#i am trying so hard to be productive and not think about anythin sad and the brain is just being a bitch today

[luminescent-cactus]

Ok but why does the 3rd opening of black clover pop off so much

[seanfalco]

The Great Death Defying Nathan Young | Nathan Young x Reader

Word Count: 3.9k Warning(s): Suggestive language, Blood, Character Death (but it’s Nathan, so he’s okay)

Summary: Becoming a Vegas magician’s personal assistant, you get more than you bargained for when you find out the hard way that the magic is actually real, and so are your feelings.

a/n: Dedicated to @midnightseance / @imagine-you for our one year friendaversary!  You were the one to inspire this fic with your ideas after all lol.  Thank you Mel for being such an amazing friend and writing partner.  I love you to bits!  (To bits, I say!)

“This your first day?” the woman with the clipboard and headset next to you asked, startling you. Tearing your eyes from the stage, you nodded.

“I’m [y/n],” you introduced, shaking the woman’s hand as she checked her clipboard.

“I’m Deb. Ah, yes, here you are,” she said, looking back up at you. “You’ll be shadowing me today,” she explained. “Apparently Mr. Young needs more than one personal assistant,” she added under her breath.

“What’s he like?” you asked as you fell into step with the woman.

“A giant pain in my ass,” she grumbled with a twist of her lips. “Everyday its something else: ‘I’m hungry, fetch me some more cornettos’, ‘get Marnie a new pair of lingerie, you know th’kind I like’, ‘I need more condoms’,” she exclaimed in a poor imitation of an Irish accent.

“Oh,” you exclaimed, your brows rising in surprise. You were starting to get a better picture of what this Nathan Young you were going to be working for was like and he seemed like a bit of a prick.

——

——

“Mr. Young,” Deb called through the door to his dressing room after knocking several times with no answer. “Mr. Young!” she tried again, louder this time.

“What? Jay-sus, come on in!”

Deb rolled her eyes as she opened the door and you got your first look at ‘The Great Nathan Young’. Sprawled back in a rather grandiose throne-like chair, one long leg thrown over the arm rest, he wore naught but a half open silk robe tied loosely at the waist and a long silver chair round his neck that glittered against his bare chest.

Sporting a dashing goatee and dark wavy locks that framed his face, his dark limned emerald eyes unabashedly looked you up and down, openly checking you out with a small quirk to his lips.

“And who’re you?” he asked, his lilting accent taking you by surprise. It was nothing like how Deb had impersonated.

“This is [y/n], she’s your new assistant,” Deb introduced, sounding bored as she looked disdainfully around his messy dressing room.

“New assistant? I thought I was your assistant!” the dark haired girl you’d seen on stage earlier exclaimed, her voice a rather grating whine.

“What? No, sweetheart,” Nathan soothed, pulling her into his lap. “She’s my new personal assistant, you’re my magical assistant,” he explained and the girl ‘ohhhh’d’ in understanding, letting out a high pitched giggle.

“Well, that’s a relief,” she exclaimed. “I thought you were gettin’ rid of me for a moment there.”

You noticed Deb roll her eyes again and fought the urge yourself.

“Alright, well, if you don’t need anything—” Before she could finish, Marnie spoke up, cutting her off.

“Actually, I’d like a coffee!”

“Oooh, and I’ll have a soda, and a sandwich,” Nathan added.

Ushering you out of the room before the two could asked for anything else, Deb grumbled under her breath, showing you where the food cart was and how to make Marnie’s coffee the way she like it, with extra sugar.

——

You’d only been on the job a handful of days, but you had to admit it was kind of exciting, despite Nathan’s constant demanding whims. Standing off to the side to watch that night’s rehearsal, you couldn’t help but marvel at how real it all looked.

“Marnie! Stop stop stop!” Nathan cried, frustration lacing his voice as he stopped the production to chastise his partner for about the third time.

“What now?” Marnie exclaimed with a huff, crossing her arms petulantly over her chest.

“You’re not hitting your mark!” Nathan groaned, gesturing to the taped off X on the middle of the stage. “How am I s’posed t’make yeh disappear if y’don’t hit your mark?”

“I don’t know! Does it really matter that much?”

This wasn’t the first time they’d ended up in a shouting match either. It seemed over the past few days, since you’d started, there’d been trouble in paradise, the two constantly picking at one another.

“I need a break, I’m gettin’ a fuckin’ headache,” Nathan groaned, walking off the stage and you hurried after him.

“Can I get you anything?” you asked and Nathan pulled his hand from his face to look up at you.

“An aspirin?” he asked, a pathetic note to his voice before covering his eyes again as he slumped back in his chair. Shaking your head ruefully, you went to go grab a bottled water and some aspirin, holding them out to him.

“Here y’go, drink up,” you prompted, watching him pop the pills in his mouth and down them with a swig of water.

“Thanks,” he muttered, eyeing you askance and you smiled— it was probably the first time he’d actually thanked you for anything.

“No problem,” you murmured. “Can I ask you something?” you wondered after a moment, your curiosity getting the better of you. You knew he was probably going to tell you “a magician never reveals his secrets” or some other bullshit line, but you had to ask anyway.

“Hmm?” Nathan prompted, his eyes still closed.

“How do you make it all look so real?” you asked, a hint of awe in your voice and Nathan’s eyes opened as he straightened, fixing you with a smirk.

“That’s because it is all real,” he exclaimed grandly.

Snorting, you rolled your eyes. “Alright, keep your secrets then.”

“I’m serious!” Nathan insisted. He looked like he was gunna say more until the production manager called him back to the stage and he let out a heavy sigh, pushing out of his chair. “I’d love t’stay and chat, but duty calls,” he muttered, spreading his hands apologetically.

“Oh, but first… this is for you,” he said, stopping suddenly to turn, and with a flourish he held out a single red rose to you. “I didn’t know what your favourite flower was… or really how t’make anythin’ that isn’t a rose so…” he trailed off with a shrug and you took the flower, watching him walk to the stage in awe.

Turning, you found Deb watching you, rolling her eyes at the grin you quickly wiped off your face. However, once she left, you smiled to yourself, tucking the flower behind your ear.

Busying yourself with rearranging Nathan’s wardrobe rack, you lost track of what was happening on stage until an angry shriek filled your ears and you jumped, your head snapping up. Before you knew what had happened, Marnie was pushing past you, nearly knocking you over in her haste, Nathan hot on her heels.

“No, I’m done!” she exclaimed, stomping her foot in consternation.

“But Marnie, baby, c’mon!” Nathan pleaded, rushing past to follow her to his dressing room.

“You better go after them,” Deb groaned, running her hand down her face.

Not exactly wanting to eavesdrop, it was kind of unavoidable, however, as you stood outside the open door. Marnie was throwing her clothes into a suitcase in a huff.

“I can’t do this anymore! You said it was gunna be a cakewalk, but you lied!” she cried hysterically, her already nasally voice raising an octave.

“What am I s’posed t’do without you?” Nathan countered, trying to get her to stop.

“I dunno, get another assistant! How about her?” Marnie pointed at you, having caught sight of you standing by the door. “I’ve seen you flirtin’ with her!”

Nathan grimaced as he caught your eye, the rose he’d given you still tucked in your hair and you flashed him an apologetic look. “Marnie—” he tried again, but she brushed past him, her bags in hand.

“No, Nathan, we’re through. Don’t follow me!”

“You’ll be sorry!” he yelled after her before sweeping dramatically back into his dressing room. “Well, y’comin’ in or not?” he called when you hesitated.

“What, uhm, what was all that about?” you asked, stepping into the room and shutting the door behind you. Nathan already had a bottle in his hand and when he turned to face you, plopping down in his chair your brows rose in surprise.

Instead of the long hair you’d come to recognize on him he sported a mess of dark springy curls piled atop his head, and his facial hair was nowhere to be found, making him look nearly ten years younger.

“Oh, who knows? She’s always been fickle, but who needs her, right?” Nathan replied with bravado, waving his hand as he brought the bottle back to his lips.

