#the thing is i believe arthur cares deeply for the people around him every single one of them and i also do believe he shares a deeper bond

[arcanespillo]

hang on i must know your fave merlin ship this is of great importance

(absolutely no judgement btw i ship Everything)

this is funny because i do really believe in every ship ever, my fav is gwen x arthur x merlin i think they should live together in a cottage in the woods and be happy forever. and i think every ship that includes merlin is valid and real (merlin x lancelot, merlin x gawaine, arthur x merlin and so on) and i love, love love love morgana and gwen, a bit less in later seasons

[brujahinaskirt]

You know, when it really comes down to it, the main thing that tears me to pieces about Arthur & John is encapsulated so nicely in the trope of the Lonesome Cowboy.

RDR2's storytelling is particularly masterful as it shows us that everyone is the mythic Lonesome Cowboy... but at the same time, I believe it manages to quietly suggest there is one true Lonesome Cowboy of the series.

And it ain't Arthur Morgan.

DEEPLY overwritten explanation below!

On the surface, Arthur is clearly set up by RDR2 to be our Lonesome Cowboy. He even sings the song. But is he really? Really, truly? Or is Arthur's brand of lonesomeness a clever model to help us, through comparison and contrast, begin to notice and understand another, deeper type of loneliness?

Arthur thinks he's unlovable and alone because he lacks one specific type of love, romantic domesticity, which he has dreamed throughout his life and consistently been denied. But though his pain is genuine, the idea that Arthur is alone and unloved is almost laughable. R* shows us every single game day that Arthur is surrounded by people who love him, live with him, and depend upon him.

But that's the great irony of the RDR Lonesome Cowboy, right? Arthur feels lonely and believes he is alone because he is a "bad man" and nonbeliever whom "no one will have" (not even God, and he remains true to his atheism through the bitter end [and thank god for that honestly because the last thing I needed was a Come to Jesus cowboy game...]).

But the inverse is true, and his depression is lying to him; Arthur is almost never alone and pretty much everyone in his family unit actively enjoys his company and wants him around. And yes, many of these people are damaged and have trouble communicating that (though fewer than you'd think). And no, it isn't the same as getting married to one person and raising a family with them for the rest of your life. But lonesome? As in, emotionally and/or physically alone?

Nah! Come on, man! Not even close.

Arthur is more than just loved and needed: he's actually understood by those he chooses to let in, because Arthur is definitely capable of telling his closest confidants how he feels and what is lurking in his heart. We see him do this many times. Sometimes with surprising ease and honesty.

When Arthur is physically alone in RDR2, he's wandering at the player's command, and if he wanders for too long, he's eventually retrieved & lambasted by the people at camp who quite openly/forcefully tell him they missed him and worried about him. Even Low Honor Arthur is a popular man at camp, in his own way, the support beam of his strange family (though LH Arthur is more likely to selectively deny that support, or to provide that support with the caveat of verbal cruelty).

A messy run-down of some obvious examples to illustrate my point:

Despite Dutch's deterioration and manipulations, Dutch and Hosea openly dote on him and relish telling embarrassing family stories about their Big Man Old Guard son to each other. Hosea especially frets about and tries to care for Arthur, mostly physically but sometimes emotionally as well. Susan can be abrasive at best, but she also clearly favors Arthur, thinks often about his well-being, and is one of the primary worriers when he's away from camp for too long.

Abigail and Jack completely rely on Arthur for a significant period of their lives, and though Abigail struggles greatly with showing affection & vulnerability, I would argue her primary and most extraordinary mode of care and affection for Arthur is allowing him to help her raise her son. Sure, she needs the help... but Arthur needs the nuclear family experience of being heavily relied on, too, and Abigail makes it clear she understands that about him better than anybody else. (I'd go on to argue that being relied on in a family way is essential for Arthur's self-esteem and is how he can continue to function despite the massive clash between his true nature and his violent lifestyle, for which he constantly berates himself. But that's neither here nor there...)

The Girls (Tilly, Mary-Beth, Karen) actively worry about his mental health and invite him to share his burdens with them, comfort him (each in their own unique way), play games, dance, etc. They do this for Arthur we don't see them do for anyone else in camp (apart from each other, which leads me to believe Arthur is sort of an honorary member of The Girls, though I won't get too much into that here).

Sadie: "Aside from my [BELOVED HUSBAND AND SOUL MATE] Jake, you're the best man I've known."

Though Arthur seems more likely to trust & befriend women/non-masc men, he has masc men friends & confidants too, and most of the men at camp seem to rank Arthur as somehow more reliable than other members. Charles very obviously loves Arthur & vice versa to the point where I tried to pick one demonstrative example and couldn't figure out where to begin. Uncle is a pain in Arthur's ass, but when shit hits the fan, he knows (and tells him) that Arthur is the best man of them all. Lenny, while young, enjoys Arthur's company (though I would argue Arthur feels more strongly about Lenny than the inverse due to Arthur's tendency to protectively fuss over young people). Hell, Sean constantly tells Arthur, word for word, "I love ya, Arthur Morgan!!! I really do!!! I love ya!!!!" He's being goofy, but he's not joking! He said that!

And that's just a surface-level sampling of gang members. These threads run much, much deeper and we could spend essays analyzing each one, but my god this has gone on too long already.

One could argue that Arthur's story aloneness is at the moment of his death, but I can't quite agree. With Save John + High Honor Arthur path especially, I would argue Arthur has never been less emotionally (even spiritually) alone than when he chose to change the very nature of his death from a random consequence of his hard life to an act of love that gives his surviving core family (John, Abigail, Jack) a chance at happiness. In less peaceful endgame scenarios, Arthur might not actually die alone, or even have time to linger on his approaching departure from the world.

So I posit that Arthur is not, was never the Lonesome Cowboy. Arthur is loved as much as he loves others.

I posit that the true Lonesome Cowboy of RDR is John.

John Marston, who on the surface has everything Arthur ever wanted... but who, due to the nature of his heart and what he's seen, cannot bring himself to fully open up in a way that enables him to be truly understood and embraced by anyone, not even the person he comes to love most in the world (Abigail). There's a reason the epilogue feels so shocking and lonely, and while I do think Rockstar could have done a better job on the transitional cinematics from playing as Arthur to playing as John, that crushing loneliness and sense of discomfort and incompleteness is vital.

It feels awful. It feels like we just lost a limb and were thrown back into everyday life with no fanfare, no true honorable sendoff, no closure, no greater understanding of the world, no peace or contentment. And it feels that way because that discordant, jarring dis-allowance of grief is the ONLY mechanism that helps us feel how John must feel now. Because unlike Arthur, John cannot express or unfold or understand his own pain and loneliness. Not to us, the player, and not even to himself. He never grieves.

Of course, when Sadie and Micah drift back into his life, John snaps. He's never grieved! He's been emotionally alone through all of that, even when he has his family and friends, because he can't open up and let them in! He risks destroying his family in a way that would have undoubtedly caused Arthur extreme horror and anger because John's family is not and has never been a cure for John's loneliness, even though John truly loves them more than anything at the end.

John can't express it, so it's these lyrics themselves that serve as the fount of his grief: I ain't got no brother. No wonder Abigail has her own quiet epilogue rendition of this song (and she, too, is a profoundly Lonesome Cowboy in her way, just like Karen, Hosea, Javier, Jack, etc....). Once Arthur is gone from the world, so too is the only person who knew this deeply damaged kid well enough from his wild childhood to really even hope to see into John's heart.

tl;dr: Arthur thinks he's the legendary Lonesome Cowboy, but he's not. He's just lonely, not alone. In reality, the character who is fundamentally alone, truly lonesome, has always been John.

[theshelbyclan]

Welcome to the chaos, little one

Summary: Giving birth is never easy, especially when it’s a Shelby x Solomons baby…

A/N I’m so slow with requests but a while back the lovely @fandom-puff​requested: Omg sorry to be a pain but I’m a sucker for Shelby chaos 😭😭😭 can I request something linked to A Very Shelby Christmas where the labour of baby Solomons is just as chaotic? But it could also be sweet like the bros finally accepting Alfie bc they all care about YN so much and can’t stand to hear her in pain, all while YN is screaming that she’ll cut off more of Alfie’s dick than his rabbi would even dare to if he ever tried to bed her again 😭😭😭 omg the chaos 👉👈 ily 💓💓 Here we go! This is part 2 to the story A Very Shelby Christmas

Words: 1638

***

“Not now, Y/N,” Arthur groaned. Ada rolled her eyes, remembering keenly when her brother had spoken those iconic words before. “It’s not like I can help it, Arthur,” you spit. 

Polly grabbed you by your arm as you doubled over again, “Alright, sweetheart, it’s time. Come with me…” “Not yet, Aunt Pol,” you panted, “It’s too early.” “The baby doesn’t have it’s own pocket watch yet,” Ada commented matter-of-factly, as she took your other arm. “Fuck!” you called out again as another contraction set in, “Fuck, fuck, fuckity-fuck!” “Nice.” “Oh, piss off John, you want to try this?” “Not really…” “Tommy!” you turned to the one family member who hadn’t said a word yet, “Get him.” “And who would that be, eh?” he replied in a low voice. “Thomas…” Aunt Polly warned softly. He raised his eyebrows, “Finn? You want Finn at the birth?” “WHY WOULD I WANT MY FUCKING BABY BROTHER HERE?!” Tommy waved a vague hand, “General comfort?” Now Aunt Polly’s eyes flashed with anger, “Thomas! Go get her husband, right now!” Tommy sighed deeply, still trying to ignore the fact that his little sister was now Mrs. Solomons, and said, “Come on boys, let’s get them all together and wet this baby’s head! Leave the women to it.” And you groaned, “Thank you…” Once Alfie would be here, everything would be easier.

*** “Solomons!” “No need to shout, mate, I’m right here, ain’t I?”

Slowly Tommy lit a cigarette and started smoking it, “It concerns my sister.” “You mean the glorious creature that made me the luckiest man on earth by marrying me? My wife? Mrs. Alfie Solomons?” A small twinkle appeared in Alfie’s eyes as he saw Tommy’s jaw tense up just a little at his words. “Yes.” “How is the old lady doing?” Alfie asked conversationally. “In pain,” Tommy replied, “She’s in labour, more to the point.” “You fucking what?” “She’s with her aunt Alfie, she’ll be fine.” Alfie blinked a few times, “Tommy I swear to God if you’re playing some fucking game with me I will shoot you between the eyes right here and now. You’re telling me my wife is in labour and you’re standing there casually smoking a cigarette, waiting for some fucking woman to tell you it’s done?” “Yes,” he nodded, “Well, I was about to go the Garrison. Thought we might bury the hatchet and you could join us.” “Have you lost your fucking mind…” Alfie said slowly, while rubbing his chin. Tommy cleared is throat and with a slight hint of uncertainty in his voice said, “It’s tradition.” “Well, if you’ll pardon my French, fuck your fucking heathen traditions, I’m going to my fucking wife and you are fucking coming with me. And bring your fucking family while you’re at it!”

*** “Why are we here?” John leaned in to Arthur slightly while asking the question in a hushed voice. “Alfie insisted.” “Why?” Arthur raised his voice, “Ask Tommy, alright? I don’t bloody know! I’m guessing it’s another Jewish thing…” On the other side of the door, you were most definitely in labour now. The pain was worse than anything you’d experienced before and you were seriously questioning your sanity at this point. “Aunt Pol?” Ada asked carefully after about an hour. Polly moved over from your side down to your legs and said, “What is it?” “Something’s wrong.” “THOMAS!” Polly bellowed as soon as she had taken a look, “Get me some more towels.”

“What’s happening?” A panicked Alfie asked from the hallway. But Polly pushed him aside and started ordering Finn to boil more water. “Woman!” he demanded, “You fucking tell me.” “She’s bleeding,” she answered quickly, “and I can’t see why.” “What can we do, Pol,” Arthur asked, wild-eyed. “Get a doctor. One we can trust.” Arthur dragged John with him, even before Polly had finished her sentence. “What about Sabini’s men?” John asked, “We were supposed to deal with them tonight. What if they come here?” “Shoot them,” Tommy said simply, as he lit another cigarette in a nervous manner. Inside the room, you were now screaming your head off. Of course you had realised giving birth would be painful, but not like this. The sight of Ada going slightly pale didn’t help either and panic had started mixing in with the general anxiety of the process, so your screams got louder and louder. “Pol…” Ada called out again, “What do I do?” In that moment, Alfie pushed passed her and fell down by your side, “I’m here,” he said softly. “I can see that,” you panted between shouts, “but why? You’re not supposed to be here.” “Out,” Aunt Polly said strictly, “This is no place for men.” And then Tommy walked in as well, averting his eyes and grabbing your hand at the same time. “What?” he said when Polly send him a death-glare, “If Alfie gets to stay, so can I!” “Fucking children…” “Alright, sweetheart,” Polly focused on you again, “This baby needs to come now.” Your eyes grew wide, “What’s wrong?” “Nothing,” Alfie replied for her, “You’ll be fine. You’re doing brilliant, babes.” “How the fuck would you know!” you shouted out. He shrugged, “Educated guess?” “Had a lot of experience with this, eh?” Tommy grumbled sarcastically. “This,” Ada pointed at the both of them, “This is why men shouldn’t be in here.” “I’m not fucking going anywhere, especially if my wife is in danger.” Tommy just shook his head in reply. “Danger?” you asked suddenly, “What does he mean in danger?” “No danger, love,” Ada soothed you, “if you just push.” And so you pushed, with every bit of strength you had in you. But then a gunshot sounded outside, followed rapidly by another two. Everyone looked up. “John,” Tommy clarified with a single word. “You’re being awfully cavalier about baby brother John getting shot there, Tommy…” Alfie commented. Tommy looked at Alfie with a frown that spoke volumes, “John just shot Sabini’s men. I told him to.” “Oh, good. Saves me the bloody trip.” “I can see some hair!” Ada called out suddenly. “What colour?” Alfie replied at once. And John stuck his head around the corner of the door, “Took care of them.” “We heard,” Aunt Polly grumbled. He hopped from one foot onto the other uncertainly, “Anything else I can do?” “Yeah, you can fuck off mate!” “Alright, I’ll stay, since you asked so nicely.” “John, just get the fuck out!” your sister shouted. The birth was chaos enough as it was and now all these boys were only adding to it instead of helping. And on top of it all, Finn stumbled in practically falling over his own feet with a bucket of water, splashing Aunt Polly in the process. This was more like a madhouse than a family occasion. But John pointed at Alfie indignantly, “He gets to stay!” “Push, Y/N,” Polly urged again, and so you did. “Nice one,” John laughed at Finn, “you literally had one job, mate.” “Mrs. Gray?” Alfie asked carefully, “Sorry to interrupt you there, alright, but I just wanted to quickly check, because you mentioned the hair, yeah? What colour? Because I’m sure I’ll love my son all the same if he’s blond, but I might just need to mentally prepare myself…” And then you finally burst out in anger, “Can you all just shut the fuck up for a second! I’m actually trying to have a fucking baby here!!” “Right, sorry about that love,” Alfie moved closer to you and grabbed your hand again, “Please continue. You’re doing brilliantly, even if he is blond…” Tommy chuckled lightly in the background, which made you even more angry somehow, “Alfie, I swear to God or Adonai or whatever you want to call him, do nottouch me again because remember how you said you couldn’t remember your circumcision?”

“Yes,” Alfie mumbled in mortal fear.

“You will remember when I do it. Remember how you told me of your rabbi doing it when boys are eight days old, because then it heals faster?”

“Yes...” he gulped.

“I’ll make it slow sweetheart. Really fucking slow.”  

“Right,” he said with big eyes, “What exactly would you have me do then except for just standing here like some great big bloody useless piece of shit?”  

“Shut up!”  

“Noted.” *** You weren’t sure what had happened exactly in that last hour. Apparently you’d lost a lot of blood and things had gotten hazy very quickly. Ada and Aunt Polly had stopped talking altogether and they had managed to save you, despite the bickering men in the background. You did remember that Alfie and Arthur had gotten into a fight at one point, but apparently they managed to resolve it quickly when the doctor arrived and they took turns in beating him up because he was no longer needed. Anger really does bring people together.

