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#if you wanted Arthur to pay for his sins
ksuhi13 · 9 months
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Me run with letter: Dear Santa, please forgive me for the confusion, I know you are very busy, but I ask you to listen to me about the gift. I know it’s quite late but listen, 11 years ago on this very day...
Santa instantly climbs out of the pipe: I don’t know how to resurrect the dead understand already a stupid creature, dear deer save me
Me: Oh no, I already understood that I just need a little apocalypse so that Arthur can come back we people haven't ruined everything enough
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sinofwriting · 5 months
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Kiss - Arthur Leclerc
Words: 312 Prompt: "You're making it so hard to concentrate right now." "Good, pay attention to me."
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Masterlist | Support Me! | Part of Sin's 5k & B-Day Celebration
Arthur can feel her looking at him. Her eyes seemed to bore into him. It makes him want to stop watching this onboard, to laugh, to get up from the kitchen table and to join her. But he doesn’t. He keeps watching and tries his best to ignore his girlfriend who is silently begging for his attention.
She gives a quiet huff and his lips twitch up into a smile.
The apartment is filled with quietness, only the sound of their breathing, the quiet hum of the refrigerator, and the even quieter sounds of the car onboard in his ears. It’s peaceful in an odd way.
He watches intently as the car goes into turn seven, nearly losing the racing line. As it regains he hears the couch creek and another quiet huff before the sound of socked feet padding across the hardwood fills his ears.
“Amour,” he warns when he feels her hovering behind him. She isn’t even touching him, not even making any noise but already his concentration is broken. “You’re making it so hard to concentrate right now.” “Good, pay attention to me.” He lets out a laugh as she speaks, her arms wrapping around him as she bends to rest her chin on his shoulder. “Have I been ignoring you?” She nods and he ignores the slight dig of her chin in his shoulder at the movement. “You have. It’s been hours since you even looked at me.” He lets out a little laugh, that was more than false, but he still closes his laptop and relaxes back into the chair, into her.
“Hello, amour.” He murmurs, tipping his head back when she stands straight to see her face. She smiles at him. “Hello, Thur.” He grins at her before puckering his lips. “Kiss?” She giggles but bends again, pressing a sweet gentle kiss to his lips. “Kiss.”
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@ironspdy @crashingwavesofeuphoria @poppyflower-22 @racingheartsposts @namgification @alessioayla @gemofthenight @peachiicherries @lpab @hiireadstuff @iloveyou3000morgan @boiohboii @bibliosaurous @skepvids @elliegrey2803 @tallrock35 @casperlikej @clowngirlsstuff
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lottiies · 3 months
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one of his many journal entries about you
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arthur morgan x fem!reader and male!reader <33
i won’t lie…i have 45 hours on the game and i’m not even past chapter 2 (っ- ‸ – ς) why progress when i can save myself the pending heartbreak and instead admire this pretty man and his journal sketches?
anyways…love all you arthur morgan kissers ♡
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“my body doesn’t feel right as of late. my hands are too rough, my face is all wrinkled up, and my voice isn’t all that pleasant. if only i could sound as smooth as i write.
never been the most confident of men, but well, this body’s what i’m stuck with. used to go months on end without shaving until i realized my beard looked like bills. how embarrassing. miss grimshaw, the strong-headed woman she is, knocked some sense into me too. well…more like slapped me.
shaving makes me look more approachable, and that’s not really a good thing with my reputation. but, i did it anyway and spent a pretty penny on the barber up in valentine’s…had to pay a bit extra because of the drunken ruckus lenny and i caused there last time.
if my heart hadn’t been captured, maybe these worries of mine wouldn’t even exist.
oh, the ridiculous things love does to a man…”
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꒰ fem!reader ꒱
“about as beautiful as the stars above; a woman so otherworldly that sometimes I have to look away. she shines too brightly for these tired eyes of mine. i suppose that’s for the best, ain’t it? a man like me, the walking embodiment of sin, isn’t worthy of such a loving lady.
but that doesn’t keep her away. she often asks me to recount some of my adventures, and i hesitantly do so, fearful she’ll think me a bad man. craziest thing is, she looks more worried than anything else whenever i do as told. telling me to be more careful with that honey-like voice of hers. could listen to it all day. it’s like a balm to the soul.
can’t keep myself away from her either. doesn’t matter what she’s doing, i always find myself wandering over to her. i don’t usually have trouble sleeping, i’m like some rock when it comes to it. but she’s occupied my mind too much lately, falling asleep is difficult. like right now. should be sleeping, but i’m not. just up wondering about the ifs and hows.
i’ve been saving up some money so i can go get her something real nice, maybe a pretty dangly necklace. could just steal one, but i want to prove myself to her. she deserves the best, not something that belonged to some other stranger.
god knows i’d do whatever i can to keep her safe and sound. i’d die for her. funny thing is, i considered myself to be a selfish man before breathing the same air as her.
i can say with absolute certainty that i would give up everything for a future with her.
if she’d have me.
now, this fool’s about to try and sketch her.
not sure if i can encapsulate her beauty onto a page, though.”
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꒰ male!reader ꒱
“i fear I’m going mad. i never thought i’d feel this way about a man before. then again, pursuit of romance has never been a priority in my life. he’s one of a kind, something about him makes my palms feel all clammy.
he never leaves my head, every inch of this brain of mine is consumed with thoughts of him. his grin, the way his hat perches on his head, the stories he shares ‘round the campfire.
i’ve come across many men on all my journeys, but his handsomeness is unmatched. and he’s different. doesn’t nag me like dutch or get on my nerves like micah, but he isn’t just a brother like some of the other folks here.
i’ve been a bit too scared to drink these days. you know me, i spill my guts out and say stupid things like a damn fool when i get like that. wouldn’t know what to do if i were to sputter out how fine of a fella i think he is, or how grateful i am for him. is this only a special friendship? no, i don’t know how to describe this.
well, yes i do, actually.
love.
my fingers trembled while writing that.
some may call this spark a sin, but going down an altar with him would be a taste of heaven itself. that wish is too far-fetched though.
all i ask for is a sign. just one. maybe i’m misreading the glimmer in his eye, or the way the bastard slings his arm over my shoulder and sings after he downs some moonshine.
weird how life works, isn’t it?”
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wyllsravengard · 7 months
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mutuals i know you don't know arthur morgan and a lot of you never will but i really need you to know how Moving and Compelling the cowboy game is like im being deranged of course and i do hyperfixate so often but arthur morgan is such a well written character he has such an amazing arc and genuinely it makes me sick thinking about him for more than a single minute. his entire story is based in this inevitable doom and its obvious from the beginning of the game that things are starting to go wrong. you learn about arthur slowly, and at the start - he's exactly the kind of man and protagonist you expect. he's cold and he's uncaring at least seemingly and he's awkward and he's badass and what every man who plays a game like this would want. but then he isn't. you start to play the game and you look at arthurs journal and you get to see him introspect and you get to view the sort of tenderness he sees the entire world with. he is so tender he is so thoughtful he is so considerate of nature and he takes so many things to heart. he has something to say and introspect of everyone he meets. he cares deeply about this world he's in and struggles so much to find a place with in. he admonishes himself and praises characters like charles who seem to be so good naturally. he believes deeply in his own evil and acts on, and he has a code sure - but he never feels good about what he does and it causes him such deep strife. he clings onto the life he has because its all he knows. being an outlaw is all he has ever known of himself, been like that since he was fourteen. just a boy and the two men who adopted him into his gang. he clings so desperately onto this belief that even when things fall apart, all arthur can hope for is that he can save those he cares about. its what he has always wanted deep down. its who he is which is someone who is sensitive and careful and wants deeply to live in a good world and be apart of a good world. the gang falls apart and everything goes to shit and where does that leave arthur? when young men and good men die? the man he admires as his father dies and whats left of them becomes the worst version of himself and so arthur, after all of this time, becomes his own man. at some point, he realizes what matters most to him is his brother and the woman he has a child with. and he realizes that he is simply afraid but what of exactly? of believing that he was good all along. of accepting that he has changed and that he was always good. its all so very complicated and shit starts to go down hill so quickly and just when you think it can't get worse - arthur goes to the doctor. hes sick. its tuberculosis. ailment that he received when he beat a man who couldn't pay his debts and committed a sin so great. arthur is going to die. he's sick. its not a bullet that will kill him but the weakness in his body. the same thing will happen to him in some crazy tragedy. arthur will give his life up for john and he won't regret it. he'll tell the shell of his father figure that he gave up everything for him. he will die alone in the mountains and see a stag bathed in yellow gold. but he will believe in goodness at the end because of a nun in saint denis and the woman mothering his little brothers child. he will believe deeply in the kindness of the world because he chooses to. arthur will die because he is doomed to die. there's nothing he can do except go, and he will never live to know what an impact he had on those around him. every life he's ever touched so profoundly effected by him and he never gets to find out. the man he used to admire so much, charles, buries arthur somewhere where the sun always rises. even in death he haunts the world of the game like a ghost. arthur morgan is dead and you'll hear him every where you go. john inherits his dead brothers journal and his guns and everything else and he learns a side to him he never knew. arthur morgan is dead and the world rippled in his absence like a drop of water pulsing through a lake. and he loved. most of all he loved the people around him. he loved.
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coolestzed · 16 days
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So like, can someone explain to me-
Why the FUCK is Arthur/The Green Knight so underrated???
I mean seriously! This guy is so blatantly ignored by the fandom despite how interesting of a character he is!
He was a man twisted by his own grief and hatred. He loved his sister but still inwardly feared her abilities and held prejudice against her. He was so tormented by his actions and was ready to atone for his sins and make amends with his sister.
As the Green Knight he was an intimidating villain. He was throwing all of them around like rag dolls and he put chilling fear into both the characters and the audience. (At least me. That mf was SCARY-). And he was a husk of the man he used to be. He still wants to atone for his past sins, but this time in a much more destructive way.
Despite all of this, barely anyone pays attention to him. I get it, Wizards was rushed and that definitely affected how the characters were handled (still mad Arthur’s character development went down the drain with no payoff), but there’s still so much you could do with his character!
I see all this art of the Arcane Order, but the Green Knight is hardly ever included despite being their champion for centuries. Hell! I see more art and fanfiction of the Arcane Order + Morgana, which is straight BULLSHIT!!!!
You’re tellin me, that despite the fact that this man Arthur literally has spent CENTURIES with the Order -not to mention how his soul got fucked up by them- there isn’t a lick of content regarding that, and instead that spotlight is given to Morgana, who hardly spent any time with the Order at all? (Seriously, she’s only worked with them twice. The second time reluctantly).