“You-your face… you look—” you floundered and Nathan snorted.

“Different?” he scoffed, snorting. “Yeah, well, it’s fake.”

“But you said…”

Giving you a patient look as he sat up, he seemed to find your shock amusing. “Th’magic is real, but my appearance ain’t,” he explained. “I mean, clearly, I’m gorgeous, but d’yeh think anyone would pay t’see ‘The Great Nathan Young’ if I looked like this?” he asked, gesturing to his face.

“I dunno, probably. I think y’look better this way,” you added with a shrug, your words taking him aback and he gaped at you. “So, what’re you gunna do now?” you asked, quickly changing the subject, your face starting to warm at your admission.

Groaning, Nathan deflated in his chair. “I’ll have t’find another assistant t’take Marnie’s place, and fast, opening night is tomorrow and if we have to postpone… it’ll be a disaster.”

“It can’t be that bad, can it?” you asked, trying to lift his spirits, but he merely gave you a flat stare before burying his face in his hands.

“I’ve got a lot riding on this show, if it flops... As a kid, all I ever wanted was t’be a magician and this show is my big break. I guess I could always go back t’do card tricks in casinos...” he sighed, the sadness in his voice tugging at your heart.

Trying to think of something to say, you awkwardly patted his shoulder, jumping when he suddenly sat up, his gaze lifting to you and you didn’t like the appraising way he looked at you.

“What…?” you asked hesitantly, although you could already guess what he was thinking.

“You could be my new assistant!” he exclaimed, jumping to his feet. “You’re already familiar with the show and—”

“Oh, no no no,” you quickly protested, holding your hands up.

“Oh c’mon! You’d look stunning, and you’d be savin’ th’show,” Nathan argued. “D’you want me t’beg?” he asked, promptly dropping to his knees at your feet, only making your face flare hotter.

“That’s not—”

Before you could finish, he’d taken your hands in his as he gazed up at you entreatingly, his gorgeous green eyes getting the better of you.

“Alright, fine, but Deb’s gunna be pissed,” you groaned.

Instantly Nathan’s demeanor brightened, a grin stretching his face. “Leave that crusty old bat t’me,” he exclaimed, waving the thought away as he leapt to his feet, pressing a kiss to your cheek before you’d even realized it. “C’mon, we better get you into costume, we have a rehearsal t’finish!

——

As you’d feared, Deb was not happy about this new development, leaving her once again to Nathan’s whims as his main personal assistant, and grumbling under her breath, she led you to wardrobe.

“Let’s see how long you last!” she exclaimed as she left you to change. Holding up your costume, you eyed the scanty sequined outfit with reluctance. Sighing, you pulled the costume on and inspected yourself in the mirror. Though you weren’t usually very comfortable wearing something so revealing, you found yourself looking forward to Nathan’s reaction, touching your cheek where he’d kissed you.

“Wow!” he breathed, left stunned for a moment as his mouth fell open, his gaze taking you in. It wasn’t long, however, for his cocky demeanor to return, and he let out a low whistle before flashing you a cheeky smirk.

“See, told yeh you’d look amazin’,” he exclaimed, back in his wig and goatee, and you rolled your eyes; you really did like him better without that ridiculous get up.

Climbing up on stage with him, he walked you through each act and you were thankful you had at least some knowledge of what you were supposed to do after watching Marnie so many times. Up close and part of the action, the magic tricks seemed even more real and though you tried, you couldn’t quite figure out how he did it.

“Well, I think that went as well as can be hoped for,” the production manager exclaimed, a haggard look on his face. He, like Nathan, needed the show to go off without a hitch.

“Hey, you were great up there!” Nathan called, catching up to you as you headed back to the spare dressing room — yours, now — to change.

“Really?” you asked, kinda surprised; you’d felt like you’d just been fumbling your way through it.

“Yeah, you’re a natural,” he insisted, leaning against the wall next to your door and you rolled your eyes, fighting a pleased grin.

“So…” Nathan murmured, his gaze dropping as he leaned in closer, trailing his fingers up your arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “Wanna come round t’mine tonight? I’ll help keep your mind off the pre-show jitters,” he offered.

For a moment you merely stared at him incredulously.

“We’ll get drunk, have a little fun—”

“I can’t believe you!” you exclaimed in disgust.

“What?” he asked, a confused frown pulling at his lips. “I’ve seen th’way you look at me when y’think on one’s watching. You want me,” he argued.

“So you think just because I took Marnie’s place that I’ll sleep with you too?”

“Yeah, why not? Y’know you want to,” Nathan countered.

Growling, you pushed past him into your dressing room. “And here I was starting to think you might not be a total prick!” You caught the surprised look on Nathan’s face before slamming the door in his face, and that at least made you feel a little better.

——

It was the night of the performance, opening night, and you felt like you were gunna be sick. You’d never done anything like this before. What if you fucked it up and ruined the show? Looking at your reflection in the mirror, you groaned, wishing you could relax when a knock at your door made you jump.

“C-come in!” he called, your voice wavering.

When Nathan’s head appeared around the door you directed him a flat stare. “What, you here to ask me for a quick shag before the show?” you sneered, trying not to think about how handsome he looked in his suit.

“No!” he exclaimed hastily, though he looked slightly guilty. “No, actually I just came t’check on you. I figured you might be a little nervous.”

“A little…” you admitted, your glare softening somewhat and Nathan offered you a smile.

“Just… don’t think about the audience. Focus on me,” he murmured. “You’re gunna do great,” he assured you before his eyes trailed downward and quickly back up. “You look stunning by the way,” he exclaimed, quickly ducking out the door before you could chuck something at him, leaving you flushed and slightly flustered.

“Prick,” you muttered under your breath, but the word held no heat.

Waiting in the wings, you felt stage fright wash over you afresh as you caught sight of how many people were in the audience. Your heart pounding in your ears, your breath sped up as your whole body felt rooted in place. How were you supposed to do this?

You have no speaking lines, you reminded yourself, taking a deep breath, then another. All you have to do is bring Nathan his props and look pretty. All you have to do is focus on him…

Suddenly the house lights dimmed and went dark, a hush going over the house.

“You ready?” Nathan’s voice in your ear sent a shiver through you, and you yelped softly as he pinched your ass. Before you could turn to smack him he disappeared with a flourish of the cloak he wore, appearing in the middle of the stage in a cloud of smoke for his grand entrance to a crescendo of music and applause.

For a moment you stared at where he’d been in surprise. You’d never been that close before when he did that, you always just assumed it was some sort of trick with a trap door, but now you weren’t so sure.

“Allow me to introduce t’you my very lovely assistant, [y/n]!”

Nathan’s lilting voice calling your name snapped you out of your thoughts and you nearly missed your cue, hurrying on stage to stand next to him, bowing low to the audience before hanging off his arm.

“Took your sweet time,” he whispered, his brows furrowing slightly. “Thought you got cold feet…”

“How’d you do that?” you hissed, still trying to wrap your head around it.

“I told you, it’s magic,” he replied with a smirk, turning back to address the audience. “For my first trick—”

After your first near miss, the rest of the show went off without a hitch and you were actually starting to enjoy yourself, thankful for the brightness of the lights overhead which kept you from really being able to see the audience that clearly.

“You ready for the big finale, sweetheart?” Nathan whispered, slipping his arm around you.

“I have a name, you know,” you reminded him, but there was no snap to your voice and he merely raised his eyebrows at you.

“Are y’ready for the big finale, [y/n]?” he amended, bringing a grin to your face though you tried to hide it.

“Yeah, I think so. Are you?” you asked. Even though you’d seen him perform this trick several times it still made you nervous.

“You know it,” he answered, a genuine smile splitting his face. “Y’know, if I didn’t know any better I’d say you were enjoying yourself,” he pointed out, nudging your arm.

“I am,” you admitted, hurrying back on stage before he could react.