Of course, none of that really mattered now, because you were now holding a perfect baby right there, in your arms. Finn just stared at the baby, completely in awe. “Not blond…” John sounded a little disappointed. Arthur grinned, “But bloody perfect.” “Gorgeous, just like the mother,” Polly hugged you carefully. “Shelby good looks.” Tommy nodded slowly, with a sense of pride in his voice. “Any names yet?” Ada asked, “I bet you’ve picked them out ages ago, haven’t you?” “I have,” you smiled, “but couldn’t say them out loud yet, so we didn’t really discuss it. It’s bad luck.”

Uncharacteristically, Alfie hadn’t said a word yet.

“Mr. Solomons?” you said, gazing up from your one love to the other, “I believe you have a daughter.” And finally he smiled, deeply and incredibly in love as he held her tight with both hands. And in the most tender way possible he looked at you, grinned and said, “Fucking hell!”

***

Masterlist

[issaxcharlie]

Falling like the stars✨

Pairing: Alive! Luke Patterson x Fem Reader

Summary: Luke and Y/N never got to be a thing. Whatever they had ended abruptly when she settled on someone with far more status than the aspiring guitarist. Months later, now single, Luke entangles her in a scheme to make Sunset Curve more popular. The only thing she needs to do is fake date him for 2 weeks.

Songs used: Holy Ground by Taylor Swift, Loved You First by One Direction and Falling Like The Stars by James Arthur.

High school is a world by itself. It has its own system and everyone moves through it. It is something that although it is not discussed, everyone knows. Including the three members of Sunset Curve, who are lying in the yard trying to find a solution to their latest problem.

"We need more people to support our music. If we can't get this little school to support us, how are we going to fill clubs or sign with a label?” Reggie wonders aloud to himself, no matter how hard they try, they can't get the Los Feliz student body to listen to their band.

“We should have thought about it before, Reg. Now we're just the problem kids who most likely won't finish school. Why would they come to see us at those seedy little clubs when they can go show off at football games.” Luke stands up suddenly after Alex words, one of those huge smiles that comes out when he has a really bad idea on his face.

“Well it seems that the solution is easy, boys. We have to make them see us on the same level as those jocks.”

“Oh yeah, and how are we going to do that, genius?” Alex fiddles with his hands as he rests his head on Reggie, both tired of not being able to come even close to fulfilling their dream.

Luke points to the nearest post, on which there are at least 5 posters to support the homecoming king and queen.

“Really? Do you think someone would vote for you? Before all those star athletes who also have a cheerleader to back them up? You basically have just us and I don't think I can do one of those tricks.”

“We’ll think of something. Winning that stupid thing would put us directly in the top of the pyramid. We’ll find a way, we always do.” Before anyone can respond, some screaming and commotion can be heard.

“Savannah is accusing Y/N to mess with her man! Run, they are in the hall!" students mention as they start running to watch the discussion.

“Oh god, Y/N. I’ll better go and see if I can help her somehow.” Alex gets up and Reggie begins to follow him, but not before turning to make sure Luke is following too. The guitarist makes an irritated face but ends up walking behind his friends.

From the moment they enter the main hall they can hear the screeches of probably the most popular girl in school, Savannah Miller. One of those typical unbearable girls who for some reason always reach the top of the elite in schools despite treating everyone badly.

Y/N Y/L is on the other side of the discussion, she looks calm and even bored. The first thing Luke digests from Savannah's words is that she thinks Y/N was making out with her idiot of a boyfriend during third period. What's interesting about the situation is that Diego cheated on Y/N with Savannah maybe a week and a half ago and had been dating her ever since.

But that's not Y/N's style, no matter how angry she is.

Luke knows her well enough, or so he wants to believe. She was always good friends with Alex and Reggie, and her relationship with them remained strong over the years despite how unstable and fleeting her relationship with the guitarist was.

He's never going to admit how deeply he felt for her. How much it screwed him up that just when he finally began to believe they could be something else, she completely walked away from his life so she could date the man that would end up cheating on her just because he looked more promising at the time. Rich, popular, the quarterback of the football team, the ‘perfect guy’ she said to the boys.

But hey, that's past.

Luke looks up to meet Y/N's eyes on him. In the moment she realizes she was caught, she sneakily turns to Alex, who is just inches from the guitarist and smiles at him.

“Are you actually smiling? You think this is funny?” The girl looks furious, but she's smart enough not to make this a battle of strength.

“I already told you, Savannah. It wasn’t me.”

“I can count, Y/N. Neither you nor Diego were in class."

And that’s when it hits him. The possibility of getting to the top of the pyramid in front of him. Because maybe Y/N is not the most popular, but it is undoubtedly one of the most loved by everyone. Intelligent, caring, beautiful, talented. And she certainly has the status after dating Diego Hernandez for one semester. No one had managed more than 3 months with him and the guitarist thinks that was a good sign that that idiot is not a good idea but well, it wasn’t his choice.

Luke begins to walk towards the center of the circle, Alex tries to stop him but cannot catch his arm in time. Both girls turn to see him surprised, but neither says anything.

"You can go find culprits elsewhere, Y/N was busy with me at the time. You can ask whoever you want and they'll tell you that I wasn't in class during third period either."

Of course, he wasn't there because the trio got into Reggie's old truck to get some hotdogs but no one has to know that.

His hand goes to take her firmly by the hip, just like all those nights that now only remain as memories. He is looking at every inch of her face, searching for her reaction, and is surprised by the naturalness with which the girl accepts the gesture. As if his hand belongs there. And maybe, just maybe, it does.

“Do you really want me to believe this?” Savannah asks, clearly annoyed.

“Y/N and Patterson? There’s just no way in hell. C’mon babe, he’s just pathetic, you could do better.” Diego says out loud as he approaches the scene in the middle of Y/N and Savannah.

There's something about the disgruntled way they both said it that makes Luke want to prove that a girl like her could want him. He doesn’t know how to distinguish if it is pride or insecurity but at the moment he is not interested.

He's barely going to open his mouth to defend himself when Y/N starts talking. "No. You can speak as badly as you want of me but you're not going to bring Luke into this."

Luke lets go of her so he can step back a few inches and see her from a better angle. She’s definitely not calm anymore. Her face looks altered and she is undoubtedly in protective mode. She turns to see him when she feels his hand leave her body but he offers her his hand and she intertwines it between her fingers without hesitation. At this rate she is taking control of the situation so he is going to let her continue and try to achieve his goal along the way.

“I know you need a partner to have any hope of winning the crown, but choosing Patterson is a desperate move.”

And that’s his cue. "If my baby wants that crown I will get it for her. It's that easy.”

“What? I do-” At that moment Luke panics and pulls her by the hand that they have intertwined and with the other holds her face while bringing their lips together. When he reacts to what he is doing he is afraid that Y/N will push him in front of everyone but to his surprise she kisses him back instantly, releasing his hand to bring him closer to the neck.

The kiss is passionate and almost desperate, but it only lasts a few seconds since a voice brings them back.

"This feels like deja vu." Reggie whispers to Alex, they both walked during the discussion towards the circle and are so close that Luke and Y/N heard him clearly.

“Well, we already clarified that she was not with your boyfriend so, I’ll take my girl. It was a pleasure, we should repeat this another day... said no one ever." Luke takes her hand and leads her to the nearest empty living room, Reggie and Alex locking the door behind him.

“What the hell was that crown bullshit? Why did you even cover for me? What are you up to? At least tell me is fun... or that includes you shirtless.” She jokes, a cheeky smile spreads in Luke’s face.

“I need a favor and thought you’ll appreciate an alibi.” She raises her eyebrow in reflex.

“Why would I help you, Lucas?” Luke can only think of how she makes a name as simple and boring as Lucas sound so sexy when she says it. Is incredible.

“Cut the act, beautiful. We both know you've never been able to resist me.” Y/N laughs amused at the boy’s sassiness. She won't admit it but she missed his eyes on her. She missed the way he uses that cocky stupid voice that melts her when he wants something. How he gets closer with each sentence, or his lips on her mouth.

Before she can counter attack, Alex stands in front of the guitarist raising his hands. “I know he’s an idiot, but we really need your help, Y/N. If we want Sunset Curve to gain popularity we have to start here, and this is our last year. Gaining popularity among the elite of the school would help us a lot.”

“We are getting desparate.” Reggie adds, a sad smile on his face.

“And pretending I made out with Luke in third period and getting to be homecoming dance queen and king helps you... why?”

“That crown is literally a test of popularity and status. It would put Luke on the same level as the popular kids like Savannah and Diego. People would be more interested in Sunset Curve after that. For now, for them we are only three good for nothing that one day will not appear around here again. You heard yourself that those two didn't think Luke was good enough."

Her face flushes with anger as soon as she remembers the contemptuous tone of voice they used to refer to Luke. If they hadn't been in the middle of the hall, she probably would have said a lot more than she did. That single comment is enough to make her decide, so without thinking Y/N asks “What do you need me to do?”

“Just play perfect couple with Luke until homecoming dance. Then you are queen and king, Sunset Curve gets the fans we deserve, you get to laugh at Savannah’s face and you can separate next day if you want to.”

“I’m not sure If someone is going to believe it.” She blurts out loud as she glances at the guitarist.

“Oh please, you know each others mouth better than your own names.” Reggie says without thinking, Luke snorted with laughter and Y/N blushes like crazy.

“Yeah, and you used to spend a lot of time together too, two weeks shouldn’t be that hard.” Alex tries to recover the seriousness of the situation to close the deal.

“Okay then. If I can help Sunset Curve and get that smirk of superiority off Savannah's face then sounds good to me. Are you willing to date me, Patterson?”

Their eyes meet again and without a sign of hesitation her now officially boyfriend for the next two weeks, answers.

“Beautiful, you have no idea.”

There is something about relationships that never get to happen that make the heart weigh more, that nostalgia to be stronger, the person more difficult to forget. Luke can't help but remember during the last periods of the day just how good it felt to taste the girl's lips again. Feelings of desire, of familiarity, of belonging. All colliding and going deep into his bones.

He decided a long time ago he didn't do relationships, but if he did, it would have been with her. He was willing to break that rule for her, but she had the final decision and it wasn't him. He accidentally put himself in the perfect situation though. All those what if’s will finally have an answer.

For two weeks he can test what it would have been if Y/N Y/L had chosen him. And when he finally tries the experience he will be free. Free from all the what if’s, free from her, from her memory. And there's also the part of how much the band will benefit. The main objective of doing this, obviously.

The last hour is finally over and Luke sped off toward Reggie's truck. In front of it is Alex already waiting and he can see Reggie and Y/N also walking in the same direction. The four of them regroup and Y/N starts to discuss game plan.

“If we are going to do this, we are going to do it well. There will be a party at Finch's house this Saturday and the three of you are coming with me."

The three members of Sunset Curve make an annoyed face at the words of their friend. "That's exactly why no one supports you. You think you are too cool to hang out with the people but then you want everyone to happily buy your shirts and listen to your music."

“She has a point there.” Alex agrees, and puts his arm around her shoulder.

“Okay, let’s do this. If you all come with me, we can leave early and crash one of those places you usually play. Maybe even have some people of the party to come with us and hear you rock the shit out of that place.” All three smile with bright eyes In response.

“You got yourself a deal, pretty lady.” Reggie says in a flirting tone and winks at her. Luke gives him a light punch on the arm.

"I'll see you on Saturday in my house then, at nine. Goodbye boys." She winks at Luke and walks over to her car, making sure to do a perfect walk because she knows pretty well that the guitarist isn't going to stop watching her until she pulls out of the parking lot.

Luke gives her a perfect smile one last time before Y/N leaves school. These two weeks are going to be weird.

The four members of the band are in the truck, Bobby decided to get out of school recently but a party and a gig sounds like a rad Saturday. Luke gets out and walks to the door to wait for Y/N to come out. When she finally comes down he feels like all the air is coming out of his lungs.

She's wearing the black Sunset Curve t-shirt that he forgot one of the many times he climbed up to the second floor of the house to see her. A short black skirt and one of his red flannels that he probably left there several months ago as well. Black fishnets stockings which he can't help but imagine ripping out with his teeth, her lips in that tone of red that drives him crazy, and her classic black boots that he hadn't seen since she started dating the cheating idiot.

“Genius huh? Is there anything that says more ‘Luke Patterson’s property’ than this? I don’t think so." She smiles proudly and blushes when she notices Luke's gaze locked on her legs. Fishnets may have been included in the outfit due to a certain weakness that the musician has towards them.

The hair that the guitarist is used to seeing in a perfect bun lately, is now loose and tousled. As rebellious as the day he met her, moving in harmonious tune to the rhythm of Now or Never.

Luke reaches out to to entwine his hand in her hair and whispers slowly into her ear “You look... fucking hell, you are not playing fair, baby.” Lightly biting her lobe when he’s done speaking.

They both linger in a trance for a few seconds, considering whether they should just walk in and lock the door. But before they can decide, the boys that already know this story pretty well and are sick of waiting for them while they flirt, get out of the truck. Reggie carries Y/N like a sack of potatoes and between Bobby and Alex take Luke by the arms, putting them in the vehicle so they can finally get to the lame party and then, the gig.

When they finally arrive, the eyes of almost all the girls go to the members of the band, who are definitely dressed for the occasion. Y/N can't help but notice how most of the cheerleaders wink at her boyfriend. Yeah, it’s not real and will last two weeks, but for now she justs wants to forget that part and enjoy the feeling of him being hers.

So she makes a small, harmless gesture to mark territory and puts her hand in the guitarist's back pocket.

Luke turns to see her, an amused smirk on his face. “Jealousy looks so hot on you, I wouldn't mind if you marked my lips with that red lipstick too."

That statement resonates in Y/N’s head. All the times Diego refused to kiss her so as not to stain himself and even forbade her to use that lipstick that for her was part of her brand returning to her head. Followed quickly by every night Luke came down after finishing playing and instantly attacked her lips with his, caring for nothing more than the feel of their tongues fighting for control.

“Not jealousy, just a quick reminder to everyone. You are all mine tonight.” She puts a little more pressure on the hand in his pocket and stands on her tiptoes to kiss the corner of his lips.

“Dance with me?” She asks innocently while giving him a flirtatious smile.

“With you, always beautiful.” He smiles back, winking charmingly.

His hands find hers and she begins to dance and jump gracefully to the rhythm of the music as he spins her around, both singing the lyrics to each other with unmatched energy, happy to be together.

“Tonight I'm gonna dance, for all that we've been through.” She sings with a determined voice, taking the musician by the hair and bringing their faces closer.

“But I don't wanna dance, If I'm not dancing with you.” Luke returns the verse with the same passion, just inches separating their lips. His beautiful and trained voice tends to sound like a more country vibe when he gets carried away and especially in more pop melodies like this, and honestly drives her crazy.

The fact that the rocker at heart gave in to listen to other genres for her and even remembered the lyrics was enough to melt her heart. The last time she was able to let herself go and sing at the top of her lungs like this was with him, listening to a mix of their favorite songs in his car while going for their favorite icecream. Whatever they had was a lot more deeper than what they are willing to admit.

“Did we really just see Luke sing and dance to a pop-country song?” Reggie asks the band, Alex and Bobby behind him laughing at the guitarist who blushes and kisses his date's forehead. “I am not going to discuss this. I'll go get us something to drink." He winks at her and dissapears into the crowd.

“I’ll go too, be right back.” Bobby announces leaving Y/N with Alex and Reggie, who smirk at her.

“It seems that pretending is easier than you thought.” Alex can't stop smiling, Reggie playfully itches the girl's ribs who grins from ear to ear.

"Everything always fits when I'm with him. I ruined my chance. I'm totally aware, and I'm not expecting anything from him, because I honestly don't deserve it. But I plan to enjoy every second of these two weeks that came from heaven to the fullest.”

