he wasn’t going to let this be a repeat of his MGA audition even if it was ridiculously early and he just wanted to be home in his nice warm bed. He had been up so early today going through his wardrobe, trying on one set of clothes after the other and wondering what kind of look he should go for. In the end he had decided to play on his age and go for something that would enhance his teenage charms. What could possibly go wrong? If it was a game it was meant for people his age anyway wasn’t it? He’d be perfect for the role even if he possessed no sense of playing rhythm games whatsoever. But they probably needed people like him too who wasn’t masters and could do a cute ‘aw shucks I failed’ or show struggle or whatever. It’d be perfect.

Another thing that had taken time was his makeup -- unlike the previous show he had attended, he doubted this place would be kind enough as to offer stylists, so all participants probably had to take care of their own appearance from the get go. At first he had gone for a more idol esque look but the comments on his most recent instagram post had him second guessing himself, wipe it all off and settle for a very neutral ‘bareface’ look. Maybe they were right, maybe makeup just wasn’t for guys. He liked how it made him look though so it did make him kind of sad. But there was nothing to do about that now. Once he became a famous idol singer he didn’t have to worry about stuff like that.

Throughout the entire trip to Yongsan (when he hadn’t been about to nod off) the script he had chosen ran on repeat through his mind. Eric wasn’t good at studying and memorising stuff, so it had been a chore getting the lines down to perfection, but once he had thought of making up a small melody and singing it instead somehow it had been much easier. He always did find it quite easy to remember song lyrics. The hard part had been to be able to recite it without singing it though, but even that he had got down now after the last week of practice.

Five minutes passed, at 8 o’clock sharp, Eric stepped in through the door, eyes immediately landing on the receptionist and giving an eager wave before bouncing over and bowing his head. “Hello! Good morning” he greeted enthusiastically. “I’m here to audition for the game advertisements. You should have received my application, I’m Sohn Er--- uhm, Sohn Youngjae.” Although Eric was a name he had decided for himself, he just thought it suited him so much better than his real name to the point where he had got so used to it that he even mistook it himself. Honestly, once he was older there would probably come a day where he would officially change his name even if he knew it wouldn’t sit well with his parents. They liked the name they had given him and didn’t think too fondly of his obsession with anything Western. But as long as he felt it he figured he should do it.

The wait wasn’t as bad as he had feared it might be, but throughout the entirety of it, Eric’s eyes were darting around the premises and on the faces of those around him. From the nerves visible in many expressions these were the people who were also trying for a chance, so he supposed they were his rivals. A friendly greeting probably wasn’t welcome -- if anything had changed about Eric it was the fact that he was actually starting to learn how to read the air, something that had never been his strong suit and probably never would be. Some people were just different than him and it was hard for his mind to comprehend that.

Every so often someone new would enter and for a brief moment his attention would divert to them but quickly go back to whatever caught his interest again. That was until a familiar face appeared and Eric let out an incredibly loud gasp. He had completely forgotten that he was supposed to go to this thing together with his big brother. In the spur of the moment he had left the moment he had finished preparing, and, thinking back on it, Dowoon might have been in the bathroom brushing his teeth at the time. The gaze his older brother shot him told him that there would be trouble later, and Eric quickly diverted his eyes. If he couldn’t see the other he didn’t have to deal with him and the guy couldn’t skip in the line. Hence his life was still safe. For now. He did however text a quick ‘i’m sorry hyungggggg’ to him.

It didn’t take long until he was called in and somehow the atmosphere inside the audition room seemed incredible. A single male and female were sitting side by side looking incredibly professional and Eric felt slightly intimidated, but it was no time to be nervous now. He had never had a problem controlling his nerves before and he most certainly wouldn’t now either. The closest he had ever been to breaking down from nerves was his middle school math exam, and honestly this was nothing in comparison. If he could do maths he could also do this.

“Sohn Youngjae,” he called his name loud and clear and gave a 90 degree bow, “I’ll be starting now!” Honestly he was convinced that this chance was meant for younger people rather than adults -- even he thought the lines were embarrassing and he was still so young in comparison to some of the other people he had seen in the hallway. Simply imagining a man ten years or some older than him spouting this nonsense while acting cute at the same time was hard. He had a lot of respect for the original actor for pulling off something this cheesy. 

With very clear words, Eric spoke his first line, keeping eye contact with the camera. He wasn’t sure if he should look at the device or the people, but he figured that with how many people they were going through, it was better to focus on the camera. His second line was delivered with a slight whine followed by sticking his bottom lip out into a pout and removing his eye contact with the camera to look away. In an instant his expression changed, one hand flat palm upwards in front of his chest, and the other hand gesturing to the empty space above it almost as if something was actually there. No props probably meant that they wanted him to be creative with his gestures and body language instead. Reciting the promotional tag line he gave a wink, before finishing off with his very last few words, forming a heart with his fingers and putting on a bright smile. With that his moment of attention was over, but he held his ending pose for two seconds before going into another bow. “Thank you for having me!” With those words he left the room with bouncy footsteps.