——

“And now for my final performance of the night, I will be recreating a feat first done by Harry Houdini himself!” Nathan exclaimed grandly to the audience, throwing his arms wide. “Let’s see if I survive!”

“Please don’t say that,” you muttered, helping him shed his cape and fitting the straitjacket on him, securing his arms in place while dramatic music played.

“What, y’worried? I can do this in my sleep,” Nathan murmured, flexing his arms, testing his restraints.

“I’m not… worried,” you argued, stepping back to gesture toward Nathan with a flourish for the audience.

“You are, you’re worried bout me,” Nathan insisted, a smug grin on his lips. “I always knew you cared.”

Scoffing quietly, you didn’t contradict him as the hook descended from above.

“Now that I’m fully restrained, my lovely assistant is going to attach me to this hook where I will be suspended upside down over the stage while I attempt to free myself from my confines!”

The audience gasped.

“Good luck,” you murmured as you helped Nathan lay down on stage, attaching the hook to a rope tied round his ankles.

“I don’t need luck, I have magic, remember,” he countered, grinning coyly at you.

“Nathan—“ you sighed.

“Can I get a kiss for luck, if y’think I need it so badly?”

Rolling your eyes skyward, you bit your lip, bending over him to press your lips to his before pulling back.

“There, now I feel better,” he teased. “When I get back down will y’give me a proper kiss?” he asked as you gave the signal for him to be lifted.

“We’ll see,” you muttered, watching him as he slowly ascended into the air til he stopped, the spotlights training on him.

Holding your breath, you watching him struggle, squirming in the straitjacket, til just like the other times he’d practiced it, he finally freed one arm and then the other, wriggling out of the straitjacket and letting it fall with a thud to the stage below as the audience gasped.

It was when he fought to free himself from the ropes tying his feet together that it happened; he was reaching for the hook to hold onto when the last of the rope fell away too quickly.

You watched in horror as Nathan fell, his name on your lips, the scene unfolding as if in slow motion.

This was not how this was supposed to happen, but the audience didn’t seem to realize it wasn’t part of the show. As soon as he hit the ground at your feet with a sickening crunch, you fell to your knees at his side, a sob catching in your throat, time snapping back to normal even as the world around you felt muted, your pulse the only thing filling your ears.

The quickly spreading pool of blood beneath him had reached your knees now, but you didn’t care, pulling his lifeless body into your arms, stroking his curls away from his forehead, the glamour having faded away.

He’d been telling you the truth this whole time— it was all real...but so was this. How was he supposed to come back from this?

“Nathan, you idiot,” you sobbed, stroking his cheek. “Why’d you have to do something so foolishly dangerous? You should’ve been wearing a wire, just in case…”

You felt your tears fall hotly down your face, blurring your vision. “What am I supposed to do now? I was just starting to like you, you ass—”

“You were?”

At Nathan’s raspy voice, your eyes snapped open and your jaw fell as you found him watching you, a small grin playing at his pink lips which just moments ago had been alarmingly pale.

“Nathan, you’re—! How?” you gasped, quickly wiping at your eyes, blinking back your tears.

“Am I in heaven? Cause you must be th’hottest angel I’ve ever seen,” he joked, his lips twitching as his grin widened.

“Nathan!” you huffed, unamused, your lips quivering. “You fucking asshole, that wasn’t funny! You scared me half t’death!”

“Were you cryin’ over me?” he asked, tilting his head as he reached up to wipe at your damp cheeks. “Don’t cry, [y/n]. I’m alright,” he assured you, his gaze softening, touched at how much you cared.

“How-how did you do that?” you asked, thoughts of anything but the young man in your arms far away.

“Well, I’m immortal, so…” he shrugged as he sat up, wincing slightly.

“That’s ridiculous,” you scoffed, met with Nathan’s raised eyebrows.

“Is it? After everything else you’ve seen me do?”

“I guess not…” you conceded. “You’re still an ass though,” you exclaimed, helping him up to face the audience who applauded and cheered deafeningly.

“Yeah, but you still like me,” Nathan pointed out cheekily.

Opening your mouth to argue, you decided against it, too relieved that he was alive, that you had more time. Yanking him toward you, your mouths collided and he reacted instantly, his arms snaking around you as he dipped you low, kissing you back with a fervor that stole your breath, leaving you panting in his arms as he righted you.

“You wanna come back t’mine after the show?” he asked, watching you expectantly.

“Do you always go to these lengths to get laid?” you teased, even though you already knew your answer.

“Nope, you’re th’first I’ve died for,” he answered with a smirk that made you grin back. “Besides, I’m hopin’ it might be a little more than that,” he admitted as the curtain fell.

Searching his face for a moment you kissed him again. “I’d like that.”

———————

Tag list: @magic-multicolored-miracle @messengeronthemoon @the-freckled-luba @firstpersonnarrator @xenteaart @gurlimtired @phoenixhits @super-unpredictable98 @nightingale-rose @salvador-daley @duck-noises @forenschik @simsiddy @a-ghoulish-tale @love-is-dirty-baby @captainsheeballs

[krismusings]

Discord thread featuring: Roman & @alison-haynes

Mentions: @aaronhart93, @luca-regio

When: July 30, 2020

Where: Roman’s apartment

Description: Roman invites Ali over for dinner, and to talk about recent events, and fallout between Ali and Aaron.

Alison.

This week had been an interesting one for sure. Alison had found out she was pregnant, had let both Luca & Aaron know, and now she was just trying to focus on the album. Her life was about to change drastically, and she was telling herself everything was okay, when it clearly wasn't.  But tonight, Alison was going to Roman's for dinner, and she put on a happy face. She wanted to get to know Roman better, she knew things were serious between Roman and Aaron, and she wanted to make it easier for Aaron. Something she wished Aaron could do for her and Luca, but she knew things were far from that. Alison made it to the address Roman had sent over, and was buzzed in. Though Roman told her she didn't have to bring anything, Alison had brought along some cookies she had baked earlier in the day. She stepped into the apartment putting a smile on her face, "Hey Roman!"

Roman.

Ro knew Alison was pregnant. Aaron had made an ass of himself in the midst of all the news, and of course Roman felt a little embarrassed on his behalf when it came to Ali. He hated that his boyfriend was acting the way he was, and although he understood the concern when it came to Luca, the scale in which he was reacting was just...way too much. “Heyyy, you brought cookies!” Ro smirked as soon as he let the blonde in, choosing to close, and lock the door behind her when she stepped over the threshold. “Thanks for coming. I got a shit ton of Chinese. Hope that’s okay?” No wine...obviously. Thank god he knew about the baby, or else he would have really gone all out with that bit.

Alison.

Alison wasn’t feeling great, the morning sickness with this pregnancy really was kicking her ass, already. She also hadn’t spoken much to Aaron since she had told him she was pregnant, and she also had spent plenty of time this week arguing with Luca, which was always about Aaron. It had been a very annoying week. But tonight, she was just going to focus on dinner with Roman, “Of course I brought cookies! Chocolate chip and red velvet, I figured you’d like one of them.” A smile spread across her face when he mentioned Chinese. “That is perfect. I don’t know when the last time I had Chinese food was.” She admitted. The blonde loved Chinese food, but didn’t get it often enough.

Roman.

“Aw babe, you didn’t have to do all that.” He reached for the container she’d brought cookies in, eyeing them with a smirk, because he really fucking loved cookies, and it was really nice of her to go through the trouble. There was a lot of guilt he felt looking at the blonde, knowing how much she was going through, and during such a busy, and stressful time in her career. She was supposed to be in the heat of promo, and now she was dealing with a lot of added fuss. “Sit down, we’ll eat on the couch, and watch a movie or something. I got a projector instead of a tele.” He gestured at the screen pulled down on the wall, their Chinese containers strewn about the coffee table already. “How’re you feeling?”

Alison.

