#i can’t believe he brought back the horseshoe shirt and i wasn’t there to see it 😪

[mydisenchantedeulogy]

Hello Sorrow [Chapter Four] Out of the Pan and Into the Fire [Karl Heisenberg]

Tag List: @unlikelyllamanerd​

It all happened so fast.

The monster lunged, but the sharp point of the auger missed her as Irina slammed her back against the door in a poor attempt to evade it. The force in which it took to strike her temporarily knocked the blundering creature unsteady, giving her a chance to unlock the door and make an escape. However, the monster swung its arm, catching her in the side with its potent backswing.

The sharp rotating drill tore through her overcoat like tissue paper, slicing into her skin with a maddening screech. Irina cried out in pain – the worst she had ever felt – and lurched away from it, losing her balance and falling onto her stomach with a stifled oomph. Quickly and driven by curiosity, she rolled onto her back despite the burning pain in her side, just at it emerged from the room, staggering with every lethargic step.

Had it been human once? Perhaps, Irina thought. It looked more like a machine to her; headgear over its cranium and a red glowing reactor on its brawny chest. Perhaps … but not anymore. The only semblance to a human it had remaining was its figure and most of this was covered in thermoplastic hoses and wound tubing.

What was this thing?

As it trudged closer, Irina scooted back on her elbows, incapable of taking her frightened eyes off it. The blood covered auger fused to its arm span slower as pieces of her torn coat jammed the drill, looking no less intimidating to her. It shifted its head around, teeth chattering as it searched for her. Irina wondered if the monster wasn’t able to see with the headgear on – she was near it and yet it hadn’t attacked her. Easing back, she held her breath and gripped the chain of her shackles in her shaking hands, so not to alert it.

There was a staircase on the opposite side of the furnace; maybe she could make it over to them. Irina scooted her tired body across the grimy concrete floor, keen eyes glued to the monster. Closer and closer she moved, not realizing until it was too late that she backed into the leg of a workbench. It scared her so much, Irina let out a gasp.

The monster heard.

It turned in her direction; its mouth peeling back into a lipless snarl and lunged. Irina got back onto her feet, attempting to flee, well aware that she couldn’t evade its attack a second time, being too slow to react. Her breath caught in her throat.

But a sudden thunderous bang pierced her ears.

She reached the stairs and turned, seeing the monster twitching in a gruesome heap on the floor with Heisenberg looming over it. The helical face of his sledgehammer was covered in blood and slivers of bone.

Why did he kill it?

“Damn idiot,” the man sneered, knocking brain matter from his boot.

Heisenberg glanced at her, panting and holding her injured side in pain. She was backing up the stairs, eyes wide in fear. “It made a liar out of me. Shame I had to destroy it; moron was hard to make.”

She wanted to remind him of the fact that he lied to her about the time limit, but opted not to.

“I don’t know how it got off its leash.”

Where these the pets he spoke of?

Irina gave him a heated look. He was a lunatic.

“Come on now. Don’t be a prude.” Heisenberg hummed and brought up his hand. “Tell you what … I’ll give you a present; something to help you.”

He reached into his pants pocket and took out a key, tossing it near her at the base of the stairs.

Irina gave him a suspicious look.

“Go on and take it,” he ordered.

She eased onto her knees and picked it up.

“Why are––

“Shut your hole and listen to what I have to say.”

She winced in fear at his outburst.

Heisenberg pointed his finger. “Look at the key.”

Irina did.

It was small, made of metal, and had a horse and horseshoe etched into the bow.

“See that crest; it represents my house and goes to a specific door on B1,” he explained.

Irina was confused. Was this another one of his games?

“Understand?”

She really didn’t.

“Can this open the entrance doors?”

He grinned. “Afraid not.”

There’s no guarantee, she though as she stared at the key.

“Then I can’t take it,” Irina declared, tossing his key onto the ground.

She was aware that her decision was foolish, but she couldn’t trust him. The hope he gave her hurt. She wanted to believe that he was giving her a chance, but somehow, she knew better. Tears stung her heated eyes.

“How can you be so heartless?”

Heisenberg snorted. Opening his hand, the key lifted; the atmosphere seemed to thin and crack as scraps of metal hovered in the air.

How was he doing this? Irina stared in fear; the shackles bit into her skin, pulling so hard she feared her wrists would break.

“Are you sure?”

She was.

“I am,” she said with a nod.

Heisenberg grinned. “As you wish.”

Pointing his finger, the scrap lunged and slammed into the wall around her with a deafening crack. Irina screamed in horror and covered her face. Her clothes were cut to ribbons; metal splinters bit her skin. It stung so bad; an indescribable pain. She imagined it was like being tore apart in a hurricane.

Once the barrage ceased, she was surprised to be alive. Irina sunk to her knees, tears pouring down her face.

She heard Heisenberg laugh, sounding much closer than before.

“You’re not done yet, are you? Where did all that spunk go?”

She dug her nails into her skin. Done? What kind of fucked up game was this? Uncovering her face, Irina glared at him. He was standing at the furnace, grinning at her.

“Stop messing with me. Fucking kill me if you’re going to,” she barked.

Again, Heisenberg laughed. “Patience, darling. You may prove to be of some use to me.”

Lifting his finger, the air thinned and the shackles tugged at her blood-stained arms. Irina groaned in pain and stood, being forced to go to Heisenberg. Every step was excruciating. Her head was heavy; eyes sore and blurred.

Was she bleeding out?

Falling onto her knees, her arms remained suspended by means of the cuffs. Her head hung in exhaustion.

“I can’t … let me die.”

Heisenberg tsked and yanked Irina to her feet.

“Am I gonna have to carry you?”

She didn’t answer.

He tossed her over his arm with ease; her cut up slender body was slack, bleeding through both his shirts.

“Have you gone and died on me?”

Again, Irina didn’t answer.

Before darkness consumed her, she had a though.

Why did the Duke put her on this path?

If she ever saw him again, she would ask.

[flannels-and-fannypacks]

Will They Won’t They | Part 4/4 [Reggie Peters]

Pairings: Reggie Peters x fem!Reader

Words: 6.0K

WARNINGS: swears, ANGST

A/N: oh my god it’s finally here. the last part. our baby. i literally can’t believe it i’m almost in tears. thank you so mcuh for being with us this past week and sharing the joy drea and i have had writing this for you guys. please i’m literally begging you guys to SEND IN MEMES you’ve made related to this series they make our day. anyways lots of love babes - mimi

A/N: GUYS IT’S THE LAST ONE IM SO EXCITED SEND MEMES PLEASE - drea

                          ���━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━◥

“(Y/N) excited for a school function that doesn’t require academics?” Rose questioned.

“Someone called the police there’s been a kidnapping!” Alex exclaimed.

“Oh so now you want the police involved,” you crossed your arms and rolled your eyes.

“How are you still not over that!” Luke exclaimed. “I took you in and fed you, and bought you clothes and loved you,” he said exaggeratedly and you just pushed away his pouting face from yours.

“And how am I not allowed to want to go to a school dance? I like having fun every once in a while. The last time I checked that wasn’t a crime,”

“Yeah it’s not a crime if you’re anyone but (Y/N) (L/N),” Bobby nudged you and you sighed loudly. “Hey where’s Reggie by the way? I thought he was going to come,”

“I think he is,” Alex nodded. “He said something about maybe having to walk, his parents are busy,”

You bit the inside of your cheek hoping the Peters could hold off fighting for one night, Reggie deserved a break. They might not have realized it, but he secretly blamed himself for it all even though it could be nothing further from the fact. You knew that well enough.

“Hey I’m here,” Reggie said, jogging up to the group that was waiting for him so they could head inside the school. “Sorry I’m late,” he apologized. “I got a little distracted when leaving.” You could tell he was lying but didn’t speak up about it.

Luke shook his head, patting Reggie’s back with the hand that wasn’t holding his guitar case. “It’s all good,” he said with a grin. “What matters is that we’re all here, and ready to rock these nerds!”

Rose made a sour face. “We’re still here,” she pointed out, gesturing to the two of you.

“Right,” Bobby nodded, elbowing Luke in the ribs. “Let’s rock these nerds except for our fashionista Rose and (N/N)!”

You beamed. “Thank you!”

“The ultra nerd!”

“Fuck you!” you shot back.

Reggie pulled you into a side hug. “Leave Cookie alone,” he told them. “The only one who gets to tease her is me.”

You rolled your eyes as Luke grabbed you by your wrist. “Hands off my daughter,” he warned. “And for the record, no one teases my child? Say one word and I’ll fight you myself.”

“If someone pulls me like a rag doll one more time it’ll be your sorry asses that get beat,” you threatened.

Luke beamed at you, pinching your cheek. “Oh, she learned how to threaten people!” he gushed. “Like mother, like daughter.”

You pushed them all towards the stage. “Alright, you dorks,” you grumbled. “Get on stage. Make me a happy bunny, or whatever.”

The boys saluted before marching off. “Got it, Lady Bunny!” they cheered as they made it backstage.

You glanced over at Rose who had her arms crossed on her chest as she shook her head. “Those boys,” she sighed. “I can never understand how we put up with them.”

Shrugging your shoulders, you took Rose’s hand in yours. “You gotta admit, they’re growing on us,” you joked. “Now come on, let’s get to the dance floor!”

You and Rose watched as the boys finally got on stage, their instruments ready in their hands. Luke took the microphone and smiled widely at the crowd.

“What’s up, Los Feliz High?” he said into the microphone. A roar of cheers followed, making Luke laugh. “We’re Sunset Curve, and this is one of our original songs. It’s called Now or Never.”

The entire school adored Sunset Curve and their music. By the time they were finished, they were cheering for more. It made you happy to know that those boys were bound to go far with their music.

You and Rose met the boys backstage where they were putting away their things and getting ready to come and join you out and dance.

“Guys that was amazing!” you exclaimed with a grin. “You all played so well,”

“I’m so proud of my little renters,” Rose joked and the guys all laughed, tossing their things aside before dragging you and Rose to the dance floor.

Now that the DJ had taken over, the guys were able to finally dance with you guys. In a circle, the group and you sang along to the music, occasionally jumping up and down and screaming the lyrics.

In the corner of your eye, you saw Rose continuously glancing back at a boy in the back of the gym. Following her gaze, you lit up at who you saw. You pulled Rose down to your level, whispering in her ear,

“Ray Molina, an absolute sweetheart and my coworker at the cafe. Loves photography and apparently you. Now go!”

Rose blushed, shaking her head repeatedly. “No, I can't,” she stammered.

Rolling your eyes, you grabbed her shoulders and pushed her towards your friend. “Ray!” you greeted excitedly. “This is Rose! She loves espressos and photography.”

The shy boy put his hand out for Rose to shake. “Hi,” he whispered nervously. “I like your jacket. The flower is...gorgeous. What is it?”

Rose grinned. “A dahlia,” she replied, finally going back to her normal, extroverted self.

You sent Ray a big thumbs up from behind along with an exaggerated wink before heading back to the boys.

You saw Alex awkwardly shuffling his feet while Luke, Reggie, and Bobby were dancing and making complete fools of themselves, but that was kind of the point wasn’t it.

So you made your way to him, grabbing his hands and pulling him more into the dance floor with you.

“Come on Alex you gotta let loose!” you insisted while attempting to twirl him around.

“Um who are you and what did you do with the real (Y/N)?” he joked and you rolled your eyes.

“Already been over this Mercer! Seriously though, I know you get anxious and nervous, I do too and you know what helps me?” you whispered. “Singing,”

“Actually?”

“Yeah! It calms me down,” you admitted. “So come on, you know the song! Belt it with me!”

Alex scrunched his nose and you frowned and started to sing, proving to him just how much it could help.

Slowly he got more comfortable until it felt like it was just the two of you dancing around like friends did and singing Whitney Huston’s greatest hit.