“You should explain hi-” Before Reggie can finish speaking, Diego appears behind Y/N and tries to forcefully pull her by the arm.

The guys manage to react quickly and release her arm while stepping in front of her. But right away his teammates get behind him.

“Save yourselves the pain, she is going with me.” Diego says confidently, his face showing arrogance.

“Guys, ple-” She tries to stop them from getting hurt, but both step a little forward, determined to protect her no matter the cost.

“You are not taking her, Diego. But you are more than welcome to try.” Alex's voice sounds cool and calm, but Y/N can see how much his hands are shaking and her heart hurts at the sight.

They are all so into their own business that nobody notices the guitarist's return until his lips collide with his girl, who is surprised for a few seconds but immediately recognizes him and gives him space for his tongue to taste her mouth.

They both lose themselves in the kiss for a few seconds longer than necessary and then slowly separate. Y/N grinning from ear to ear as she tries to wipe some of her lipstick off Luke's mouth. He just smirks, as happy as ever.

"Sorry guys, do you need something?" He plays the innocent card. After that kiss, most of the people at the party are watching the scene, so Diego, who looks furious, chooses to leave without saying anything. Right away they can hear a long restrained breath from Reggie and Alex.

“You are a cocky genius, I'm not sure we could have won that one.”

“I’m not sure? Did you seriously think we had a chance?” Alex asks, clearly anxious after what had just happened.

Y/N stands in front of them and throws herself into their arms, whispering how many thanks she can say in a row. They return the hug and begin to relax in each others arms. Bobby and Luke join in the hug, and Luke whispers his own thanks to his friends.

The band decides that it’s time to go and to their surprise, when they let people know that they are going to play at a small club in the center of the city, some decide to follow them. On the way, Y/N spends her time wiping her lipstick off Luke’s face with some wipes she had in her bag, struggling not to press her lips against his every time he made her an adorable grimace or a flirtatious smile.

“You know the drill, beautiful.” Luke turns to see her directly in the eyes, concern on his face just like every time before.

“Front row, not a second out of your sight, so if I need something better wait for you guys to finish performing to get it. Better safe than sorry." She recites, proud to remember every word.

“Thank you, baby.” He smiles a little more calmly, gives her a light kiss on the cheek and starts to help take out the instruments.

They are only doing a few songs from their repertoire, but the energy they transmit drives everyone in the little club crazy. The Sunset Curve members look at a Luke they haven't seen in a long time. The energy and passion in his voice dedicated entirely to the little woman in the front row who sings with all her strength every word and melody, imitating Luke's guitar solos or Alex's drums with her arms.

The 15 students who decided to attend are close to Y/N, trying to get her attention from time to time but nothing can take her eyes off her friends. Not even she knew how much she had missed seeing them play. The look of maximum happiness on their faces.

The last song is one that the little club seems quite familiar with, but she had never heard it before. So it must have been written in the last six months.

“Had my chances, could've been where he is standing.

That's what hurts the most, girl, I came so close

But now you'll never know. Baby, I loved you first.”

The lyrics leave her breathless. Luke, who had made contact with her practically all night, now seems to avoid her eyes like a plague. She definitely has to ask Alex about this song before getting any ideas.

The four bow and get off the stage, Luke launches immediately for Y/N, some of the girls try to get his attention and even try to grab him by the arm or waist but he remains firm until his hands meet his girl's hip.

“What do you think?” Luke's fingers shaking in the grip on her waist tell her he's nervous. The fact that her opinion of them matters so much to him that it makes him feel insecure makes her heart skip a beat.

“It was amazing as always, rockstar.” A huge smile appears on the guitarist's face, who gently takes her face with his hands and kisses her nose. After all, he has to remember that they are only pretending to date and for now he has no good reason to push his lips against hers. It doesn't matter how much he needs her.

The way home is uneventful, Y/N sleeping in Luke's arms while Alex puts the guitarist's red flannel over her.

“Will they ever stop pretending they're ridiculously in love with each other?” Bobby asks Reggie as he turns his head to see the couple.

“They are both stubborn and allergic to real feelings. Especially love. They are so terrified that they have to sabotage themselves somehow.” Alex answers for Reggie who just nods without taking his eyes off the road.

"Do you really have to talk like I'm not here?" Luke asks, resting his chin delicately on the head of the woman in his arms.

Tonight felt unreal. Felt practically like one of the many dreams he has had with the girl throughout these months. Seeing her in his clothes was enough to make the night special, but without a doubt dancing in her arms, savoring every inch of her mouth and seeing her energetically sing each of his songs to end the night with her in his arms is just perfect. Reggie parks at Y/N’s after dropping Alex and Bobby, and as Luke decides how to get her to bed without waking her she sinks deeper into his chest.

"Carry me to the door hotstuff, I like to be in your sexy arms." Luke lets out a cheeky laugh in surprise, another laugh coming from Reggie.

“She’s so asleep, I can’t. Adorable though.” Luke agrees and takes her bag before walking down with her in his arms and carrying her effortlessly to the door.

“Thank you for tonight. I didn’t think I could ever feel this happy and complete again.” She murmurs in his ear before giving him a sweet peck in the lips and enter the house.

What the two of them took from tonight is that indisputably, they are both still head over heels for each other. But it was like that the first time and it just wasn't enough.

Days go by with the couple being the school's favorite gossip. People talking in the hallways about the special way Luke looks at his girlfriend, comparisons about the dry way Y/N used to be with Diego compared to how she is with the guitarist, always touching him somehow and spending all the time with him as possible, visibly much happier. Some also talking about how good the band sounds and wondering why they hadn't heard it before. Everything going according to plan.

On Thursday afternoon, Luke arranged to pick her up for the two of them to find him something formal enough for the dance. When Y/N opened the door she met his beautiful greenish hazel eyes, and swears that for a second she forgot how to breathe.

She knows this scene. He smiles sweetly at her, takes her hand and opens the door of the car for her. Multiple interesting memories inside this car coming back to her mind. His firm hands on her legs, his tongue testing her mouth, his hot moans after biting his lower lip...

“Beautiful? Whatcha thinking?” Luke's voice brings her back to the present, his hand goes directly to her thigh as all that many midnight drives and without saying anything he plays the girl's favorite album.

That’s it. If she wants a chance with him, she needs to make this right. “I- We really need to talk.” Hearing the tone of her voice, Luke senses what is coming. He was here before. So he turns off the car that hadn't even started to move yet and turns to look at her.

"I know we've been putting it off, but we have to talk about how it all ended, I-"

Luke interrupts her before she can finish, his voice sounds broken, sad, angry. "I really don't want to talk about how you preferred an idiot for whom you don't feel the remotest thing just because he'll get a football scholarship and this perfect future.”

She spends a few seconds processing his words. Did he really say what she thinks he said? "It wasn't like that, Luke."

"I know it looks like I can't compete with him, but I would have done anything for you. And I thought you knew that.”

She doesn't know what to do or say. She was so unconscious, so selfish, so heartless, that she didn't even think about how he could have understood the situation. In how much he must have suffered these months watching her with Diego, believing he wasn’t good enough. Believing that she chose someone who wasn’t him, because he wasn’t good enough.

He stays quiet, examining the girl who seems about to cling to tears. The anger evaporates instantly and he leans into her seat to wrap his arms tightly around her. She starts sobbing, but seems determined to talk.

“R- Remember the night we met? It was the first Sunset Curve presentation. I had just entered the little club, but your voice dragged me to the front row like a magnet. And when I was finally in front of the stage, I knew it. It was you. The butterflies that everyone talks about for the first time in my stomach. I knew I could never feel again something even close to what I was feeling at that moment.

I got carried away in your voice, dancing to the rhythm of the melody and recording every sound in my head. And when I opened my eyes again, yours were staring at me. And I understood that you felt it too. It was me, and you knew it. It was so natural, powerful, magnetic, deep. I loved you since the first day, Luke. How is that not going to scare me?

When the feelings started to get so strong they burned, I knew I had to run. You always made it very clear that relationships were not your thing, I could not continue to wait for something that from the beginning you made it clear you could not give.

Then Diego arrived at the right time to give me an exit, and I took it. I knew he just wanted to have me around to raise his good boy status, and feeling nothing was safer than feeling too much. So I lied. I lied to you, to me, to everyone. And I’m sorry, but I was so scared. I was a coward who should have done things differently.”

When she finally finishes pulling out what she's been saving for months, she pulls away from Luke to see his face. His eyes look crystal clear, his cheeks red. But his beautiful white smile lights up his face.

"Next time you love me so much that you can't bear it, let me know, please? I can step on your foot or sneeze in your face. I was literally going to ask you to be my girlfriend that weekend. I even wrote you a song."

“You were? The one you sang the other night?”

“Okay, I wrote you a lot of songs. Maybe too many. But the one I'm talking about is different. Maybe I'll let you listen to it one day. If you stick around long enough this time.”

She smirks and kiss him lightly on the lips, enjoying the feeling of being able to. He knows he reacted way too chill. But he also understands her feelings. What is the point of reproaching her for something they can no longer change? A bad decision made by a love so immense that it left her blind. He is simply not willing to waste any more time. They are finally going to do things right. Neither of them is going to self-sabotage it this time, and since he doesn't trust it, he'll put Alex and Reggie in charge to make sure.

The night of the dance arrives. Y/N is wearing a beautiful black dress and her classic red lips. Luke tried his best to look fancy and he's wearing a pretty cool suit but in a sleeveless version. His still fake girlfriend couldn't stop smiling when she saw him. Just perfect.

Dancing in his arms, letting him go only once in a while to dance with the other three members of Sunset Curve made the night amazing. The rest of these two weeks they spent it talking, laughing... making out. Enjoying the most of the time they lost. Even completely forgetting why they were faking it in the first place, until they ask the candidates to take the stage.

"And your king are queen are... Y/N Y/L and Diego Hernandez!"

They all turn to see Luke in shock. Just hearing their names together is enough to make him frustrated, but there's not much he can do right now. And that's when he remembers what he asked the boys to play for the king and queen's first dance. Great, now dance they’ll dance to his song together. Just his damn luck. He sabotaged himself again without imagining it.

They are crowned and Diego offers her his hand, not without first throwing a face of superiority to the guitarist. She walks but continues straight until she is in front of her lover.

Luke looks at her strangely, she smiles at him.

“But I don't wanna dance, If I'm not dancing with you. Remember?” She sings happily in his ear, and offers her hand.

“Dance with me?” He looks at her adoringly and takes her hand.

“Always, beautiful.”

They walk to the center of the floor, Alex begins to sing the first verse. Y/N rests her head on Luke's chest, her hands around his neck, as he presses her against him by the hip, wrapping her in his arms. His head bent to sing the song in her ear.

“I swear to God, I can see... you're still the girl in the club.”

Tears of happiness begin to flow from Y/N, the words that she never had the opportunity to know, finally getting revealed. Luke's sweet, soft voice in her ear. The perfect melody and the beautiful voice of Reggie and Alex in the background.

“And I need you to know that we're fallin' so fast

We're fallin' like the stars, fallin' in love.”

The moment he sings in love, Y/N lifts her head to meet his eyes. He lifts his hands to her cheeks to wipe her tears, gently holding her face to make sure she sees him recite every word.

“And I'm not scared to say those words. With you, I'm safe.

We're fallin' like the stars, we're fallin' in love.”

The second Luke finishes singing, Y/N stands on tiptoe and pushes her lips against his. Tears of happiness continue to fall from her face, wrapped in a passionate, slow, deep kiss. He's all she wants. Her heart chose him since the very first day.

“I can’t believe one of Luke’s random ideas it's what made them find their way back to each other. Reg, we tried for 6 months and we were never even close. Two weeks ‘pretending’ and bam! they are just fine.”

Both watch the happy couple dance now that they are official.

"You know what they say, Fake it till you make it.” Reggie smirks while watching Luke happily kiss Y/N.

“Fair. At least everything was fixed before we shoved Luke into the pool to see if Y/N would rescue him with a mouth-to-mouth kiss."

“We still could try, you know... for science.”

“Cool. Monday works for me. Do you think that even though he didn't win, we still have a chance to win some more fans?”

Reggie raises his head before answering, a smile appears when he sees the bunch of girls and boys who are spying on them just a few meters away. Probably waiting for them to finish talking to get closer.

“I think Sunset Curve will be just fine too, Alex.”

Thank you for reading✨

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[dai-bendu-conlang]

Qui-Gon’s Last Words in Dai-Bendu — a Meta/Explanation

So very early into this project, loosingletters and I (ghostwriter) watched The Phantom Menace together, and when Qui-Gon died, we looked at each other and were like “We can make this way sadder in translation, can’t we?” 

And so off we went, with that goal in mind. 

Because we went into this thinking “can we improve this interaction via language/translation?”  we need to first first explain why we don’t love Qui-Gon’s last words in canon, to then explain why we made the changes that we did.

The reasons are as follows:

Qui-Gon’s last words have nothing to do with Obi-Wan, the person he is saying goodbye to.

His last words being an order about Anakin left a weird taste in our mouths

We wanted this to feel more intimate and more emotional

So, we started with ways we could change the connotation of the words being used. We came at it from a lens of assuming that the dialogue was a classic “bad translation” of what was actually said; as in, someone translated the literal meanings of the words into English, and lost a lot of the social meanings that the words might have in their original contexts. 

Here are Qui-Gon’s original last words, in canon:

Obi-Wan: Master! Master! Qui-Gon: It’s too late. It’s too… Obi-Wan: No! Qui-Gon: Obi-Wan, promise...promise me you'll train the boy Obi-Wan: Yes, Master Qui-Gon: He is the chosen one...he will...bring balance...train him!

(Sidenote: upon actually looking up the dialogue, we were honestly shocked by how, like. Bare bones it is. And how pretty much all the emotion of that scene comes only from Neeson and McGregor acting their hearts out. So, kudos.)

When looking at this dialogue, we singled out the following things as points we could build on: 

Jedi cultural values regarding teaching (which we all have a lot of Feelings about)

The word “promise”

The whole idea of balance

And then we proceeded to go to town. 

The Dai Bendu translation of this dialogue is as follows:

Obi-Wan: Jaieh! Jaieh! Qui-Gon: Im enoh...nev forpai paikazah Obi-Wan: Shet. Qui-Gon: Obi-Wan, ikio… ikio fehl paipadenji keel nev paqorak. Obi-Wan: Haj dai, Jaieh. Qui-Gon: Enoah kar... daisha. Pauji... kar aimato’ak. Paden... karak.

Firstly, the things we didn’t change, ie: pretty much all of Obi-Wan’s dialogue.

Obi-Wan says, in order, “Master, Master!” (though he uses the Jedi-specific word for it, which also translates to “teacher”), “No.” and “Yes, Master,” just like in the original script. The most significant thing here is that the Dai Bendu word for “Yes” directly translates to “Force-Wills,” which could be read as some unintentional, ouchy subtext that both implies that Obi-Wan is agreeing with Qui-Gon’s point about Anakin being the Chosen One as a final act of comfort (because he’s expressed doubt about the possibility before), as well as conceding to both himself, Qui-Gon, and the universe that the Force has willed his Master’s death. 

Next, the things that changed from the script mostly as a symptom of the ways that Dai Bendu is different from English/Basic. For instance, Qui-Gon refers to Anakin as “the child” rather than “the boy,” because Dai Bendu does not express gender in that way. Instead of saying “it’s too late,” a more word-for-word direct translation of “Im enoh nev forpai paikazah” would be “no time is left,” which both lines up with how we imagine time works in Dai Bendu (link here), and is more natural to the way Dai Bendu handles sentence structure (“it’s too late” is a very English sentence construction). 

And now we get to the meaning changes. Other than changing the structure, “im enoh nev forpai paikazah” also adds “pai,” our consequential prefix, to “kazah,” which is the present-tense of the verb “kaza” or “to leave.” That makes the sentence mean something like “no time is left, and because of that the future has changed.” This is essentially Qui-Gon admitting to both himself and to Obi-Wan that his death is going to change, at the very least, Obi-Wan’s future forever, and also the future of the entire universe (though whether or not Qui-Gon knows this last part, in a Force-saturated moment right before death, is unclear in both the original version and our version). 