THE ANGST MATERIAL IS RIGHT THERE!!!! USE IT!!!
In conclusion, Arthur is underrated and deserves more attention.
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a-funeral-pyre · 5 months
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May Day Parade 2024 - Prompt One: May King Mordred
I did an attempt at re-editing and finally posting an old fic of mine for @queer-ragnelle 's May Day Parade! Although I have to admit I am not fully satisfied by the translation, but there is not much that can be done for that. Here we go:
“Yit that traytour […] Turns hym furthe tite, and talks no more Went wepand awaye, and weries the storndys That ever his werdes ware wroght, siche wandrethe to wyrke” (Allitterative Morthe Arthure)
The sky should not have been so dark today. It is barely midday, and this should have been a peaceful day. But the sun is gone, along with any hope of changing things.
It doesn't cause you any pain. Darkness is your most ancestral memory.
You were born in darkness. You were always destined to live there. Generous hands have rescued you from the abyss only to lead you onto a path devoid of light.
Deep down, you have known it from the beginning.
Before you even knew who you really were there was a voice that came from the night and whispered to your soul. You knew you were fated to be more than just a fisherman's son.
You thought your destiny was to become the heir of a king. You realized too late that you had to be an avenger.
Your father must pay for what he did.
It seems everyone has forgotten the massacre he chose to carry out. Everyone except you. And now you will bring justice and take your rightful place.
You could have repressed your hatred if it weren't for the blood that unites you. You did not ask to be born. You are just the result of his actions, but he's always been too busy looking at you suspiciously to realize that. He never wanted you and he tried to destroy you as soon as you came into this world. The time has come to punish him.
And you don't care how many will be burned by your revenge. Not anymore.
You could have spared Guinevere. But she didn't deserve to have Gareth pay for her. You wished it was her beautiful, cruel face to be frozen in death, her head to be severed. She could have loved you. If not as a wife, then at least as a friend.
But you are the symbol of her husband's guilt, and this is enough to make you enemies.
Now it doesn't matter anymore. You stopped desiring her. When you return, seeing her become aware that in the end you won - the bastard, the traitor, the sick fruit of the king's sin - will be enough.
This time you are certain to win. The darkness around you is witness to this. You will have what is yours, you will avenge the victims of your father, your mother...
And yourself.
Maybe your father thought this time would never come. Maybe he believed that welcoming you into his court was enough to erase the fact that he tried to kill you.
He was naive enough to think you were harmless and he thought that, like everyone else, you couldn't see through his mask of justice and virtue.
All you had to do was look him in his eyes to know what he thought of you. A youthful mistake, a child that should never have been born, dangerous just for existing. He could never have been a father to you. He could never see you as anything other than an enemy.
Now he doesn't hide it anymore.
All your life you have done what he taught you. You have lied. You will rise to power by cheating and killing, as your grandfather did, and you will prove yourself to be your father's worthy son. Then the throne can only be yours.
You are not alone. You have an army with you. Men who saw you worthy of being king, men who long to see you in your father's place. And it doesn't matter that they only follow you for the benefits you promised them. They chose to help you. They chose to raise you to the place you should not have conquered by force. They are more loyal to you than your family ever was.
You have them, and more. You have the blood of kings on your side. You are about to kill a murderer If there really is a just God, He can only be on your side.
You can finally take off the mask you've kept on for years and breathe. For the first time, you are truly alive.
This unnatural night that has fallen on the world will be the dawn of victory for you.
The lie you have woven all these years has come to an end. Just a few hours and you will be king. You will get what you want. You will be respected, you will be loved.
You have to keep telling yourself this until it's all over. Just one last trick on yourself. Just enough to keep going.
Then you will be satisfied with having repaired the wrong you have suffered. You will be able to go on living alone. It won't be too difficult – it's just what you've done so far.
You were born for this moment, to follow the path that fate had written for you. You will have to be able to survive what comes next.
You will have to delude yourself that you can achieve victory. That you can be the master of your destiny.
You have believed in your hatred for so long that you no longer perceive its meaning, but you have gone too far to stop now. You've been alone too long to find a way to bridge the gap between you and your father. From the beginning you had to take on this role. Thus said the prophecy that shaped you.
Deep down you are aware that only emptiness will come afterwards. You've been waiting for this moment your whole life. And you are afraid, because without the desire that has sustained you so far you will no longer be anything.
This will be your last moment. If you survived, you could try to be reborn. You could truly live, finally, once you are free from your father's shadow.
But you are not made for the light of life. Only for this darkness. Only in this moment, now that you are so close to your goal, you really exist.
And nothing has changed compared to before. You are still completely alone.
You had no one to accompany you this far. If Agravain lent you his help, it wasn't because he believed in you. There is no seer who can advise you along the way. As if the fate that put you on this path had abandoned you from the beginning.
You are not naive enough to delude yourself that things will change when all this is over. You have to believe that it is a valid price to pay for what you are about to do, because now you can no longer go back.
You will undo everything you were, everything you are. You're not sure if you'll still be anything after that.
But you can't care about what you might have been if there had been another way. Not anymore. It didn't matter to your father, a bastard born of deception too virtuous to let you become king like he did. You should follow his example, at least this time, and bury all visions of a brighter future.
Even if you had the chance to rebel in the past, you can't do it now. You are just the shadow that must suffocate the light.
You see him, your father, in front of you. Proud and terrible. White and shining. The sun that disappeared from the sky was incarnated in him.
It will burn you, and you know it. You are already defeated. You're better off accepting it and giving up. He will never forgive you, you would die anyway, but at least you would have consciously chosen something, even just once in your entire life.
There's no more time.
As much as it is a crime, as much as it is useless and does not fulfill your hopes, you will do what is right. What you want, what you have to.
All you will do is fulfill desires that were never entirely yours. You have to accept your nature. You are just an instrument of fate.
And when your father dies, you will bring no new dawn. Only darkness and silence, again.
You could have had a normal life. Arthur might have made you his heir. Or he would simply smile at you, every now and then. He would have spoken to you with the same love with which he spoke to your brothers. If he hadn't believed in the prophecy. If I hadn't hated you. If you had not hated him, fulfilling your fate.
You never had a choice.
You had to get here no matter what. You have shed too much blood and tears. Gawain, who, however loyal he was to the wrong person, was still your brother, was only the last of the sacrifices, of the bodies you had to pile up to climb to this moment.
You can't stop anymore. There is nothing left that can save your soul, or at least deprive you of the painful awareness of having lived in vain.
Your father was a glorious and ephemeral flame. You were born just to turn the page.
Nothing more than this.
You existed for him, and together with him you will die. There is nothing you can do to change things now.
Just a moment and you will be free from everything. Whatever awaits you in hell will be no worse than the years you spent on this Earth.
And as his spear slides into you, as his light pierces you, you just wish you had another chance, to go back, change fate, and be happy.
But it's too late. Your name will always be a whisper in the darkness, a black stain in this shining legend, and in your torn body there is no longer enough breath to cry out your pain.
Camlann stands silently over your ruin.
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sunsetstarrogue · 7 months
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Sunsets Masterlist
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Ghost: Rhaenys-centric, angst, angst and more angst.
Since the death of her mother Rhaenys had longed to go to her homeland. Elia Martell had spoken of her home so fondly that her daughter could not help but long for it, especially after her mother had left her.
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You're On Your Own, Kid (You Always Have Been): Rhaenys-centric, Rhaenys Targaryen x Robb Stark.
Rhaenys never wanted to marry Robb Stark, but here she was; with the King and his men on her way North to pay for the sins of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark.
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Right Where You Left Me: Rhaenys-centric, Rhaenys Targaryen x Robert Baratheon(political), angst.
Rhaegar's life is spared by the valiant intervention of Arthur Dayne, moments before Robert deals the fatal blow. With their lives preserved, Rhaegar and the remaining Targaryens seek refuge on Dragonstone, eventually making their escape to Essos. Regrettably, Rhaegar is forced to leave his eldest daughter behind. Left in the midst of her adversaries, Rhaenys grows up surrounded by those who view her as an enemy. As time passes, she becomes entangled in the treacherous game of thrones, particularly in the aftermath of Cersei and Jaime Lannister's public execution for their incestuous relationship. Caught in a web of schemes and deceit, Rhaenys finds herself compelled to employ similar tactics in order to ensure her own survival.
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Sequel to Right Where You Left Me - Ptolemaea: Rhaenys-centric, angst, family drama.
Seventeen years have passed since Robert's rise to the throne, forcing Rhaegar and his kin into exile in Essos. Now, Rhaegar has journeyed back with a singular yearning in mind: to reclaim his daughter, Rhaenys. She had been held captive, first by Aerys Targaryen as a pawn against the Dornish, and then again by Robert Baratheon. However, Rhaegar's return unfolds in a manner he never foresaw. The longed-for reunion he had pictured is tempered by an unexpected chill. The reality before him dashes his hopes of a heartwarming reconnection. Enraged by her father's culpability in her king's and husband's deaths, and his seizing of the crown from her son, Rhaenys is resolved to seek retribution for the wrongs inflicted upon her, her children, and her mother.
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Fires of Fate: ASOIAF/Silmarillion crossover, Rhaenys-centric.
In which after her death, the Gods of Old Valyria send Rhaenys Targaryen to the lands of Aman.
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Baelon The Cruel And His Queen Of Love And Beauty: OC/Elia Martell, Elia Martell/Rhaegar Targaryen, crack.
Baelon Targaryen, the second-born son of King Aerys and Queen Rhaella, and the twin brother to Crown Prince Rhaegar, possessed an ethereal beauty expected of one with Valyrian blood. Yet, behind his captivating face, an aura of cruelty and ruthlessness lingered, casting an unsettling shadow over his reputation. And his sudden appearance at the Tourney at Harrenhal unknowingly changes everything. (or just a crack fic about Rhaegar's 'cruel' twin brother and his shenanigans at the famed Tourney at Harrenhal)
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You Were My Crown(Now I'm In Exile): Elia-centric, Elia Martell/Rhaegar Targaryen, Elia Martell/Baelor Hightower.
Shortly following her death, Elia Martell is granted an unexpected opportunity for a new beginning. Armed with insight into her own future, she's resolute in evading the path she once walked. Yet, unbeknownst to her, one of the individual's implicated in her tragic end has also been granted a chance at redemption. Will Rhaegar Targaryen manage to rectify his past transgressions, or will he once again succumb to the labyrinth of his own thoughts?
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We Fall Apart As It Gets Dark: Elia-centric, Elia Martell/Brandon Stark, Elia Martell/Rhaegar Targaryen.