“I didn’t mind, and Destiny helped. She was very excited to know I was bringing them over here. She aid hi by the way.” Alison hadn’t been able to spend much time with her daughter since announcing the album, she had been really busy, so it had been nice to spend the day baking with her. Alison handed over the cookies, before moving over to the couch and taking a seat. “That’s fancy.” The blonde said, eyeing the Chinese that was on the table. “You weren’t kidding when you said you got a ton of food.” Alison was excited to dig in. “Feeling? I’m feeling fine.” That wasn’t true, but Alison was unaware that Roman knew about her pregnancy. “Uh — how are you feeling?”

Roman.

“Well, ya know me! I’m as fancy as they come.” He lied, teasing before he was giggling at the accusation that he wasn’t kidding about the amount of food. “Yeah. I...don’t know what I was thinking.” Roman took a seat with Alison on the couch, reaching to open up cartons, and get everything ready for his guest. He could tell by the way she was reacting to his question that she might be unaware that Aaron had told her she was pregnant. For a moment, he thought about mentioning it, but maybe he should wait a bit for that. “I’m okay, jus’ getting through this production, and trying to rest in between shows. I’m honestly just glad to finally have a place of my own instead of living at the theater. How’s everyone loving the new album? I’m obsessed.” He admitted while getting himself a pair of chopsticks.

Alison.

“See, I didn’t know that, but now I do.” She said, letting out a soft but sad laugh. “This is great, really.” Alison reached forward to grab one of the containers of rice, “Thank you for this.” Alison really needed to have a good night, as it had been a while since she had a good night. Between Aaron and Luca, Alison was far more stressed than she should be, especially while she was pregnant. “How’s the show going? Opening night show was great, but still going good after?” She questioned. “I’m glad you got this place. I’m sure it’s much better than living in the theater.” Alison grabbed a pair of chopsticks, leaning back against the couch. “The songs people have heard, they seem to be enjoying. Im impatient to be releasing the rest of the album though.”

Roman.

Roman could tell Alison was on edge. After everything that had happened with Aaron, and the baby...she needed a friend. He didn’t know how to say that, or how to let her know that he knew what was going on without maybe making her even more uncomfortable than she already was. He just...this was a sticky situation, and he just so happened to be kind of in the middle. “Yeah, show’s great. I’m really happy with how it’s going, and the reviews we’ve gotten. Been sold out every night.” He was somewhat bragging, but mostly in a humble way. Hopefully. “Yeah, I’m sure you are. Hey...I jus’, I know this might be kind of awkward, you and I, and trying to be friends in the midst of everythin’, but I do really want you to know despite being with Aaron, I’m here for you too. Anythin’ you need.” His eyes were somewhat pleading, but he meant what he was saying. Every bit of it. He hoped she believed that as well.

Alison.

Alison couldn’t get her emotions in check lately. She knew that she was hormonal because of the pregnancy, but arguing with Aaron and Luca wasn’t making anything better. Alison did have a chance to talk it through with Landon a bit, which made her feel better a little, but she really just missed her boyfriend and best friend. It had been a couple days since she spoken to either of them, and it was taking a toll on her. But for now, she was just going to focus on hanging out with Roman and getting to know him better. “Sold our every night? Good for you guys!” She said, smiling brightly in his direction. Then Roman spoke once again, and it struck her that maybe Aaron had told Roman. By the way he said everything, but she just wasn’t too sure. She tilted her head, looking at him, she wasn’t sure what he knew. “Did Aaron tell you something?” She asked.

Roman.

Ro made a face when Alison asked if Aaron had told him something, feeling like maybe he should have been a better actor with this since he did it for a LIVING. Jesus. But, he couldn’t lie to her, now when she asked him point blank. “Yes. He told me everythin’...” Ro started, looking at his friend apologetically, because he had no idea if that was something she was okay with or not. “He’s miserable about the way he treated you, and I’m sorry too on his behalf. It’s happy news. We should be celebrating.”

Alison.

Alison should have assumed that Aaron has told Roman about her pregnancy. He was his boyfriend after all. Alison let out a soft sigh, not an angry one, but just a sigh. When he said he told him everything, she wasn’t sure if that meant everything even after the last couple days. How she had texted Aaron and said the two should have a break from one another. Alison looked over at Roman, “Celebrating is the last thing I’ve been able to do.” She admitted, shoving her chopsticks into her rice. It wasn’t just Aaron either, Luca had a major role in it. She hadn’t talked to her boyfriend in days either. “I just feel like no one understands how stuck in the middle I am.” July 30, 2020

Roman.

Ro knew that Alison was having a tough time with this, and for good reason. He simply nodded, digging into his own food as well, so she wouldn’t be alone. Roman just hoped he could have this conversation with her, and make it light, not ruin her appetite. “Yeah, I get that. If there’s any way I can help, I want to. I...know we’re not close, but I still want to be here for you. I know I’m dating Aaron, but I know the way he handled this was wrong. We talked a lot about it, and I think he understands that now. He loves you so much, and really just wants you to be happy. So do I.”

Alison.

Alison and Roman were an odd pair. When the two had met at the park, Alison never expected Roman to become Aaron’s boyfriend and that she would be having this conversation with him over a container of rice. “Thanks, Roman.” It was nice he wanted to be there for her, she needed a few people in her corner right now. As the two people who should have been in her corner, she wasn’t currently speaking too. “I want to be happy too. And this should be a happy time. I have a new album coming out, and a I’m expecting a baby. I should be over the moon right now, but I’m not currently talking to Aaron or Luca, it’s really hard to be excited about the good parts of life.”

Roman.

Ro’s mouth turned down at the corners when Alison admitted this should be a happy time for her, and it wasn’t. No one should have to feel that way, especially not her. Alison was so sweet, and talented. She’d been wanting another child, and now she couldn’t even enjoy it. “Hey. I can’t speak for Luca, but I know Aaron loves you so much, and feels like the biggest ass about the way he acted. He understands how you feel now, and we both jus’ want to be a support for you to lean on. I promise you. It’s all gonna be okay, and you’ll be able to really enjoy things once it all mellows out.”

Alison.

It should have been a happy time for the blonde. She had been wanting to expand her family, to give Des a little brother or sister, and now she was doing just that. But the news of baby Regio, had changed everything she thought she knew in a matter of days. Alison knew Aaron loved her, and she loved him. He had been her family for so long and nothing — not even a new baby — could change that family bond the two had. “I know. I just wish Aaron and Luca could get along. And I’m not expecting them to be the best of friends-but I just want them to be civil. And if not for me—for the kids. Everything is going to be different now, and I need both of them.” She admitted, her eyes looking into her rice. “Is Aaron doing okay?” She hadn’t talked to him in person since Sunday. She had sent him the text about taking a break on Tuesday, and she just wanted to know that he was okay.

Roman.

Ro just nodded while Ali spoke, tilting his head when she asked about Aaron, because he knew she was genuinely curious, and cared about how he was doing despite them not talking. “He misses you.” Roman answered honestly, picking at his own rice as he thought back to the many conversations he’d had with Aaron about this. “He regrets how he acted, and wants to make it right. He loves you so much, and wants to make things better with Luca as well.”

Alison.

Not talking to Aaron broke her heart. When she had texted him that they should take a break from one another, she had sat staring at the message on her screen for a solid five minutes before sending it. Aaron had been her best friend, her rock, and her family through all major life events over the last six years. From being on Rich Kids, to having their daughter, to her career taking off, Aaron had been there every step of the way. And even though it. had just been a few days, Alison missed him. She smiled sadly at Roman, "I miss him too." She said, placing her rice down on the table, and returning her gaze to Roman. "I love them both so much. I want them both to be happy. But, I feel like making them both happy is impossible." She felt tears coming to her eyes, god she hated being so emotional, but she could blame that on the pregnancy. "Aaron's my family. Him and Des, that has been my family unit for so long, and it's really hard to accept other people into it. I get it, I had a hard time letting you into it. I get that Aaron isn't having an easy time," She said, the tears spilling over her eyes, "But, I just, I'm having a baby. I need to not be in the middle of all the stress right now, between him and Luca. I want my baby to be healthy, and being stressed out isn't good for him or her." She said, wiping her tears from her eyes, "I'm sorry. You didn't invite me over to hear about all this."