Qui-Gon’s next line is “Obi-Wan, ikio… ikio fehl paipadenji keel nev paqorak.” Again, we have the consequential prefix, this time attached to “paden,” which means “to guide/to teach,” here in the future tense. The implication of that being something like “teach him and it will alter the future.” Adding the consequential prefix to something which is already in the future tense is considered repetitive — comparable to saying something like “it is so enormously big” in English. A native speaker making the choice to add it here illustrates a conscious emphasis. Qui-Gon is really trying to express how important he thinks teaching Anakin is. 

We also have a lot of Thoughts and Feelings about the Jedi as a people who are dedicated to teaching as a cultural value. On top of being archivists and having/keeping a vast collection of knowledge, Jedi do pretty much nothing but study/learn their entire lives. They are dedicated diplomats and so on, but outside of that they seem to want to foster understanding and that in-and-of itself is always a lesson. In TCW, for instance, everything is a teachable moment for someone. The fact that so much careful consideration is put into who you pick as your Padawan, and that you retain a deep connection to them even when the apprenticeship is over, shows that this connection and this act of teaching is immensely important. It is considered a standard part of each Jedi’s life to step into that teaching role at least once — nearly every Jedi takes on at least one apprentice. If you take Obi-Wan as an example, he spent half his time in the PT being a student, and then the other half being a teacher. So here, Qui-Gon is taking one of their culture’s most important values and handing it to Obi-Wan. 

Then we have the word for “promise” we used, “ikio.” While we have a standard word for promise, “aima,” the word that Qui-Gon uses here instead is one with more cultural meaning. “Ikio” refers to a very specific kind of promise, something like “promise me because you love me,” or “promise me because I trust you above all.”  The word dates back to the Jedi-Sith schism, where it was used as an oath to state that you trust this person to take your lightsaber and bring it back to your home temple, should you die in battle.

Which means that, holistically, the line “Obi-Wan, ikio… ikio fehl paipadenji keel nev paqorak” both places the highest amount of trust possible in Obi-Wan’s hands, while also stating that Qui-Gon believes him ready of preforming one of their most culturally important values, and trusts him implicitly to carry that out. 

Finally, the line “Enoah kar... daisha. Pauji... kar aimato’ak. Paden... karak.” Some of this is, again, just us having words in Dai Bendu which Basic doesn’t have. “Daisha” is the word for Chosen One, the one referred to as such specifically to that old prophecy Qui-Gon likes so much. It’s a word that all Jedi would be familiar with, but usually in the context of folk tales. It’s like calling someone “The Once and Future King.” (Which also makes Qui-Gon talking to the Council way funnier — “hey guys, I found King Arthur!” “what the fuck??”). Qui-Gon also uses the third person Jedi/in-community pronouns when referring to Anakin, showing that he already thinks of this kid as a Jedi. 

Then there is the concept of “aimato,” here in the accusative case as “aimato’ak.” Aimato is the word for “cosmic balance,” which is both a very important idea in Jedi philosophy, and also a very big and abstract concept. And like any other big and abstract concept which has a large impact on lives and culture, like Love or Brotherhood or Democracy or God, it’s something that individual people and individual Jedi have different conceptions of and ideas about. This is a culture of warrior-philosophers — pretty much everyone has a slightly different theory as to what aimato/”cosmic balance” is supposed to mean and what it will look like when it is achieved, or if it’s possible to achieve, from "it means that one day the Force shows itself to all people" to "it's about finding balance within only yourself" to "it means that evil will finally stand down" to "it means that all who strive for it will achieve peace" to "it's in tiny everyday moments." People sit around and debate this for hours. 

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan deeply disagree on it’s definition, given their specialties in the Living vs. Unifying Force, and have essentially had an ongoing debate about it for years. It’s an old, comfortable argument both of them know that neither is ever going to win. They could both probably recite the other’s points in their sleep. However, it’s something they end up going back to every time they have a spare moment with nothing else to do. 

Qui-Gon bringing it up here is not only referring to something very important in their culture, it’s almost like referencing an old, treasured inside joke between him and his student, which is something Obi-Wan would pick up on right away. 

So, to summarize; we attempted to modify this very... Anakin-focused last dialogue, and instead make it about Qui-Gon telling Obi-Wan he trusts him above all, specifically to teach (which, again, with Jedi and their teaching focused culture is a HUGE thing) and to continue their discussions and keep their traditions going with this child.

It’s also a fun thought experiment in translation studies — sometimes, things really can get lost in a one-for-one translation of something, when cultural and collaborative meaning aren’t considered and translated accordingly. 

Thank you for reading!

[sirensmojo]

“Hush” - Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warning: Pure Smut.

Summary: You’re Tommy Shelby’s girlfriend since before he went to France. Now that he is back, your relationship took a different turn. With his trauma, you went from “once a week” to an everyday necessity. You’re his peace, his quiet place. He can’t deal with anything if you’re not by his side.

Word count: 2K

*Masterlist*

That day you woke up next to him, one of his arms around your neck. Thomas was still sleeping, his face peaceful. That was the only time when you couldn't see any prints of sadness that usually was on Tommy's face. Things got very overwhelming for him since he was back home. It didn't take you long to see he hadn't return the same. It was like even breathing was something that coasted him a lot. His mind was undoubtedly elsewhere all the time, but you didn't care. He was your Shelby. All that matter for you was to keep him close, and he kenned you took that task seriously. 

Often Arthur would break down, and no one but Tommy could get something out of him when he was that way. The main question that remained was who was there for Tommy if he was the one there for everybody. Guess it’ll have to be you. "Hush..." You used to murmur whenever he would sharply let his head drop on your chest in a huff, him groaning while his arms embraced your waist and held you tight. 

Anytime, whenever he needed to clear his mind, it was towards you he would turn to, and even when he didn’t act like he needed you you’d still remained by his side.

Of course your life didn’t turn around him, you’d still attend to your usual business tasks as owning a restaurant in Small Heath, but he and you were together whenever you had the occasion to.

You ran your fingers into his mane slowly, still looking in amazement at how calm he was when sleeping. He was running the business family, so he bore a heavy burden on his shoulders.

Today, like every other day, he will run all over the city to try to make it all work, and all you wanted was to make his waking as smooth as you could, knowing pressure will follow him all day long. You wanted his mornings free of any heavy and too demanding thoughts, as for sure, they will run in his mind all day. 

Tommy exhaled deeply and mechanically pulled you closer to him, your head now pressed against his chest. "my love", You lowly let out, felling his heart beating in chest. Your other hand hassled to reach his cheek as your got your head up to his, stroking it gently. He groaned as a response, making you instantly smile.

"Wake up, handsome" You added. It wasn’t an easy task to wake him up, he was pretty slow to open his eyes, and you felt proud of this. To you it meant he felt safe in your arms, he felt good, with you.

His lids finally opened, his deep blue eyes now staring at yours. 

He didn't need to talk. Words weren't enough. They will never be enough for him to express everything. He was, indeed, always at a loss of words to describe anything that happened to him or even the simplest thing. With Thomas Shelby, you had to decipher each his thoughts from his eyes, for he will not speak them. And to do that, you would drown in his orbs for as long as you needed to. And then, there it was. You knew precisely what was on his mind. 

You slid both your hands on his neck and started to peck at his face. Your damp and warm lips encountered his skin with tenderness. Each time they would drop on his skin, you could hear growls emanating from his throat. Deep and stifled they were, you could recognize them among thousand others.

You didn't lose contact with his eyes, and finally dared to kiss his lips. Tom welcomed it pleasingly. He kissed you back with an urge, making explicit what he wanted in reality. The simple fact you could read him so well made you gasp for air, you couldn’t believe the connection that bonded you together. It was even more explicit and passionate than before war. 

Your lips opened slightly in a sigh, only arousing further his desire for you. He took advantage of your mind being elsewhere to slid the tip of his tongue in your mouth, and you met him in some sort of approval. Only then he leaned on you.

 His callous hands dawdle on every part of your body he would meet during his race to reach your hips. That was the part of your body he liked the most, you could tell because whenever he got the chance to, he would grasp them, even if you were in the middle of the street, or Arthur's pub. Thomas never cared about who was around.

When you were in the same place as him, you were the only thing he would see. Tommy could spend hours watching and touching you if you didn't call him out. "Thomas, keep your hands for yourself", you would say. And just like that, he would head back to reality and manage family affairs like a boss. His swinging moods made you laugh the most. If was typical of you to turn consequences of his traumatic experience into jokes, you’d rather laugh about it than cry over it, or else you would never stop.

Just imagining what he had to endure to change that drastically stopped air from filling your lungs, and it would leave you throat knotted. He, that was always being playful, making jokes and even believed he could change the world, was the same as the one that solely speaks when its needed and couldn’t smile most of the time. 

His hands finally meet the skin of your hips he greedily kneaded in between his fingers. You could already feel his growing bump against your core. You pressed your body upward to get in touch with him more. He abruptly pulled your body down with much pressure, your back sinking in the sheets. You groaned to voice your displeasure, which led to Tommy to bite the thin skin of the hollow of your neck, only teasing you further. "Thomas"Letting out a whimper. 

Your voice sounded way more sensual than what you intended to, and you cursed yourself in this very moment for letting him see the breadth of his power over you. You bite your bottom lips. 

On his side, Thomas was too focused on touching, licking, sucking, and fiddling with your breasts. Eventually, one of your buds filled his mouth when you grabbed his head in your hands. You wanted to tell him to stop teasing you, but at the sight of the size of his pupils that had increased by a factor of ten, you stopped in tracks.

Not a single word could leave your mouth. Your eyes then dropped on his delicate lips encircling your bud. "Fuck" You managed to mutter before your face dropped back on the pillow. "Do my girl want me to stop?" His deep voice ignited something in you.

His warm breath sent chills down your spine, and you wet a bit more your underwear. Your hands were squeezing the sheet in an attempt not to explode. "I need you, inside" You lowly speak with urge. Your tone was high pitched, which led to an even more excited Thomas if that was even possible. 

Without losing another minute, he aligned himself, and in one single movement, he thrust into you, a muffled scream dropping from your lips. "Tommy" You sensually muttered. One of your hands reached for his jaw. You fondled it as it clenched. 

You never called him that way out of this room for the simple reason it drove him crazy, calling him by his surname was like pressing the “on” button, and you could never turn him off when that happened, you knew it from experience...

Thomas quickly grabbed one of your legs and folded it against his pelvis, before suddenly thrust youfrom another angle. He was now filling you wholly, His harshness was everything you wanted from him right now, and you let him know your satisfaction by filling the room with high-pitched moans. 

Whenever Tommy was fucking you, you would feel all his love for you that "was burning into his soul" as he would often tell you whenever he drank too much. "Y/N, you'll never know what is fucking burning inside of me" He would begin. "It is you".

You never discuss those words with him when he was sober. You knew he would not admit it. Not that he would deny his feelings for you, but admit it while being sober will make them too real. Too real for him to manage, and that was okay with you.

Yes, he could run a family business, cut people and even be the fucking king of Birmingham, but asking him to get his shit together was something way above his capacities. But you loved him anyway, it was okay for you that way. He could either be the cold, or sober or drunk or mushy Thomas, you accepted everything because it was his way to give you his all. And you signed for it.

You knew precisely in what you put your feet in the very first day he talked to you when he came back. "I know we were kind of 'a thing' before. But everything's different now" Was what he succeed to word after weeks of avoiding you. He pushed you away every time you tried to reach him, but he dramatically failed.

You were well decided to either kill yourself after you killed him if he didn’t stop running away from you. That’s when you told him this that he slowly let you talk with him again, and then touch him again... You knew it was him, you always was aware of how you felt about him, but you never told him. 

Before the war, you would only see each other once a week when he was too bored with Arthur's bad jokes and John's tuff behavior, and now he couldn't even do one night without you by his side. That is why you had to train yourself to fight. Just a little so you could defend yourself. And it was a good excuse for forcing him to let you in his business.

But Thomas didn't want you to be able to rebel too much. He loved to be the dominant, especially with you. Even if when in bed, he would love to see that body of your ride him endlessly. It was pivotal for him to be still able to have some kind of power over you, as he has power over everything else. But he quickly understood you weren’t “anything else” and he had to deal with the fact you couldn’t be tamed.

Tommy searched for your lips. When he reached them, he pleasingly kissed you before sliding his fingers inside your mouth. Your whimpers weren't muffled anymore. He could hear how much you liked what he did to you with your full voice. 

Head dropping backward, your back arching, toes curling as your fingers left marks on his pale skin. He intertwined his fingers with yours and squeezed them. Everything he did was lead by a call. He wanted more, more of you. 

Tom wanted everything out of life with the same way he wanted everything out of you.

That was when you turned him on his back, shifting the position. A hand on his chest, the other one pinching one of your buds, you were now straddling him. Your hips moved up and down as that new angle hit differently. Each of you found only more pleasure. 

His groans were thicker while you didn't even try to stifle your whimpers. Your entire chest was vibing to the cadence of your two body colliding. His hips encountered yours whenever you would drop your body on his. 

Suddenly, an intense wave traversed your whole body, curling your toes. The way he slowed his path, while his hands were still leading your hips down on him showed he was on edge, but your walls clenching around him led him to reach his climax. 

Your body flopped on top of his, making him laugh, even if he was still struggling to breathe.

"What's funny, Shelby?" You asked in a hurry, your head lifting to be able to see his face.

His fingers were gently stroking your arm, whereas his other hand found your cheek. "You and me, we understand each other", He solemnly let out. "Is it a way to tell me you love me, Thomas?" You asked reluctantly. 

You were afraid of the answer. Tommy only looked at you as an answer, and you understood. 

You kissed his lips quickly before sliding to his side and letting your head rested on his bare chest. "I'm with a child” You let out blatantly. “Polly says it’s a boy”

[hughiecampbelle]

Vulcan (Arthur Shelby Oneshot) Pt. 2/12

Character/s: Arthur

Word Count: 1,145

Tag List: @dontdowhatisayandnobodygetshurt @myriadimagines @lilyswritings @encounterthepast @writerdream22 @death-of-a-mermaid @woahitslucyylu @obsessedunicorn24 @thedarkqueenofavalon @fangirlsarah16 @captivatedbycillianmurphy @theshelbyclan @creativemayhems @soleil-dor @thegirlwithoutaname87 @babylooneytoonz @peakyxtommy @locke-writes

A/N: Hello I'm a liar I stayed up v late to write this and I'm too impulsive and impatient not to post it asap!!! I hope this one is as good as the first!!! And makes you want to read more!!! Again this is my first BIG series which is kinda scary considering there was a time I thought I'd never be able to write more than 500 words! Look at me now :D Anyways, be sure to check out part one my loves and I just really hope you like it!!! Feedback is always appreciated 💜💖💜

Gif Credit: @peakycillianblinders :)

FIC MASTERLIST PART ONE. / PART TWO. / PART THREE.

WANNA BE ADDED TO THE TAG LIST?

ROMAN GODS SERIES: Jupiter /Juno / Mars / Vulcan / Mercury / Minerva / Neptune / Venus / Pluto / Janus / Caelus / Apollo

You are no more human than himself.

Nothing, though, more human than mans own emotions. The very things that beat and pound against the cage of his ribs, breaking every bone, tearing through himself in an effort to conceal until he is nothing but ruins himself, until there is no fight left. The very things that rule him. Control and berate his spirits better than any blood could. It's not their words spoken behind closed doors, or the distance they put between themselves, but their expressions. The pity. The disgust. The horror. As if he is less, as if he were mortal. Atop their pedestals they are in power, in control, their true selves hidden behind masks. He lives truthful, exposed, waiting for infection. Begging for it. Few can understand, fewer sympathize, but from the moment you looked at him, watched the lines in his forehead crease, his mouth fall, his entire outward being change, you knew. How could Gods possibly live among their people and not pick up a few habits? Not just the things they mirrored with ease. Joy, sadness, even anger became second nature. He was burdened with more, with complications. Anger became fury, rage, bitterness, even destruction.