“Oh, I wanna dance with somebody! I wanna feel the heat with somebody! Yeah, I wanna dance with somebody! With somebody who loves me!”

Alex, finally out of his shell, danced along energetically to the music with your hands intertwined. Occasionally he would pull you close and spin you like no one was around. You had to admit, the boy had a talent for dancing. He would definitely make Mrs. Leona proud.

Reggie watched you and Alex dance and fool around, laughing with your heads tilted back. Reggie couldn’t help but smile as you belted the lyrics with Alex joining in. He was shocked, to say the least, to see Alex so carefree. You really did bring out the best in people. He would know, you brought out the best in him.

Reggie barely noticed Bobby walk over to him, his eyes following Reggie’s to the dancing friends. The boy smirked, shaking his head. “You got it bad, don’t you?”

Reggie couldn’t help but nod. “Yeah, I do,” was all he could say.

“You gonna do anything about it?” Luke joined in and Reggie shrugged.

“I don’t know. Sometimes I wonder if maybe if I say something or do something, that look she has, how happy she is, it’s gonna change and I don’t want that to happen,” he admitted.

“I know it’s a weird thing to ask, but what do you like most about her?” Bobby asked.

Reggie had a stupid smile on his face, shaking his head and covering his mouth with his hand,

“Everything,” he shrugged his shoulders. “Absolutely everything,”

You and Alex had since then finished dancing to the song and ran up to the other three boys who were chatting. You were out of breath with a huge grin on your face when you looked at Reggie who couldn’t stop thinking about how adorable you looked with your flushed cheeks.

“Everything alright Flicka?” you asked.

“Everything’s perfect, Cookie,” he nodded.

And perfect it was.

—

You sighed as Rose brushed through your hair for probably the millionth time that hour.

“Can you guys at least explain what you’re doing to me?” you whined. “I feel like I’ve been sitting here for ages and have like...a hundred layers of makeup on my face.”

Alex glanced up from the random magazine he found on Rose’s bedroom floor. “Nope,” he responded, sprawled lazily on Rose’s bed. “You’re going to find out soon enough.”

You grumbled to yourself. “If you make me look like a clown, Rose-”

Rose laughed, taking a lipstick tube and swiping it against your bottom lip. “You’re fine,” she reassured you. “Besides, this is my work we’re talking about. I have skills, and I’m going to flaunt them.” You giggled, finally relaxing as the girl continued to fix your hair and makeup.

Nearly another hour passed when Alex glanced at the clock. “Shoot, we have to be at the arcade in twenty minutes.”

You rolled your eyes. “And with your grandpa driving, we’re not going to get there until the next decade.”

Alex rolled off the bed, waving his keys in front of your face. “Who’s the one with the driver’s license again?” he asked.

You stuck your tongue out at him. “Fuck you, my driver’s instructor totally had it out for me. And you don’t even have a real van, it's a minivan.”

Alex flipped you off. “Haha, now let’s get going.”

“One second,” Rose said. The girl reached into your jewelry box, pulling out your horseshoe necklace. Before you could protest, she clasped it around your neck. With an approving smile, Rose pulled you up to your feet. “Come on, Cinderella,” she teased. “You’re ready for the ball.”

“Let’s stop by the studio first,” you said, straightening out your white shirt. “I left my bag in there.”

You and Rose made your way to the studio, parting so that you can grab your bag that was sitting on the coffee table. Rose followed close behind, picking up the lone red flannel on the couch. Walking behind you, Rose quickly tied the flannel around your waist.

“Rose, what’s this for?” you asked, eyeing the flannel.

She waved your question off casually. “It completes the look,” she explained. “Now, let’s get to the van before Alex leaves us!”

You hopped in the van with Rose as Alex drove off to the arcade, much faster than necessary to prove he wasn’t a slow driver, not that you thought this was how he was going to retaliate that comment.

By the time you reached there Luke, Bobby, and Reggie were all waiting by the claw machine.

“What took you guys so long?” Bobby asked and you pointed at both Alex and Rose in blame.

“Wow, I think I just saw the bus that you decided to throw us under,” Rose shook her head, turning it just the right direction to see a certain amateur photographer sitting at one of the tables with a few friends. Immediately, her face turned into a million shades of red.

“Oh is that Ray?” Luke asked, quickly joining in on the conversation.

“Um, can we maybe address that later?” Reggie asked. “Cause I’m pretty sure that’s my flannel,” he pointed to the fabric tied around your waist.

“Oh my God is it? Is it? I knew it looked familiar,” you said while trying to untie it from your waist but Reggie put a hand on yours, stopping you from doing so.

“It’s fine Cookie,” he shrugged. “Keep it, I have a few. It looks good on you,”

You blushed and nodded, tightening the flannel again around your waist.

“Okay, so what’s the first thing you guys normally do?” you asked, knowing them they probably did some sort of voodoo ritual before playing games, they were weird like that. “Oh and Rose you should call Ray over to join us cause if you don’t I will,” you said in a sing-song voice. Rose’s face turned red as she repeatedly shook her head.

Luke called out to the group to get everyone’s attention. “Game plan, kids,” he said.

You rolled your eyes. “Of course there’s a game plan,” you groaned.

The guitarist shot you a look before continuing. “Anyway,” he said. “First we start with the basketball shooting game, then we work down the aisle, all the way down to the claw machines. Don’t spend any longer than five minutes on each claw machine game. We all know those games are bullshit. If you have any coins left, use them on the game you’re best at.”

You made a sour face. “Yet you guys call me the nerd of the group,” you scoffed, crossing your arms on your chest.

“Hey, don’t disrespect the arcade kings,” Bobby shot back. “We practically own this arcade.”

“Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night.”

“(Y/N) why don’t you come with me and play some basketball,” Alex suggested.

“You’re just saying that cause you know my hand-eye coordination sucks and you wanna see me fail,” you said sticking your tongue out at him.

“Yeah and I’m not even gonna deny it, come on,” Alex said, dragging you over to where the game was and placing some tokens in the machine.

“Alex,” you whined. “I don’t wanna,”

He shot you a grin in your direction. “Let’s play, and the loser has to pay for pizza later?”

You narrowed your eyes in determination. “You’re on, Mercer.”

Time continued to fly by faster than you preferred. You and Alex had played every game nearly three times now and you were running low on coins and energy. Losing count on your wins, the two of you decided to call it a tie.

“Let’s go sit by the skeeball machines,” you suggested.

Slightly out of breath from running down the aisles to race you, Alex nodded gratefully. Hand in hand, you guided Alex through the waves of teens and children to finally find the benches in the quietest — well as quiet as an arcade can get — part of the building.

You glanced over at Alex, his cheeks flushed from playing. “You want me to go get you some water?” you asked, slightly concerned.

“If it’s not too much trouble,” he said, smiling slightly.

Standing up, you made your way to the vending machines, only to be stopped by the sound of a high pitched giggle. Hiding behind one of the game machines, you peeked to see Reggie and some blonde girl talk to each other. They were standing far too close for your liking as the girl pulled Reggie down to her level, whispering something in his ear that made him laugh.

Your face was burning. Something about the two of them together didn’t sit well with you. After a second of thinking, you decided you were upset because Reggie left you guys to go hang out with some girl. You were upset about the band not spending time together. Definitely not because Reggie was talking to another girl...smiling at her the way he does with you, and holding her waist like he did with you during your dance detention, and absolutely not because he’s joking around with her like he used to with you.

Ripping your eyes away from them, you stormed back to Alex, chucking the water bottle at him. The poor boy barely caught it, raising an eyebrow in confusion at you.

“(N/N), you okay?” he asked, setting his water bottle down to place his hand on your knee.

You nodded rigidly. “Of course I am,” you briskly answered.

“Sorry (N/N), I know fine and this clearly isn’t it,” Alex countered, still not understanding what was going on until he stood up to take a quick stretch, seeing Reggie tucked away by one of the arcade games with another girl. “Oh, I see,”

“What do you mean you see?” you asked. “There’s nothing to see,”

“Um I’d beg to differ,” Alex countered yet again. “(Y/N) if you’re upset you should just go talk to him, I’m sure Reggie will be reasonable.”

“Yeah right, reasonable is Reggie’s middle name,” you said sarcastically.

“(Y/N),” Alex said pleaded, “I swear to sweet little baby Jesus just go to him, please, put me out of my misery,”

“I guess you’re going to have to suffer,” you said stubbornly, making Alex roll his eyes and groan.

Luke and Bobby ran up to you guys. “We think it’s time we head back to the studio,” Luke told you two. “It’s nearly dark, and you know how much Alex hates driving at night.”

Alex shuddered. “Fine, let’s go,” he said before turning to you. “Don’t think we’re done with this conversation.”

The entire group filed into the car, Rose giving Ray a kiss on the cheek before joining you. Rose began to tell you about her little date, not skipping any detail. For the time you were together, you started to forget why you were mad.

But then Reggie entered the van. “Hey guys!” he greeted energetically, finding his spot in the back. You remained silent while everyone else said their “hellos.”

“How was everyone’s time at the arcade?” he continued to talk. Reggie glanced over at you. “Did you win against Alex? I know he’s terrible at playing games, but so are you so it’s an equal playing field.”

Normally, you would have laughed. But this time, you didn’t even look him in the eye. “It was fine,” you said stiffly.

Reggie snorted. “Just fine, come on, Cookie, I-”

“Why don’t you tell us about that girl you were talking to the entire time, then?” you cut him off, staring out the window to stop yourself from crying.

“What girl?” Rose asked, whipping her head around and narrowing her eyes.

“No one” he answered quickly.

You scoffed, crossing your arms on your chest. “So it’s okay for you to lie, but not me?” you muttered.

Reggie raised an eyebrow at your weird behaviour, but remained silent for the rest of the ride. If there was something wrong, he’d talk to you properly, and in private.

The moment Alex parked in the driveway, you quickly unbuckled your seatbelt and left the van with Rose glued to your side.

“What happened?” Rose asked in a hushed voice.

“Nothing!” you said frustratedly. “You and Alex keep on making things out of nothing. I’m telling you, there’s nothing wrong.”

As the night continued, you were still bitter towards Reggie, occasionally throwing out a sarcastic remark towards him. The group, to say the least, was very confused as to how your friendship with Reggie somehow shattered in just five hours.

“Let’s watch another movie,” Rose proposed after the first movie ended. Everyone else nodded, as Reggie piped up,

“Can we watch Star Wars?” he asked. “I’m really in the mood to-”

You groaned. “Will you just shut up,”

Reggie looked over at you stunned and just before Luke was going to say something Reggie grabbed your arm and looked at you with a serious face,

“Can I talk to you? Alone,” he said cooly.

You were about to respond with a sarcastic retort, but he stopped you by pulling you up and dragging you out of the studio into the brick open-spaced area around the rock garden.

“What the hell (Y/N),” he deadpanned.

“What do you mean what the hell?” you asked innocently and Reggie scoffed, letting go of your arm and looking away.

“Enough of the fucking bullshit (Y/N)!”

“What bullshit Reggie please enlighten me because I wasn’t the one ditching the gang to spend time with some random blonde,”

“You have no right!” Reggie angrily exclaimed, pointing roughly at you. His eyes were dark with anger, unlike anything you’ve seen before. “You have no right to say- t-to act like a child after what happened?”

You rolled your eyes. “What are you talking about?” you demanded.

Reggie laughed to himself, frustratedly running his fingers through his hair before looking back at you. “I don’t fucking understand you,” he hissed. “You’re so frustrating and unpredictable. First, you joke around with me, blush when I tell jokes or better yet flirt, but the moment I step out of line even an inch, you turn around and hate me again! I don’t get it, what the fuck do you want from me?”

“I want you!” you cried out. “Dammit, Reggie. I want you, but sometimes you’re so far up your ass you can’t even tell!”