Roman.

Roman listened intently to Alison vent, because he didn’t blame her for feeling this way, which is why he’d been to bat for her from the first news of her pregnancy. This wasn’t about anyone else, it was about Ali, and the baby she was going to have. This wasn’t a discussion, or something to consider anymore. It was happening, and all the other shit, and drama, needed to go on the back burner. “Actually Ali, I did. Sometimes you jus’ need to get shit out, and I know you’re going through a lot right now. Aaron’s miserable about how things went down, and I know you two can work through this, and come out even stronger. Everythin’ you’ve been through, it’s just made you stronger, right?”

Alison.

She knew everything that Roman was saying was true. There has never been a fight that her and Aaron couldn’t overcome. The bond between the two of them was strong, and she truly believed they could make it through this. They had too, they were still parenting their daughter together. “Thank you, Roman.” It has been nice to talk to other people this week that wasn’t Aaron or Luca. She reached back out for the rice on the table, “We’ve always come out stronger. I’m just scared—what if me asking him to take a break—what if that ruins us?”

Roman.

Ro shook his head when Ali expressed her concern, because even though he could understand her worries, he knew better. “Aaron’s the one afraid that you’ll want things to change. He’s ready to go back to the way things were, or at least the good bits. He’s waiting for you to say you’re ready, and then he’ll be fine.” He assured the blonde, smirking as he reached out to place his hand over hers. “No one could ruin what you guys have.”

Alison.

Deep down, Alison knew that Roman was right. There was nothing that could break the bond between her and Aaron, it had been there for so long, and it had always been so strong. "I don't want things to change, not between us." She mentioned. There was no doubt that things were going to change, especially with a baby on the way, there was no way to stop that. But, she could stop things from changing too much between her and Aaron. She glanced at Roman when he placed his hand over hers. "Thank you, Roman." Right then, she knew Aaron had picked the right person to join their family unit. She had been so nervous when Roman & Aaron got serious, as to how it would change them, but really - Roman just made their family unit stronger.

[flamehairedwritings]

The Fire In Your Eyes: Chapter Three

Characters: Arthur Morgan x Original Female Character

Rating: The whole series will be E, 18+ ONLY for violence, gore, character deaths, animal deaths, parent deaths, swearing, grief, sexual themes and sex.

A/N: Probably the shortest chapter of the series. (Is that stressin’ me out, probably. Will I end up posting the next chapter sooner, probably)

Summary: Saved by Arthur Morgan when her town is attacked, a young woman’s past comes back to haunt her when she has no choice but to join the Van der Linde Gang.

The Fire In Your Eyes Masterlist

Please don’t copy, steal or re-post my work; credit does not count.

Welcome Wagon

Follow the music.

It reminded her of a poem she’d once read, about a pied piper who’d played his music to lead rats and children away.

Whether he judged her a rat or a child would be down to how she performed in the next few minutes.

‘Stay as close to the truth as possible, my girl.’

Wiping her hands on her skirt, Ada passed a small fire place. A man knelt stirring a pot suspended over it. He didn’t look up at her, just continued muttering to himself as he tasted the stew.

Another man did look at her, though, a blond man leaning against a large tree that seemed to be at the centre of the camp, a cigarette between his lips. He didn’t say a word, his eyes just followed her. She glanced at him, and his lips lifted. She looked away.

Priorities. The leader first.

And there he was.

Dutch sat on a chair next to a record player, the music sounding gently from it, another cigar in his hand. Arthur stood in the centre of the tent, no longer wearing the coat she’d so tightly clung to, the sleeves of his faded blue shirt rolled up, his back to her. She faltered in her step slightly.

She’d been rude to him that morning. She hadn’t regretted sending him away but it didn’t exactly put her in his favour now, and she needed to pass the judgement of two now, rather than one. Arthur was often described as Dutch’s right hand man in the newspapers, so it was obvious the kind of sway he could hold.

What she couldn’t help but let bother her more, though, was that she had lost control in front of him. It had been years since she’d cried in the presence of someone else and here she’d done it in front of a complete stranger. Still, perhaps that would lean her character in his estimations towards being gentle.

Or a normal person grieving.

Inhaling a slow breath, Ada cleared her throat as she stepped up to the tent.

“You wanted to see me, Mr van der Linde?”

Dutch lifted his head and smiled, sitting back in his chair. “Ah, Miss Sawyer.”

Arthur turned, and just nodded at her, as if they hadn’t shared a traumatic experience. Well, she supposed it was an every day occurrence for him, she just another victim caught in the cross-fire; his responsibility for her done.

“How do you do?”

Her gaze flicked back to Dutch as he spoke, a faint smile pulling at her lips. “Fine, thank you. How are you?”

“Very well, thank you. Please, sit.” He stood and brushed off the chair before stepping aside, moving to stand beside Arthur.

Stepping into the tent, Ada moved to the chair, sweeping her skirt under herself, and taking a seat, her back straight, her chin lifting. She noticed then, as she’d moved, so had Arthur and Dutch, the former now stood where she had, his boot propped against the foundation of the tent, the latter sitting on the edge of the bed. 

So, she was to be caged in. Perhaps a tactical move, perhaps subconscious. They weren’t new to this at all.

Folding her hands in her lap, she looked to Dutch.

“Now, I know this will be hard for you, Miss Sawyer, but I’d like you to tell me what happened last night.”

She licked her dry lips as she tightened her grip on her own hands. “Well, I couldn’t sleep last night so I went downstairs to get a glass of water. Then, I heard gunfire coming up from the town. We live...” She paused and licked her lips again. “We lived in a house behind the town so we didn’t know what was happening. Then I saw men with masks on coming up towards the house and I told my family to go out to the barn, we had a wagon in there, I thought it would be easy for them to get away but, uhm...” She cleared her throat. “I was going to stay behind, give them a chance to get away. We’d planned somewhere to meet in case of an event like this, so I was going to meet them there but... They killed my family. They shot them. My mother, my sister and our uncle. And then they came after me so I ran. I ended up in the centre of town but it was chaos. There seemed to be a shoot out at the Sheriff’s office so I went in the other direction, down the stream. A man tried to attack me so I shot him.” She faltered slightly, here, in her hurried retelling. “I had to. Then I ran and took cover in the cabin and that’s where Arthur and I encountered one another.”

She glanced at him as she finished, and he looked to Dutch a second after.

Dutch shook his head slightly as he gazed at her. “I’m truly sorry that happened to you, Miss Sawyer. Do you know why they attacked?”

Arthur huffed out a short laugh. “O’Driscolls don’t need a reason.”

“No, they don’t, but they had one this time.” She looked between the men now as she spoke. “The Sheriff and his boys captured a small group of them yesterday that had been loitering outside of town. They were going to be hung tomorrow, the Mayor was going to make a show of it to try and dissuade any future activity. Obviously, it didn’t work out.” 

“Tragically.” Dutch raised his eyebrows as he nodded, exhaling a long stream of smoke. “Do you have any other family members, anyone who might be concerned about you?"

She shook her head as she laced her fingers together. “No. My father passed away when I was a child, as did my brother nine years ago. There’s no one else.”

The older man shook his head with a deep sigh. “You’re a very brave young woman, Miss Sawyer. I won’t ask you to recall anymore painful memories. Thank you for your time.”

She nodded slightly, the faint smile returning to her lips.

“Like I said to you earlier, you’ll be safe here and looked after. Miss Grimshaw can find some things for you to do to keep your mind off of the awful events that have happened to you. We’re glad to have you here.”

“Thank you, Mr Van der Linde.”

“Please, call me Dutch.”

She inclined her head as she rose to her feet. “Then please call me Annie.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He smiled. “You have yourself a good day now, and let me know if you need anythin’.”

Arthur watched her as nodded at him and exited the tent, his eyes following her.