[sasuhinasno1fan]

Lance’s pampered evening- Klancemas Week Day 6

Don’t know if anyone cares but the Lindsey Stirling was amazing last night. I just passed out after I got back though. Anyway, back to Klancemas week, this story and the one after it are connected so please enjoy. Fireplace/Pajama

Keith struck a match and lit the fliting for the fireplace. He blew on it to get it to catch more and made sure the vent for the fireplace was open. They already had a mess when they first tried starting the fire. They couldn’t figure out which was the way to know the vent was open which lead to the entire living room filled with smoke. Poor Blue’s white fur was covered in soot.

Lance was still at work, working overtime. Lance had been doing that for the past two weeks and honestly Keith was glad Lance would finally be off for the holidays because he missed his boyfriend. Being romantic wasn’t something he was used to. Lance was the more romantic one of the two, always surprising Keith. Not to say Keith didn’t try, when he did he would get Lance to turn completely red. It just wasn’t something he was comfortable with.

However, Lance had been coming back tried and drained and Keith wanted to make his first night off comfortable, hence the burning fire. He also bugged Hunk to make Lance’s favourite cookies and the ingredients for hot chocolate were waiting in the kitchen. He also made sure to get a pair of matching pyjama bottoms to go with their couple sweaters they had been sleeping in for the past few nights. He wanted Lance to be as comfortable as possible.

Keith was hooking up his laptop to the TV when his phone buzzed with a text

Leaving work now. Ulaz practically shoved me out the door. I’ll be home soon

Please be careful on the way back. I’ll see you soon

Keith’s message was answered with a heart and a kissy face, which still somehow managed to turn Keith’s face slightly red. It still amazed him just how easily Lance could turn him red without any effort.

“Your dad is a regular flirt isn’t he?” Keith asked, looking over at Blue who was curled on top of the half-finished nest Keith was building so they could cuddle by the fire. Blue only let out a trill and curled in herself more.

Keith was bring out more blankets to make the nest more comfortable when he heard Blue’s collar ringing with her bell and tags run towards the door, meaning one thing. Lance was home. Blue let out her usual chorus of meows, as if to spur her original owner inside faster. Keith dumped the blanket next to the partially made nest and went to the door to see his boyfriend walking in looking like Keith thought, tired.

He didn’t act the part though. He greeted Blue as he pulled his jacket off and hung it up and once his snow and salt covered boots were off, he patted his legs to signal Blue to jump into his arms.

“Oh hello my gorgeous girl and my equally gorgeous boyfriend.”

“My beauty is compared to a cat’s, great.” Keith teased before he kissed Lance.

“Well, you’re like a cat, no matter how much you deny it. Plus look at this beautiful face. Her eyeliner, her sparkling blue eyes, her luscious white fur with the perfect amount of grey hints.”

“You look better.” Keith said, leaving his boyfriend sputtering. “Ok, I have a relaxing evening planned for us. When your done turning into a tomato, go change. I have PJs waiting for you.”

“Who are you and what have you done with my boyfriend?” Lance asked, turning even more red. Keith didn’t answer him as he pushed him down the hall.

Keith went back to the pile he left when he heard Lance yell, “you got me matching pyjama bottoms and want me to wear our couple sweaters? Are you trying to spoil me?”

“And if I am?” honestly, Lance needed it. Lance didn’t have to stay back, he just did because he wanted to help Ulaz catch up on paperwork to make things easier for his boss.

Keith found Lance sprawled out on the nest, Blue curled up on his pillow, already comfortable. He sat himself in his spot and set the tray of hot chocolate and cookies down, nudging Lance to make sure he was awake.

“I’m up and I smell cookies. Are they Hunk’s?”

“Your favourite, raspberry white chocolate and I made hot chocolate to go with it.”

“Yeah, best boyfriend ever. Come down here first, I want to cuddle with my boyfriend.” Lance said, turning onto his side and holding his arms open for Keith.

He couldn’t really deny Lance that. Cuddles were usually always given after long days but Lance would be way too tired to properly get into bed, let alone cuddle with his boyfriend. He found his place in Lance’s arms, curling up close.

“I missed this.” Keith said, tucking his head under Lance’s chin while feeling Lance play with the ends of his hair.

“Me too. I could fall asleep here though.”

“Not yet, I have hot chocolate.” Keith said

“I know, but stay put just a bit longer. I’m really sorry I’ve been so busy.”

“You wanted to help Ulaz. I know he appreciates it and besides, I get you all to myself for the next two weeks.”

“You planning on tying me up samurai?”

Lance let out an ‘oof’ when Keith pulled away to hit him in his stomach.

“You’re an ass, I swear. Come on, sit up or you’re going to fall asleep.” Keith said, hiding his red face, feeling annoyed but knowing he shouldn’t be too upset. If Lance was making comments like that, he was feeling better.

He let Lance devour the cookies while he started Pacific Rim. He couldn’t get into it, but it was one of Lance’s favourite movies. The way the TV was positioned, the two laid on their fronts to get a better look, Lance putting his arm around Keith and still laying down comfortably somehow.

“We’re kinda like the doctors aren’t we?” Lance asked as they watched Raleigh Becket meet them for the first time.

“How so?”