“Me?” he yelled back. “I gave you so many chances. You wanted time? I gave you plenty of it! I have you so many opportunities that you ignored so don’t you fucking dare pin this on me.” Reggie didn’t bother letting you try and defend yourself. “You said it yourself, you wondered when people will leave you, and that you’ll be left alone again. Here’s the reality, (Y/N). People don’t leave you, you push them away. You put the blame on everyone but yourself, so all you’re left with are your own broken pieces. Face it, you’ve never changed.”

You staggered back, feeling as though you were caught under a wave of emotions. He was right. Every single word he said...was right. And damn, it hurt so much to realize it.

Reggie looked up from his shoes. “I want that necklace back,” he said in a low voice. “I don’t want to see you with it, or any piece of me, ever again. You hear me? I’m done. I’m done with your mind games. I’m tired of waiting for you. I’m done with you.”

There it was. The moment you were waiting for, the reason for Reggie to step out of your life again. Or, in reality, the reason that made Reggie realize you weren’t worth it anymore.

You quickly unclasped the necklace, throwing it on the ground along with his flannel.

Before leaving, you looked at him one more time. “It was always me, wasn’t it?” you whispered in a broken voice. “I was always the reason. The problem. The second choice. Right?” Reggie refused to look you in the eye. You wiped away your tears, a sad attempt to, really. More tears just took their place.

“I tried, Reggie,” you told him in a quiet voice. “I really did. B-but if I’m the only thing that’s holding you back, then let me go.”

Reggie remained silent. Taking it as your cue to leave, you ran down the street, not bothering to say goodbye to your friends.

And just like that, you were alone again. Just like you predicted.

—

As if your week couldn’t get any worse, the universe didn’t fail you. You had detention with him. And even better, you were forced to sit in silence with him.

Seriously you thought to yourself Did he actually fall asleep while supervising detention.

Mr. Alderman, the gym teacher, was fast asleep, snoring at his desk.

You hadn’t spoken since your fight a few nights ago, the emotions still fresh under your skin, burning your eyes and throat, just making you wish for it to end.

Reggie muttered something under his breath and for the first time in a few days you took a good look at him.

His eyes were sunken and he seemed angry. It radiated off him like light bouncing off a mirror.

“Have something to say, Peters,” you whispered quietly.

“Yeah, I’m leaving,” he nodded, standing up and grabbing his bag.

“You can’t leave,” you said flatly.

“Watch me,” he turned his back and you followed him out of the class and into the hallway.

“Reggie stop,”

“No (Y/N)! I’m not stopping anymore! I’m not waiting anymore!”

“I’m not asking you to do that Reggie! It’s me, I’m leaving okay?!” you exclaimed.

“W-What?” his voice grew quiet.

“I’m transferring out at the end of the week,” you look at him with stone-cold eyes. “Not that you would care.”

“(Y/N), you...Wait you can’t-!”

“Stop telling me what I can and can't do Reggie! I hate that my fucking feelings are controlled by you! I hate that my entire life will be spent trying to find someone to live up to you! I just want some fucking peace and quiet for once in my life!” you sobbed, unable to bottle things up anymore. “I work and I work and I work and I get nothing! I try and I try and I try and I still get nothing! And maybe that’s because I can’t be in control when I’m around you so yes I’m leaving!”

Reggie didn’t say anything, he just stared at you blankly, the only sound in the empty hallways was that of your soft cries.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you choked out, turning around and running out through the back of the school and into the pouring rain, not even bothering to hide for cover under the pavilion; falling to your knees and wrapping your arms around your waist as the most devastating sounds ripped from your heart and soul.

You cried until you couldn’t cry anymore. Scream until your throat was raw. Pulled at your hair and kicked yourself, ashamed and frustrated, until the pain was too much. But even then, it could never match the pain you were feeling in your heart.

It felt good, felt right to feel this way. Ever since middle school, you had been told you were a robot, an emotionless nothing.

Look at you now. Crying like everything had up and left in your life because it did. You were alone, left behind to pick up your broken pieces. Just like Reggie said.

You hated how Reggie was right about everything. You had no right to be mad because it was true. You pushed everyone away, placed the blame on them so that you didn’t have to get hurt. Is this how he felt? Did you ever make him feel this way?

The cold air angrily nipped at your fingertips, your eyes red from the weather and your tears. Turning your head, you looked at the school door, internally hoping that maybe it would swing open. Maybe Reggie would come out of the building and take you in his arms and tell you that everything will be alright.

The door never opened. Reggie never came. You were left alone with your thoughts in the pavilion.

And the rain continued to pour on and on.

—

Reggie was distracted the entire practice. His fingers would roughly strum against his strings as he stared off into the distance, a faraway look on his face.

Luke, having noticed Reggie’s odd behaviour, stopped playing.

“Hey, Reg you wanna cool it on those strings?” Luke asked.

“Or does he need to mention how much money we have combined,” Bobby added.

“It’s negative seven hundred forty-five dollars and thirty-two cents.” Luke deadpanned and Alex rolled his eyes.

“Are you mad at Alex again?” Bobby asked and for a moment the blond drummer looked frightened.

“No, it’s not that,” Reggie shook his head.

“It’s (Y/N), isn’t it,” Rose said softly, looking at the bassist with sympathetic eyes. Just as Reggie was about to ask how she knew, Rose answered the question. “You keep looking at the spot on the couch where she used to sit during practices,”

Reggie chewed hard on the inside of his cheek while Luke came closer to him, laying a hand on his shoulder.

“You don’t need to bottle it up,” Luke whispered. “We’re here for you. You know that.”

“I messed up,” the tone of his voice was wavering as he tried to make sure it didn’t crack. “I messed up so fucking bad. The only thing I’m good at is pushing the good things in my life away until I fuck it up entirely. I’m a time bomb. It’s only going to get worse the longer people are around me,”

Reggie carefully slid his bass’ strap off his shoulder and placed his instrument against the couch where you would normally sit.

“No you’re not,” Alex told him, quickly coming to join Luke next to his friend. Bobby and Rose followed soon after and before long Reggie’s head was tucked in Luke’s shoulder as tears finally streamed from his eyes and his friends surrounded him like a shield from the cruel world.

“Aren’t I?” Reggie croaked. “I can't even talk to you guys without exploding or storming off, a-and (Y/N), she’ll never forgive me for all the things I’ve said and done… I don’t deserve any of your guys,”

“Reggie cariño, everyone deserves a family,” Rose said in a soothing voice. “And we’re each other’s family. Family sticks together no matter what, even if you don’t think they should.”

“And what about (Y/N)?” he whispered. “How could I possibly erase all that?”

“You don’t,” Luke spoke up. “You use it, use it to apologize. Use it,” he repeated, placing his songwriting pen in Reggie’s hand.

Reggie bit his lips and took the pen from Luke, seeing his tattered red book resting on the couch.

He was sure it wasn’t the first time he wrote something for you and it definitely wouldn’t be the last, but it just might have been the first one you’d hear, so it had to be perfect.

And somehow, just like you’d always managed to do, the only thing on Reggie Peters's mind was his Cookie.

—

“Rose I already said I don’t want to come here,” you sighed as your friend dragged you through the crowd of people waiting to get into the show.

“(Y/N) come on, these are your friends! They want you to be here,” she tried to convince you, but you were still skeptical, and it didn’t help that you didn’t know if you wanted to see Reggie or not right now.

Rose gave you another tug, but you dug your heels into the ground. The girl sighed, giving you a look. “It’s your last day as a Los Feliz high student,” she told you softly. You stiffened at her words, looking down at the floor. “At least spend it with us. Then, I’ll leave you be. I promise. You don’t have to see another gig -better yet, another bass- ever again. Will you do at least that for me?”

You finally glanced up from the ground. “For you,” you answered begrudgingly.

“What’s up Los Feliz High,” Luke said into the mic and was met with cheers.

“We’re Sunset Curve,” Reggie added. “And this is a little something we wrote called I Remember,”

There was a soft opening with Reggie’s bass and Alex on drums, slowly layering in the guitar riff intro before Reggie came close to his mic,

“I remember those nights, stayin’ up late, listenin’ to the radio.

I remember the days, callin’ your name, running to your patio,”

Rose glanced over at you, grinning as you tried to listen to the lyrics, finding a sense of familiarity in the words. Luke and Bobby now joined as backing vocals taking a lower and higher harmony.

“And as the years went by slowly you - left my life and I can’t, I can’t, I can’t figure out why, why?”

Alex led to the chorus with a drum fill before the hard rock beat came in, Reggie, Luke, and Bobby really getting into playing to the beat and rhythm, before all coming in again singing the chorus.

“So tell me, tell me when it all fell apart. Tell me, tell me can we go back to the start.”

The music backing instruments quieted slowly as Reggie leaned into his mic, looking directly at you. Your breath hitched at you finally made eye contact with him. You hadn’t bothered to look at him in so long, you wanted to burn the feeling into your memory so you never forget. His eyes glistened with tears as he began to sing,

“Tell me, tell me what happened to us Cookie,”

You looked over at Rose who only smiled knowingly as you tried to hide the fact that you were most definitely losing your composure, your heart beating faster and your vision becoming blurry.

“I remember I hurt you, a stain on my heart that’ll never go away. I remember I kissed you, my heart said to stay but my feet ran away.”

They transitioned back to the chorus and you couldn’t help but try to push back the lump in your throat as you looked up at your Flicka, singing for you. Reggie took the mic and walked over to you. His hand was stretched out to you, face lighting up in hope. Pushing down all your doubts, you took his hand in yours, squeezing it tight.

“And I promise, I promise, I promise I’ll never go away. And I promise I promise, I promise I’ll be there every day. Just tell me, just tell me, just tell me you’ll look the other way. Cause if I lost you one more time I don’t think that I’d survive,”

Tears streamed down your face as you listened to the lyrics, each word slowly chipping down the walls you put up around your heart. Reggie leaned in close, removing his hand from yours and placing it on the side of your face, wiping away your stray tears.

“So tell me, tell me when it all fell apart. Tell me, tell me can we go back to the start.”

The music slowed and quieted one last time, Reggie’s eyes interlocked with yours as he sang the last line,

“Tell me, tell me, will you be mine Cookie?”

Silence followed as everyone turned to you, waiting for your answer. You glanced over at Rose, who was just as impatient.

Locking eyes with Reggie, you nodded. “As long as you’ll be mine, Flicka,” you whispered so that only he could hear.

Not waiting any longer, Reggie dropped his microphone, hopping down from the stage and taking both sides of your face and pulling you into a long-awaited kiss. The crowd cheered, but your mind blocked them out.

You missed Reggie’s lips that tasted faintly of that cherry chapstick he always used. You missed feeling his hands against yours, warm and comforting.

You missed your Reggie. But now he was here, and he was never letting you go.

—

“Lady Bunny!” Luke cheered, running up to you backstage and pulling you into the tightest squeeze. “I missed you so much,” he whispered and you held him close against you.

“I missed you too, mom,” you sniffled while Luke pressed a friendly kiss to your hair before you were promptly tossed around the group, hugs and all exchanged along with the chatter of

“You’re gonna stay, right? You can’t transfer now,”

All to which the answer was yes, especially when you looked over at Reggie, the brightest smile on his face.

“Hey guys can I have a minute alone with Cookie?” he asked and they all complied, moving out of the way of the new couple.

“Have something for me Flicka?” you asked, slight teasing in your voice.

“Actually, yeah,” he nodded, fishing out a necklace from his pocket. “I shouldn’t have taken it from you. Or told you that you were the problem. You never were, I promise.”

“Water under the bridge,” you smiled shyly. “What matters is that you’re here now.” You turned around, allowing him to clip the silver chain around your neck, not without sneaking a quick peck to the corner of your lips after turning you back around.