The apparent abduction of Lyanna Stark sets off a chain of events: Brandon Stark and his allies march to the Red Keep, where Brandon demands Rhaegar's head. A duel is called by Aerys, and fire serves as his champion, leading to the death of Brandon's father and Brandon's own imprisonment. It's only after these events that a letter arrives at Winterfell, written by Lyanna herself, explaining that she left of her own accord. The deaths of the Lord of Winterfell and the Heir of the Eyrie, along with Aerys' demand for the heads of Robert and Ned, ignite a rebellion. Elia, isolated in Kings Landing without her children, must play her role as the dutiful wife. However, complications arise when the man who once demanded her husband’s head becomes her constant companion, the Kingsguard sworn to her. Will she stay true to her duty or follow her husband's example and forsake it?
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Reckless: Elia-centric, Elia Martell/Rhaegar Targaryen, angst.
"Get out," she tells him. "Leave." "You're not going to talk to me?" His voice comes out hoarse; she wonders why. "You've done enough!" she lets out. He looks disappointed when she says it, his eyes clouding over. She almost apologizes for snapping at him. But she reminds herself that he shouldn't be here at all, he shouldn't be here with her. "Goodbye, Rhaegar," she says gently, not allowing any trace of emotion to surface in her voice. The name sounds foreign coming out of her mouth, as though it belongs to someone else. She wishes for the days to go back to before he met Lyanna. Before everything turned sour. Before it was too late. or Rhaegar returns to her but things are difficult now.
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What Is Meant For You Will Stay: Rhaenys-centric, angst.
Rhaenys was gently shaken awake. The sheets beneath her rustled a bit as she moved, the night shift she wore rode up as she squirmed trying to get away from the callous hands that shook her awake. Her mind was foggy and disoriented as she stirred awake. Rhaenys sprung to life when her mind finally registered that someone was with her, in her chambers, late at night. Her eyes searched wildly in the darkness, desperately trying to catch a glimpse of the stranger. “A man does not wish to harm the Princess,” the voice came out in a low tone, almost like a faint whisper, “The Princess must remain calm,” the voice was masculine and Rhaenys felt the fear within her tremble. or Rhaegar flees to Essos with his family, though he leaves his daughter behind. Years later, he hires a faceless man to bring her to him.
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avelera · 1 year
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soooo, you know who probably has a TON of Faustus/Mephistophilis fanfiction ideas? That, even if he never writes them, will turn up in his boyfriend's library of all the books ever dreamed of but never written...which may take some influence from his relationship with said otherworldly thought-he-was-a-devil-for-a-while-and-may-not-have-stopped-by-the-1500s boyfriend...
oh my GOD, Anon, oh MY GOD
OAISDAIOSDJS
I need my smelling salts, one moment, OH MY GOD...
...OK I'M BACK
YES, Hob Gadling ABSOLUTELY projected WILDLY onto Kit Marlowe's Doctor Faustus x Mephistophilis. Did he write fic? Maybe, maybe not he definitely jerked off to fic he never wrote, I'm just saying but there are definitely Hob fanfics FOR Doctor Faustus in Dream's library of "books that were never written"
Just... oh my god, look, I've made references across many of my Dreamling fics but especially throughout "Giving Sanctuary" to Hob being utterly obsessed with "Doctor Faustus" and becoming Kit Marlowe's patron for a minute there because of it (which would have been shortly before he died) and having gone to see it so many times that he had it memorized at one point, and it being the first time he had more than a passing interest in the arts or a play (when it wasn't, y'know, his job as a printer's apprentice).
But I will admit, my assumption he'd like it was based a bit on the cliff notes version and my reading of other versions of Faust. Seeing the Arthur Darvill play was so, so vindicating because, uh huh, yeah yeah yeah, Hob was utterly obsessed with this play, and I will accept no criticism.
Like the scene where some men try to kill Faust by beheading him and he ends up just standing there, holding his own severed head in his hand as he comes to life? I bet you Hob absolutely blanched at that scene and wondered if Marlowe had been spying on him during an unfortunate moment (if he hadn't told Marlowe about it himself). Also, all of Faust's misfortunes come from his deal ending when he dies, but he gets a good life until then. Hob Gadling was totally like, "RIP, Doctor Faustus, but I'm different. My life might not always be amazing, but at least I don't have to worry about fuckin' demons dragging my still-screaming soul down to Hell!"
But also just like... the very clear themes of how a seductive, irresistible man will damn you soul to Hell. That knowledge, and learning, and ignoring institutions that try to control you in favor of living the life you want are all sins just has so many layers of what I assume were known-bisexual Marlowe's own conflict with his chosen life vs. his upbringing. And I'm sure those concerns spoke to Hob's own fears around this spectacular life he has (especially in the 1500s) and the lingering fear that one day he might have to pay the piper.
But yes, Doctor Faustus x Mephistophilis is like the original vampire seduction. Hob canonically worried specifically that he made a bargain with the Devil, that play would have raised the hair on the back of his neck but also... Mephistophilis is hot? And he and Doctor Faustus are like weird fucked up tragic soulmates? Yeah Hob had so, so (so so so) many feelings about this play!
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verdemoun · 2 months
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Do they get a reminder that their world now still isn’t completely safe and accepting of them? Like, it’s safer and more accepting, but not completely.
me: hey guys i have this super fun idea for a modern au where the gang have memories canon events and slowly become ooc through healing y'all: when do they die. how to they deal with trauma. what was hosea's funeral like. do they get hate crimed
of course they do. modern era is modern era. things have changed. some for the better, some for the absolute worse.
bessie has to give the girls a lecture that the danger that men pose to women has not changed. they shouldn't be walking home alone at night. vaccines might have reduced the number of women killed by disease but just made it more obvious how explicitly men were a risk to women.
the girlies didn't believe it until karen and jenny, having had a great but surprisingly tame night at the bar, noticed a guy walking behind them as they made their way home. the guy proceeded to lurk outside the house despite lenny and sean having both made their presences known. it wasn't until arthur turned up, hunting bow in hand ready, that the guy sprinted off into the dark
kieran actually did have a job for a brief period of time! the stable where bessie took him horseriding informally hired him as a groom, cash in hand for weekends whenever he felt like working, only to change hands and the new owner very aggressively tell him to fuck off because why would they pay a (multiple ableist and homophobic slurs) to do basic chores
not only was kieran distraught to lose his only regular contact with horses, but how upsetting it actual moment was: to be excited for work only to find out about the new management by said new management screaming at him, heckling him with all the same abusive mannerisms of the o'driscolls. it took weeks for him to leave the house afterwards
homophobia is still very much a thing. on one hand the gang are used to 19th century murdered for being queer homophobia, on the other homophobia is fucking loud. it is organized and it is everywhere, especially whenever elections were coming up.
arthur considers himself lucky he just deals with generic homophobia. sure he gets women promising to turn him straight, and he accidentally brutally declares 'ma'am i do in fact like women and men but i'm sure no matter what you were i wouldn't think you were worth pissing on'
the religious rooted homophobia? that hits sean hard. he considers himself catholic, not a very good catholic but a catholic none the less, and when religious groups preach hate and sin it effects him. surely being an outlaw condemned his soul enough. sometimes he needs that extra support from the gang that whatever god there is wouldn't actually hate him for finding happiness with lenny
bill internalizes everything. he comes so far in being comfortable and able to accept himself only to be knocked back by homophobic media and protest and suddenly want to hide again. the tension wrestling with the fact being out and meeting other gay people makes him profoundly happy and then how much he already hates himself only to (re)discover in modern era that people still think he should hate himself for being gay
but absolutely none of them would argue lenny doesn't have it the worst. lenny deals with a) homophobia and racism in his workplace as a university lecturer surrounded by old money conservative white men b) racism within the queer community, forced to swallow that 19th century urge to end an argument with a gun when someone says something that is explicit fetishization that becomes explicit racism when he says no c) being a black man in modern america.
lenny is not shy about the fact he misses the fact in 19th century he could shoot a man that was pissing him off, escape like he did in strawberry, and keep riding until he found somewhere safe. for lenny, modern era doesn't feel safer like it does for the rest of the gang, just a different kind of dangerous.
even after a decade in timewarp, lenny is still shocked by how deep racism runs. one of the worst days of his life, in either era, was a day he had to pick up maeve from school. he was listed as the second emergency contact if sean wasn't available. he was listed as sean's partner. the school knew sean was in a same sex relationship and were supportive. but lenny, a black man, turning up asking to pick up maeve, who was sick, who saw him and called out for him dad, when lenny had all his id on him that matched perfectly with the information that was provided to the school - they still called the cops
and the cops turned up, and maybe it was spectacularly shit cops but they drew their guns on lenny, an unarmed black man, trying to pick up his daughter from school. it was only that karen, who previously thought she wouldn't be able to get there, turned up and said 'that is maeve's father what the fuck are you doing'
maeve didn't understand why she had to change school and threw a mighty tantrum until she was assured abigail jr would be changing school as well after the incident. the next school were almost uncomfortable with how clear sean was in saying my partner is a black man but understood having heard about the incident, and were very supportive
lenny still feels uncomfortable going to school events despite how much he adores seeing maeve at school, participating and trying her best and getting the opportunity to be more than any of them got to be in 19th century. he is both paranoid but knows he is not being paranoid people are watching him out the corner of their eyes just for being a black man
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iboatedhere · 1 year
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@welcometololaland you said you wanted the raven prompt. (is it stupid? I kinda love it but it could also be bad.........I'm spiraling, someone check on me, I'm up there making pickles)
---
“Right, well…” He takes another step and the ravens react, flapping their wings and squawking and Henry freezes in place. “They don’t like me much, do they?”
“Cornbread and Stuffing can see into your soul,” Alex says darkly. “They know your sins.”
Henry takes a step back and Alex’s mouth curves up into a smile. 
“I’m fucking with you,” he tells Henry, “but they can tell that you’re nervous.”
“That should be fairly obvious,” Henry says as he takes a hesitant step forward, sliding the ring off his finger. “May I?” He asks, holding it out to the birds. “I heard they like shiny things. I’m sorry I only have one, but perhaps they can share.”
“You don’t need to do that,” Alex tells him as one of the birds pecks inquisitively at the ring. 
“It’s quite alright,” Henry says as the ring is pulled from his grasp. “If I get what I want from you I won’t need it anymore.”
“And what is it that you want?”
“My father passed away—.”
Alex shakes his head, holds up his hands, and cuts him off. “No.”
“--four months ago—.”
“I can’t help you.”
“I would do anything to get him back.”
“I can’t do it.”
“I know that you can. I’ve heard the stories.”
“You heard wrong.”
“I know that I didn’t.”