“You’re the one who focuses on the numbers while I’m the one that focuses on the actual kaiju. We’re completely different but we totally work well together.”

“Is that your way of saying they were together?” Keith questioned, turning his head to face Lance

“Oh they so were, no doubt about that.”

Keith didn’t realise when they fell asleep. All he remembered was focusing on the new movie and then he woke up to his computer asleep and the room colder with the dwindling fire. No longer on their fronts, he and Lance had turned to face each other in their sleep. He let his hand brush over the dark circles under Lance’s eyes. Lance would panic at the sight of them but obviously his tiredness took the fear away from him. He was just glad that Lance was finally home and they could relax together.

Which made perfect sense when Keith woke up again, after relighting the fire and snuggling close back to Lance, and saw said boyfriend missing, he got pissed off.

‘Where the hell did Lance disappear to?’

[bethgreeneishopeunseen]

The Virginia Shirt pt. 2

Several weeks ago, I wrote about a shirt that Eugene wore briefly in 6x12 (X). It was a “Virginia is for lovers” T-shirt, and I theorized that the shirt foreshadowed Eugene finding love in Virginia, i.e. with Frankie. The other day I was researching Elyse Dufour’s career, as I was interested in her past projects. Out of curiosity I scrolled through her Instagram, to see if I could find any behind-the-scenes or set pictures. I stumbled across a picture that set off my Genekie and Team Delusional sirens. Elyse Dufour posted a picture of the Virginia shirt clip, and she posted it over a year ago:

Source (X).

She posted the picture sans caption on May 27th, 2016, when filming for the Kingdom bottle episode was taking place. It would be about another two months before 7x07 was filmed. I further investigated the post, and the comment she left, in which she tagged Josh McDermitt, was posted about forty-two weeks ago. That would have placed the comment back in November, before 7x07 or 7x11 aired.

The picture and comment tell me that Elyse has known about Frankie’s character and about her developing relationship with Eugene for months. The picture of Eugene was Elyse’s first TWD post, and she probably posted it after meeting with the writers about her character. The comment “back before Frankie” means “Eugene before Frankie”, and that line is heavily coded to mean romance, in the context of the shirt and its potential foreshadowing. For a character, “before” and “after” in relation to another character usually refers to romance, as romance is a classic arc to spur positive development. With all of that in mind, I could not find another TWD picture from before season 7 aired on her social media. Genekie will become canon, and it will likely be a big storyline at the Sanctuary, as it will be the catalyst for Eugene returning to Team Family.

Honestly, Elyse being told this far in advance about Frankie's arc really stresses how important Frankie is going to be. She tagged Josh, so they’ve likely talked about their characters’ relationship, as the writers would want to prepare the actors as they’ll be working together often in the near future. Because once Eugene is given a romance, that romance will be around for a long time. Much like Daryl, Eugene’s never had a romantic arc, and even less so than Daryl, who was developing a bond with Beth.

Frankie is one of those "dead girls" people would write off. I wouldn't be surprised if people just saw her as a pretty face. In an interview (X), Elyse even mentioned that Frankie tried to be coy in order to trick Eugene. She uses her perceived weaknesses to her advantage, much like Beth pulls out the doe eyes in order to lie affectively. Gimple is going to play with audience and characters' expectation. Back in Clear he wrote that the weak would inherit the earth, and Genekie is the only ship made up of two characters originally seen as “weak”. It makes sense that they’d be around for a long time, as they are meant to inherit the new world. Furthermore, Frankie is an original character to the show, and so Gimple could have given her any name. Yet he named her “Frankie”, which is derived from the name “Francis”. Those names mean “a Frank man”, after the Franks from ancient Gaul. “Frank” means “free”, hence the idea of “speaking frankly”. Frankie’s bondage represents Team Family’s bondage under the Saviors, especially Eugene’s. Her freedom is tide to his, as they will free each other.

From a Team Delusional lenses, Elyse’s media since joining TWD reminds me of Emily’s. For one thing, her picture of Eugene in timing to her probably meeting with the writers, reminds me of when Emily posted a picture with the writers (X).

She posted it a few weeks before season five started filming, which makes sense, as the writers probably finished preparing her for the long journey ahead. In addition, Elyse has been doing so many photo shoots this summer, and she has not been that active on Twitter. She has also a relatively quiet schedule, as she usually does a variety of small projects throughout the year. Elyse probably has a quiet schedule so she can do promotion related to TWD and to film. While she is a model, and works for a talent and modeling agency, the photo shoots just don't seem as fashion geared, to me. My TD instincts are sensing similarities in a build-up to Beth, and I don't think that's a coincidence. As you go through several Instagram accounts and follow a person's posts for a while, you start to notice patterns almost unconsciously. @flying--forward also looked through Elyse’s Instagram and noticed the same change. Elyse never posted so much about her past projects, like Your Pretty Face is Going to Hell, or SiREN. She wants to prepare her fans for this role. For example, in March Elyse posted a picture from a fan account, and the picture clearly spelled out Frankie’s dynamic with Eugene (X).

Overall, viewers needs to be reminded of those “dead girls”, so they will be able to more easily acceptance those girls’ rise.