“Perfect,” he told you, his lips quirking up into a smile. “You’re perfect.”

“And you’re overly cheesy,” you shot back jokingly.

Reggie grasped his chest in feigned hurt. “You love me, Cookie,” he pouted.

You went on the tips of your toes, kissing him softly. “Yeah, Flicka,” you whispered. “I do.”

--

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[the-awkward-outlaw]

Could you do one where Arthur has an obvious crush on the reader and the girls at camp notice so they tease you about it?

Hello, Anon! Thanks for sending this one in! I’m not entirely happy with it, but honestly I tried to rewrite it and it ended up in the same way, so I guess this is just the way it is. 

Masterlist

Read on AO3

Arthur leans against one of the wagons, cigarette in hand. He lifts it up to take a smoke, watching as you walk past on the other side of camp. His free hand is looped around his belt, watching you unashamedly. Normally he wouldn’t be so open about watching you like this, but he thinks he’s alone. 

He’s had a crush on you for a few weeks now. You were brought into the gang a few months back and you and Arthur hit it off almost immediately, becoming fast friends. You weren’t sure what to think of him at first, but you thought he was a good man and a quick gun to have around if you needed it. You eventually grew to find you loved him, though you were too nervous to do anything about it. 

He didn’t feel anything romantic towards you for a long time either. That was until he got in a gunfight with a couple of O’Driscolls. You happened to be there too, and even though he killed most of them, you got one or two of them. However, Arthur didn’t leave the fight unscathed. He’d been grazed just above the elbow by a bullet. You immediately started to treat him, going on and on about how the wound could get infected and he could lose the arm. He kept saying you were being ridiculous and to stop making a fuss, but he secretly loved it. Your touch was so delicate and smooth he wouldn’t forget it ever. 

After that, something changed between the two of you. You didn’t act any differently, but Arthur started to. He started getting more eager to see you after being gone for days, wanted to take you out on jobs more often, just sit and talk to you. Then after a couple of weeks, he grew very distant and almost cold towards you. This hurt because you’d become very good friends and even trusted each other. You’d no idea why he did it, but it was because he was scared he might ruin things with his affections. So he figured the best thing to do was distance himself. 

That didn’t work though as he just couldn’t control himself around you. He kept approaching you, talking to you. By this time too everyone knew you were one of his preferred accomplices in jobs so they often volunteered you. Especially Hosea. He knew your feelings about Arthur as he was one of the few you’d confided in. He also thought you and Arthur would be perfect for eachother, you had habits and behaviors that suited one another, and you seemed to help keep Arthur calm and cool (though you could be quick and fiery too when needed). 

When distancing didn’t work, Arthur decided to try and go back to just being friends, but this had drawbacks too. He could control himself even less and by this time, many of the others were beginning to notice. Up in Colter, he had to endure a lot of teasing from Lenny, Bill and John (though he was quite laid up). Arthur had been wanting to get you alone to try and perhaps cuddle with you, so he made up a whole bunch of excuses in front of the others, like maybe you’d want to help him make a fire in a different building, there wasn’t enough space in the building you were in with the others, that he could use a hunting party. All of these excuses were picked up easily by the other girls, but Grimshaw prevented you from going with him. The ultimate blocker, ol’ Grimshaw. 

When the gang got down to Horseshoe Overlook and things settled down, the girls started to giggle when they saw Arthur trying to flirt with you, and you being completely oblivious. You didn’t pick up on it because you were trying to deny your own feelings for him and firmly believed that a man such as Arthur would have any interest in you. 

Arthur lowers his cigarette, a light smile on his lips as he blows out. He can’t keep his mind from drifting off to the last outing he had with you. He’d taken you to Valentine, bought you a nice meal and a few supplies from the store, then the two of you robbed the doctor who happened to be running an outlet for O’Driscolls. 

You go and sit on a crate near the wagons that provide shelters for the other girls during the night. Humming, you take out your needle and thread and begin stitching up one of Sean’s shirt after he’d fallen and ripped the sleeve. 

You hear people walking over and muffled giggling. Looking up, you smile at Mary-Beth, Karen and Tilly. Mary-Beth and Tilly try settling down, though they slip and giggle a couple times. Karen puts her hands on her hips and grins down at you. 

“What?” you demand.

They all giggle and sit down on the other crates, pretending to be working to appease Grimshaw. Still giggling, they all look up at you. 

“What’s so funny?” you say. Shit, they aren’t laughing about your fabulous cooking mishap from last night still, are they? You’d been helping Pearson by cutting up potatoes for the stew. Arthur had walked past and given you his adorable finger gun wave, which caused you to forget that you hadn’t cut up the potato you had in hand and tossed it whole into the pot. Pearson saw it and immediately chewed you out, making you fish it out. Your arm soaked in the heavily salted liquids, your face flushed, Arthur headed back over to you to talk a bit. Not wanting to look like an idiot, you threw the potato behind you, effectively hitting poor Kieran in the head as he fed the chickens, and hid your arm behind you so Arthur wouldn’t see how much of a mess you were. 

“Please don’t bring the stew thing up again,” you plead, rolling your eyes. 

“Oh, you know we will,” Karen says heartily. “But we ain’t here to rib you about that.” 

You sigh. “What? Did I do something else stupid?” 

Tilly giggles, but it’s Mary-Beth who speaks. “Oh, Y/N, nothin’ like that. It’s just… you two would be so cute together!” 

“Who you talkin’ about?” 

“You and Arthur,” Tilly says. “Everyone knows the two of you like each other.” 

You feel your stomach clench a bit. Okay maybe you haven’t exactly been subtle in your flirting, but he certainly has not reciprocated that.

“It… it ain’t like that, girls. He’s just a nice man.” 

“A nice man?” Karen says. “Okay, sure, Arthur’s got a soft side, but I wouldn’t exactly categorize him as a nice man. Nah, I reckon he’s sweet on you.” 

“No, he’s not,” you say, getting frustrated. You wish they’d stop, it’s only going to get your hopes up. 

“Fine, let us show you then,” Karen goes on. “Ladies, go to work.” 

You have no idea what she means as she gestures to Tilly and Mary-Beth. They giggle, then collect themselves, then Tilly turns to Mary-Beth and asks her about the latest book she’s been reading. Mary-Beth goes on about how it’s a romance and the way she tells it, it sounds very cheesy and predictable. They don’t bother keeping their voices down, which doesn’t bother you. 

When you peak up at them, still sewing Sean’s shirt, you see Arthur walking over. This makes you nervous. How will the girls react to him being close to you? Of course, Arthur’s very curious and likes to know what’s going on in the gang, so him being attracted to the conversation isn’t anything unusual. He stops and leans against the pole that holds up the canvas over your heads, his hands gripping his belt, a soft smile on his lips. God, why does he have to look so good in front of you like this? Can’t he do it when you can be alone and feast your eyes on him? 

“Oh Lord,” Tilly says when Mary-Beth finishes talking about the book. “That sounds completely ridiculous.” 

“Oh it is! But I love it,” Mary-Beth says breathily. 

“Could… could I maybe read it?” Tilly asks. 

The two smile at each other and then glance at Arthur. “We ain’t botherin’ you, are we, Mr. Morgan?” 

“Nah. I just like hearin’ you ladies talk,” he says in that gentle tone of his. You smile and look down, loving how much of a closeted sweetheart he is. Arthur’s the only man you know who can be scary as hell one second and be gentle and soft a minute later. His eyes glide over to you and his smile widens. He tips his hat. “Hello, Ms. (your last name).” 

You blush. “Hello, Mr. Morgan.” 

He stands there for a few more seconds, watching your hands move. Stupidly, you feel like you’ve forgotten how to sew in front of him, pricking yourself twice and having to remove four stitches. A small snort escapes Tilly and you feel like kicking her. 

Finally, thankfully, Arthur straightens up and heads off, disappearing around John’s tent. You let out a big sigh, knowing it’s fruitless to pretend like you haven’t got a thing for him. The girls already know, after all. 

“See what I mean?” Karen says. 

“That wasn’t unusual, Karen. He does that shit all the time.” 

“Listening in on conversations? Sure. But didn’t you notice you were the only one he greeted? That man’s sweet on you.” 

“He… he’s not! I promise you girls, we’re just friends.” 

“Really?” Tilly says. “Then how about this: you go over to him right now, do something that only a person who was sweet on him would do, and see how he reacts.”

“And what the hell would a person who’s sweet on him do?” You’re starting to get irritated again. Why can’t they just drop this?

“Oh you could touch his arm, pretend like you have a secret you wanna tell and whisper in his ear, play with your hair in front of him. Ain’t like it’ll be hard for you to pretend to be sweet on him,” Mary-Beth says. 

“I ain’t doin’ that,” you say flatly. 

“Fine. But we’re just gonna keep on teasin’ you,” Tilly says with a cocky grin. 

“Oh my God. Fine! I’ll go act stupid around him if it means you three will shut up!” 

Throwing down your sewing, you find Arthur standing near his tent, picking through the ammo supplies and slipping some boxes of bullets into his satchel. Your heart’s pounding in your chest, your palms sweating. What if they’re wrong and Arthur doesn’t feel anything for you? Then you’ll just be standing here acting like a complete fool. Worse yet, what if they’re right? 

“H-hey Arthur,” you say, trying to swallow your nerves. 

He looks over at you and smiles. “Hello, miss.” 

“H-hey, Arthur. I was wondering if maybe you’d like to go hunting with me? I… I could use some time out and Pearson says he’s low on meat.”

That’s a damn lie, Pearson’s practically stuffed with meat from your last hunting trip. Hopefully Arthur doesn’t know that. 

“Sure. When you wanna go?” 

You swallow again, amazed that he’s already keen. “Um… when-whenever. It doesn’t have to be now. I mean, if you got stuff to do then you got stuff to do. I can just hang out until you’re done.” 

You start babbling on, feeling stupider by the second. How the hell does he not see right through you. However, he stands patiently in front of you, the softest smile on his lips and his eyes crinkled at the corners. After a second, he raises his hand to stop you talking, a faint chuckle leaving his throat. 

“Miss, we can go whenever you’d like. Now if you want, even. I’m free. Let me just get a couple more things, and I’ll meet you by the horses.” 

Feeling eyes on your back, you know now is your time to make a move. Your heart in your throat and feeling like you’re about to poop out your stomach, you smile up at him. “Thanks, Mr. Morgan. By the way, I have something for you. Way to thank you for getting me that book last week.” 

You reach into your own satchel and pull out a box of premium cigarettes, knowing he’s trying to collect cards for some stranger he met not too long ago. When he grabs it, you don’t let go. Instead you intentionally run your fingers across his hand, though try to make it look unintentional. 

Immediately his hand freezes upon your touch. Then, just as you’re about to drop your hand, his turns to meet your palm with his. He gives it the gentlest and briefest of squeezes. Forgetting that you have an audience, your hand slowly slides up his arm, you take a step forward. Your hand settles on his shoulder, your eyes glued to his. His hand settles, almost nervously on your waist, slowly pulling you closer. Before either of you really knows what’s happening, you reach up on your toes and gently touch his lips with yours. Instead of pulling away like you thought he might, he responds eagerly. He moves his mouth with yours and both his arms pull you to his firm body. 

After a second, you come to your senses and pull away quickly, your face flushed. “I-I’m sorry, Mr. Morgan. I don’t know what came over me.”

He lets out a long breath and then smiles, hiding his eyes beneath his hat. “That’s a’right. If… If you don’t mind me sayin’, I… rather liked it.” 

You blink rapidly. He liked it? The girls were right? What the hell? You hear a sharp giggle somewhere behind you and turn to glare at Tilly and Mary-Beth. Feeling frustrated by your audience, you turn back to him. 

“Arthur, would you mind if we left now? I feel this is not the wisest place for us to… be around each other, if you know what I mean.” 