“Listen, Mr….”
“Fox,” Henry answers, “Henry Fox. My father’s name was Arthur Fox—.”
“Henry, man, I’m really sorry for your loss but I can’t do that—.”
“I’m willing to pay.”
“Then you can’t know the price.”
“I do, a heart for a life. You can take mine, I don’t want it, I don’t need it. It died when he did.”
“You don’t know what you’re saying.”
“I do,” Henry insists, “and if you won’t help me I’ll find someone else.”
“There is no one else, no one legit anyways. Someone else will just take more.” 
“Then I’ll give it. I don’t care, I’m desperate.”
“That’s a dangerous place to be, Henry.”
“I know, that’s why I’m standing here begging you to help me. I can’t go on like this. Please.”
Alex sighs and grabs the ring from one of the ravens who pecks at Alex’s hand. He holds it out to Henry then pulls it back.  
“Go out to dinner with me tonight.”
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evita-shelby · 1 year
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Incantatrice
Chapter 15
Cw: the usual shit like mentioned murders, some slut shaming, etc
Gif by @eyemarchshelby
Taglist: @thegreatdragonfruta @zablife @babayaga67 @wandawiccan60 @call-sign-shark
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While Luca coordinates the murder of the Shelby who started this, Eva decides to meet the woman at the center of it all: Elizabeth Stark.
“Did he ever give you the ring?” Eva asks as the woman aims a gun at the stranger in her house.
“Who are you, how did you get in here?” She asks knowing damn well what she means and yet hoping it is not the case.
“Not here to kill you, as much as they blame you for his death, it wasn’t entirely your fault I suppose.” The witch raised her hands to show she was unarmed ---not that she needed a weapon in her hands to do so if she changed her mind--- and the woman drops her weapon.
“I didn’t want him to die, we were supposed to run away to New York, but ---” Lizzie Stark can’t even say it.
But they own me.
He owns me.
Women once hired and had by a gangster cease to belong to themselves and become his.
Lizzie had only changed hands from John to Tommy Shelby the moment she agreed to be his secretary and personal whore.
“Oh, I know, he owns you. But that’s not the whole of it, I know that with just a snap of his fingers Thomas Shelby had you on your knees for him even that night before the wedding. Didn’t matter he had a wife; it wasn’t like she existed to be anything but a pretty trophy.
If he took you away, Angel had hoped you would forget Thomas, but you just had to tell him you were leaving. You wanted him to stop you.”
It is a low blow, but Eva doesn’t care.
She needs her guilt to drive a wedge between Shelby and his family.
Lizzie was more loyal to him than his aunt and brothers combined.
If Lizzie faltered, Shelby would have no one to turn to.
“I, I—” Lizzie, a woman who life made strong as steel, crumpled like a flower. “I didn’t know John would attack him. I didn’t know he would have him killed like that!”
Guilt is such a powerful tool.
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“He has a wife.” Lizzie says as she sits herself in his old office and both act as if nothing is going on. “She is a witch like Polly.”
They were here waiting for the others.
No one save Ada, Arthur, Finn, and Michael had come home.
Linda had gone to her old house, locked the door behind them and said she’d be damned if her baby boy must pay for their sins.
“And you want me to believe you?” Thomas asked sarcastically. While he treaded with care about this side of things, he knew most witches were frauds.
This is not the case.
“She knew we fucked the night before your wedding. That you told me that the Grace you were marrying felt like pretty trophy to you.” This catches his attention, blue eyes narrowing in fear.
Even if they killed the Italians, one curse was enough to make sure they follow them to hell right after.
Thomas’ mother had laid a curse on the woman who called the parish on Polly and took her children, the woman choked on the body of Christ the following Sunday and dropped dead right there on the church.
Then people knew not to fuck with a Shelby.
“What did she want?” he asks knowing he won’t trust her with the answer she gives him.
How could you let him, I wanted out of this hell, Tommy! She remembers screaming at him when Angel’s mother called from the hospital to tell her what John did.
And then he told her he had killed Angel. That he himself had put a pillow over his face because it was his fault Grace was dead.
And somehow that pain, that blood in his hands led to them fucking like animals in the bed once occupied by the wife he never even knew.
“To present different terms. Luca and his mother want all of you gone, but she knows the vendetta can end if just the ones with blood on their hands are dead. That there was no need for anyone else to die, which is why she had the Macmillan’s take Charlie from you.”
Tell him it was me, she said fixing her red lipstick as she left.
“Nothing else?” he asks, thinking she is lying to him.
He won’t believe you, but oh well, Miss Stark, the witch had said.
Thomas trusted her with everything except his head and heart.
Grace, not the one he married, but the lying rat from the Garrison, he had trusted with his head and heart.
“No.”
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“I was thinking, Maga we need a bambino to name after my brother. A little Angelo or Angelina to remember him by.” Luca said as they enjoyed the great start the vendetta had had.
It is Christmas morning when the first body falls.
Lizzie was not believed, and Tommy Shelby’s paranoia isolated him from everyone, Polly assumed she had fooled them and would learn the hard way no one lied to them and lived and soon all this would be over.
Thomas would have killed Michael anyways, better them than him, the witch supposed.
Esme Shelby would take the children and leave for France, Linda Shelby would not need much encouragement to leave England with her sweet baby boy and Finn Shelby, well, he may try but he has no taste for this sort of life.
Ada Thorne and her son would have to die as well if she doesn’t know what’s good for her. Change her name, move to some nice Jewish Neighborhood, marry a nice Jewish man, and forget she was ever a Shelby.
“Maybe, once this is over. Spring is a perfectly good time to give our new kingdom another little princess. Angela Lucia, what do you think?” she asks as she drinks in the sight below her window, while Small Heath reminded her of the less than picturesque parts of Mexico City, this would be theirs.
No more biting her tongue, no more being the quiet and well-mannered lady who is fine with not being the queen of the land.
Even her card has changed.
It was not the High Priestess anymore.
Eva had become the Empress.
And every empress needs an empire.
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yelenasdiary · 2 years
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Hi! Love your work, could I have a request if they are open, if not don’t worry.
Could you do a mediaeval Natasha story where they’re both in an arranged marriage and meet after a year of sending letters while they waited for (whoever the younger one is) to turn 18 so they could marry and rule over one of the kingdoms. They send portraits of one another before the meeting then when they meet they actually like each other since they’ve been talking over letter and share similar interests. Like y/n is also a knight and the only woman to do so in her whole kingdom because her father approved in her wanting to follow in his footsteps. Natasha wasn’t allowed so on their first meeting they sneak away from the boring wedding planning and go out on y/n’s horse and to her favourite spot outside the kingdom and y/n teaches Nat how to use a sword and how to fight, she trips and y/n catches her then they have their first kiss✨✨
Paper Love
Pairing: Princess! Natasha Romanoff x Knight! Reader
Summary: Falling for a princess was never the in your plans…  
Fluff | Slight Angst | 2.1K | Arranged Marriage | Homophobia | 
Translation: My peerless paramour (my sweetheart), hale be thou (be healthy), Beauteous (beautiful), My sweeting (my sweet one), 
AC: I hope you don’t mind I made Nat a princess! This was something very different for me to write so I hope you enjoy this! Please forgive my poor attempt to make this feel as medieval as possible lmao. 
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"My peerless paramour, I awaiten for thee moment I see your beauteous self. I long to see your smile in person. I keep your portrait with me always. 
Hale be thou, my peerless paramour.
~ Y/n of Zeus"
The princess smiled at your short but sweet letter, oh how she was excited to finally meet the one person who understood her the most. The one to make her smile and forget about her husband who cared no more for her. You were to marry the great Arthur of Maelstrom, a Kingdom that was a 9-day horseback ride from Zeus. Your father, the King was excited to throw the Kingdom the celebration that his youngest child was to wed. To say he had a soft spot for you was an understatement. When you said you wanted to be a Knight and follow in your father's footsteps before becoming King, your mother forbidden the dream and demanded you acted like a lady as that was what you were, a lady.
But your father somehow, without your understanding was able to convince your mother that in his Kingdom his children were to be as they wished. He didn't think you'd become a well skilled Knight like himself for you were a lady and it was very unusual for a lady to be doing activates that only men did. "See me in my chambers after breakfast my sweeting for I have a gift for you" your father nodded as you took your seat at the large dining table for breakfast. 
The princess of Aksumite was said to be the most beautiful princess anybody had laid eyes on, and you longed to know her. Sending her a letter over a year ago, not expecting to hear a reply, you soon found the both of you had more in common than you could imagine. She too wanted to be a Knight, but her father would never allow it and she would follow in the footsteps of the Queen, her mother. Letters were sent back and forth once a week, keeping them as short and sweet as possible when your love started to bloom through the paper of words. If anybody found out about this affair, it was certain that the two of you would pay the price in death for such sinful love. 
"Are you ready, Princess?" The voice of her husband made the hairs on the back of her neck stand tall, "Yes, my love. We shall aboard the carriage" she smiled with warmth before she followed closely behind him out to the main gates of the Kingdom. She wore her best dress and her golden hair styled to perfection; she was sure to make the best impression for when she laid eyes on you for the first time. 
As requested, you met your father in his chambers. He welcomed you with a smile as he sipped his drink. "My child, my youngest" he turned to you, "Today you will be the one to take over the Kingdom" he spoke to your shock. "Don't look at me like that. Your sister has her own duties within her Kingdom. All this was meant to be yours. Arthur as agreed to move into the castle after the wedding, here you will raise your children to be next in line for the title" he explains more as his words run wildly through your mind. 
"B-but father – "
"You will do this my child. You will be wed and live out your days here" he cut you off earning himself a light nod from yourself. It was never of any use to fight with him. "Now, I want to give you something very important to me. I trust you will look after it" he says before walking towards his weapon rack. Even as a child, you always admired the weapons he kept on display in his chambers, never being allowed to touch them almost drove you insane. He gently grabs one of his swords and turns to face you. 
"This was given to me by my father, and I want you to have it. You have proven to be a great Knight my sweeting" he smiles softly as you take the sword from his hands with pride. "T-thank you father! I will cherish this as if it is my child" you can't hide the smile tugging at your lips. "You have made me very proud; I hope when the time comes you can pass this down to your son" he sips his drink once more, "now, we must get ready. Your soon to be husband is set to arrive shortly"
--2 days later--
The party was to be expected, a great turn out. Kings and Queens, Princesses and Princes from other Kingdoms coming together to celebrate the news of your wedding which is to be held in 4 days' time. Your eyes scanned the room for the Princess whose portrait followed you everywhere since the day it arrived, a small travel sized painting of the princess you longed to meet. 