They were scared not because they could not understand what it felt to hurt so deeply, to bleed to freely, but because pride lived in him where they felt nothing but shame. Shame for screaming, crying, sobbing. For finding their knees weak, breakable, their spirits broken, their worlds shattering before their eyes. Shame for falling, shattering, letting themselves be weak, vulnerable, human. He was not. Openly, he let these things seep through his words, his actions, carrying it on his back when there was no where else to put it, never daring to put up a front of invulnerability. Gods could be fragile, too.

And just as they could be fragile, they were dangerous.

Not once would he let you forget that.

You never saw it. Not when it was happening. When his arms grew tired, when his back ached, when his eyes saw red. The myths, the stories, the thing of nightmares. Horrifying. Truly horrifying. In his prime, nothing left unharmed, untouched. Pushed to the edge, he didn't just fall, he put on a goddamn show. Sometimes you wished to watch, see for yourself what it was that made others shake, what made them leave everything they had in his name, praying for joy. Sometimes you decided it was better to leave it up to your imagination. You were there after though, ordered to clean up, collect his pieces, hold him together until someone more familiar put him back together again. He trusted you, for what reason you still questioned. Let you get close enough to hush his own unrecognizable sobs, plucking the gun, knife, pipe from his weak hand, wipe the red from his cheek. Still wet. It wasn't a fall from grace, not exactly, but a taste, a glimpse of how fragile ones world really was when immortals lost their grip. Just as they could play nice, offer riches, they could leave nothing but ash in their wake.

Little fires everywhere.

The ruins were magnificent. Shocking, and amazing. Homes unrecognizable. Bodies shredded, anonymous now, without worth. The grass and trees blackened, smoking even as the sun rose, welcoming a new day. You never could get used to the smell of burning flesh, the stinging in your lungs enough to bring tears to your eyes. The clouds grey, moody, as far as you could see. A reminder, as if the unsettled silence weren't enough. All that's left is the quiet cry of the crackling fire, weaker and weaker with every passing second. He could not bear to look. A man gone blind in his rage. You'd seen it enough with the mortals to know. Humans had a funny way of wanting to protect themselves, their psyche, even at their most destructive. Funny, and odd. He possessed these same traits. Weakened by what he's done, exhausted, there is not another threat of this for a long time. But when it comes, because it always does, he'll scorch the new earth, this new life, without hesitation.

Sometimes, it's not an outward cry, but inward. A gun to his head, the metal kissing his temple goodnight. The rope around his neck, soft against his skin. The booze sweet, tempting, making his steps light and careless. Someone is there before it's too late, before there is no God left, easing him off the ledge the way they think they'll always have to. This you do not see. You do not hear. This is kept among gods, another secret they are sworn to, another thing they can use against one another. But you know, as you would. And again, you understand. Stitched across his features. A crime not yet committed. In due time, he promises, without a single word, and you believe him. Succumbed to his emotions. He does not berate them, or belittle, but joins them, knowing, despite how much it hurts, how beautiful they really can be.

Something none of them could begin to understand.

All of this is worth the euphoria, the tears of joy, walking the thin line between elation and madness, even if it only lasts one second.

Lower on the ranks, the impoverished class, fresh blood, sent to do the work no one else wanted because you had no other choice. Unlike the rest, he was eager to join, to help, anything to rid himself of his own guilt, gain back the respect he's lost. A glance is all you share. That of secrecy. Those moments, where he is shattered, the source of so much heartache, kept between you. Not out of personal gain, for leverage, but because you, too, have found yourself the cause, not the affect. The rest underestimate, overlooking, never meeting your eyes, but he is careful. He doesn't know, none do, but he is one of few who see man and God all the same. Strengths and weaknesses. Pain and suffering. Love and war. A multitude of pieces, each worthy in their own right of respect, of understanding and patience. One is not only their mistakes, their faults, all the things that keep them awake at night, just as they are not only their vigor, their vitality, all the battles they've won. They are all of them, and more, things he cannot even see, nor begin to comprehend. So, he looks you in the eye, as he does the others, regardless of who they take orders from.

As long as he's concerned, with that cap, you're one of them. The rest of the family, they differentiate, they seclude, they draw a line right down the middle. Us and them. Worthy and unworthy. Those that decide and those to be disposed.

Not Arthur, though.

He is different.

[panharmonium]

@once-and-future-gay​ asked: 

how do you think will would react to how merlin treats mordred were he alive??

Okay, I LOVE this question.

And my honest answer to it is that I think if Will were alive, things would never have gotten to a point where Merlin felt like he needed to treat Mordred like that in the first place.

(more details under the cut, because this got long!)

The reasons why Merlin ends up in a place where he is able to make those kinds of cold decisions about Mordred are obviously super complex.  But in the end, I think most of it comes back to the fact that by Season 5, Merlin has come to see himself as a tool.  The ultimate fallout of Merlin being constantly told about his role in Arthur's life is that he comes to see himself as an instrument of destiny, not a person in his own right.  His life isn't his own.  He has no inherent worth, no inherent self, just a purpose to fulfill.  His life was always earmarked for someone else.  His value, in his own mind, is inextricably tied up with whether or not he can succeed in his mission.  He doesn’t think he is allowed to have more than that.  He doesn’t think he deserves to have more than that, frankly - every time he tries, something terrible happens.

This isn’t the case, earlier in the show.  In the early days, Merlin still has hopes and dreams for himself.  He still longs for a day where he can be known for who and what he is.  He still chafes at having to hide.  He still thinks he deserves better than what he has.  He's still invested in his own life, as a person who is worth something just by virtue of existing.   But as time goes on, those feelings start to slip away.  He's still fighting, but for other people, not himself.  He stops asking Gaius, "When do I get to reveal myself?"  He doesn't expect that to ever happen now.  He starts defining his worth as how well he can fulfill his “destiny,” and stops seeing himself as a person in his own right.  He's been told so many times that his life belongs to someone else - that his only reason for living is to serve a higher purpose - that he now believes it.  And that makes him more willing to do things (in service of that destiny) that he would have balked at when he was younger, before he lost his sense of selfhood, before he became just a tool to ensure that events unfolded as they were “supposed” to.

In the earlier seasons, we see Merlin defy Kilgharrah's directives on multiple occasions.  He saves Mordred.  He forces Kilgharrah to teach him how to heal Morgana, even after she's been revealed to be a traitor.  He's not yet willing to do things he feels uncomfortable about to bring about “destiny.”  He still thinks things can be better than that.  But as time goes on (read: after Will dies, and especially once Lancelot is also dead) Merlin becomes so isolated from anything that isn’t The Mission.  He has no “real” friends anymore.  Which, as I've discussed before, isn't to say that he doesn't have meaningful, caring relationships with other people, just that every one of those relationships is, for him, undergirded by the knowledge that the friendship is conditional - aka, “if they actually knew me, they would hate me.”  He has nobody to meet his most elemental need for connection - to be seen and loved for who he is - and by the later seasons, Merlin has been deprived of that kind of care for so long that he just stops trying to find it anywhere anymore.  Every time he has had somebody to love him like that, it has gone horribly, terribly wrong, and by the time we reach S5, Merlin just feels like it's better for everyone if he stops feeling these "selfish" desires for real companionship and just focuses on the job he's meant to do, no matter how painful it is for him.  It doesn't matter if he's miserable, as long as he's be able to bring about the better world that has been promised.

Lancelot is able to serve as a buffer against this, briefly, while he’s alive.  His presence is a huge part of why Merlin is so happy in the S4 opener.  Finally, Merlin has a friend to know him, to share his burdens, and everything is changing for the better.  Arthur is basically running the kingdom, and it's only a matter of time before he actually becomes king.  Traditions are already changing, by Arthur's command - now Camelot's most respected knights are commoners!  The Crown Prince is publicly courting a servant!  This is a moment where Merlin really feels that the moment he has been waiting for is right around the corner.  He thinks they're almost there.  He has so much hope, at the beginning of Season 4.  

And then Lancelot dies - for Arthur - and everything starts spiraling.  Lancelot dies on the altar of Merlin's destiny the same way Will does, and that breaks something in Merlin.  He stops trying to make things better for himself.  “Destiny” is going to take everything from him anyway.  He gives up and accepts that the only worthwhile thing he can actually do with his life is to make sure that Arthur lives to create the better world that has been promised, and that he himself is always going to be alone.

And then Merlin is alone, for the next three years.  And that's who he is when we meet him in S5 - disillusioned, desperately isolated, all of his personal needs subsumed for far too long.  The only thing keeping him afloat is his mission, and he will do anything to make sure it succeeds, now, because if he starts doubting it, then that means that everything terrible that has happened has been for nothing.    

And this is really why I feel that having Will around would change things, to a degree where I honestly can't imagine we'd ever wind up in a position where Merlin would have been self-abnegating like this for years, or would have allowed Kara's execution or told Arthur to reject magic just to ensure that Mordred would die (TO BE CLEAR - I'm not putting the blame on Merlin for what Arthur decides to do in 5.05.  Arthur's a grown man; he's seen enough to have more nuanced opinions on sorcery by now).

Will is just....I know he was only in the show briefly, but his presence in Merlin's life was so much more important than that one episode, and his ABSENCE is more disastrous than is made apparent on the surface of things.  Will is Merlin’s anchor.  He gives Merlin something that Merlin cannot access from anybody else, Lancelot included.  He is the only person in Merlin’s orbit who is not somehow connected/beholden to Arthur and Camelot.  All of Merlin's other friends become knights, or become queen, or are deeply invested in Merlin's destiny and the emergence of Albion (eg, Gaius).  Every single relationship Merlin has is with people who are committed to Arthur and Camelot in the same way that Merlin himself is.  He has nobody to tell him “this is wrong; you're sacrificing too much,” because everyone he knows is on the same page as him.  All of his companions are sworn to die for the realm.  Will is the only person whose existence reminds Merlin “you mattered BEFORE you went to Camelot and got this magical homework assignment from the gods.  You were just as much of a person back then.” 

Will is the only friend Merlin has who links him back to his original self, who connects him to who he was before destiny buried its hooks into him.  Merlin in S5 has been so alone and so put upon for so long that he believes his only purpose in life is to be an implement of destiny, but Will, if he were alive, would throw a fit every time Merlin started saying things like “his life is worth a hundred of mine” or “I was born to serve [Arthur].”  Merlin might think he's a tool and that his life doesn't matter outside of its ability to usher in the new world, but Will wouldn’t tolerate that attitude.  Will would tell him you are NOT a tool; you are a person, one who likes to read and whose favorite fruit is apples and who gets the hiccups when he eats too fast.  You don't have to do everything somebody tells you to just because they told you to do it.  That's the kind of wrong-headed thinking that got my father killed.

Will would never let Merlin arrive at a spot where Merlin felt like his life and his principles were disposable or worthless in comparison to the success of the “mission.”  And Will would never let Merlin get away with doing questionable things in the name of keeping Arthur alive, either.  Will, in canon, is the person who serves as Merlin's moral compass - in 1.10, Will is the one who's telling Merlin “it is WRONG for you to consider letting all of these people die in order to keep your secret safe.”  Even Merlin's own mother won't tell him that - when she realizes that Merlin is planning to use his magic to help during the battle, she tells him not to do it, despite the fact that there is literally no way the village can defeat Kanen without Merlin's help.  She advocates for Merlin to protect his own secrets, even at the expense of other people's lives.

Will, though.  Will refuses to compromise.  Will wants Merlin to be safe, too, but not at the expense of what makes Merlin who he is.  Will KNOWS that sacrificing others for the sake of his secret isn't what Merlin really wants to do.  Will knows Merlin is better than that.  He tells Merlin to smarten up.  He tells Merlin to do the right thing.

So like - having Will alive would change things for the following two reasons: 1) Will, in canon, is the person who tells Merlin “you deserve better than this,” and 2) Will, in canon, is also the person who tells Merlin “you ARE better than this.  you can do better than this.”  I don’t think Merlin would have made the same choices with Mordred if Will had been present for the previous five seasons, because Merlin would never have fallen so far into the “i don’t remember who i used to be and i can only see one purpose for my life now” hole.  Will would not have let him get to that place.

Possibly more importantly - I honestly think if Will were alive, we might never have ended up in a position where Merlin had to make choices like that about Mordred in the first place.  Will living would change the entire story.  Now Arthur doesn’t just get to sweep the whole “oh man an Evil Sorcerer died/almost died saving my life; that really challenges my worldview; hope I don't have to think about it too hard” issue under the rug, like he does in canon.  He’d have to be confronted with that continuously, every day.  And he would not be able to just project his anti-sorcery beliefs onto Merlin like he does in canon, either - he would know that Merlin's best friend is a sorcerer, and that Merlin continues to stand by said sorcerer even after the sorcery itself has been revealed.  

In canon, Arthur and Merlin avoid this topic forever, and I think Arthur honestly tries to forget it ever happened, because it's easier for him and makes him less uncomfortable, but if Will had lived, they would have been forced to deal with that friction every day, and Arthur would have been constantly confronted by the cognitive dissonance of “sorcery is supposedly evil, but how can it be, when this guy so obviously is not?”  

Will being alive would mean Arthur had to confront his prejudices sooner, because a) I fully believe alive!Will would have eventually followed Merlin anywhere, even to Camelot, and b) once he was there, Will would absolutely have kept up the pretense of being a sorcerer.  He would never have allowed Merlin to be endangered by him abandoning the ruse.  So Arthur would have had to deal with that, and honestly, I’m not sure Camelot’s policies on magic wouldn’t have already changed by the time Mordred showed up again, in this timeline.

There’s one other thing that I want to be clear about when it comes to any question that deals with Merlin’s interactions with Mordred (or many of Merlin’s late-season decisions, to be honest).  

The way Merlin ends up dealing with Mordred is obviously something that we all are watching the screen being like "IF YOU WOULD JUST BE NICER TO HIM EVERYTHING WOULD BE OKAY."  Even before I finished Season 5, I typed up my thoughts/worries/predictions, and I said that I was concerned Merlin's behavior was going to be the thing that ultimately created the exact future with Mordred that he was trying to prevent.  We all know it's a messed up situation.

But I also personally find it absolutely imperative to recognize the unique situation Merlin is in, and that Merlin doesn't react this way to Mordred just for the hell of it, or even because he wants to.  

This is something I want to make sure I address, because when talking about the potential for alive!Will to have changed Merlin’s behavior, it’s too easy for the discussion to be framed like “Will would be able to stop Merlin from doing all those stupid/irrational things, like mistrusting Mordred,” and it’s also VERY easy for the discussion to slide into, “Everything that happens at the end of BBC Merlin happens because Merlin was so consumed by how much he cared for Arthur that he was willing to sacrifice everything to keep Arthur alive (and perhaps Will could have snapped him out of it).”  But I want to be very careful not to give either of those impressions.

There are two things that I am dead set on remembering when I think about any and all of the decisions Merlin makes, including his decisions about Mordred: first, that Merlin does not suspect/reject Mordred (or support/protect Arthur) in a vacuum.  And second, that he doesn't do either of these things solely on Kilgharrah's advice, either. 

Merlin, on a personal level, does not want to be in conflict with Mordred.  He still relates to Mordred as kin, even at the beginning of the Disir (“It won’t always be like this.  One day we will live in freedom again.”)  He LIKES Mordred, even, he tells Gaius.  But when he says so, he expresses it like this: “I like him myself - but I can't ignore what I saw.”

To get into this in a little more detail - why does Merlin struggle with Mordred in the first place?  Because he's been shown that Mordred is going to be instrumental in Arthur's death.  And why is Merlin fixated on preventing Arthur's death?  Because Merlin has been told, by multiple magical and/or godly powers, that Arthur is the key to establishing peace in Albion and returning magic to the land.