His eyes land on the girls and he too blushes. He nods and puts his hand on your shoulder, leading you off to the horses. When the two of you are mounted up, you run down to the river beneath the Overlook. There, standing on the edge of the river, bathed in hot sunlight, you kiss Arthur again, only this time it’s much more passionate with less hesitation. His hands feel right on your back and shoulders while your own whip off his hat, winding into his hair. 

After enjoying the steamy makeout session, Arthur takes you to the base of a tree, sits down and gestures for you to settle against him. You sit in his lap, tucked against his side and your head on his chest. His arm is draped lazily around your shoulders, his hand settled on yours as it rests on his stomach. You watch the stream roll by, the birds whistling to one another. A doe grazes not far away, completely unaware of your presence, but you’ve no intention of showing yourself. You’re too happy, too comfortable, nestled against Arthur. His heart pumps steadily in your ear as a light breeze brushes through your hair. All is quiet. 

[sad-sweet-cowboah]

Ups and Downes

Summary: You decide to tag along with Arthur in collecting debts.

Warnings: Mentions of violence, mentions of smut

Soft noises from aroused you from your comfortable sleep. You blinked your eyes open, clearing the bleariness as you were greeted with the familiar sight of yours and Arthur’s shared tent. The empty space next to you indicated that he’d woken up already, as usual, somehow managing not to disturb you in the process.

The camp was already bustling. As you sat up and stretched your stiff muscles, you stood up and peered outside, taking note of the activities. Tilly, Mary-Beth, and Karen were gathering laundry under Miss Grimshaw’s watchful eye. John and Javier were caught in the middle of a Five-Finger Filet match. Uncle complained loudly about his lumbago to Lenny, and Abigail sat in an undisturbed corner with Jack, reading him a story book. Pearson was cooking as usual. Charles seemed to be creating some arrows. Dutch and Hosea were nearby Dutch’s tent, speaking to one another, no doubt about the bonds they’d just acquired from the Cornwall train heist.

The sun was already high in the sky, most likely late morning. Your eyes scanned the campsite a few times. The others were accounted for, although Arthur was nowhere to be seen. Your next instinct was to look over toward the horses to see his was still here. Frowning in confusion, you stepped out into the open.

Your unasked question was answered when you saw him walking toward you from the edge of camp. You smiled and crossed over to meet him halfway, until you noticed the disdainful expression on his face.

“Mornin, Y/N.” he greeted you as you opened your mouth. He tried to sound enthusiastic yet annoyance plagued his voice.

“You let me sleep in?” you asked.

He offered a half smile and shrugged. “Figured you need it, after last night.”

You giggled slightly at his response. It’d only been a few days in Horseshoe Overlook, you both too busy for each other after coming down from the frozen mountains. Between then and Blackwater, intimacy had been hard to come by. As things were quiet for once, you decided it was time to catch up on what you both had missed. Though your pleasure was shared in hushed tones, it didn’t stop him from roughing you up. “Well, I appreciate that,” you responded. “Why do you look annoyed?”

He huffed, turning away for a moment. “Strauss. Got me doin’ his dirty work.”

“Again?” you sighed heavily. Everyone in this gang had been guilty of acquiring money in some of the most questionable ways, yet neither of you exactly approved of Strauss’s loan business. You knew Arthur hated having to collect those debts, especially since most patrons weren’t too keen on repayment. It meant Arthur would have to get physical.

“’Fraid so,” he grumbled. “Might as well get it over with…” he kissed you on the forehead before moving toward the horses.

An idea struck your mind. “Wait,” you called after him, trotting to catch up with him. He paused to look at you. “Let me go with you.”

His forehead creased with confusion. “Y/N, ain’t a good idea. Stay here and-”

“What? Do laundry?” finished, glancing back towards the girls. Somehow you’d caught Susan’s eye, and the look on that woman’s face immediately told you that she would put you to work the moment Arthur rode out. “Please, I’ve been doing nothing but chores since we got here!”

He still wasn’t convinced. “I might have to-”

“Beat someone, I know,” you finished again. “Arthur, I’ve seen you angry before. That ain’t gonna scare me.”

“Still don’t mean you have to see it,” he mumbled, ducking his head to hide his eyes behind the brim of his hat.

You reached out to him, your fingers brushing his stubbled chin to look at him directly. “Maybe you don’t have to. I could use my charm, if we’re talking about men here.”

The corner of his mouth twitched. He was the jealous type, he’d made it clear when you flirted with some drunken fool at a saloon one night, feigning it to steal money. It worked flawlessly, though Arthur expressed his displeasure later that evening. “You know how I feel ‘bout that.” He muttered gruffly.

“Of course,” you placed your other hand gently on his chest, stepping closer to him. “And you know it’s just for show.”

His eyes softened, his hand resting on the small of your back. He opened his mouth to say something else, yet you spoke again.

“If it works, then you won’t have to touch anyone. We get Strauss’s money back without spilling blood.” You explained, cupping his cheek with your hand. “Besides, it’s been a while since we’ve done anything together. Not since Blackwater.”

Arthur was silent for a moment, his blue eyes staring deep into yours. Finally, he sighed and shook his head. “Can’t say no to you, woman.”

A wide grin crossed your face, and you promptly took his hand to pull him towards his horse.

---

“Who are we looking for?” you asked Arthur as the two of you loped comfortably along a path. You didn’t have a horse yet, so you sat behind Arthur.

“Man named Thomas Downes,” he announced. “Hopefully this won’t take too long.”

After a few more minutes of riding, you arrived at a small homestead in a clearing surrounded by trees. It was a quaint little cabin, with a small vegetable garden off to the side. From here, you spotted someone tending to it, unaware of your presence.

“There he is,” Arthur mentioned to you as he brought the horse to a halt. “Go on n’ work your magic.”

Smiling, you slid off the horse’s rump and slowly walked up to the vegetable garden. The man was bent over, hoeing the ground. You cleared your throat, and he paused to look up at you.

“Oh, hello there,” he greeted somewhat warily. “May I help you?”

“Thomas Downes?” you asked with an airy voice. When he nodded, you leaned onto the fence, giving him a warm smile as well as squeezing your breasts between your arms to accentuate your cleavage. “I’m just here as a small favor for Mr. Strauss.”

The realization dawned upon Thomas as a look of concern crossed his face. “Oh-” he paused for a moment, his eyes darting nervously. “I-I need more ti-”

“Mr. Downes,” you interrupted, keeping your voice sweet. “I’m sure you understand that Mr. Strauss is a very busy man…and he likes his clients to pay on time.”

The man pursed his lips for a moment, before his eyes seemed to fixate on Arthur. You weren’t sure what Arthur did behind you, but a flicker of fear seemed to cross Thomas’ face.

“Oh, please, don’t worry about him!” you giggled lightly. “He’s just my companion.”

Thomas appeared as if he didn’t believe you. He hesitantly looked at you again. “Miss… I just need more time, please.”

You bit back a sigh, although turned your lips into a slight pout. “Don’t you even have a little bit? Because I’m sure we could…make an arrangement otherwise.” You opened the gate and stepped in, swaying your hips as you did.

“Miss, please-”

“The lady asked for the payment,” you heard Arthur’s voice grumble from behind you. You could feel his presence step up, the intimidation giving off a strong air. “And we’re here to collect. So I suggest you pay up or else.”

His eyes widened and his mouth opened, although whatever he was going to say was cut off by a sharp cough. You stepped back as he doubled over as he held his hand over his mouth, his body shuddering as the coughing fit ceased. As he stood straight again, you noted specks of blood in the palm of his hand. A frown crossed your lips.

“What’s going on?” a new voice called out. You turned to see a woman coming out of the house. Right behind her stood a teenaged boy. “Thomas? Who are these people?”

“Debt collectors, ma’am.” Arthur responded. “Your husband owes us.”

The woman hurried over to the vegetable garden, concern plain on her face. “Listen, my husband is sick.”

“That don’t matter. He still owes us.” Arthur said gruffly, folding his arms.

“Well we ain’t got nothin’!” Mrs. Downes exclaimed, anger and desperation ran clear in her voice.

“That ain’t matter,” Arthur rose his voice as he approached Thomas, his fists clenched. “You better cough up somethin’!”

Before Arthur could touch Thomas, you quickly reached out and grabbed his arm. He halted and whipped to face you, his face set in a glower. You kept yourself from flinching, understanding the anger was not toward you. Remembering what you saw just moments before, you shook your head, your eyes wide and pleading.

He seemed to understand as the rage visibly melted from his features, and the tenseness in his arm vanished. He sighed heavily.

You gaze an apologetic glance to Thomas, and turned to face his wife. “I’m sorry to have disturbed you folk.”

“Just get outta here.” Mrs. Downes snapped.

The two of you left without another word.

---

“What was that about?” Arthur broke the silence as the two of you rode back towards camp.

“I saw him cough up blood,” you replied. “Wife said he’s sick, right? Can’t be nothing good.”

Arthur let out another sigh. “Still think I shoulda roughened him up a bit. They musta had somethin’. They always do.”

“I don’t think so,” you murmured. “Something tells me they’re really struggling.”

“Strugglin’ or not, Strauss ain’t gonna be happy.” Arthur grumbled.

You didn’t respond, your arms squeezed him a little tighter as you buried your face into the soft fabric of his shirt.

You arrived back in camp early that evening, your mind still on what happened earlier. Whatever Thomas Downes was ill with, it seemed serious. Arthur could have been right, they could have something hidden. It would have meant money for treatment or something else necessary. Either way, you were glad to have stopped Arthur from further antagonizing them. Even if he himself wasn’t happy about it.

Arthur had wandered off to speak with Strauss, leaving you alone around the campfire. After a helping of stew and having quick chats with the others, you headed back into the tent. Fatigue had struck you earlier than usual, and you were quick to undress and lay on the cot.

Arthur joined you not too long after, taking his spot next to you and wrapping his arms around you for a warm embrace. You snuggled into his chest, relieved that he wasn’t angry with you. You tilted your head up to place a kiss on his jaw. He rumbled slightly in response, ducking down to meet your lips.

You kissed tenderly, his hand reaching up to knot into your hair. He only pulled back after a long moment to catch his breath. Even in the dim light, his blue eyes were bright.

“I missed runnin’ missions with you,” he sighed. “I’m glad you came with me today.”

Your eyebrows raised in surprise. “Really? Even if we didn’t get the money?”

He nodded. “Didn’t have to get my hands dirty for once.”

You hummed in response, kissing him again. “Though Strauss is out one debt.”

Arthur chuckled. “He’ll get over it, maybe it’ll get him to stop lendin’ to folks who can’t repay him.”

“If only,” you huffed. “Though seeing you getting all dominant like that? That was something else.”

“You liked that?” his voice heavy with confusion.

“Reminds me how lucky I am to have such a strong man like you.” You placed a hand on his chest, his union suit partially unbuttoned to expose his skin. Your fingers traced patterns on him, slowly unbuttoning more, exposing his torso, trailing feather light along his skin.

He grunted in response, shuddering from your touch. It didn’t take long to arouse him, as he moved on top of you, planting his lips firmly to yours. His hands roamed your body, exploring your curves, your bare skin tingling where he touched.

The world around you was muted, as everything else happened in a blur.

---

You blinked awake, the morning sun shining brought through your blinds. You gazed around your room, no longer in the tent from before. The clock on your nightstand read 8 am.

Arthur lie next to you, for once still asleep. Artemis was curled in his lap, sleeping as soundly as he was.

What a vivid dream that was, almost as if you yourself had been transported into Arthur’s world. You could smell the smoke from the campfire, the earthy scent that clung to the horses. Arthur’s own aroma that was locked into the fabrics of his outfit. Your body tingled still from the way he touched you.

It only had to have been a dream, right?