"You look lost" a voice made your heart race as you slowly turned to face the woman with green eyes and long golden hair, "Princess" you smiled softly, "you are more beauteous than I could ever image" you added making the young girl blush instantly. "We must not do this here" she mumbled as a guest walked by you both. "You have come alone?" You asked to keep from anybody over hearing. "No, I have come with my parents, sister and the man I am to wed" she replied, her eyes dropping at the mention of her soon to be husband. "You must be thirsty after such a ride, can I get you something to drink?" You asked, the princess nodded with a smile you could look at forever. 
"Follow me, stay close" you returned the smile before leading her out of the party. "Where are you taking me?" She chuckled lightly, "I want to take you somewhere, a short horse ride, I will have you back before anybody notices our absence" you replied as you approached the stable. Your father's sword sat peacefully on your hip as you got up on your horse before lending the lady a helping hand. There was little conversation as you rode to your favorite place to be in peace, a short ride down the stream of the river and up the hillside to a large tree that's branches hung low to provide privacy. 
"My lady" you smiled as you held your hand out to help her off the back of your horse, "please, call me Natasha" she replied as she got back on her feet. "Well, Natasha. It's finally nice to know the name that belongs to a beautiful soul", the woman blushed once more, "you are too kind. I have waited so long to meet you, to see you for myself. You are beautiful, I have never seen anybody like it" she smiled as she walked slowly besides you. Your cheeks beamed with a redness only she could give. "Is it true that your father allows you to be a Knight?" She asked.
"Yes. He is not long other Kings. He does not have a son, nobody to hand his wisdom too and I for one, do not like dressing up in big dresses as you are" 
"I wish my father would listen to me, just once. I wish to know the secrets of a swords, the stories of a Knight and the adventures it takes. I don't like being locked up in a castle all the time, I want to see the land, the people!" She went on as you both came to a stop by a log, sitting beside one another for the first time. 
"I could take you" you said without thinking, "Oh, don't be silly" Natasha giggled, "how could you ever take me on an adventure outside of my Kingdom? That would most certainly turn the heads of others" she added. 
"Maybe so but you would enjoy it. It is beautiful, the things you see. The wild, the fresh air, the night sky" 
"It all sounds beautiful but I'm to be a queen and nothing more" 
"You are wrong. You are much more than a queen. To me….I would take you with me, if we could" 
"But we cannot." Her tone shifted and her eyes fell to her hands in her lap as a silence grew between the both of you. "Have you ever used a sword before? You talk in one of your letters that you wanted to be a Knight" You asked to break the silence. Natasha looked up at you and shook her head lightly, "I have held one before as my father got off his horse, but I have never used one" she replied. Looking into her eyes, you slowly stood from the log and pulled out your father's sword and handed it to her. "Let me teach you" you smiled. 
Natasha smiled softly and took the sword with your hand still around the handle as she rose from the log. You walked behind her and gently wrapped your free arm around her waist, "Stand with your left foot ahead of your right" you spoke as you held her into position, both her hands gripping the weapon tightly. "There are little angles of attack, I only know of 8 but my father knows many more. "Show me?" Natasha whispered as she watched your hands move on top of hers. "Move straight down from the top" you said as you showed her each of the attacks you knew of. 
"Like this?" Natasha asked with a smile as she practiced the moves you just showed her while you took a step back, "that's right!" You smiled. You found a tough stick to use to let her put her new skills to use, "Oh no! what if I hurt you?" She stopped once she saw the stick in your hand. "It's okay, you won't" you assured her, "I want to show you how to defend yourself. Attack me" you coached her. She was hesitant at first but eventually came at you with some of the moves you taught her. You blocked each one, using the stick to playfully fight back as she giggled nervously. "You're becoming a natural" you smiled. 
"Well I know the greatest Knight" Natasha smiled as she took a few steps closer to you. Not watching where she was walking, she tripped over a few twigs. Acting faster than you have ever done before, you dropped your stick weapon and caught the princess before her dress could be ruined in the dirty. "I'm so sorry!" She looked up at you with rosey cheeks, you looked into her eyes, holding her in your arms as she tried to hide her nervous smile. "You're beautiful my princess" you spoke in an almost whisper as you brushed the loose hairs from her face, "so beautiful" you added. 
Slowly, you lean forward and press your lips gently on hers. Any feeling of the kiss being deemed as wrong or sinful never crossed your mind as she gripped your arms and kissed you back with love. The fluttering feeling in your stomach bursted with butterflies as the kids got deeper and longer, only stopping before the two of you suffocated. Natasha smiled softly before running her tongue over her lips as she looked into your eyes, "do you kiss every princess like that?" She asked. 
"I…I've never k-kissed a woman before let alone a princess, I am sorry…I wasn't thinking" you replied in a panic as you helped the princess back on her feet. Natasha chuckled slightly before cupping your face, "kiss me again" she spoke softly. Without being asked twice you crashed your lips on hers again, pulling her closer into your body. It was wrong. It was full of sin but it was beautiful and felt so right. You never wanted to let the princess go. 
"I do not wish to wed a man….not when my feelings for you are so strong" you said after breaking the second kiss. "Then we meet here once a week at sunset" Natasha suggested but it was too far of a ride on her behalf. "No" you shook your head, letting her out of your hold, "I will come to you, if that is what you wish" you added. 
——
From that night onwards, once a week, you would sneak out and meet the princess nearby her Kingdom and lay under the stars with her in your arms, kissing her whenever you pleased, hearing about her day, teaching her more about defending herself and how to use a sword. She loved every second with you, even though you both knew that it was wrong. 
She'd always be your princess and you'd always be her knight.
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ilynpilled · 2 years
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“There are no men like me. There’s only me” is so good bc yeah it is an accidental admission of loneliness that was intended as arrogant posturing, but the way it evolves into so much more. The thing is Cersei is like him, is him, supposedly, but it is a romanticized image. The point is that that is a distorted mirror for both that allows self love that is otherwise impossible. Like for Jaime, that is the illusion of the knight and maiden narrative that is keeping the faint flame (purpose, hope, life force) alive, but it is not real. “Her torch was the only light in the cavern. Her torch was the only light in the world. She turned to go.” And if Jaime is faced with actual Jaime, “his darkness”: Jaime really does not like Jaime. He is repulsed by Jaime. He compares himself to men (there are no men like me oh but there are and I hate them/myself) he draws parallels, consciously and subconsciously. The Smiling Knight, the empty chivalry of his young self in Loras (maybe Brandon as well, do not know his thoughts here we are not in his head), him equating his actions in the gold hand dream to the Mountain’s with Pia (also in ADwD, indirect parallel is made, like his thought process after being asked “Is that why you killed all the Starks?” Repeating Tywin’s dogma goes to him getting flashbacks to the dead children in crimson cloaks. The attempt at addressing the question devolves into “Brienne where are you? Have you found her?”, it goes to “the fear of a knight coming to smash the heads of children against a wall” what he represented to the Stark children in AGoT. Then the village anti-parallel with both Gregor and Tywin. Then the half moon!), he sees his soul in Ilyn, like that is the Lannister executioner, that is his silent ghost (“You were a knight once, Ser. So was I. Let us see what we are now.”) Ilyn is another mirror, (more real than the mirror of Cersei or Arthur Dayne, both are illusions for him anyway) after his confessions especially: “The pockmarks on Ser Ilyn’s face were black holes in the torchlight, as dark as Jaime’s soul.” after the Arya confession or “An ugly smile. An ugly soul” after the drunken confession. Can there even be redemption atp? is something he keeps trying to figure out. “Jaime glanced at his companion. Perhaps there is yet hope for the both of us.” And then in general, all that talk of sin, forgiveness (“Forgive me.” “Your crimes are past forgiving, Kingslayer.” “You’ve harmed others. […] The weak, the innocent...”) , crime, punishment, and simply praying, running, and being sent to the block to pay for your crimes, and punitive justice done by institutions such as the Faith. But he does not care about all that, he never truly did. Jaime and his relationship with institutions was never like that. He is the romantic protagonist. There’s only him, and his ghosts. He is keeping his oath to a dead woman. The ghosts who judge him in the weirwood dream are all dead too. It is only him. His darkness. “No doubt he wished to pray. Jaime wished to fight.” He tries to find Ilyn. He is itching for it. He needs to find Ilyn: the mirror and the executioner. He needs to “live and fight.”
Then the Lancel confrontation. Lancel thought Jaime would come and kill him for his sins. The punitive justice theme is there again. “Pray for me if you like, I’ve forgotten all the words.” He dismisses all of the religious talk. He picks up swords. Not blunted tourney swords, not anymore. Swords. And goes to the executioner/himself, and does his darkest confession in that book. It is really like: Do I want to destroy myself, or let myself destroy me, or neither?? “Kill me if you can.” , “It might please him even more to kill me.” , “He liked to believe that he was getting better, but the improvement was slow and not without cost. Underneath his steel and wool and boiled leather [he] was a tapestry of cuts and scabs and bruises.” There is truly only him. Like he is really repeatedly confronting his own soul. “Down a twisting passageway he went, narrow steps carved from the living rock, down and down. I must go up, he told himself. Up, not down. Why am I going down? Below the earth his doom awaited, he knew with the certainty of dream; something dark and terrible lurked there, something that wanted him. Jaime tried to halt, but their spears prodded him on. If only I had my sword, nothing could harm me.” It is like how George talks of Jaime’s arc: “Things have to happen to cause the characters to question who they are and what their place in the world is and what the meaning of it all is … To go through the dark nights of the soul in times of fear and terror … If you have real characters grappling with real problems, then you have power. Jaime losing a hand, the very thing that he defined himself on, is crucial to where I want go with the character. He questions: "What do you make of yourself once you lost that?" & “I don’t believe in karma […] I do believe in the possibility of redemption.” & “When we forgive them we are essentially forgiving ourselves. Redemption should be possible.”
There is no golden hand in the final AFfC dream. There is only the ugliness of the stump. He thinks he is (negatively), and thinks he wants to be (positively) certain “figures”. The latter is rooted in constructs he is already disillusioned by deep down. “False as fool’s gold.” So many distorted mirrors. But there are no men like Jaime. There is only Jaime and his choices. So where will he go now? How will that emptiness be filled now, once he “stared at the ugliness of the stump?”
“I don't know the answer, but these are questions worth thinking about. I want there to be a possibility of redemption for us, because we all do terrible things. We should be able to be forgiven. Because if there is no possibility of redemption, what's the answer then?”
oh jaime u insane silly little man i love reading what is going on inside your insane head sfm ugh
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agirlking · 1 year
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“Of course Nat died it’s a tragedy.” “Of course Nat’s death was unsatisfying, it’s a tragedy.” Nope!