This is a non-negotiable point for me when I read things about Merlin's decision-making.  I've written plenty myself about the messed-up place Merlin gets into in S5, where keeping Arthur alive at all costs has overridden every other aspect of his better judgment, but it is ESSENTIAL to me that we recognize that this is not something that happens solely because Merlin has a personal attachment to Arthur.  He does care deeply about Arthur, obviously; he loves him - but that is NOT why Merlin in S5 is slipping into the murky waters of “save Arthur no matter what, even if it means doing things that go against my conscience.”  His decision in the Disir - any decision he makes about Mordred, quite frankly - is not made because of a selfish, personal desire to keep Arthur alive.  It is made because Merlin has been told, repeatedly, from all corners of the magical world, that keeping Arthur alive is the only way to establish peace in the world and liberate magic.  And thus, by the time S5 rolls around, Merlin will do anything to achieve this, even things that seem on the surface to be working against these goals.  He does not make his decisions because he is choosing Arthur OVER his people's liberation, but because he has been told that choosing Arthur IS the way to his people's liberation.

Merlin does not develop his obsessive fixation on keeping Arthur alive because his personal attachment to Arthur becomes so strong that he's willing to just let the rest of the world burn.  He develops it because he has been told that Arthur is the key to creating a world where all people can be free.  And it is ESSENTIAL to recognize that Merlin is not foolish for believing this, either.  He isn't just listening to some random dragon spout nonsense at him.  He has literal gods speaking to him, calling him by the name the Druids gave him and telling him his “time among men is not yet over”; he still has work to do.  Druid prophets show him the future (Mordred killing Arthur) and urge him to “alter the never-ending circle of [Arthur's] fate.”  Alator recognizes the legend Gaius speaks of as true and immediately offers Merlin his support.  Bendrui like Finna (aka the remnants of Morgana's own sect, the High Priestesses) offer Merlin the assistance of further prophecies and tell him “without you, Emrys, Arthur cannot build the world we all long for.”  The Catha pass on “ancient knowledge” about Arthur's fate that they've guarded for hundreds of years, in the hopes that it will help Merlin save Arthur’s life.  The Fisher King recognizes Merlin as Emrys and tells him “I have been waiting all these years for the arrival of a new time: the time of the Once and Future King” - and then he gives Merlin the means to enable Arthur's victory in the S3 finale.  

It's not just Kilgharrah telling Merlin about Arthur's destiny.  It's the wider magical world - and bits of the divine world, too.  Merlin is not stupid, gullible, or deluded to believe that Arthur's role in the prophesied future is true.  It IS supposed to be true, in the Merlin BBC-verse.  (And, once again, this is why the finale is, narratively speaking, garbage.  But that's a topic for another day.)

All of that said - the fact that Merlin has legitimate reasons to believe what he believes and fight for Arthur's survival does not mean that every single sacrifice he makes in the name of achieving that goal is necessarily the only way he could go about things, and that, I think, is where Will being alive would have made a difference.  Will, who loves Merlin more than life itself but does not care about Arthur or Camelot at all, would be a counterbalance to all the messaging Merlin receives about “destiny and Arthur over everything.”  Will would have pulled Merlin back from the brink, with his stubbornly honest, “All right, so you have to do this, but not like this.  Listen to yourself.  This isn't you.  This isn't the you I know.”  

I don’t think anyone else could have done that for Merlin.  Even at the very end of the show, after Merlin has been in Camelot for years, Will is still the longest-running relationship Merlin has ever had (excepting his mother, of course).  Will is the only relationship Merlin has that both predates Camelot and isn’t even slightly concerned with Arthur Pendragon’s well-being.  Will is the only one who isn’t beholden to Arthur or sworn to serve Camelot.  Will is the only person who cares about Merlin instead of Arthur, not along with Arthur.  Merlin has other people who love him, yes, definitely, but Will is the only one who says, “You, over everything else.  You are the only thing on the map for me.”   

The part Will played in Merlin’s life is not something that could be performed by somebody else.  That loss is a hole that cannot be filled, even by other people who know Merlin’s secret.  The history is unique.  Merlin can’t just grow up again with someone else.  Will was irreplaceable; the role he fulfilled in Merlin’s world was singular.  Without his influence, Merlin is perpetually off-kilter.  

Merlin needed someone like that in his life.  He needed somebody to balance out the perpetual focus on Arthur+Destiny, which all of his other relationships encouraged, to varying degrees.  The perpetual focus on Arthur+Destiny is what ultimately led Merlin to make the kind of decisions that he made with Mordred, but if Will had been around to push back on that, then I can’t imagine that things would have unfolded in the same way.

[juminly]

Love Written in The Stars

Summary: When Leonardo only thought that he would look after you as a guardian, as a friend. He never expected to fall so deeply in love with you. Matchup story written for @meverilan​. 

Note from Leonardo: “I dedicate this song to you, mi amore. It made me think of you and I hope you enjoy it and always know, you are more than enough to me.” - You are Enough by Sleeping at Last. 

You were very lucky to find yourself in the mansion at a time where most of the residents were out and about except for a few. Arthur was in the city, playing detective; Vincent was in the gardens, painting away; Theo was doing some gallery scouting; Napoleon had managed to forcefully convince Jean to join him in teaching the orphans in the city some self-defense.

Comte always takes it upon himself to take good care of his guests and he always ensures to do so. Thoroughly. There’s also the fact that Sebastian also acts as his sharp eyes and ears so you had two guardian angels watching over you from the moment you arrived, without you even knowing it. While Comte showed you around, you discovered all the historical figures that were living in the mansion. It was all too surreal and daunting but obviously, you still managed to plaster a smile on your face.

While walking through the hallways with Comte, you heard a low husky voice calling out to him. “Didn’t you have something important to attend to, Mr. Le Comte?”

What was this tall man (quite respectfully flirtatious man, if I may add) talking about? Comte actually had something to attend to and he put it on hold and disregarded it because he wanted to be there for you. (Isn’t he just the perfect gentleman? Come on…)

The vampire had called you “a refreshing beauty”[in Italian] the moment he saw and the blush on your face didn’t go unnoticed. That was enough for him to register the fact that you were quite a shy one, in his mind.

Leo is quite the observant type and empathetic, so just a few glances at you, he was able to take a few mental notes on you [and they were 99.9% accurate, most of the time, if not, all the time]. He also noticed the slight wavering in your eyes that indicated that you didn’t truly believe what he said.

[Men had a way of whispering sweet nothings into people’s ears, only to use them as a means to an end. Was he that type? You didn’t really know him so you couldn’t tell, but it didn’t mean that these thoughts didn’t/wouldn’t cross your mind.]

Leonardo came to the rescue, sweeping in and picking up where he basically persuaded Comte to leave because whatever business he had was important and his best friend knew. After introducing himself to you, the Italian polymath took over and that’s where your story began.

At first, the smell of his cigarillo was quite strong but it had an inconspicuous sweetness to it that was quite delightful. He asked you if you were bothered by it, not knowing if you would be or not, since he found your eyes focused on the smoke he puffed from his lips. The scent was oddly comforting and added some sort of mysterious and alluring coat to his aura.

As you wandered the mansion with him, Leonardo took it upon himself to give you a thorough briefing about the residents, not that you didn’t know of them, but interacting with historical figures was a completely different story and he knew that (especially when they were all vampires).

He was able to get your attention by promising to let you in on the biggest secret of the entire mansion (after your tour ended). Even Sebastian didn’t know this secret.

The location of Theo’s stash of sweets was the biggest mystery in the mansion and Leo was the only person, aside from Theo, who knew where it was (and the younger Van Gogh was unaware of this fact). [Best ice-breaker ever!]

That man was probably the biggest sweet-tooth beast of Paris. Leonardo probably said something along those lines and it kinda reminded you of the cookie monster, which made you giggle when you met Theodorus for the first time, a day later (and the man was awfully confused and did not understand why you reacted the way you did).

Being part of the rowdy breakfast with the other residents was sometimes a little bit too much to take and draining as well, since a lot would be happening at the same time but it was a great opportunity for you to observe and understand more about the residents, piecing together the information that Leo had given you with your surroundings.

Arthur was his usual flirtatious self and getting on his bestie’s (Theo, obviously) nerves. Their banter was joined by the commentary of Dazai, the annoyance of Mozart and Isaac and Vincent, the angelic presence whose smile managed to brighten up your day almost instantly. Since you were the new person around, they couldn’t really hold back on all their questions to you, which was actually pretty overwhelming for you.

Leonardo was always there for you though, stopping them in their tracks whenever things became a little too much for you. [and this did not escape Arthur’s attention. He has a keen eye for human behaviour, being a former physician and he had vast knowledge about how the human body worked and coupled with his analytical side that came with being a writer].

You hadn’t given Leonardo any indication about how you felt or how you were but he didn’t have to. From the first few days, Leonardo became the closest person to you and you assumed that it was because he looked after you, the way he would with a little sister. He could only imagine how hard it was to be thrown in the past, into the unknown.

So when you confided in him and told him about having ADD, he simply nodded while you talked, giving you the space and time to explain whatever you were comfortable in telling him. He respects your boundaries and was fine with whatever you were able to tell you. He didn’t push for more. When you were done talking, he smiled and told you how he was curious to know about you and he wanted to make your time in the past, as pleasant as possible [until you had to go back to the present].

It was a vow that he declared to you, with the purest intentions. He was a pureblood after all, each and every human he came across was worth admiring and you were definitely one of them. Why did he think that way? He knew that you were shying away in an invisible cocoon and he was standing right outside of it, his hand outstretched, just for you to take it. Every second, every minute, every hour of a human’s life counted and he wanted to make sure that you wouldn’t regret not having done anything whatsoever during the time you had in Paris.

The more time you spent in the mansion though, you became a little more acquainted with the residents and felt a bit more comfortable around them, as they became a part of your daily life. Living in the same mansion made you all like roommates and somehow, they all looked out for you like you were family. 

Being a jack of all trades, most of the residents looked up to Leonardo as someone they could rely on, to go to when in need. He had such a carefree and laid back attitude, which made him approachable by all and many. You noticed that, not only with the residents, but also the townspeople.

Leonardo had told Vincent about a beautiful land he had discovered while wandering the outskirts of Paris one day and decided to organize a trip to spark the painter’s muse. Leo obviously invited you to come along and it was definitely a relaxing and insightful outing. You had the chance to watch, none other than THE Vincent Van Gogh, paint so masterfully, while being surrounded by the most beautiful of views in all of France: a large field of greenery, with tulips and daffodils.

It was like staring into a canvas, created by nature and Vincent wasn’t the only one that felt inspired. Leonardo brought along a drawing notebook just for you, where he gave you tips and instructions on how to go about sketching and analyzing the overall form of your sketch subjects before looking into the more intricate details.

He was an amazing teacher, his instructions were simple yet very clear and concise. He also gave you constructive feedback, even leaning in to adjust parts of your sketches while holding your hand, the sweet scent of his cigarillo would fill your nostrils, almost distracting you completely from your task. And even if it did, Leonardo would chuckle and tease you, bringing your attention back to the task at hand with a kiss on your hand.

The first time he did that, you couldn’t help but be completely surprised and taken aback. But you knew that he wasn’t the type to try to take advantage of you or anything, so you would laugh it out and throw in a sarcastic remark, which only made the vampire boom with laughter [which, if I may be frank, is such a wonderful sound, you wouldn’t be able to resist not laughing along with him].

That outing was more lengthy than you thought it would be and you ended up staying out until late at night, when Vincent was inspired by the night view of another area which you happened to cross while heading back to the mansion.

You were immediately captivated by the clear night sky, the stars twinkling and inviting you to simply marvel at them. And that only prolonged your time together even more. And right then and there, a new ritual was created.

For 12 consecutive nights, Leonardo recounted to you the story behind each horoscope and where their stars were located, telling you about the tales from Roman and Greek myths and started with the story of Scorpio and the Greek myth of Orion, the son of Posiedon and Euriale.

He didn’t mind repeating himself as many times as he had to and was not bothered by it, one tiny bit. If you flooded him with questions, he would answer each and every single one of them. Leo was not the type to get annoyed at all so you were always relaxed and comfortable around him.

He loved seeing the expression on your face as it lit up as the information and inspiration would sink in. Knowledge was a beautiful thing in itself, but it was even more beautiful when shared with others. With Leo, it was oddly intimate, especially with the mix of emotions that came with interacting with him.

Your night escapades of tales of myth and astrology (and art, because Vincent would sometimes join to do some painting) became even more interesting when Isaac began to join you as well. He looked up to Leonardo as a mentor and often wanted to dig and dive into the man’s brain. He was a genius of his time yet so humble about it.

Isaac would bring his telescope with him and give you an even better view of the stars blinking at you from the wide dark skies. Astrology was also one of his interests and despite being known for always wanting to be alone, the man secretly liked sharing his interests with those who were genuinely fascinated by it.

Soon after, Isaac also became close to you. He felt comfortable around you and just like Leonardo, didn’t mind it when you asked him questions or when he had to explain things to you that could be a little bit difficult to understand. [Leo was also there to translate since he would sometimes use overcomplicated terms]

Isaac was quite fond of you, especially when you would ask Arthur and Dazai to stop teasing him about apples. The physicist obviously told you that he didn’t really need you to stick up for him but he was definitely pleased about it, the hint of a smile touching his thin lips.

If you ever got a panic attack with Leonardo around, he would wrap his arms around you from behind, lacing his fingers with yours and placing your hands over your heart. Whenever you cried, he would be there with you until you cried it all out. Whenever you shook, he would be there to hold you together and find your center of gravity.

He never made you feel restricted, his hold was always loose so you didn’t feel suffocated. He offered you the comfort and the solace you needed without you having to ask him for it and would speak to you so softly, almost crooning, telling you all the words, all the things that you needed to hear, as if he could read your mind. He could tell that you were often very hard on yourself and he was prepared to remind you, time and time again, as many times as needed that… you are and will always be enough, just the way you are.

Towards the end of the month, everyone was suddenly counting down the days until you would leave. Nobody mentioned it but you could definitely feel it in the air, sense it in their gaze. Some of them actually asked you to stay but in the end, it was all up to you. You had already made up your mind but something deep down made you hesitate. Lots of emotions were building up inside of you and yet, you still managed to draw a smile on your face. However, you weren’t really fooling anyone.

The residents had planned a farewell party in your honour, a few days before the door would open again. Comte had arranged for you something to wear on that evening and you were more than flattered at the gesture. The man never missed a single detail and made sure that you always felt welcomed, even when you were leaving. As did Leonardo.

Leonardo came to find you, to escort you to the party only to open the door to your bedroom, his heart clenching hard in his chest at the sight of your tears.

You were crying your eyes out and he couldn’t think of any reason why you would cry. Maybe you were afraid of going back to your time? Going through the door?

He asked you whether there was something that bothered you in the design of the clothes that you were wearing. He noticed you were looking down at yourself, fisting the fabric hard in your hands. That was when you discovered that he designed the apparel just for you, to your exact liking, which made you cry harder.

When you told him that there was no issue with the clothes, they were perfect and beautiful, tailored, stitched and created just for you.

Leo: Cara mia, if it upsets you, you do not have to wear it. I promise, you would look beautiful in anything you wear. You: No, that’s not true. Look at me! How could you even say that? Leo: Lan… I am looking at you, cara mia. I have been looking at you ever since you arrived and you are absolutely and utterly divine.

You: Don’t say that just to flatter me. Please. I don’t need lies.

Leo: If I could give you my eyes so you could see through them, then, I definitely would. Unfortunately, I am not physically capable of doing that but I have something else in mind. You’re coming with me, Lan.

Before you even had the chance to say anything, he took your hand and whisked you away, finding yourself in his room. Letting you sit on his bed, he handed you a notebook and asked you to open it. They were all sketches of you and you couldn’t believe your eyes. You went through them one by one and realized that Leonardo was no liar and he proved it to you. As you looked up at him, he cradled your face in his hands and laid the lightest of kisses on your lips. He didn’t have to say anything. The notebook and that kiss were more than enough to show how much he loved you.