He’d watched her the whole time she’d spoken.

Last night he’d seen her cold and ready to pull the trigger, and then mere hours later she’d broken down and wept, and then the coldness had overtaken her once more. Of course, not without reason, he knew the various ways people processed grief, but now she wasn’t under any extreme circumstances he could see the real her, and she was... not cold again, not exactly, but there was a guard up... and something there he couldn’t quite place.

Christ, he couldn’t figure her out. She was clearly educated from the way she spoke, but she could handle a gun, had kept her head in a gun fight, had even given him shit during it, but... Shit, he couldn’t put his finger on it. She was a walking contradiction.

Arthur would do anything to protect the camp and the people in it, and secretive, complex people upended the order of things. Still, time would tell, perhaps the guard she had up was a product of grief and being surrounded by strangers. Christ, she’d just been brought into the Van der Linde gang camp. Hell, he’d been in the gang so long he often forgot the kind of reputation they had and what idea it might give normal people.

Stop thinkin’ so damn hard, you fool, it ain’t healthy.

He exhaled a long breath as he stepped up into the tent and took a seat on the chair she’d vacated.

“What d’you think?” Dutch asked, his cigar between his lips.

The younger man shook his head, stretching his legs out and crossing his ankles as he folded his arms. “It’s sad. She’s obviously in a lot of pain.”

“Indeed, but I meant about the O’Driscolls and their latest venture?”

Arthur arched an eyebrow, eyeing him. “What do you think?”

Dutch smiled, blowing out a stream of smoke. “Colm don’t give a shit about his boys so we can assume the attack on the town was a display of power, or he doesn’t want the law finding somethin’ out from those boys. He’s hiding somethin’.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. Somethin’ profitable, though, I am very certain of that.” Smoothing his moustache down with his thumb, Dutch nodded in the direction the woman had walked. “Keep an eye on Miss Sawyer. I get the feelin’ there’s somethin’ she ain’t tellin’ us, whether it’s important or not I want to know.”

So, his instincts had been right.

Nodding, Arthur drew his legs in and stood. “I’ll see what I can do.”

And, like that, it was over.

She’d passed the judgement.

Her heart had pounded the entire time but she’d kept her breathing steady. Lord, she must have only been in there barely five minutes but it had felt like an eternity, every word she’d said being carefully chosen before she spoke it. She knew she couldn’t relax properly, though, until the next few days had passed. That would be the real test; if she could ingratiate herself into this group with no fuss and just... live her life.

There had been no asking her if she would like to stay. Did that surprise her so, though? She’d seen their camp, could probably roughly pinpoint where they were based upon the lake the camp overlooked.

No, she was to stay, the decision had been made for her.

Where the hell else was she supposed to go? Well, there was a place.

No.

No, she would just have to take each day as it came. Mourn, move on, live. Build herself some sort of a life, starting now.

Returning to the wagon she’d been taken to earlier, Ada pushed a stray curl out of her eyes.

“Miss Grimshaw?”

The older woman looked up from where she was sewing a skirt, a smile quickly lifting her features. “Hello, dear, how are you?”

“Fine, thank you.” Ada stopped before her, clasping her hands in front of the belt at her waist keeping her skirt up. “I was wondering if I could perhaps help with any work?”

The older woman, entirely delighted, patted the stool beside her. “Yes, of course, dear, that would be wonderful. How are you at sewin’?”

“My mother taught me.”

“Oh, wonderful!” 

Once Ada had seated herself, Susan placed the skirt in her lap and handed her the needle. “There you go, sweetheart, you carry on fixin’ that. Lord, it’s nice to have a girl who actually asks for work. I’m gonna see where those other lazy dead-weights have gotten to.”

Lord, I hope I don’t get on her bad side, Ada thought as she watched Susan stride away, barking out names.

It was an easy fix, two seams having come apart, but Ada gave it more focus than needed, happy to lose herself in making sure each stitch was perfect. Happy to not think about the past or the future for a little while.

Over the next few hours, Miss Grimshaw only disturbed her to ask once if she would perhaps like to take a nap, she must be tired, to which Ada declined and the other woman looked delighted once more, and to give her the next item to fix.

She sewed sleeves back on to their shirts, patched over holes in trousers and blankets, and reattached buttons.

She was left alone and that suited her fine. She could hear people carrying on with their work, laughing and talking to one another, and she was grateful no-one came to talk to her. Yes, she wanted to find her place in this group, to be fully accepted to make life easier, but for now she just wanted peace and quiet, and to avoid any questions. That seemed like the appropriate thing someone in her current situation would do.

The setting sun and calls for the whereabouts of stew finally made her lift her head. Rolling her shoulders and straightening her back, Ada flexed her numb fingers as she tipped her head back. Various muscles ached but it gave her a detached sense of satisfaction to see the pile of completed garments beside her. She’d completed something, no matter how menial it was, but she’d also proven her usefulness to this camp.

Placing the shirt she was halfway through aside, Ada massaged her hands as she watched the members of the camp congregate around the fire pit she’d passed earlier. The man she’d also passed earlier was once more knelt beside it, this time stirring a large pot and insisting it wasn’t quite ready.

“Come on, Pearson, it ain’t hard.”

“It just needs a few more minutes.”

“Since when did you care so much about how the food tastes?”

“Shut up and back off.”

A low whinny drew her attention away from the bickering. Beyond a tent, she saw Arthur atop his horse, trotting towards a hitching post. Red dust coloured his trousers and boots, and the legs of his horse; he must have been out most of the day. She watched him as he dismounted and tied the reins to the post, his lips moving. He stroked the horse’s neck gently, murmuring to it, and lifted his head, searching for someone. Turning his head, his eyes landed on her.

She swiftly averted her gaze.

“Hey, you want somethin’ to eat?”

The blonde woman, Karen, stood before her, a bowl of stew in each hand. Getting to her feet, Ada accepted one from her with a light smile.

“Yes, thank you.”

“No problem. Come over here and sit with me and the girls,” Karen continued, beckoning her with a twist of her head. “Otherwise Grimshaw’ll corner you and there goes your evenin’.”

“She’s been very kind to me.”

Karen snorted as Ada followed her away from the wagon, an eyebrow arched. “Yeah, you give it a few hours, honey, you’ll see the viper underneath.”

Nearing another fire pit with logs surrounding it, Ada saw the two other girls she’d glimpsed earlier, though couldn’t remember which one was named what. Karen rounded one of the logs and took a seat, shuffling over so Ada could sit beside her.

“Girls, this is Annie Sawyer. Annie, this is Tilly and Mary-Beth.”

They nodded and smiled at her in a familiar way that suggested they had already poured over and discussed the little details they knew about her. Ada sat as she smiled, their inclusiveness easing her a little. But was it for a reason, or just out of kindness?

“We’re real sorry about what happened to you.”

Ada looked to Tilly as she spoke, nodding slightly. “Thank you.”

“Those O’Driscoll boys are evil,” Mary-Beth added, the corners of her mouth turning down sympathetically. “I’m so glad they don’t come this far south.”

“Nah, we just got those Lemoyne Raiders to deal with here, and they sound like a real pain in the ass.”

“Who are they?” Ada asked Tilly, lifting a spoonful of stew to her mouth.

“Stubborn Southerners,” Karen interjected, to which Tilly raised her eyebrows as she shrugged a shoulder.

“Yeah, that about sums ‘em up.”

“Do you have much trouble with them?”

“No, not really. Well,” Mary-Beth tilted her head as she pursed her lips. “Arthur and Sadie had some trouble with them a couple of days ago, and Javier and Bill said they were ambushed by a small group. Think Arthur might’ve been threatened by them a few times, too, actually.”

Ada tried to memorise the faceless names as she nodded, a corner of her mouth lifting. “Not much trouble at all, then.”

Mary-Beth blinked, before a laugh suddenly burst forth from her. Tilly joined her, and Ada felt an underlying tension, most likely caused by her grief and their wish to not upset her, dissipate; there would be no need to tip toe around her.