[lumbaghini]

RDR2 Headcanon - Abigail confronts Arthur

I had a headcanon idea pop into my head as I was playing last night; Abigail finding out about Eliza and Isaac. This would be in the first half of the party for Sean, in Chapter 2 - specifically, before Abigail rounds on a drunk John Marston, calling him despicable.

This turned out to be a long one, so I’m adding a read-more. Spoilers for Arthur’s past, but otherwise there’s nothing past chapter 2 revealed.

It had been just another peaceful evening at Horseshoe Overlook, with the sun lazily easing down toward the horizon, with nothing to announce its descent but the night insects. That is, until Sean returned with a show of triumph and boister. 

Even though he’s the one had to be rescued, Abigail Roberts thought to herself. For her, the ensuing and, she knew, inevitable night of drinking and debauchery was as irritating as it was amusing. And, when she thought about it, vexing. She didn’t think most of them were so much happy to see Sean as they were just ready to pounce on any excuse to drink. Buncha grown-ass men...must be nice to not have a damn thing to worry about. 

An hour or so after Sean started the party off, she found herself sitting near Arthur, Charles, and Bill, with Arthur and Bill bickering over something while Charles just watched on.

“I’m tellin’ ya Morgan, I’d’a been fine even if you n’ Javier didn’t come get me. I was just tryin’ ta time my escape right.”

Not this again...

“Yer fulla shit, Bill. They had you trussed up good. Y’ain’t lucky like Little John.”

Abigail stiffened up.

“See, that’s another thing! Why is it, Marston gets bit by a wolf and is laid up for weeks, and he’s some kinda hero, but I get captured by bounty hunters for a coupla hours, and I’m the one can’t do anythin’ right? I’m the idiot?”

“That’s ‘cause you ARE an idiot, Bill! But, ya got a point. That boy can’t do nothin’ wrong, seems like. Disappears for a year, runs out on his boy and woman, just comes back ‘n everyone acts like nothin’ happened.” Abigail stood up as he went on. “Then he gets hisself lost in the mountains, n’ me n’ Javier gotta-” Arthur stopped in surprise when Abigail put herself in front of him, hands on her hips, hurt and anger plain in her eyes.

“Can I talk to you, Arthur?”

“Ah, I... yes, Abigail.”

Abigail walked briskly off toward the guards’ fire with a cowed Arthur in tow, pretending not to hear the hoots from Bill.

“Look, Abigail, I’m sorry I brought all that up again, but you know I-”

“What is it with you, Arthur Morgan?” Se could no more keep from cutting him off than she could keep the hurt out of her voice.

“I..w-... what are ya...” His stammering didn’t come off charming at all.

“He’s back. He’s changin’, little by little; I believe that. But why can’t you just let it be? Why are you the one keeps bringin’ that back up, openin’ that wound again? You just like twistin’ the knife in my belly?”

“No, Abigail... look, I’m sorry, it’s just somethin’ that’s hard for me to let go of, since, well...”

“Since what, Arthur? And don’t you dare try tellin’ me it’s ‘cause of me, cause this ain’t helpin’ me. Y’ain’t never been a parent before, Arthur, so you can’t know what it’s like to try raisin’ a boy on your own with his father doin God knows what, and now he’s back, so why can’t you just let me have this for now? I mean-” 

Abigail stopped when she saw Arthur’s face. Even in the warm, dancing light of the fire, she could see it had lost all its color, and that his mouth was hanging open in disbelief. She wondered what it was that she said, thinking, was it when I said it wasn’t for me? Or... wait... no... oh, no...

“... Arthur... there somethin’ you ain’t told me?”

Watching his face, it was like time started moving again. He must’ve realized what he’d given away, since his eyes started darting around, looking for an escape route.

“Ah, no, I just... nah, you’re right, Abigail. What could I know? I’m just a dumb cowboy. Excuse me. Have a good night.”

He made to move past her, and something in her got angry again. Oh no, you stupid man. You’re not shuttin’ down on me now. She caught his arm as he moved past her, and when he wheeled around to look at her, she saw in his turquoise eyes a mix of irritation, and.... fear.

“Arthur. What’s goin’ on with you?”

“Look, I... it’s just, John don’t know how good he’s got it. He’s got a good woman who loved ‘im and waited for ‘im, ‘n I got Mary Gillis.” He was getting angry, and the drink was pushing him further. “No, sorry, Linton. Who wouldn’t wait for me cause I weren’t good enough, and John? He ran out on his boy and his woman when he had a chance to have a family, when I don’t even have that chance since my boy died."

Arthur looked like he'd accidentally shot himself as that horrible word hung in the silence between them. Died. Disbelief and dismay were plain on his face, and his eyes were glimmering with more pain than Abigail thought she'd ever seen in a man before.

What's more, Abigail could feel her own heart ripping in half as Arthur turned around, obviously not wanting his face to be seen.

"Oh, Arthur, I... I didn't know. I'm so... I'm so sorry."

She knew the words were tumbling out and falling flat, but she still needed to say them. Oh, Arthur... Arthur, Arthur....

She could see his shoulders starting to shake lightly, but he wasn't making any sounds. She didn't know what to say, so she did the only thing she could think of: she put a hand and her forehead on his broad, dependable back, which tonight seemed all the stronger for the burden it's been carrying, to let him know she's there.

Finally, she heard a queer, low rumbling sound, which she eventually realized was Arthur's voice.

"... just a boy... she was just a kid herself, n' I wasn't there when... when they came and..."

She was starting to get it now. They hadn't gone nice. And he felt guilty.

"Arthur, it weren't your fault... I'm sure you did the best you could." The way his voice was shaking was making tears well up in her eyes.

"It weren't for me, Eliza wouldn'na been made a single mama in the first place, and I couldn't make her and the boy live this life, neither... it was all my fault. I should’ve... well, I should’a never got her pregnant, but I also shouldn’a left them alone so much.”

His voice was going back to normal, and he seemed to be coming back from the depths of his grief. She just wanted him to let go of this burden a little, but the next thing he said caught her off guard.

“And John knows.”

That felt like a punch to the gut, and when Arthur finally turned around to look at her, cheeks vaguely wet and eyes red, she saw anger coming through the grief.

“He... what?”

“I said, he knows about Eliza. And Isaac. We were as brothers, for years. He knows I wanted to be a daddy to that boy,” his voice cracked a bit there, “and here he is, runnin’ away from his own. I’m sorry, Abigail, it’s just too much for me sometimes. And it’s hard for me to forgive.”

This was starting to be too much for her, too. 

“I’m... sorry, Arthur. I didn’t know. I thought you might’a had some grudge over somethin’ stupid, like... well, I dunno what like, I just... I’m sorry, Arthur.”

“Yeah, well... now you know. Just... don’t go tellin’ others in the camp about this, okay? Please.”

“Of course, Arthur... look, I know you’re not the type for this, but...”

And she hugged him, wrapping her arms around his waist, putting her head on his chest. Partly as an apology, partly to comfort him. After a brief moment of surprise, he hugged her back, and gave her body a squeeze with his arms as an understood “thank you.” She felt hot tears roll down her face finally, staining his shirt.

And with a sniffle and an awkward smile, she left Arthur to be alone. In the distance, she saw John drinking with a couple of the others at the table in front of Pearson’s wagon. That idiot. That fool. Before she even realized it, she was storming over toward them.

She wasn’t quite sure what she was going to say, though, so she hung back near Pearson’s cutting table.

“Hello, Abigail.” John’s voice held some thinly-veiled anticipation, his words dripping with booze.

When she didn’t respond, he seemed confused, but a certain anxiety started dawning on him.

“What?” This time more flippantly.

“John Marston, you are a despicable man.”

[bubblegumxveil]

maiden of the mist;;

Betty had heard the stories, the legend of the creation believed by the native people for what had become known as the Horseshoe Falls but she’d only ever seen it in poorly likened photographs in old reference books at the school library or through films her professor showed in her folklore and mythology class on a projector screen. The subject itself held little interest for her fellow classmates, most of whom were only taking the course as an easily passed elective to pad their transcript and up their grade point average. Betty Cooper however, found herself enthralled in the mystical element of it all, the way stories of gods were passed on through generations only to be watered down into the bland black and white of her required reading textbooks. Her professor had taken note of her curiosity, particularly her interest in Niagara Falls and had supplied her with extracurricular reading on the histories and lore. It was a specific story that stuck out to her, the tale of the sacrificial maiden willing to give her life for the honor of appeasing a mighty spirit the lived in the waters below. She found the entire concept of willingly wanting to die for something so wholeheartedly believed in as equally foolish as she did fascinating, but it became the prime motivator in deciding on the destination for the all girl’s trip planned over summer vacation. Her best friend Veronica didn’t understand what particularly was so interesting about some waterfalls, her vote having been the beaches of Southern Florida but she gave in reluctantly claiming this was Betty’s trip after all before the commencement of their junior year of college. Classes were sure to be more rigorous and leaving them all with much less time for socializing and so this was their last chance for the summer to have a little fun and blow off steam before the term began. They’d packed the station wagon full to the brim, suitcases, snacks and necessities with all four girls before making a road trip of it the several hours north and west to where Veronica’s father had secured them a stay in a rather lavish luxury hotel suite. The bellhop had barely unloaded the cart of their bags before Betty had armed herself with her brand new Canon camera gifted by her parents on her last birthday around her neck and begging to go on one of the many tours offered around the area. Donning their matching cat eye sunglasses, Betty snapped a few pictures of the girls along the observation deck overlooking the falls, few as enthused to be there as she was simply taking a moment to lean over the railing and really take in the splendor of it all. The sheer scope and size of it, the mist she could feel against her face even from where she stood and the sound of the water crashing down below. Mistakenly, she could’ve sworn it sometimes resembled a voice, like the waters could really be calling to her. Veronica and the girls had lost their attention long ago, telling Betty they were heading back along the main drag of tourists where they’d seen a vendor cart selling ice cream and offering to bring her one back to stave off the sweltering late summer heat. She waved them on, taking advantage of her chance alone and severe lack of security to venture past the warning signs warding off visitors past a point of danger and climbing her way down the craggy rocks to get closer to the water’s edge. She watched the rolling current as she carefully stepped over slippery moss covered rocks, unpredictable and wild as it churned but the color of the water magnetic and drawing her closer. She hadn’t the appropriate footwear for climbing rocks, dark brown closed-toed Huarache sandals her feet could’ve easily slipped out of but she was mindful more of the camera she carted, not wanting to accidentally fall and break the lens or ruin and expose the film to the beating sun overhead. Once she made it to the edge however, it still seemed as if the water itself was speaking to her somehow, which of course she knew to be impossible. Betty looked over her shoulder, scanning the vacant outcropping half expecting to find Veronica or one of the girls whispering to tease her but it was as if the entire world from above her had completely disappeared. Betty found a sturdy higher perched rock, unlooping the camera from around her neck and setting it down for safekeeping as she returned to the waters, dipping her hand in out of uncontrollable curiosity. It was much colder than she’d expected given the season but the jolt of surprise and mixed sensations brought a knowing smirk to her lips as she turned toward the falls, recalling the story in particular about the sacrificial maidens in their white canoes. “A beauty worth dying for I suppose…” Betty echoed to no one but herself, crossing her arms against a sudden chill on her bare arms that had nothing to do with the weather. Heaving a sigh, she knew she’d already been gone longer than anticipated and that the other girls would be worried and looking for her. She turned to collect her camera, but not before her foot slipped on one of the rocks and caused her to lose her balance. Instead of falling forward onto the jagged bed of rocks, her body instinctually tried to counteract the fall and instead she fell backwards and directly into the water. She hadn’t had the chance to gasp for much air before she was pulled under by the current, the cold sending a shock through her body as she was pulled down and deeper into the water with inexplicable force. It felt almost as if the water itself had wrapped around her ankles in a death grip, dragging her under. She fought to swim, the summers of swimming lessons put to use as she tried to get her bearings, kicking as hard as she could against the pull in search of the surface of the water. Somehow, she’d been thrashed and tossed around and the more she kept swimming it seemed the further into water she went and she no longer knew which direction was up or down. Panic began setting in, the lack of oxygen to her muscles slowing her movements and the pain radiating from her lungs in her chest desperate for air. Betty knew she only had less than minutes to find her way above water or else she’d lose consciousness and drown. Through the pain she kicked harder, instead of arms flailing, out in front of her to maneuver through the water as she tried to keep her wits about her and turn in different directions until finally she broke through the surface. Gasping for air, the sudden burst of breath as painful as the depletion of air but she made her way for the edge of the shoreline coughing and sputtering not knowing how far the currents had carried her. She was exhausted as she hauled herself onto the rocks, hair and clothes soaked through as she leaned against a tall rock for support still heaving for breath. Betty looked behind her, expecting her camera to be where she’d left it but finding the top of the rock empty. So her luck seemed to be getting worse, assuming somehow in the force of her fall the camera too had been knocked from its’ ledge and now lie somewhere deep below in the depths of the water. “My mom and dad are going to kill me…” She groaned, feeling her throat burning from the effort of being underwater. Once she was sure she could stand, Betty carried herself and her wounded pride back up the way she’d climbed in search of her friends and a dry towel they’d all kept in the back of the car for their trip. Once to the top of the rocks however, Betty found no thoroughfare of tourists or the nearby parking lot full of station wagons and Buicks. In fact, Betty found nothing at all but more rocks and trees for as far as she could see. She was half convinced she was losing her mind, turning around in a circle to scan her surroundings in search of anything familiar but finding no observation deck, no ice cream vendors and no one else around.  “No wonder my camera was gone. I must be in a totally different part from where I fell in…” Betty was beginning to feel on edge, but resolved there must be some sort of park ranger’s office or something nearby. She’d only been underwater for so long and despite how strong the current had been, she couldn’t have been more than a mile from the tourist center where her friends surely were reporting her missing.     Squashing the last bit of water from her sandals, Betty trekked onward and forward into the foliage knowing it would be nightfall soon and wearing only capris and sleeveless blouse she was bound to get cold soaked through to the bone the way she was. It was slow and arduous going, climbing over more rocks and roots of trees and it was clear it wasn’t well traveled terrain. She wondered if she should double back to the water and start over in a different direction until she heard a rustling in the leaves that froze her in her tracks. Betty knew little of the area, unsure of what wild animals lived in these particular parts but wanted no more quarrel with Mother Nature than she’d already had today. It was no mountain lion or bear that appeared however, but a scantily clad little boy. His hair was coal black and his complexion darker than hers though not quite black like the friends she’d met in the rallies at Washington D.C. He wore no shirt and as she looked him over, nothing below his waist save for the shoes on his feet. She made a squeak of embarrassment instantly apologizing to the boy and politely averting her eyes but wondered what sort of parents let their child parade around naked even to play in the waters of the falls which seemed incredibly dangerous to her. “Can I help you? Have you lost your parents too? I can’t seem to find my way back to the visitor’s center.” Betty smiled to the boy, hoping to frighten them both a little less but the boy looked her up and down, brows knitting together in confusion when she spoke and when he tried to speak to her it was in a completely foreign language Betty didn’t recognize. Her heart sank a bit more as she shook her head, feeling a slight shiver set in from the damp. “I’m sorry… I don’t know what you’re saying…” The boy took a step toward her, grabbing for her wrist and pulling her along forward but she instantly fought against him and jerked her hand back away from him. “No! You’re going the wrong way!” The boy looked back at her as if she’d physically struck him, and before she could apologize or show she meant no harm he immediately began raising his voice, running off in the direction which he’d come and gaining volume in that same language she didn’t understand. “No! Wait! Come back, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to upset you!” Betty pushed through the leaves he’d disappeared through but finding no sign of the boy except the far off sound of his voice already impossibly far ahead of her.