A well written tragedy will not always result in death. A well written tragedy will have a sensible arc from beginning to end. A well written tragedy will not leave you unsatisfied.
Barry is a tragedy (I just wanted to be safe), I loved Hank, I was not unsatisfied with his death. His own choices and refusal to be honest led him down the only road he could go down. Bly Manor is a tragedy (a love story and a ghost story are the same thing), it’s a metaphor for dementia and inevitably it resulted in Dani’s death. Red Dead Redemption 2 is a tragedy (eventually we all have to pay for our sins) and I sat down and cried for several minutes after Arthur died, but I was nothing if not totally satisfied with the end result, I wouldn’t change it if I could.
Each of these had amazing writing and build up and you perfectly understood that there was only one way for them to end, and it was satisfying to watch it happen, even if it was sad, even if it was in some ways upsetting, you knew it had to end this way and it satisfied you.
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alphashley14 · 1 year
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One of Us
A Scooby Doo: Mystery Incorporated/Mystery Skulls Crossover
<Prev Next>
Chapter 21
Pay For My Sins
What happened? 
Ah, yes. He was in Shaggy’s body. And that was probably freaking her out just as much as her being alive was freaking him out. 
Where was he even supposed to begin answering that question? Ricky was still working out ‘what happened’ for himself. And he didn’t even know where to start with what he did know. With waking up in Shaggy’s body? No - he needed to tell her about the sitting room. And to tell her about that he needed to tell her about Nova and the Annunaki. But wait - Nova had wound up in a coma after Cassidy left. So he’d need to tell her about the Horrible Herd… and about the fact that he’d nearly helped Pericles destroy Crystal Cove. 
Uggghhhh there was too much… he didn’t want to talk about this. What he really wanted to know was, “How are you alive?” He croaked.
“You first,” Cassidy bumped the floor back to him.
“Well I don’t even know where to begin. You- *sniff* You died, Cassidy. You were dead. Velma told me how it happened. There was no way out of there, and yet you found one. So how?” 
“Well I don’t know either and what I do know is a long story,” Cassidy retorted, once again bouncing the demand for an explanation back at him like a game of ping-pong. 
“Try me,” Ricky dared, bouncing it back a little too aggressively. 
“You- just- please Ricky,” She pleaded, raising their joined fingers to hold his hand with both of hers. “At least tell me why you look… not like yourself.” 
Ricky swallowed down the butterflies dancing in his stomach and sighed. She’d been back from the dead for all of what? Fifteen minutes? And already they were… fuck, he didn’t want to argue with her. And she was right, really. Her being alive was unlikely. His current state was- should be impossible. 
“I’ve been… body-swapped,” Ricky admitted. “With Shaggy and Arthur.” 
Cassidy was so surprised she dropped his hand. “Shaggy… and Arthur?” 
Ricky shook his head incredulously. “Yep,” he half-laughed, popping the p. He’d kind of gotten used to it, but explaining it out loud to someone really put the ridiculousness in perspective all over again. “I’m in Shaggy’s body, Shaggy is in Arthur’s, and Arthur is in mine.” 
“Arthur was with the kids just now,” Cassidy said, thinking out loud. “So you mean to tell me that was-” 
“That was Shaggy, yes.” 
“Ohhh I was wondering what he was doing, and why he was wearing- where did you get this?” Cassidy asked, looking at his yellow and white striped shirt and lightly poking his jacket. 
“Daphne,” Ricky replied, as if that explained everything. 
“Ah,” Cassidy said, because that did explain everything. 
“We kept getting called by the wrong names,” Ricky shrugged. “The shirts-” He cleared his throat, trying to remedy the hoarseness from all the crying. “-The shirts remind everyone who’s who.” 
“Uh-huh… I can uh… see how that would be confusing but just- how did this even happen???” 
“That is… a perfectly reasonable question,” Ricky said perfectly evenly, pointing at her with a shaking finger. “And I’ll tell ya,” he laughed in spite of himself, “I just need you to keep in mind here… that I am completely serious about everything I am about to tell you. And it’s gonna sound insane. I’m gonna sound insane. Just know that I am not fucking with you.” 
“Baby. I survived killer robots and an exploding underwater lab, only to almost immediately meet a kitsune, a ghost, a girl with a magic ice bat, and a kid with a metal arm. Try me.” 
Ricky sighed and nervously rubbed the back of his neck. “I… guess it all started-” But Ricky was cut off mid-sentence by his own stomach growling. 
Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuuuck! Not now! But his stomach growled again. Louder. Angrier. Hungrier. It was just like yesterday morning. In all the excitement, Ricky hadn’t realized just how hungry he was. It felt like his stomach was trying to eat itself. Was it like this for Shaggy every morning? Once again, his stomach snarled in ‘how-dare-you-go-this-long-without-food’. And Cassidy looked at his stomach like, ‘oh my God was that you?’ And his blood rushed to his face in ‘why-are-you-like-this?’ and his brain thought to itself: ‘can we just self-destruct on the spot please? Thank youuuu…’
“Uh… Shaggy’s body- comes with its challenges,” Ricky tried to laugh it off. 
But that was when Cassidy’s stomach growled. “I uh… haven’t eaten since the meal they gave us on the plane.” 
Ricky snorted. Cassidy giggled. And then they were laughing together in a way that they hadn’t since they were teenagers. Ricky doubled over, and Cassidy leaned back and clapped her hands. 
“This- haha- this is ridiculous!” Ricky cried between his laughter. 
“We’re ridiculous,” Cassidy agreed. 
That only made Ricky laugh harder until before he knew it, his guffaws gave way into sobs and- 
He was crying again. 
Why the fuck are you crying again?! 
And of course, Cassidy noticed.
“It- It really is you,” Ricky gasped, wiping his eyes. “I’m sorry- I don’t know- *sniff* I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Just- I’m sorry.”
“Ricky… it’s fine.” Cassidy put a hand on his shoulder, but he jerked away. He didn’t deserve it. 
“It’s not fine, Cassidy! Wait- sorry. I- I didn’t mean to snap. That came out wrong. I just meant… that’s not what I meant. Sorry…” Ricky put his head between his knees, his fingers in his hair, and forced himself to take deep breaths. 
You’re being ridiculous. You can’t talk when you’re hysterical like this. It’s stupid that you’re even crying. You’re a grown man, dammmit! Well- okay maybe not at this exact moment but on the inside you are what the fuck is wrong with you get a grip- 
Cassidy was touching him. Her hand was on his back, rubbing circles. 
He didn’t pull away this time. 
༻˚⁺・⚉。○✼༓☾⦾♫෴♡💛♡෴♫⦾☽༓✼○。⚉・⁺˚༺
Another song had begun to play quietly from the dark recesses of the manor, harsh echoing beats of the keyboard like static with clashing crescendoing notes was the perfect accompaniment to the unease twisting her guts into knots.
What happened to you? 
The question stirring in Cassidy’s mind had made its way into her very bones. It was like there was a shaken soda can in her chest, the pressure building, expanding, steadily making its way towards that inevitable explosion. 
But she held it in. She watched. She listened. Because that was the only power she had right now. 
He jerked away at first, but Cassidy could tell - because she knew him, she knew him better than she had ever known anyone besides herself - that there wasn’t any anger behind it anymore. He was hurting, and he was scared, but this time he was trying not to push her away.
“Ba-by, I’ve been tryin’ to make shit right… For eeevry-one I’ve ever lied to…”
His snarky mask was the only way Mr. E knew how to deal with his pain. But Ricky Owens - Ricky used to talk to her. And maybe it was because he was technically seventeen again, but right now… 
Right now he didn’t look much like Mr. E at all. 
“With Mom and Dad, it was all fights…  But in the end it’s family that we are tied to…”
She waited for him to settle a little. Then she put her hand on his back. 
He jumped. But he didn’t pull away this time. 
“Lately I’ve been thinkin’ I’ve been too far gone, uh
“See, I’ve been tryin’ to pay for my sins. But they won’t take my money, baby…”
“Oh, I’ve been tryna pay for my sins!  Mh, but they won’t take my money, baby, oooh~”
Ricky finally sat up and licked his lips, but he didn’t look at her. “What I… what I was trying to say was…” 
“Oh, I’ve been tryna pay for my sins!  Mh, but they won’t take my money, baby, oooh~”
He swallowed and sniffed, then briefly wiped his nose with his sleeve. “What I um- what I said before… I’m sorry for exploding all over you like that. But uh… what I said. I know it didn’t come out right but… I need you to know. I meant every word.” 
Then he looked at her… suddenly she could hardly hear the music at all. Puffy eyed. Flushed. Tear stained. Broken, yet still going. The way he looked at her… she could see his very soul bared to her on that face. Every crack, scar, and open wound. Burdens as heavy as the sky itself. 
Most of them, Cassidy knew. 
Some of them, she carried too. 
But others… others were new. 
She asked herself again: What happened to you? 
“Cassidy I am so sorry,” Ricky said hoarsely, “For all of it. You were right about everything.” And the way he said it- the way he looked at her… as if he’d never meant anything more in his entire life. 
“Just give it a chance. Just give me a chance. Just give me a chance.”
“I was- I was wrong, and I should have listened to you. I- I don’t know what happened. It all went from protecting the kids to fighting Pericles, and then suddenly it became about the treasure. Mystery uh… The Mystery Skulls keep telling me I’m cursed. Or that I- that I was cursed. But… I don’t think that’s an excuse. I was selfish. And stupid. So, so fucking stupid. And because of me, people got hurt. You got hurt. I… Hurt you…” 
He trailed off, but she could see the horror written on his face. 
One of his burdens gained a name.
Ricky shook his head and cleared his throat. “And there’s… there’s only one thing I said earlier that I’ll take back. And that’s when I asked you how you could ever forgive me. Okay? Don’t-... Don’t forgive me… Just don’t. Because I don’t deserve it. And I’m never going to forgive myself.”
Cassidy was so stunned that at first she didn’t say anything. 
He apologized. He apologized! There was a time not so long ago when Cassidy thought she would never see the day. 
‘Don’t forgive me. I don’t deserve it. And I’m never going to forgive myself.’
The latter, she believed. 
But that face- ‘Don’t forgive me.’ His mouth said one thing but his eyes said something else. She could see guilt - but also that selfish wish we all have, for another chance. 
Maybe he didn’t deserve it. And Cassidy was still angry with him. One apology, no matter how sincere, wasn’t enough to change that. So for now at least, she did not forgive him.
But if he kept up whatever this was… then maybe one day she would. 