Ada’s smile widened, and Karen added, with a grin of her own, “Yeah, they’re just a minor nuisance. Hardly noticeable at all.”

I never thought I’d miss the God damn snow.

Arthur exhaled heavily as he guided Ophelia towards the hitching post close to his wagon. Heat he could usually handle, but sitting and walking out in it all damn day whilst trying to discreetly map out the Grey and Braithwaite lands was not his idea of a good time.

Dismounting with a soft grunt, he rolled his shoulders, feeling his shirt clinging to his back with sweat, and carefully lifted the reins over Ophelia’s head. Loosely wrapping them around the post, he stroked his hand along her neck.

“There’s a good girl,” he soothed her lowly, his other hand brushing down her forehead. “You had a fine day, didn’t you.”

Licking his dry lips, Arthur looked over to Dutch’s tent, hoping to find him sat on the chair or the bed. Finding it empty, he turned a little, scanning the camp for any sign of him. Nearly everyone was gathered around the stew, Dutch not among them. He didn’t usually take a bowl until everyone else had, anyway. His gaze drifting beyond the hungry members of the gang, it settled on Miss Sawyer, sat by the girl’s wagon, Karen holding a bowl out to her.

Bein’ nice or nosey?

He dropped his hands from Ophelia and moved to the nearby table.

“Kieran.”

Kieran lifted his head quickly, nearly dropping the pestle and mortar in his hands. “Uh, yeah? Hey, Arthur.”

“Hey, would you brush Ophelia down for me? I’ve gotta speak to Dutch.”

“Sure thing, I’ll do it now.” Shoving his chair back, Kieran stood, hastily gathering the pestle and mortar and uncrushed herbs into his hands.

“Thanks. You know where he is?”

“Uh, no, I ain’t seen him.”

“All righ’.”

“What do you want to talk to him ‘bout?”

Arthur arched an eyebrow.

Releasing a nervous laugh, Kieran then nodded swiftly and quickly strode towards Ophelia. Shaking his head, Arthur fished a packet of cigarettes out of his satchel and flicked it open with his thumb as he scanned the camp again. Drawing a cigarette out and placing it between his lips, he began to walk towards the lake, slipping the packet back into his bag. Maybe Dutch was having another one of his thinking sessions down on the bank, as Arthur was oft to find him.

Finding a pack of matches in his bag, he lit his cigarette as he passed Dutch’s tent, and inhaled long and slow as he shook the match to extinguish the flame before dropping it to the ground. Returning the pack to his bag, he squinted as the setting sun suddenly blinded him, emitting a muttered, “Christ...” as he took the cigarette between his thumb and forefinger and removed it, blowing out a stream of smoke.

Raising his other hand to shield his eyes, Arthur looked to Dutch’s usual spot as he moved down onto the bank, and found it empty.

“Arthur!”

Turning at Susan’s voice, he inclined his head as she approached, that always just a little too sweet smile on her lips.

“Good evening, Arthur.”

“Good evenin’, Miss Grimshaw.”  

“Dutch has asked after you. He’s just gone to his tent.”

Of course he has.

“All righ’, thank you. Hey, how’s Miss Sawyer been doin’?” he swiftly added as she began to turn, his voice lowered slightly.

Susan folded her arms as her eyebrows rose slightly. “Fine, actually. Well, quiet, but that’s to be expected after what she went through. She’s been workin’ all day, mendin’ things. She’s been a great help.”

So you adore her and you’re never gonna let her leave.

“I’m glad to hear. Thank you, Susan.”

“No problem."

Taking a drag of the cigarette as she strode away, Arthur headed in the opposite direction, back towards Dutch’s tent.

He’d wanted to see for himself how she would spend her first day in camp, whether she would do as Sadie had and isolate herself until she was ready to talk, or have another break down and cry for most of the day. However, Hosea had asked him to map out their current target’s lands to aid them and, well, that had seemed the priority. Besides, he couldn’t have hovered over her without it being noticeable, and he didn’t want to draw the camp’s attention to his and Dutch’s interest in the new member.

Clearing his throat as he rounded the tent to the opening, a chorus of feminine laughter mingled with Karen’s recognisable cackle suddenly erupted from the other side of camp.

Glancing over his shoulder with faint interest, he then paused.

Annie Sawyer was sat amongst Karen, Tilly and Mary-Beth and she was smiling. It was a real smile, too.

Good.

It was the first thought that entered his mind, then followed closely by that faint unease again.

And not expected. Grief makes us all do strange things... Includin’ not grievin’ at all.

“Ah, Arthur.”

Turning to Dutch, he nodded as he stepped into the tent.

“You wanted to see me?”

“Yes.” Dutch gestured to the chair opposite him, placing his book beside him on the bed. “It concerns our dear Mr Trelawney.”

“Fantastic.”

Laughter echoed across the camp once more as Arthur took a seat, closing his mind to it.

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[rainoverthemountains]

So I wrote a Twist-story

I absolutely adore @itsladykit ‘s boy Twist from her Twistfell AU. Actually, I adore all of her boys from all of her AUs, so much so that I wanted to write a story about them. Unfortunately, the more I love a tough and cool character, the more I love hurt/comfort involving that character. Fortunately, Lady Kit is fantastic at providing that. Unfortunately, I wanted even more, and I was also sad that Twist is so hopeless about his LV problem, so this story came to mind. It sprang from Lady Kit’s story Bucket List (the AO3 version), so it makes more sense if you read that first (although if you’re considering reading this and haven’t already read Lady Kit’s stuff, what are you doing here? Go read her stories, she’s incredibly awesome).

I’m hesitant to write it because it seems strange to write hurt/comfort with someone else’s characters (ignoring the fact that all fanfiction uses someone else’s characters) but Lady Kit does like hurt/comfort and has stated that people are free to write in her worlds, and it doesn’t get into any subject that she has stated she wants to avoid, so I decided to give it a try. I also don’t know what I’m doing with writing a story and posting it to the internet, but we’ll see how it goes. Lady Kit please don’t hate me if you see this and don’t like it.  I’ll take it down or change it if you want. I’m sorry I’m awkward. 

So now I will post this and go hide.

Summary: There’s a cure for LV (probably). It’s completely safe (probably). It’s a highly unpleasant experience (definitely). Twist only cares about that first statement. He probably should have paid a little more attention to the other two. But what does it matter? He’s getting what he wants, and he has the best friends and family in any universe to help along the way.

Chapter 1

“Gah! What the hell is their problem? Don’t they realize what I have here?” Iggy snarls at the review panel’s response to her official report, slamming her bowl of ramen on the desk before sheepishly wiping up the noodles that spill over the side. After the sudden increase in funding from an anonymous donor, the LV reduction project has progressed beyond her wildest dreams. She’d honestly been losing hope just a few months ago, but access to any resources she can imagine has changed things. Well, access to resources and a little creative bending of surface laws on ethical treatment of research subjects. 

“Those damn laws,” she growls. She’d looked into them at the urging of her Taleverse counterparts, and, fine, maybe some of her methods are just a little bit illegal here. But those laws just don’t take into account the importance of her work! Following all of the required procedures could delay the project for years, maybe decades. Monsters don’t want to wait decades to get rid of LV, and that includes her research subjects. A few might have melted in the process, but that was only in the beginning and those monsters were too far gone into their LV to care anyway. Besides, that problem is long since solved. While her more recent subjects didn’t particularly enjoy the treatment, they all came out of it alive and with lower LV. They got what they wanted, however much they might have complained along the way. The point is, she’d created the impossible, a drug that can dissolve LV without dissolving the rest of the monster. 

“It doesn’t even do any permanent damage to the subject’s soul anymore! What can they possibly have to complain about now?” she mutters, reading further into the report.

“‘Promising, but requires further testing,’ my ass.” She’s done the testing. She’s shown that it works. The subject pool is a little limited, but the trends are consistent and easily extrapolated. Of course, ‘Extrapolation outside the range of available data is not sufficiently reliable to support approval for mass production,’ according to several reviewers. 