He would also come up with new nicknames for you just because he loved to see you blushy and get flustered (don’t forget all the Italian romance with “mi amore” and “cuore mio” that would literally make you melt with that voice of his). He adored seeing the flush on your cheeks and teased you about wanting to paint them red always, in every single way he can (wink wink).

This man had absolutely no qualms in whispering  suggestive notions in your ear whenever you were in public, challenging you and giving you a greater reason to get over with whatever you were doing, so you could relish in the love this man had to offer you.

He is fine with small displays of affection in public, however, not too much of it though. He always holds your hand or had an arm around your shoulders or your waist, keeping you close to him whenever you were out in town. He wouldn’t hesitate to tease you or just simply kiss you whenever he felt like it. However, the different expressions you would make when he would passionately kiss you, the small sighs and whimpers, those were all for him and he didn’t want anyone to hear them or see them.

Whenever he got jealous, you would immediately know it from his eyes and the tone of his voice. He was definitely not the type to let his emotions take over but whenever any other person was being a little too friendly with you, he did not appreciate it. And if you were the one to encourage such behaviour from another, he would have a “discussion” with you about it in the bedroom.

Kisses of affection: he loves to smell your hair and kiss your temple.

NSFW Ahead ~ 

Your first time, Leonardo would do everything possible to make you as comfortable as possible. How it started? You were cuddling in his room with Lumière and just having a calm night together, just chilling with the candlelight surrounding you as he held you in his arms while you sketched.

He absolutely loves having his hands on you, like almost all the time. He kinda gets clingy like that. You had been at it for a while and the man wanted some attention from his lover so he tickled you, making you laugh your heart and giving him your full attention. He was kinda like a cat, which was actually adorable.

Finding yourself on your back, you were met with his smoldering gaze and he locked your lips in a breathtaking kiss, his hands gliding over your form, making you melt under him. He could feel and see the hesitation in you but he didn’t let it stop him. Why? He knew exactly how to make your worries wither away.

Leo was a vocal lover, not in terms of moaning/groaning (and FYI: he is usually all rough grunts and groans), but in terms of communicating with you when he was intimate with you. He told you every single thing he loved about you, praised you and repeated it, over and over again, etching it into your mind that he saw only you, loved only and wanted/desired nobody but you.

He wanted to know, see and feel all of you so he could show you the depth of his love for you. As he undressed you, he kissed every bit of skin that he would expose, leaving you completely breathless, with unshed tears of happiness burning in your eyes by the time he had you completely naked under him.

He actually had no intentions of taking you that night. He went down on you, making you come multiple times, using those skilled hands of his and that silver tongue (literally and figuratively). It was only when you pleaded to him and told him that you were ready that he gave in, his vampire instincts completely overpowering him, his need to feast on your blood and claim you were the only things he knew, in that moment.  He took you slowly and as gently as he could. He could never bear the thought of hurting you.

In the beginning of your intimate relationship, Leonardo was very gentle with you but after a while, he became a little bit more rough with you, but not in a way that was uncomfortable for you. He was experienced enough to know when you were reaching your limit and assessing what you were able to take and what you couldn’t. He is a very attentive lover and is all about making sure you are satisfied before he is. To your dismay, as much as you tried to put him first, he valued your pleasure more than his.

He always made sure that you were thoroughly made loved to/fucked, a physical and emotional reminder that you were his and he wouldn’t think of any other.

What he absolutely loves doing to you: Light bondage. Just tying you up and maybe blindfolding you (only if you were comfortable), heightening your senses. He likes to make you a complete and utter mess, making you unable to talk and after a while, unable to even walk. He’ll have you forget everything in the world and remember only his name.

He talks dirty and it is completely filthy, it has you whimpered and flustered and he just lives to see you like that. He doesn’t play fair and he doesn’t play on doing it anytime soon. Your pleasure is his reward and he’ll tease you by saying that he’s a masochist, and he likes to draw out his own pleasure, and your pleasure is his. (believe me, it’s all worth it in the end)

Places he loved drinking blood from: your neck (especially when he’s making love to you).

Favourite positions: any position that you are most comfortable in. However, he loves seeing you a complete whimpering mess under him. That’s the most beautiful sight to him. 

[nephilimsarchive]

If only you knew (pt.3) | Arthur Fleck x reader smut

Summary: You hadn’t seen him in a while after your last meeting, but fate always seemed to find away to bring you together.

Note: im so sorry this took so long, hope you like it!

Warnings: nsfw content under the cut, don’t read if you are under 18, lots of swearing, unprotected sex, public-ish sex

Word Count: 4937

Read the first part here.

Second part here.

Arthur woke up early the next morning, slowing adjusting to his surroundings as sunlight shone into his eyes. You had been on his mind all night long. He could see you so vividly, soft (h/c) hair falling onto your shoulders, lidded (e/c) eyes staring up at him through flushed cheeks, and that breathtaking smile. You had absolutely bewitched him, occupying every second of his dreams since nightfall.

He was so caught up with the image in his head that only then he noticed that the bed he was laying in wasn’t his, and the weight on his left shoulder wasn’t usually there. He lazily turned his head, wanting to savor every second of this marvelous dream. His jaw collided with something soft, eyes shooting open at the realization.

He was awake. And you were there. With him.

His arm was slung around you, hand on your waist, cuddling as if you were lovers. Soft breaths made their way past your plump lips, the expression on your face one of pure peacefulness. He had wanted to fight the urge to kiss you, but ended up gently pecking the top of your head anyway. Try as he might, he couldn’t escape his emerging feelings for you. Actually, they were growing with every minute he spent gazing at your sleeping form, drawing small circles on your waist with his thumb. He had never met anyone quite like you, and it was scaring him. Never had he been exposed to such kindness, you didn’t judge him like so many other people did. Then again …you didn’t know about his condition, you didn’t know much about him at all. Neither did he, you could have a boyfriend, or worse - a husband. You didn’t know he was earning money as a clown, and you didn’t know how damn much he adored you after one single night. What if this was nothing but fun to you?

A bitter feeling spread through his chest at the thought, but his lips curved into a smile. Oh, he knew what was coming, and how much he hated it.

He tried to untangle himself from your embrace swiftly, making you shift and sigh. His chest heaved as laughter bubbled up inside him. “Stay.”, he heard you mumble, voice sleepy. Lips tightly shut he ignored your plea, making his heart ache. He picked up his clothes as quickly as he could, trying to get out before he could startle you with one of his uncontrollable fits. Getting into his pants he clasped his hand in front of his mouth, cursing his illness for what must be the millionth time. He would’ve loved to spend more time laying with you, it was too early to even stay up. But he’d be damned if he woke you up with this, seeing the horror in your face as you’d surely question your decision to spend the night with him - or even talk to him at all. Unwanted laughter escaped him even before exiting your flat, and he could only hope you didn’t hear.

If Arthur leaving your side didn’t wake you up yet, the door falling shut after hearing him chortle surely did. You turned onto your back drowsily, tired eyes staring at the ceiling while you pondered if you should’ve gone after him. But you didn’t. Instead you were lying awake, at 5 in the morning.

—

The days since Arthurs and your last meeting were fairly uneventful. In fact, you hadn’t seen or heard from him at all. Whenever you were at university Arthur was home, and whenever he was at work you were back. One day you were sure you had heard him in his flat, but your knock on the door had been ignored. Some people would say he is trying to avoid you at all costs, and frankly, they’d be correct.

Now, he didn’t at all intend to be like this, but to say he was overwhelmed with the whole situation would be an understatement. There were so many questions and emotions in his head that he had to sort out. When he entered his flat that morning he swore to himself that he’d find a way to explain his condition, and that he only left because he didn’t want to disturb you. He’d say that he’s absolutely smitten with you, for plenty of reasons, and then he’d ask you out.

In his head, he played out this scene a thousand times. He thought about what to wear, and thought about whether he should give you chocolates or flowers. But when it actually came to doing what he had planned, something held him back. Even though he knew you tried to reach out to him, years of negative experiences of not being cared for discouraged him. Not to mention the fact that Arthur never had any sort of romantic relationship, and thus only could try to impress you with what he had seen on TV.

Penny had noticed immediately that something within him changed as he came back that morning. He had told her about you, of course not in more detail than necessary, and she knew how much he felt for you with the way he spoke. His eyes shone as bright as stars and the corners of his mouth curved upwards whenever your name was mentioned. She saw him then, standing in front of the small mirror in his bedroom, in that outfit he had laid out days ago, fixing his hair.

No doubt he was going through what he wanted to say to you in his head. “Happy.”, she exclaimed, the tone of her voice soothing “Just go, she’ll say yes.”.

He saw his mothers reflection through the mirror, pondering what she said. Then he thought about you, about how accomplished he would feel if he did this - a smile crept across his face. He kissed Pennys forehead and strutted out of the flat.

—

A small box of chocolates was stowed in his bag as his hand reached out to one of the buttons of the elevator, then to his hair to smooth it out. He had saved up for the occasion, not enough to buy one of those fancy golden packages with more flavors you could count, but a decent one nonetheless.

Just then you were coming back home, your (f/c) dress flowing in the breeze, feeling shivers run down your legs. Having to pick up a pace as you saw the elevator doors sliding shut, you were barely able to squeeze through the remaining gap.

And there he stood. Arthur.

His hair was perfectly in place, he wore black dress pants, a jacket and beneath that a simple white button up. Truthfully, he looked amazing. Both of you were surprised at whose company you found yourselves with. You wanted to ask him whether you had done something wrong, whether you had pressured him into something he didn’t want. You wanted to make him feel like he can talk to you, trust you even. Anything that sounded like you weren’t as hurt by his behavior.

But no words made it past your lips. You just stood there, staring blankly at the elevator doors.

Arthur couldn’t believe his eyes as you had stepped in. Your hair was up in a ponytail, a few thin strands had fallen out because of the wind. A pretty (f/c) dress ended just above your knees, showing off your gorgeous figure in all the right places. You looked like an angel. Beautiful, intimidatingly so.

He had expected you to say something, but you stayed mute. The seconds went by agonizingly slow as his hands grew sweaty around the handles of the tiny bag he was carrying. Before, you were so wonderfully outgoing and open with him, and now he had rendered you to this state.

Only then he noticed how you must’ve blamed yourself for his actions.

Even the tiniest scratching sound the elevator made seemed louder than usual, when suddenly it came to the same unsteady halt the elevator always made, signaling that you would be up soon.

Something inside Arthur switched, there was no way he was going to let this stupid elevator, or his stupid illness destroy what he had spent all week preparing and rehearsing. He knew he’d regret if he let you walk away. So, without thinking twice, his elbow crashed onto the emergency button. You jumped, shrieking in shock as the machine stopped any movement completely, lights turning off. A dim lightbulb flickered to life - you could barely make out Arthur. He was walking towards you in the strobing light, determination in his eyes that you had only seen from him once before. He stood in front of you, bringing his hands to your cheeks before pulling you in to kiss you deeply.

As your lips touched his you felt complete again. He lingered on the softness of your skin, but broke away too soon. The kiss hadn’t been long, but held emotions words cannot convey. Gently, he rested his forehead against yours. A blush surely would have been visible on your cheeks if the lighting was better. He opened his eyes to find you looking up at him, the wild look in his eyes was gone as quickly as it came. As if he was constantly between stuck two extremes, an angel and a devil on his shoulders.

„I’m so, so sorry.“, he whispered, „I never meant to make you feel bad, or ignore you.“ Cautiously, he took your small hands into his, rubbing circles over your knuckles with his thumb, thankful that you didn’t pull back.

He told you about his condition, about his doubts, and about the fact that no matter how hard he tried to fight it, there is always a part of him that thinks he isn’t deserving of the affection you gave him - or that you simply didn’t mean it. He explained that he left so his illness wouldn’t ruin the one thing that seems to bring a sense of happiness to his life. You. He meant you.

You felt tears forming in your eyes, both from feeling honored and not wanting to hear him talk about himself like that. A staggering amount of - dare you say love? - built up inside your chest. He noticed your tears, and just like that all of his personal worries were replaced by concern for you.

„Are you alright?“, he asked. You nodded and pulled him into a hug, savoring his closeness as he ran his hand down your back soothingly. Stroking his cheek with your thumb, you glanced into his eyes, “Don’t you dare even for one second think that I’m just playing with you, or that you don’t deserve love.“, you brushed away your tears, voice growing more and more steady with each of your words, „You’re the most kind-hearted man I’ve ever met. I like you for you, I like how much you try to always do the right thing. I love hearing you laugh, I love being close to you. I don’t care if you’re older than me, or if you don’t have a lot of experience with relationships. There’s something incredibly romantic about that, actually. And I couldn’t be any happier that you trust me enough to let me be your first..“.

A short silence engulfed you. Then he beamed, a genuine expression of joy on his clean-cut face. „If that‘s the case.. There is something I‘ve been wanting to, uh, ask you anyway.“. He stepped back attentively, picking up an item you hadn’t noticed was there. Inhaling and exhaling deeply, he looked you over and began „Y/N.“, another big breath, „I have never expected to meet anyone who is as nice to me as you have been.“, his certainty crumbled for a second, then he smiled again. „You are the most stunning woman I have ever laid my eyes on, and I‘d be more than honored if you wanted to go out with me.“, shaky hands handed you a box of chocolates, which - to his luck - was your favorite candy.

Contemplating whether he messed up the small text he had come up with his stare was fixated onto the ground before him, too shy to be able to see the grin on your face. You adored how much effort he put into this. It was obvious how much he was trying to do this properly, after your rather unconventional start.

You stepped closer to him, tilting his chin up with your fingers. „Of course, Arthur. I‘d love to.“, you said, pecking him on his lips sweetly. Pulling back, you studied his features, breathing in his scent as he held you close. The look in his eyes was soft and loving, the ghost of a smile on his lips. “You have no idea how handsome you are, do you?”, you stroked his hair absentmindedly. The response to your question was an alarmingly red blush on his cheeks, his eyes blown wide. He had never, ever gotten complimented on his looks before. You giggled and pressed a kiss onto his nose.

You stood like that for a while before you took a step backwards. You properly assessed the situation;  you were stuck, and had no idea when any help would show up. Arthur seemed to realize that, too. “Well, what are we going to do now?”, you queried, looking around you for inspiration, and finding none. “We can’t have our first real date in a brittle elevator.” He laughed at that, leaning onto one of the walls, his arms crossed. Looking you over he licked his lips subconsciously. Being with you made him feel much more secure in so many ways. Above all, he felt like he could fully be himself. To the extent that it brought out parts of Arthur not even he himself had known until then. A cocky smirk lit up his face. “I’d have an idea.”

You raised your eyebrows while he was taking off his jacket, throwing it into a corner. You were fully aware what he was talking about, but ready to challenge him. “Oh?”, you hushed, propping yourself up on the wall opposite him, “And what might that be?”. His long fingers rolled up his sleeves, keeping his eyes on you.

The grin on his face never faltered while he took two big confident steps towards you, placing one of his hands next to your head. Heat radiated off him in waves as he stood in front if you, towering over your smaller form and tilting up your chin just like you had before. “I don’t think you’re in the position to act coy, little one.”, he growled, peeling you out of your coat „In fact, last time you made the naughtiest of sounds for me.“.

The way he spoke sent shivers down your spine, and he knew that.

His hand reached your waist as his head moved to your neck, he trailed kisses from the shell of your ear to your neck, sliding down a strap of your dress to reach that certain spot on your shoulder.

He had paid attention, taking note of every tiny detail that made you melt under his hands. When he drew back you grabbed his collar, crashing your lips onto his. Desire and hunger controlled you as your tongues danced. Arthur took complete control of the kiss, unspoken permission in each of your gasps. His kisses were desperate, verging on starvation as he bucked his hips against you. You moaned at the contact, hands tangled into his hair, which - combined with your dress sliding up your legs ever so slightly - resulted in a low hum from your lover.

His cock was hard as he ground himself against you, a familiar wetness spreading between your legs. He shifted, tilting his head to test out new angles, tasting you until you finally broke away.