“Then I won’t.” And the way he deflated when she said it struck her right in the heart. But she wasn’t done yet. Once more, she took his hand in hers. “-But you’ve been one of the most important people in my life for over twenty years. I lost you for long enough - or maybe you lost yourself. Either way, I’m moving forward.” She lightly squeezed his hand. “-And this time I’m taking you with me.”
Ricky let out a choked, strangled noise and looked away, fast blinking before his emotions spilled out again. 
Finally, not meeting her eyes he croaked, “... Why?”
Cassidy took a while to answer that. Finally, she replied. “There was this kid I knew once. But someone hurt him, and he lost… everything. And the person he became as a result was very different from the boy I loved.” 
Ricky gulped. “... And what happened to that boy you knew?” 
“The rest of the world forgot about him, as if the man he became just appeared from thin air one day. But I never forgot about him. And as different as he was… he was still important to me. That’s why I stayed. Even though he was… lost. And made some pretty dumbass decisions. But I had hope that he’d get his shit together. And now that I think he has…” Cassidy trailed off, unblinking, staring pointedly at Ricky. “He doesn’t exactly look the same as I remember right now… but I’d know him anywhere."
“... I think he’s gone Cassidy,” Ricky whispered.
“I don’t think that’s true,” Cassidy disagreed firmly. “You look more like the real Ricky Owens right now than you have in over a decade, Ricky. Twenty years, and you finally get your shit together? I know what you’ve done… But I did not just get you back, only to shove you away.” 
“Maybe you should.” 
“Maybe I know that. And maybe don’t give a fuck.”
Ricky looked away sharply. They didn’t say anything for a few seconds. Then he whispered, “I thought I killed you…” 
Again, Cassidy had to take a minute before she knew what to say to that. 
“... Mystery told me that you had nothing to do with it… Is that true? Did you really not know?” 
Ricky shook his head, and his voice cracked. “No… And I swear I never would’ve let him if I knew. I’d’ve thrown him out… and he knew that.” Ricky’s voice hardened with rage as he gripped the edge of the step upon which he sat hard enough to turn his knuckles white. “He had to have fucking known that, because if he didn’t he wouldn’t have kept it from me!” Ricky started to shout, but he took a deep breath and checked his tone. 
“Cassidy,” he began again, “I swear. On. My. Mother’s. Grave. I didn’t know. About the robots or the fact that he was using them to attack you. Hell - I bet that’s why he used the damn robots. They weren’t Destroido assets, so there wouldn’t’ve been any way for me to find out what he was doing with them until he barged into my company with them!” 
Again, Ricky checked his tone. “-Sorry… the more I think about it, the angrier I get. But still… none of that changes the fact that your death… it would’ve been on me, Cassidy. You almost died. Because of me. And I’m going to have to live with that… for the rest of my days.” 
“Then explain it to me,” Cassidy said. “If you didn’t know, then tell me how it was your fault.” 
“I gave him the tools,” Ricky sighed. “He never would’ve had the resources to do what he did if it weren’t for me. The factory wasn’t mine and he did it behind my back, but he would’ve needed to use my assets to get it up and running again. Money, equipment, a submarine so that he could get down there to begin with… And secondly…” 
His whole body tensed. “-Because he said something needed to be done about you,” And he refused, refused to look at her when he confessed this sin. “... And I agreed with him."
"I don’t know what the wool over my eyes was made of. Was I so hopeful that I had my friend back? Did I just want so badly to think the best of him? Was I delusional? Stupid? Cursed? I don’t know! But I swear Cassidy, I swear on everything I hold dear. Somehow, it never even crossed my mind that- that he’d…” 
Ricky took a shuddering breath and swallowed before he continued. “I thought we were going to convince you to join us. Maybe threaten you. Convince you to leave town. And I know- I know how awful that sounds. It was awful. I’m awful. But at the time- at the time it seemed like what was best for everyone. But then he never said anything to me about it again, and eventually I noticed that it had been a while since I’d heard from you… then that you’d never gone so long without contacting me. And I- I was terrified, Cassidy. But for some reason I still told myself that you weren’t dead. That you couldn’t be dead. Because you’re… you’re…” 
“... I’m what?” Cassidy demanded coldly. 
Ricky’s face burned red with shame and as livid as she was, Cassidy couldn’t help but be reminded distinctly of how cute he’d once been - the way his whole face blushed when he was young. He looked away when he answered her. 
“... Because you’re the most powerful person I’ve ever known.” 
God. Fucking. Dammit. 
I’m angry. So fucking angry. Be angry with him, dammit! 
But fuck, he was making that difficult. Anything Cassidy had been bracing herself for, it wasn’t this. And he was still adding icing to the damn cake. 
“I took you for granted Cassidy,” he sighed. “When we uh… before we broke up, I was… I was such a jerk to you. And still, when I asked you to, you uprooted the life you’d built and you came back here for me. I never properly thanked you for that. And I never told you… how much respect I really have for you. Because you really are… the most incredible person I’ve ever met. And I’m sorry, because I guess that I sort of had you on a pedestal. So it didn’t occur to me that you were just as human as I was and that you could-” His voice hitched- “That what I was doing could get you killed… and I know ‘sorry’ is just an empty word… but I am so, so sorry for that, Cassidy…” 
STOP MAKING IT SO HARD TO BE MAD AT YOU!
Cassidy was just… stunned. It was such a drastic, drastic change from the man she’d left in the woods months ago. Once again, a question came to mind. And this time, she whispered it aloud. 
“... What happened to you?” 
He processed the question, and his face transformed. The sadness, the regret, the guilt all at once became deep shame and fear. Fear the likes of which she had only seen on his face a handful of times, even with how long she’d known him and all that they’d been through together. She could almost see the words forming on his tongue, but his lips just wouldn’t move. 
He wants to tell me, she realized. But he’s terrified to. 
༻˚⁺・⚉。○✼༓☾⦾♫෴♡💛♡෴♫⦾☽༓✼○。⚉・⁺˚༺
What happened to you? 
Had he really been so changed that his scars were so easily visible to her eyes?
At once, Ricky’s whole body tightened as if he expected mutant venom to start coursing through his veins at any moment. Horrible images flashed before Ricky’s eyes, ghosts of cruel words echoing in his ears. 
“Oh Ricky, Ricky…” “-an idiotic human mascot!” “-Anyone who crosses me gets-” “You are in charge of nothing!” “eliminated.” “-A shoulder for me to perch upon!” “You do. As I say.” 
‘Tell her…’ A putrid, pitiful, desperate part of him begged. ‘Just tell her!... Please…’ 
And he wanted to. God, he wanted to… 
But how could he? 
“Perhaps… after breakfast, yes?” 
Both of them jumped and turned around to see Mystery sitting on the steps above them. 
Suddenly Ricky was back in the here and now. That frightened part of him went back into the box from whence it came and anger welled up instead. 
“Youuuuu…” 
“Good morning Ricky,” the kitsune said pleasantly with a flick of his tails.
“YOU COULD’VE TOLD ME SHE WASN’T DEAD MYSTERY!” Ricky shouted! 
“You’re right. I could have,” Mystery replied calmly. 
“SHE’S BEEN ALIVE THIS WHOLE TIME?! YOU KNEW THAT! AND I- YOU KNOW WHAT I WENT THROUGH! YOU WERE THERE!!!!” 
“I was,” Mystery replied, his pleasant tone unchanging. 
“YOU SHOULD HAVE FUCKING TOLD ME!” 
“You’re right. I should have.” 
“A FUCKING WARNING AT LEAST! What’s the use of having telepathy- WHYDIDN’TYOUWARNME?!”  
“Because I was a coward.” 
It was said with such ease and sincerity that it threw Ricky right out of shouting mode. “YOU- what?”
“I was a coward,” the kitsune shrugged with a sad smile. “And you’re right. I should have told you. In fact that was my intent. But I knew it would hurt you, and I was afraid. So in the end… For all my talk of lessening the shock for you, I let you see it for yourself. I shouldn’t have done that, Ricky. I’m sorry.” 
Ricky blinked at him. Raised an indignant finger. Opened his mouth with a deep inhale as if he wanted to yell… then let it out, defeated. “There were literally dozens of opportunities yesterday for you to have told me, Mystery. For any of you to have told me! So why didn’t you?” 
“Because we were worried about Arthur,” the kitsune answered honestly. “At least at first, that was the answer. We believed disclosing the fact that Cassidy was alive would hinder any efforts to rescue Arthur. But even after it became clear that no ‘rescue’ would be taking place, we knew we needed to come clean about our…” Mystery gave them a look and used a paw to gesture to himself and the very haunted mansion. “And if we told you about all of that and that Cassidy was alive, combined with everything else that happened yesterday, we believed it would have been too much for you. The plan really was to tell you about it this morning over breakfast. Cassidy wasn’t expected to arrive for almost another two hours.” 
“Dog. Do not put that on me. Vivi made it sound like-” But Cassidy glanced at Ricky and nervously cleared her throat. “-She said it was urgent. So I took shortcuts. No breaks… may have taken the speed limit as a suggestion.” 
“I wasn’t, as you say, ‘putting it on you’,” the kitsune sighed. “You’re both right. We should have planned for this. But we did not, and the result was a rather nasty shock. Vivi and Lewis will apologize personally as well, but at the moment they are in the kitchen with the kids, making breakfast. When you’re ready, I’d like very much for you to join us.” 
Ricky was staring at Mystery, dumbfounded. “... What’s the catch?” he asked suspiciously. 
“No catch,” Mystery said pleasantly. “I made a mistake. An apology is the least you deserve.” 
“So… that’s it? You’re just… you were wrong?” 
“I was wrong,” Mystery confirmed. 
“And you’re just going to admit it and apologize just like that?” 
“Just like that,” he nodded. 
Ricky could scarcely believe it. Where was the digging in? The dismissal? The gaslighting? To just… receive a genuine apology like this so easily was… weird. 
Dammit. Mystery had proven himself over and over again, and yet here Ricky was, once again comparing him to Pericles. 
And clearly Mystery realized this, not that he took it to heart. But, he couldn’t resist the opportunity to insert a jab at the parrot. He tilted his head and asked passive-aggressively, “What kind of egotistical, feather-brained cockalorum would do otherwise?”
“Shaddup! I’m not used to this!”
Mystery just laughed, tails wagging. And that’s the moment Ricky’s stomach decided to roar in protest once again. 
Uuuuugh… bury me… Ricky pulled his hood over his head with embarrassment and tugged on the strings to close it. 
“Breakfast?” Mystery chuckled. 
“Yez please…” Ricky grumbled, muffled through his jacket.