“Well, maybe they have a point there,” she allows. “A slight one.” Extrapolating from an LV of 9, the highest of her successful test subjects so far, to the full range of monsters who need the treatment might be going a little too far. 

“Well what am I supposed to do about it?” She throws up her hands in exasperation. They want all research participation to be voluntary, but they also want the treatment tested on high LV monsters. “Have they ever met a monster with high LV!?” Not exactly the most cooperative research subjects. Some of them might say they want to get rid of their LV, but just try sticking a needle in their soul and see how long they keep cooperating. An uncooperative high LV monster can cause a lot of trouble. She shudders. There’s no way she’s dealing with that again. Then there’s the subjective data. Monsters on the edge of losing their minds are terrible at answering questions about the experience during treatment, and the panel refuses to accept her results without some form of patient report.

Ugh. Those self-righteous assholes want to deny her brilliant, revolutionary cure to all of monster-kind on the basis of a few technicalities. She taps her claws against the desk, fuming. “There has to be a way around this.” If she can just find someone, anyone, with high LV who is reasonably sane and would be motivated enough or have little enough sense of self-preservation to be a cooperative research subject…

Oh. Well of course there’s Papyrus. Well, a Papyrus, the one from her universe. The crazy one who goes by Twist now. That bastard has been on the edge of losing it for years but has never quite tipped over the edge. She nearly had him a few years ago, back when she first started her work underground, but his brother talked him out of it. Undyne kept trying to convince the little fluff ball for her, but eventually they’d given up. But now… Things are different now. Not with the fluff ball, but if she can just go around the fluff ball…

Twist is losing his mind. Anyone even tangentially acquainted with that multi-universal pack of skeletons knows that. Anyone with any basic understanding of LV should know that. The fact that he’s kept it mostly together this long suggests a level of determination or attachment or stubbornness or something that most monsters don’t have. Maybe enough of it to actually go through with the treatment? And based on some of the stunts she’s heard of, a high sense of self-preservation won’t be a problem. So, highly motivated, unlikely to be scared away by any necessary unpleasantness, really not much to lose given the deadline he has to know he’s living under, and LV high enough that no one can say she’s extrapolating outside the range of her data. He’s perfect. Now she just has to get to him where no one else will have a chance to talk him out of it, at least until it’s too late to change his mind.

***

All that being said, it seems best to approach Twist at work, away from all the others. Undyne still keeps track of all possible troublemakers from their universe so it’s easy to find out where he works. That’s how she finds herself greeting a pair of skeletal legs sticking out from underneath a car.

“Twist? Is that you under the car?” she calls.

“Yep, I’m the only skeleton workin’ here so if yer talkin’ to a skeleton under a car it’s prob’ly me.” He rolls out from under the car and waves. “Hey, Iggy. Whatcha doin’ ‘round here? Havin’ car trouble? We’ll getcha fixed up in no time.”

“No, no car trouble. Actually, I have a proposal for you.”

“A proposal?” Twist teases with raised browbones, “well now ya got my interest. Does yer girl know ‘bout this proposal? I’m up fer anythin’, but I’m not so sure she is.”

“Not that kind of proposal!” Fellverse monsters shouldn’t blush this easily.

“What kind of proposal it is, then? Does everyone have ta be dressed, or is that negotiable?”

“It’s not that kind of proposal! Forget that I said the word proposal. It has nothing to do with a proposal. Can you please try to be serious for one minute?”

“Proposals can be very serious.” Iggy glares and Twist grins. “Fine, fine, what’s this not-proposal ya got fer me?”

“You know what I’ve been working on since Asriel’s coronation, don’t you?” Twist abruptly loses his teasing air.

“I do. Think I’ve told ya before that I’m not really in’erested in meltin’, though.”

“Oh, no, the research is way past that point. No one’s melted in months, well, I mean a little bit, but not melted, melted, and I’ve got that part worked out too. Actually, that’s what I came here to tell you. I’ve found a cure!” Twist’s jaw drops.

“What? Ya found… what?”

“A cure for LV! Money from a new major donor gave me access to equipment and materials that I never dreamed of, which let me break through a few major obstacles that had stumped me for years, and now the treatment is already in clinical trials and it works! It really works!” Twist stumbles against the car and decides to sit down before he falls down as his legs give out in shock.

“Are, are ya serious?” Iggy nods enthusiastically. “Yer not exaggeratin’, or brushin’ over some technicalities, or playin’ some sick practical joke ‘cause I swear if you are ya won’ leave this place alive, or…”

“No, no, no, none of that. It’s not an easy cure like ‘take a pill, then get all better right away’ easy, and like I said, it’s still in clinical trials so it’s not approved for the mass market yet, but it’s real and it works.”

“When can I have it?”

“Once it makes it through clinical trials it will have to be approved by a review board and the sovereigns, so whenever all that is done is when it will be available to the general public.” She’s got him. She’s definitely got him. Now is the time to reel him in.

“An’ when’ll that be?

“I don’t know. The real holdup is the clinical trials. I need to show that it’s safe and effective in monsters across the whole range of possible LV, and volunteers with high LV are hard to find. The highest I’ve had so far is 9.” Twist’s sockets narrow. He’s clearly caught on to what she’s doing.

“An’ I suppose ya came here today hopin’ ta find a volunteer.”

“Well, yes. I didn’t think you’d mind. It would give you access to the treatment months or even years earlier than you’d have it otherwise and I know LV is a particularly time-sensitive issue for you.” 

“Mhmm. Can’t deny ya’ve got a point there. An’ can ya guarantee I won’t melt?”

“Absolutely no melting. I’m not saying the treatment will be fun. It’s actually pretty painful and can go on for days, even weeks to get rid of as much LV as you have. You’ll probably want to come up with something to tell your friends and family unless you want them worrying about you the whole time. But won’t it be worth it to come home free of LV and having paved the way for everyone else to be free of LV too?”

“So that’s the whole story, huh? I come with you, get this ‘treatment,’ be miserable for a few weeks an’ then I‘m cured? Why do I suspect yer leavin’ somethin’ out?”

“I’m really not. I mean, I haven’t explained every detail, but I will if you come back to the lab with me. I’ll explain the whole process and you can back out at any time before we start, but I know you’re not going to want to because I know you want this. Come on, do you really want to wait around until you hurt someone or lose your mind? I’ve worked with plenty of monsters who lost themselves to their LV-”

“An’ melted quite a few of ‘em.”

“-and that’s not something you want to go through, or put your little brother through. I know you two are close. Just imagine what it would be like for him if one day you attack him, or if he finds out you just went crazy one day and you’re never coming back, or if you kill yourself to keep that from happening.”

“Ok, yes, I get it! I don’ need ta hear it, I already know all that shit!”

“Now imagine coming home to him and telling him truthfully that none of that is ever going to happen, that all of your LV is gone and you can live the rest of your lives without ever worrying about it again. Imagine the same for your friends, each of them losing the LV that’s been weighing on them or their loved ones for years. Imagine what it’ll do for monster-human relations when humans can no longer point to high LV monsters to prove that all monsters are dangerous and shouldn’t have any rights. Imagine-”

“That’s enough! Ya think I don’ know what gettin’ rid of LV would mean? Think I don’ think about it every fuckin’ day?”

“I know you do. That’s why I know you want this. If you want to eliminate LV, and I know you do, then come help me get rid of it. We have the power to do something completely, unequivocally good, here. Just come to my lab and we can do it. We can do it today!”

“Ok.”

“You know you want to-”

“I said ok!” Twist snaps. “You can stop yer grand speech. ‘M convinced. Let’s go cure LV. Jus’ lemme finish with this car an’ I’ll go take off work an’ tell my bro that ‘m going on vacation fer awhile. He’ll be annoyed I didn’t warn him but he won’ be that surprised that I went off on some random trip.”

chapter 2