[lavendersam]

The Longest Night of the Year

introduction

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10

previous

Rook awoke next to warm ashes in the fireplace, to the sounds of a new day’s work beginning on Redwheel farm.  As she blinked awake, she caught the scent of breakfast wafting from the farmhouse’s kitchen and she remembered that she had skipped dinner to go running off into the woods last night.  Her clothes were dry on the hearth next to her, and she looked furtively around before shedding the large blanket and quickly slipping into them.

She had just finished tying off her breast band when Teron walked into the room.  He gave a started “Augh!” and recoiled away from her, putting his hands up to block the sight.  “What the shit, Bridget?”

Rook sighed in exasperation.  “Oh grow up, Teron. My clothes got soaked last night.”  She pulled her shirt over her head and started doing up the laces.  “You’re welcome, by the way,” she added.

Teron looked her up and down with a horrified expression.  He let out a disgusted and disbelieving “Ugh!” before turning and stomping away.

“Wha- I meant for saving your sister, not - argh!”  Rook snorted in frustration.  Finishing up getting dressed, Rook went into the kitchen and got breakfast.  Orna served her porridge with honeycomb and toasted acorns, and let her know that Kaeli was doing fine.  Every other member of Redwheel stopped by to thank Rook or clap her on the shoulder, and it was solidly mid-morning by the time she got bundled up and walking down the road towards town.

The day was bright beneath a light grey ceiling of snowclouds across the sky.  Rook got back to the inn, and was immediately swamped by all three innkeepers, demanding to know if she was okay, what had happened last night.

“I’m alright, I’m alright,” she said.  “I fell into a snowbank, but...but I found Kaeli. Orna made me sleep at Redwheel last night.”

“Yes, Jaan told us, but -” Elias shook his head.  “Sit down, we’ll get you some food.  I think you should take the day off today.”

“But the festival -” Rook protested.

“We’ll put you to work plenty hard tomorrow, but we’ll get by without you today,” Elias said.  “And you should go home and check in with your family, I’m sure the story has reached your parents by now.”

Rook sighed and nodded.  Elias smiled, and he and Galen went back to the kitchen while Medran sat Rook down by the fire.

“So what happened?” the thin man asked, cleaning his spectacles and tilting his head at her.

Rook hesitated.  She hadn’t told Medran about what had happened on Midsummer’s Eve - hadn’t told anyone except Alyona, and even with her it took a month or two to work up the courage.  Alyona only vaguely remembered the wild story of faeries and a missing heart that Rook had told her while she was shaking off the remnants of the Rusalka’s spell.  To Rook’s surpise and relief, however, Alyona believed her.

”You said your name was Rook?” Alyona had said.  She pondered the name for a moment. “Hmm...It suits you.  I’m not sure why, but it suits you.”  She shook her head, smiling.  “Gods.  I can’t believe you made a faerie deal like that.”

“What else was I supposed to do?” Rook protested.

“Run back to the village to get help!” Alyona laughed.

Rook’s eyes widened and the words she was about to say died on her lips.  She blinked a few times.  “...Oh,” was all she said.

Alyona put a hand over her mouth, her shoulders shaking with laughter.  She wiped a tear from her eye and patted Rook’s cheek.  “Aw, Bridget.”  She looked up into Rook’s eyes, a bright smile across her face.  “Well, thank you.  For doing the brave and foolish thing.  I suppose it saved my life.”

Rook felt her face growing warm, and couldn’t help but smile back.  “Of course,” she said.

Alyona’s lips pursed in thought, then she smiled and said, “Close your eyes.”

Rook raised an eyebrow, but did as she was told.  She tried not to laugh when she felt the air from Alyona waving a hand in front of her face.

“You’re not peeking?”

“I’m not peeking.”

“Good.”  There was the sound of movement, and then Rook felt the lightest pressure of soft, warm lips upon hers.  It was gone in an instant, and Rook’s eyes snapped open in time to see Alyona stepping back from her, her cheeks bright pink and eyes cast shyly downwards.  She hooked some of her long hair behind an ear and glanced up at Rook.  “Well...there’s your reward for saving a fair maiden,” she said with mock seriousness.

Rook grinned like a fool, and made a showy bow.  The conversation moved on, but Rook had felt a small warmth on her lips for the rest of the day.

Despite Alyona believing her story, Rook didn’t have much hope that many others in the village would take her word for it.  But like her, Medran had a true name, and although he always seemed to have his head in a book or in the clouds, Rook knew he was a deeply insightful person.  Maybe he would know something useful?  She took a breath, and then quickly and quietly told him what had happened last night, only leaving out the fact that she had met the Nøkken before...and her encounter with woman in the red cloak.

Medran listened intently, without interrupting, and thought for a while before speaking.  “Well, that does sound serious.  Have you spoken with Tala or Taisin about this?”

“I...” Rook had approached the priestess once since Midsummer, to ask if there were any old ruins in the woods north of the village.  The older woman had immediately asked why Rook wanted to know, with a shrewd suspicion that startled Rook.  She quickly made up a not entirely untrue story of Teron leading her and Alyona into the woods to look for them, but that they didn’t find any.  This seemed to satisfy Tala, who admitted to hearing rumors of an old church from a forgotten age lost somewhere in the mountains nearby - one dedicated to the worship of something other than the gods.  She then made Rook promise never to go looking for them, and that was the end of any conversation with the priestess.  As for Taisin...the greenwitch was rarely seen in the village, even for festivals.  She lived far from everyone else, on the edge of the woods with the village huntress.  Rook preferred not to bother her.

Medran smiled.  “Dangerous faeries might their area of expertise.  You might want to tell one of them what happened.”  Just then, Galen and Elias returned with food, and Rook was left to her thoughts.

She had just finished eating when the door to the inn opened and Alyona stepped inside, her cheeks pink from the cold.  She smiled when she saw Rook and bounded over to her.

“What did you do?” she asked, grinning as she sat down beside Rook.  “The story’s all over town.  What happened?”

“I...” Rook glanced across the bar at Medran, who winked.  “...I’ll tell you the whole story, but I need to back home and check in there.  What are you up to today?”

Alyona smiled.  “Nothing I can’t put off.  I’ll walk with you.”  The two put on their coats, waved goodbye to the innkeepers, and stepped out together.  In the inn-yard outside, Crane had opened up his cart and several people were coming by to look through the odd assortment of items and trinkets he was selling.  Alyona slipped her hands around Rook’s arm as they passed by, and Rook couldn’t help blushing as they walked past what felt like half the village arm in arm.  Together, they walked up the snow-packed road out of the village and out towards Rook’s family farm.

“Have you looked at Crane’s cart yet?” Rook asked.

Alyona sniffed.  “Yes, but I didn’t find what I was looking for.”

“Oh?” Rook turned to look at her.  “What was that?”

Alyona looked up at Rook with a curious expression.  “A hairbrush.  Why?”

Rook shrugged and tried not to smile.  “Just curious,” she said.

Once they were out of the village and skirting Della’s orchards, Rook told Alyona about everything that had happened last night...everything except the woman with the burning eyes, which still baffled Rook.  She didn’t seem like one of the Fair Folk - for one, she was helpful, offering assistance freely and without price.  A mystery for another time, however, because right now Alyona was talking to her about the Nøkken. 

“What are you going to do?” she asked.  “Sleep with a horseshoe under your pillow from now on?”

“I’m not sure,” Rook said.  “I think I might talk to the priestess about it?  She might know what to do, if anything.”

“Hmm...well, even if she knows how to defend against the fae, I don’t think she can save you from snowball attacks!” 

“What?”

Alyona didn’t even bother making a snowball.  She just dipped her mittens into the snow and sent a spray of powder up into Rook’s face.

“Ack!”  Rook laughed, and tossed some snow her way as well.  Alyona hit Rook squarely with a snowball, then Rook tackled Alyona into the snow.  The two of them went down laughing.