The kitsune laughed again and affectionately nuzzled him on the top of the head with his nose. “Come,” he said, stepping over Ricky and Cassidy to lead the way down the stairs. And Cassidy’s eyes followed him in utter amazement, hardly believing the interaction she’d just witnessed. But Mystery’s voice snapped her out of her daze. 
“We’re in for a treat. Lewis is making crepes in honor of your return Cassidy, he began making preparations early this morning. The Peppers run a restaurant as you know, and the crepes are positively delectable. Lewis hasn’t told me what kind he’s making though. The nutella filling with banana is divine, but a bit too much sugar for my taste. Then there’s the more pleasant tang of lemon and blueberry, or the subtle sweetness of vanilla and strawberry. My personal favorite is chicken, spinach, and basil sprinkled with cheese, but then again I am primarily a carnivore by nature so it is sensible that my palette would lean more on the savory side. Then there’s when he substitutes chicken for steak…” 
Smiling, Cassidy made eye contact with Ricky over Mystery’s tails as they followed him, and Ricky snorted when she shook her head and rolled her eyes fondly at the kitsune’s ramblings. 
Crepes really weren’t what was important right now, but Mystery seemed to have a mysterious way of knowing exactly what to say to make his friends feel better. The talk of food was entirely irrelevant to the issues at hand, and if anything it was just making Ricky hungrier. But the kitsune seemed so nonchalant, his rambling so utterly domestic, that as uncertain as what lay ahead was… 
He truly made it seem as if everything was going to be okay.
༻˚⁺・⚉。○✼༓☾⦾♫෴♡💛♡෴♫⦾☽༓✼○。⚉・⁺˚༺
Vivi and Lewis were waiting for them outside the kitchen area, and Cassidy went inside while Ricky stood, arms crossed, and waited for the inevitable apology. 
They didn’t say anything for a couple of moments, the Mystery Skulls at a loss at how to begin, before Ricky grew bored of their squirming, pursed his lips, and said, “So. She’s alive.” 
Both of them gulped. “Yeah. Yeah, she is.” Lewis said. 
Vivi cringed, “We really did want to tell you-” 
“Save it,” Ricky interrupted her. “Mystery already told me why you didn’t tell me. And I…” Ricky groaned, frustrated, and ran his fingers through his hair. “I get why you did it. And it makes- sense. But dammit the more I think about it the more opportunities I think of for you to have told me, and the madder I get at you!” 
“Which is totally valid-” 
“And you’re just- accepting that you messed up, and owning up to it, and it’s weird!” 
Vivi and Lewis gave him a look. “Dude. Do the people around you usually… not?”
Ricky opened and closed his mouth, realizing there was nothing he could say without giving away yet another thing to make the Mystery Skulls feel sorry for him. So he just growled, frustrated, and marched into the kitchen. 
As mad as he was at the Mystery Skulls, his brain compartmentalized his anger the second he walked into the kitchen. 
Wow, am I happy to not be Cassidy right now. 
No one was eating yet, as Lewis still wasn’t quite done with breakfast. But Ricky didn’t think they’d be eating even if the food was ready. Nope. Fred, Daphne, Velma, Shaggy, and Scooby were doing the very same thing he’d been doing to Vivi and Lewis a moment ago: wordlessly glaring as both parties silently battled over who would talk first, and what would be said when they did. 
Ricky knew the feeling. He’d been in that very same position this time yesterday, when he’d awoken in Shaggy’s body. And now, it was Cassidy’s turn. 
The difference was that while they’d looked at him with confusion, anger, distrust, and dislike, the kids looked at Angel… hurt. Confused. Needing an explanation before they could move forward. 
And honestly, Ricky felt the same way to an extent. She was alive. It was a miracle, almost too good to be true. But there was an explanation for everything, rational or supernatural. Whatever had happened, to allow her to remain alive on the same Earth as him, he was grateful for it. 
And yet, he still needed to know: how?
As Ricky nervously approached, Cassidy was seated at the head of the table, and he got the impression that the kids had put her there based on the way they were sitting around her. Save one empty seat right beside her, which Daphne pulled out for him when he got close enough. 
Oh dear, they’ve put me right at the heart of it, Ricky realized with a gulp, sitting down in the seat they’d saved for him. Ricky tried to appear small as the tension in the room mounted. He felt his stomach twinge. Please do not growl right now, he begged himself quietly.
Angel started to say, “Babies-” 
“How are you alive?!” Velma demanded loudly.
Ricky jumped and suddenly didn’t feel quite as hungry.
“Yeah. Like, what gives? Like I thought you weren’t gonna lie to us anymore!” Shaggy said, hurt. 
“Hold on guys, give her a chance to explain herself,” Vivi said, sitting at the table next to Mystery, who had turned back into a dog for the sake of fitting at the table.
“You have no room to talk!” Fred snapped. “You knew about this, too! You’ve known since before you came to Crystal Cove! Why should we listen to you when you’ve been lying to us since the beginning?” 
“I don’t know. Maybe because the town is cursed and we’d literally just met you,” Vivi said pointedly. “It wasn't safe yet for Cassidy to come back into the fold. We couldn’t risk telling anyone until we were formally working together and had some trust built between us.” 
“Fine. That I can understand,” Daphne sighed. “But Cassidy… we cried for you. We’d just started trusting you again. You couldn’t have sent us a message? Something to let us know you were okay? How could you do this?” 
“I know, I know. Believe me, I had meant to never lie to you again. But then… you don’t understand-” 
“Then make us understand.” Velma demanded. 
Cassidy sighed, and began to tell her story.
Another short-ish chapter, but Chapter 22 is already well in the works and I've been working on something else as well that I really wanted to have done before I posted 21, but I'm at an art block rn and didn't want to make ya'all wait. I know a lot of you probably wanted to find out how Cassidy survived in this chapter, or for Cassidy to be caught up on a certain thing... but I thought that they needed to clear the air on some other things first. And the heartfelt reunion part 2/apology turned out a bit longer than I expected. So here we are. The next chapter tho, I will tell you, is dedicated entirely to how Cassidy survived and met the Mystery Skulls. It's going to answer a lot of questions, for sure... but will it raise even more? 😈 And uuuugh - again I need to write an entire post about why I picked this song for this chapter, but I just haven't! I haven't for 'God' yet either, but I really need to! Anyway - I hope you loved this chapter as much as I liked writing it!!! 😄
Chapters 1-20 of ‘One of Us’ are presently posted on Archive of Our Own!
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softrozene · 1 year
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“Please Look at Me.” - Charles Smith
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From an old event I did called the Sad Yee Haw Hours:
Slimeballll asked: HEY BISH 💕 can I please request 17 “please look at me” with Charles 🥰 gimme allll the angst 😩😘 
rdr2 masterlist 
You know how I said my prior Charles request hurt? This one slapped me across the face and ripped my heart out. I think this is hurt Charles hours. :’) Enjoy babes! I hope you got tissues! 
Originally published on June 17, 2020 
Charles Smith x Reader (Gender-Neutral/Non-Binary)
Scenario Starter Number 17: “Please look at me.”
Warnings: Sinning once more for hurting this man : (, angst, reader and Charles have been a couple years before joining the Van Der Linde gang au, Mentions of cheating (Arthur with Reader), oops
Words: 837
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“Please look at me.”
Your voice is shaking as the guilt eats you up whole. You have never witnessed this man ever cry until now. In all your years of being together, you have never seen him break down like this. You didn’t expect this at all. You had thought he was losing feelings for you so of course, you started to distance yourself.
Why wouldn’t you? You didn’t want to stay with someone who no longer looks at you with love and care. Sure, he has his moments but he’s been detached and stressed from moving from Colter to Horseshoe Overlook. It’s been a stressful few months, you should have given him the benefit of a doubt, but you didn’t.
Instead, you made a mistake and now you’re paying the price for it.
You go to beg him again, ignoring the obvious eavesdroppers in the group, but he finally looks at you. His eyes are misty, filled with hurt, distrust, and it nearly kills you right there and then. He lets out a sigh as his hand goes to fix his hair.
“I don’t want to look at you. Looking at you right now fills me with disgust,” He states honestly.
Seeing your eyes water at this makes him look away. You reach for his free hand and he freezes at your touch. He never freezes with your touch, he always leans into it. You fucked up.
“It was just one night. It was a stupid mistake, it’ll never happen agai-“
He cuts you off with a glare. He takes a moment to control his anger and speaks as calmly as he can. “A mistake? You were supposed to be back within an hour or so. You deliberately stayed the night in the middle of nowhere with him. He admitted you seduced him. What you did was not a mistake but a choice,” Charles states his eyes growing cold.
“Charles I love you. I never meant to hurt you. I had too many dri-“
He cuts you off again. This time the anger and disappointment rising as he tries desperately to keep his cool. “I would’ve believed your tale if Arthur hadn’t come clean first. It’s sad that my friend did this to me but he came clean and ratted you out. You had no intentions to tell me what you did. He told me drinks were involved after his camp was set-up. You knew your intentions the second you decided not to come home straight to me,” He says.
When you can’t say anything to defend yourself he scoffs and continues. “Not even that. Did you really think I wouldn’t notice the looks you gave Arthur at Colter leading up to here? It’s the same look I always gave you and that you used to give me. I can only assume that you started to take an interest in him and acted on it. That’s the only way that Arthur would have hurt me like that but for you to hurt me like this? It’s like I don’t even know you anymore.”
You feel sick. You feel so sick and disgusted with yourself. It’s like your gut keeps twisting into knots. You hate what you did now that you see the aftermath. It wasn’t worth hurting Charles like this. It wasn’t worth feeling a different person’s touch because you thought Charles and you were slowly losing love. It was your fault and now you don’t know if there is a way to salvage it. Especially, with the way he is looking and speaking to you.
“You threw away all of our years together…” He says seeming to no longer have any anger in him, just disappointment.
Your eyes widen and bring up the hand you are desperately holding onto and make it cup your cheek. You plea with him. “Charles, look at me. I’m still your partner. I’m still the person you love.”
He shakes his head and pulls away. The sting in your heart is growing and you can’t fix it. This is unfixable.
He confirms this. “You threw away all of our years together. I wanted to live the rest of my life with you but not anymore. I thought I can work past this before confronting you but I can’t. I just don’t get how you can do that to a person, make them feel as if they are nothing and then expect nothing to change. By the end of the week either I’m leaving this group or you are.”
Before you can beg him more or he can spare you another glance he turns to leave needing to be alone. You watch him stalk off until you gather yourself and take a look around. The eavesdroppers in the group are glaring at you and you already know that it is you who is leaving this group.
You are going to leave the one man who was your peace all because you fucked up and hurt him. Maybe you deserve the lone path.
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