They arrived at Splitbrook farm in the early afternoon, just in time to catch Rook’s aunt Muriel making lunch.  Alyona and Rook hung their coats up to dry, and spent a loud, bustling hour eating in the kitchen while Rook’s many brothers and cousins came through to grab a bite, say hello, and press Rook for the story of last night.  Rook didn’t say much, and wasn’t able to get many words in anyway as family members hugged her and mussed her hair and told her how much they missed her since she’s been spending so much time working at the inn.  Rook’s father made sure to tell her, “Go talk to your mother before you go again.  She’s out in the pasture, and would hate to have missed you.”  Rook promised that she would.

After lunch, Rook and Alyona went out to the barn to see their old horse Clover.  She was happy to see them, and happier to see the apple piece Rook brought out.  While she was there, Rook found a spare horseshoe and slipped it into her coat pocket.  They stopped by the edge of the pasture where Rook’s mother was cutting branches off spruce trees and visited with her a bit.

“Are ya sleeping here tonight, or are you heading back to town?” she asked, looking between Rook and Alyona.

“I should sleep at the inn tonight,” Rook said.  “They’ll need all the help they can get preparing for the festival, and I promised Galen I’d go gather chestnuts tomorrow.”

Disappointment touched her mother’s face, but she nodded.  “I understand.  I miss you though.  Farm’s not the same without you, you know?”  She gave Rook a hug.  “Take care, bug.”  She let Rook go and smiled at Alyona.  “Come back soon, though?  And feel free to bring your...friend with you.”

Alyona blushed a bit, but thanked Rook’s mother for the invitation.

By the time Rook and Alyona got back to the village, it was almost dark.  “I should get back home,” Alyona said.  “I’ll have chores to catch up on.  But...” She gave Rook a wide smile.  “I’m glad we took the day off.”

Rook smiled back.  “Here,” she said, and handed Alyona the horseshoe.  “For you to put under your pillow.”

Alyona took it, but looked up, worried.  “Are you sure you don’t need it more?”

Rook shook her head.  “I’ll go talk to Tala now.  Promise,” she said, when Alyona raised an eyebrow.  “Besides, I’d feel better knowing you had it.”

“Well, alright then.” Alyona smiled.  “Thank you.”

“Of course,” Rook said, grinning.  

The two said goodnight, and Alyona took the path up to the mill.  Rook watched her go, then turned back towards the village.  It was almost completely dark, and all of a sudden she realized that she was very hungry and very cold.  She looked longingly at the warm, bright light in the inn’s windows on the far end of the village, where Crane had already shut up his cart and smoke was rising from the chimney.  Rook sighed, and reluctantly started walking the other direction towards the village shrine.

next

[omgnsfwisnsfw-blog]

NSFW #07: Second Chance

One last check. John Bishop Church and Mike McGuire stood before the vanity mirror of a makeup table. John winced slightly as he adjusted the knot of his tie so it laid flush against the collar of his dress shirt. In the silence of this prelude, John’s soft breathing was ragged. His cheeks were pale and cool to the touch despite a layer of perspiration already accumulating on his forehead. He retrieved a handkerchief from the inside of his suit jacket and dabbed away the sweat before returning it back to its pocket. He averted his gaze from Mike even through the reflection. “Okay. Let’s do this.” “Hold up. One sec.” Mike looked to their partner with furrowed brows, an expression of genuine, heartfelt concern on their face. Reaching out, they place one hand on his arm. “It’s not too late to not do this. I mean if you want to hold off for this week I totally understand, and I bet Ashley and Iggy would too. I mean, no offense, you know that… but you look kinda awful.” “They don’t make that decision.” John looked down at her hand and smirked. The expression, imagined possibly, brought a little color back into his face. “I’ll be okay. I’ll have to be.” “If you say so, then I believe you. I mean, shit. I know how bad we both want this. Like, real fucking bad, more than anybody.” “Then, let’s show them.” The camera moved through a pair of doors into a magnificent reception hall, all vibrant, lush red and gold-veined white marble. Gilded alabaster pillars line the balcony, bordered by elegant black wrought railings. It took the viewer up the claret carpeted stairway, beneath the grand crystal chandelier, through another pair of doors into a gorgeous theater in the same color scheme, the high ceiling decorated with gilded scrolling and the seats upholstered in ruby. Finally, the camera stopped, its wielder taking a seat in the front row. The stage’s ceiling was blocked in burgundy and slopes back, the backdrop also deep red and white, the wooden planks of the stage floor slightly scuffed from years of use. The house lights dimmed, and at the center of all this majesty two spotlights hit the stage, one at each side. Into these, Bishop Church stepped into the left one, Mike McGuire the right, and the lights trailed them until they met in the center. Mike slowly, deliberately slipped her aviators off, grinning a bit. “Evening, EWC faithful. Look at where ya boys are at tonight! Check these digs out. Fancy, huh? Just perfect for a big occasion, and trust me on this- this is a big fucking occasion. And we were gonna pull out all the stops for it too. You wouldn’t believe the sheer level of ridiculous hijinx we had planned for this. But…” She gave a glance over to her partner. He, however, did not remove his shades. “Better reserved for our opponents. That is, after all, their modus operandi.For fun. Remember that? Mr. Lutter assembled a group of super friends that failed to live up to that ideal. And after a purge, he seems to have it just right.” John shrugged. “Swango. Brizzie. Don’t take that as a dismissal of your talents. Your detractors will label you inexperienced, ineffectual, and irreverent. However, at Night of Champions, they could only call you winners.” The lights rose just slightly, the ambience brightened a bit. From somewhere unseen, a soft, uplifting tune began to play. Not loud enough to be obstructive or drown out the words the pair were saying, though- just audible enough to be heard clearly. “You two got magic. The same kinda magic we had when we first started out. You literally just got your kite off the ground and you’re flying like a couple’a fuckin’ pros, and that’s badass. It’s not easy to do that, y’know. Tag teaming ain’t easy. Contrary to popular belief you can’t just throw two people together, no matter how capable, and expect them to win goddamn matches if they ain’t got a drop of chemistry. Heh, ask Merc and Jerk about that.” “You won’t get a real answer out of either of them.” And then John removed his shades as well. Normally his gaze was passive and distant but at this time, blue eyes stared at the viewing audience. Perhaps at NSFW’s opponents. “But that night. The very night that we broke The Limit, the landscape of the tag team division started to change for the better. Many will attribute it to our new Tag Team champions. Some even to Mike and myself. I would say that a bit of the credit belongs to the efforts made in the face of seemingly insurmountable adversity. So it is no surprise to me that you stand opposite of us. With the opportunity that we have been fighting every inch of the way for.” The lights brightened a little further. “You’re the challenge we’ve been waiting for. This division as it stands right now? It’s the division we’ve been wanting to fight in. And right past you? The chance we’ve been working so fuckin’ hard for, since day one. I’m pumped for it. Church is. We got electric in our veins, but… do you?” Mike’s brows furrowed, the lights dimming back down almost somberly, with a slight blue tinge. “Brizzie. You don’t have that For Fun mojo going on much right now. And I get it. I got nothin’ but respect for Nos, and I don’t blame you if your head ain’t in the game. But you gotta understand… you ain’t gonna beat us like that. Not by a long shot.” “As your fellow employers. Perhaps even your friends, we are deeply concerned with what has happened. But understand something.” He stepped forward. The lights began to brighten, the blue beginning to fade away. “Monday Night. Houston. The main event. Our very first main event. With the chance we’ve been asking for on the line. If your music plays. If you two walk out. If you get into the ring with Mike McGuire and Bishop Church, you are telling us one thing. That you are ready. The bell rings. Our concern takes a backseat. Losing this match means that we are deprived another chance to represent this division. This business means everything to me. It is the most important-” Mike reached out. Her hand rested comfortably on his jacket-sheathed bicep. “It is one of the most important parts of my life. I think I understand my partner enough by now to know that she agrees. I am not content to be on the sidelines however. That’s what losing that match will do to us. Losing means we sit back another night and watch other people take what we have earned with our blood. It would be foolish to make ultimatums. The world doesn’t end with one shortfall. But after all this time, it doesn’t feel right. So ask yourselves? With circumstances as they stand, what would a defeat mean to you? Chalk it up to inexperience. Momentum not being on your side maybe.” “Yeah. You guys are brand new, right out of the box. We ain't exactly old news ourselves, but we kinda got the ‘new car smell’ knocked off us by now. We got, in a way, more to gain from this than you two, and a hell of a lot more to lose. I don’t know how much you guys want the tag titles, but I can fuckin’ promise one thing. It ain’t near as much as we do.” The intensity of the lighting was almost at full house strength now, the coloring shed of its melancholy blue and, instead, tinged with gold. “We came here with two goals. Revive the tag team division, and be its fucking champions. I think we can consider Goal One met. Two? Like I mentioned. Runs right through the Rockin’ Dreamland you got going on. But we can’t stop. We WON’T stop. No Sympathy For Wifey- at least, not in between those bells. And I’m sorry if that seems mean. Trust me, I wish to fuck this thing with Nos wasn’t happening at all, much less now, but gold waits for nobody.” “So that is what I meant. You two come down and you forsake all of that strife for that moment in time. Iggy, Ashley, you took everything from two teams that didn’t give you a chance. We consider you two our greatest challenge.” He turned his head and addressed his partner eye to eye. “Mike, remember the last time we had a chance like this? We thought of ourselves to be the heirs apparent.” “And we came up fuckin’ short. Just by a hair, but you know what they say about horseshoes and hand grenades. We played it cool, y’know, ‘tomorrow is another day’ and all that positive happy crappy B.S. but you know what? It fuckin’ stung. And it’s a feeling I never… and I think I can safely say, WE never… want to deal with again. The fuckin’ feeling of seeing a golden opportunity slip through your fingers. We ain’t gonna let it happen again, no matter what we gotta do.” The soft gold illumination intensified, became sharper. “So come out. For Fun. And we’ll take everything you have and throw it back at you. No jokes. No time machines. No more silly names. No song and dance. No more platitudes about respect.” “This is our second shot for a shot. And it’ll be our last one, because after this one, we won’t fuckin’ well need another one. We’ve been put through a fucking meat grinder this summer. We’ve been table’d, chair’d, thrown off shit, beat to a fucking pulp, my partner damn near got disemboweled, and in the middle of all that, we’ve gone through damn near the entire division that WE rebuilt. Our literal blood, sweat, and tears are all over the fucking place.” More intense now. The entire stage was bathed in vivid golden light. “You guys got the magic, but you haven’t paid your dues. You haven’t earned it. You don’t have the rights to it, not yet.” “So we offer the same courtesy that we did to the Unholy Two. Sure, we’ve met. But we haven’t been formally introduced. Where it matters. Iggy Swango. Ashley Brizzie.” John put the aviators back on. “I’m Bishop Church.” Mike followed suit. “And I’m Mike McGuire.” “We are NSFW.” “And we’re the next EWC Tag Team Champions.” The golden light intensified so brightly that a bright, gilded flash was all that the camera could pick up. When it faded away, NSFW were gone. What does a team do after they rent out Heinz Hall for their own personal statement on their most important match to date? Go grocery shopping. John’s hands were ringed with the loops of plastic grocery bags. He let them slip from his fingers gently on the kitchen table. He also had a week’s worth of mail tucked under the opposite side of his wound. They fell out onto the table and unfolded like an accordion. Mike closed the front door behind them. They had all of the bags full of things that needed to be in the refrigerator so they made a beeline to it. He looked suspiciously at a party sized bag of peanut butter M&Ms that had managed to make it into their cart. But then something else caught his eye. One of the envelopes. “Hey. You got a letter.” She was a phone call or text away. Not too many miles between them. His eyebrows raised quizzically. But it was addressed to just Mike. So not really his business. “From Natalie.”