“Arthur..”, your voice sounded alien to yourself. He had you wrapped around his finger in no time, and he loved it. Just once, he did what he wanted, not thinking about the consequences. His eyes travelled over your body, lingering on your chest. The buttons that held your dress closed over your breast were tensioning with every breath you took. The motion of your chest rising and falling provoked him to slither his fingers up your hip to your stomach. Feeling his knuckles ghost over your hardened nipples you released a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. You watched as delicate fingers popped open one button after the other, not daring to move. A sharp intake of breath rang in the silence of the room when it was just enough for him to be able to see your bra.

He took in the sight before him. Red laces graced your full cleavage, the fabric tensing over your nipples while you rubbed your thighs against each other subconsciously. Noticing your doings he pushed a knee between your legs, keeping them apart.

„Tsk, tsk.“, he scolded, „So impatient, so eager.“ His left hand pinched your nipple, making you whimper in delight. Slender fingers brushed under the edge of the lacy cloth, exposing you to him as his right hand began kneading your other breast. He came even closer to you, intentionally brushing his leg along your slit. „Patience“, he had said, „is a virtue.“ You shivered at how sultry and controlling he sounded, but his antics were a double edged sword. His lips came down, leaving open mouthed kisses all over your breasts. You arched your back, feeling his stiff member twitch as he left little bites and marks. His hands wandered over your body freely this time, not holding back whatsoever. Becoming aware of the cold air on your skin you groaned out his name again.

„Hmm?“, his voice vibrated against your sensitive skin as he groped your breasts. A wicked grin was on his face as he drew back, pupils blown wide. He cocked his head to the side. „What is it that you want, kitten?“ The nickname he chose went straight to your clit. Even though you felt powerless to his touch, you loved this side of him, and you wanted to show him just that. He was confident, dominating, and so very sexy. If all he wants is for you to say it, then you damn will. You held his stare confidently, biting your lip as you tried to sound as seductive as you could „I want to suck you off.“

Your request caught him off guard and pulled him back into reality. For a second, he couldn’t phantom how you wanted to put his pleasure before yours. All of his thoughts were wiped away as he saw you drop to your knees before him.

Rubbing your hands against the cloth of his pants his breathing accelerated. His eyes were glued to your movements, hardened member reacting to every little of your touches. The noise of his belt unbuckling sounded horribly erotic in your presence, aching cock finally freed. You took him into your hands, gently stroking at first. He was rock hard, like steel wrapped in silk. Precum leaked at the tip of his member and you licked your lips. Holding the base of his cock, you looked up at him through your eyelashes as you gave a long lick along his shaft. Arthur shuddered and moaned, throwing his head back in the process. Finally taking him into your mouth his hips bucked towards you, his body reacting on its own accord.

A string of curses, praises and your name fell from his parted lips, fueling your need to pleasure him. You picked up a pace, running your skilled tongue along the lower side of his member. “Fuck, Y/N.”, he rasped, his words laced with pleasure. One of his hands grabbed your ponytail, “That feels so good, babygirl.”

In any other moment he would’ve felt awkward about the way he was talking to you, using phrases and names he had picked up elsewhere. But right then, he didn’t give a shit about anything other than the way those pretty lips of yours felt wrapped around his cock.

You felt him thrust into your mouth, juices pooling between your legs. You wanted release, wanted to touch yourself to loosen the ever tightening knot in your stomach. But you didn’t, and instead focused on Arthur alone. He was sweating, panting and rocking his hips towards you cautiously. You knew he was probably trying to hold back, scared of hurting you. So you looked up at him, waiting for him to return your gaze. When he did, you met his thrusts, deepthroating him until you felt your nose touch his pelvis. A strangled roar escaped him as he was completely overwhelmed with the wet muscles engulfing him. The grip on your hair tightened as you kept him in your mouth. Tears strung in the corner of your eyes, then you finally released him with a loud pop.

The way you stared up at him then was intoxicating, disheveled hair, perky tits falling out of your bro, a string of saliva connecting your swollen lips to him. Usually, he would have been concerned about the gagging sounds you had been making, unsure about how watery your eyes looked. But his mind was hazy, smothered with immense pleasure.

His hands on your face guided you up, craving your touch too much to let you go for long. You stood in front of him while he - with a surprising amount of carefulness - wiped away the tears that had formed in your eyes, brushing away a loose strand of hair. You could make out the ghost of a smile on his face before his lips were on yours again. He begged for entrance impatiently, groaning as he tasted himself on your tongue. His hands suddenly grabbed your bottom, bringing you up against the wall as you gasped. Your dress hiked up, pooling around your hips. One of your hands searched the surface of the railing to hold onto, pushing yourself closer to him.

You were thankful for the way he was holding you, not having to worry about keeping yourself up as his erection pressed onto you. You rocked your hips towards him involuntarily. Arthur moaned at how soaked you were, his breathing getting progressively heavier. The thin layer of the underwear you wore was the only thing separating him from your aching core. He pulled away from the kiss he had ben roughly holding, staring at you like he was admiring his prey.

He freed one of his hands, slowly moving it to your panties. Rubbing teasingly slow circles over your most sensitive area he cooed, “Shit, little one. So wet for me, hm?”. You nodded obediently and his fingers immediately moved faster. “That’s right, Y/N.“, a tingling sensation built in your stomach at the pressure of his fingers, just enough to have you go crazy, not enough to get you off. He must’ve sensed your desperation. „You want me to fuck you?” He demanded, knowing the answer fully well.

„Yes, please.“, you breathed wantonly.

“Good girl”, he praised, tearing off your panties and ripping them in the process. You shrieked, pleasure and shock in your voice as his boldness made you feel hotter with every passing second. You held onto him for dear life as he rubbed the tip of his painfully hard member against you.

He pushed himself inside then, both of your moans filled the small room immediately. Going slow at first he pulled out of you completely before slamming back into you with full force. You screamed at the inseparable mixture of pain and pleasure, the knot inside you pulling tighter with each of his thrusts. The feeling of him inside you was better than anything you had ever experienced. Arthur was panting, „Fuck, Y/N. Just like that.“. His endurance was rising with his need to please you. He was pounding into you like a machine, steady and forceful. Working your body flawlessly, he brought you closer and closer to the edge. By now you were moaning an incoherent mess of words, but Arthur loved it. Fuck, it was the sweetest sound he had ever heard. Determination boosted through him, wanting to feel you come undone for him. „Argh!… Ar… Arthur!“, he could make out his name between lustful groans, „I’m going to..“

You couldn’t finish you sentence before the knot in your stomach exploded, a feral scream breaking through you. Pleasure was seeping through your whole body in waves, filling you with far more sensations than you were possibly able to process. Arthur shuddered at the sound, not once stopping his motions. The picture in front of him was the most appealing thing he had ever seen. He rode you through your orgasm, strands of hair sticking to his sweaty face, all of his focus on you.

Arthurs hips slowed down at some point, and you started shaking from the way he was keeping you in your position, forcing you to endure the endless mixture of pleasure and torture he brought upon you. „Ah, Arthur. I..“, you tried to voice how intense this feeling was, how you felt your juices drip already, but you couldn’t. He wanted to keep up the expression of pleased desire and nonexistent self-control in your eyes. Hell, if it was his choice he’d always see you exactly like this. Legs spread, shivers raking over every inch of your body, his name on your lips, pleading him.

Gradually, you came down from your high, but you didn’t get too far.

By now he was more than willing to find out just how much he can unravel you. Oh, he was zealous. His firm cock was still inside you, feeling your hot walls clench around him as he kept up his motions. Slowing down to an agonizing velocity, he pulled himself in and out, driving you insane as a new orgasm built up inside of you.

You almost felt dizzy as his fingers found your clit again, drawing circular motions on your swollen bud. Your mind was clouded with arousal, it almost felt as if you were watching the whole scene from afar. His thumb felt deliciously rough against your slippery skin, your eyes meeting his as he opened his mouth to speak. „I want you..“, he whispered as he continued penetrating you a little faster, moving to your neck and biting, „To come for me, again.“

You trembled in both fear and anticipation as he dominated you. He pounded into you harder again, building up a reckless speed. You were unable to grasp a single clear thought, the overstimulation taking over your body. And your body did what it only could, it reacted, it obeyed. Your back arched as one of his thrusts left you seeing stars, hitting your g-spot. Without inhibition you were calling his name, as he hit that devilish spot over and over again.

His breathing got more and more ragged, nonetheless he kept up the motions on your clit, slamming himself into you with all the force he could muster. Heavy-lidded eyes gazed at him as he repeated your name, both of you getting alarmingly close to the release. He lost the rhythm he had been keeping up, heartbeat soaring through his chest as he paid attention to his hand on your soaked cunt, going faster, merciless. „Come for me.“, he grunted, „Now.“. Just like that, you broke.

A deafening cry you didn’t know you were capable of tore through you as your walls tightened around him. He tripped over the edge at the same time, your orgasm causing his. Passionately he growled your name. You could sense his member jerk inside of you, spilling his seed deeply into you.

Arthur lingered just like that for a moment, buried deep inside of you, feeling the voluptuous combination of both of your fluids trickling down his shaft. With you, he felt like he was on top of the world. He finally pulled out of you, letting you down slowly, steadying your wobbly stance. Only then he noticed how strained his muscles were. By that time you were finally, slowly coming back on earth, noticing how the air around you had turned damp. Little drops of water ran down the fogged mirror beside you.

You felt like you had run a marathon, both of you catching your breaths like idiots and smiling dopey at each other. Brushing your hand over his chest to his cheek you noticed how his stare was directed to the box of chocolates he had given you before. You wouldn’t be surprised if they had started melting by how warm it had gotten. Arthur seemed to have the same idea, both of you erupting in giggles.

Suddenly, the light flickered again as the elevator sprung into motion. „Shit, shit, shit.“, he cursed as you tucked yourself into your dress, fixing your hair as much as you could. Arthur hastily picked up the remains of your panties, stuffing them into his pockets. A loud „ding!“ signalized that you made it to your designated floor, alarmed expression on your lovers face. You smiled at Arthur reassuringly, sashaying out of the elevator with his hand in yours like nothing happened.

Either you were oblivious to the distraught stares of the small group of people who greeted you outside the elevator, or you just didn’t care. You just turned your head towards him, satisfied grin playing on your lips.

Right then he knew, you would be the death of him.

[joseph-mazzellos]

THE OCEAN OF YOUR EYES | PART ONE

Happy birthday, Ana! I love you!

Word count: 2.1k

Character: Arthur Barone x Original Character (Inspired by a friend)

The sun was high in the sky, making this one of the hottest days of the year. There should have been a rule against playing baseball when the temperatures could have melted the rainbow sprinkles off the ice cream faster than the time it took the D-Backs to grab it in their hands to start their pre-game ritual, but there was something between those boys and baseball that not even a scorcher like that day could have broken. Ty was already pacing back and forth in the dugout, worried that half of his players hadn’t yet shown up, whilst the other team was already stretching out in the field. They had never been the most professional team in the league, but somehow - with a little luck and a lot of help from Maz’s impeccable record, they had managed to make it to the semi-finals this year as well. Ana had never cared much for baseball, it was never a very popular sport back home, but ever since she had met Emily she had slowly learnt how to appreciate the game - or at least, how fun it was to watch a bunch of guys hit very small balls and shout a bunch of words she didn’t fully comprehend. Since Emily was engaged to one of the guys on the team, and she was the sister of not one, but two of the players, she really didn’t have much of choice of where to spend her Saturday afternoons, but it had started being slightly more bearable ever since Ana had agreed to join her and keep her company on the bleachers. They were definitely not the Yankees, so there were rarely more than a handful of people sitting there with them, but Emily always made sure she brought a little banner to encourage her fiancée Vinnie, who wasn’t exactly the best player in the team.

“Oh good, looks like my brother is already losing his mind”

Emily said, waiving in the direction of the dugout when she caught Ty’s eyes, but he was too distracted by something to wave back.

“We better hope and pray that they don’t get to the finals, then. The stress alone might kill him.”

Ana smiled at her friend, gaining a small laugh as she distractedly looked for Vinnie behind the metal fence.

“Losing is just not something I do, baby girl”

Ana didn’t even have to turn around to know who was talking to her, and she made sure she turned to face him before rolling her eyes, not wanting to let him think for one second that he had an effect on her.

“If only you could hit as well as you can bullshit your way into conversations, Barone, you’d be the first team in the league”

Ever since the first day he met her, Barone had been intrigued by Ana. It wasn’t only the fact that she was one of the most beautiful girls he had ever seen. Her dark chocolate coloured hair fell perfectly on her back, long enough to fall right above another feature that he hadn’t failed to notice from the first day. Her eyes were a shade of brown lighter than her hair, and he had thought he had never seen eyes as bright as hers. When he first introduced himself to her, he had broken up with his girlfriend only a few days before. That felt like the perfect opportunity to meet someone knew, and he had never seen a rebound like her before. She had the potential to become one of those few things he was passionate about. Little did he know, though, that she wasn’t going to make it easy on him at all. When she straight up rejected him, giving the D-Backs something to laugh about for a whole week, he had found himself even more intrigued by the incredibly beautiful girl going to every one of his games, but not giving him the time of day. They had started this game, where he would say something to annoy her just to see her eyes roll and a proud smile form on her lips at her usually witty retorts.

“I could always show you other things I am very good at”

He moved his face closer to the fence were she was standing and she promptly pushed his face away from her, her tiny hand barely covering half of his face. She felt a shiver at the contact of her hand against his stubble, pulling back quickly as she brushed off the sensation as annoyance.

“Why don’t you go stretch, playboy. I wouldn’t want you to get hurt... By someone other than me.”

She gave him her best fake smile, and he took it in and metaphorically put it in his pocket to revisit later when he was alone. He still needed to work hard if he ever wanted to be on the receiving end of one of her real, brighten-up-the-whole-room smiles, but for now this was all he could hope for. He just responded with a smirk, as he started walking backwards towards the dug our where Ty was about to pop a vein in his neck as he tried to call him.

“He sure is persistent.”

Emily said, with a small smirk, looking at her best friend.

“He needs to take a hint.”

“I don’t know. Sometimes I feel like you enjoy your little exchanges more than you let on. They make the games way more exciting.”

Ana roller her eyes again, it felt like everything she was capable of doing when the subject of the conversation was Barone.

“I think these games are exciting enough with all those lunatics.”

She teasingly said, desperate to change the subject as she started thinking that maybe her friend knew her better than she cared to admit. She had been hanging out with a few guys in her class at uni, and they all seemed pretty interested in her, but she never got the little spark of excitement when talking to them that she did when Barone was around. It didn’t help that he was undeniably, objectively gorgeous. She needed to focus on the grass at her feet whenever she was trying to prove to him she was unbothered by his advances, cause whenever she caught a glimpse of those blue eyes she understood a little better what all those girls throwing themselves at him were talking about. The truth was, she hated only knowing the first layer of a person. It was the reason why she had only a few really good friends that she would do anything for, and not a lot of acquaintances. She needed to know someone deeply, create a connection with them, be able to understand them. It really bothered her to know that she only knew that side of him that he wanted everyone to see. She shook herself from the train of thoughts she had boarded, and she came back to reality just in time to hear the whistle of the referee mark the start of the first inning.

-

Ana’s ears were still ringing from all the shouting she and Emily had been doing during the game - good shouting when the D-Backs got a hit, or they managed to run back to base, bad shouting full of profanities when the other team scored or the referee made a bad call against the boys in red. Everyone had started dispersing and Ana was looking at her phone distractedly as she waited for Emily to reappear with Vinnie, who was meant to drive them home. She was hoping to go home and take a really long shower to wash away all the dirt from the clouds of sand that the wind and the players had sent their way during the game before they met at Pat’s house to celebrate their victory. Ana had never been one for parties, but she was learning to feel comfortable around the boys and the few friends she had made through them. Plus, Em had basically begged her to go.

“You sure sounded like a little sailor during the game.”

How could she have hoped to have missed him leave? It was almost as if he had waited for her to be alone. He rested his arms on the fence, resuming the same position they were in just a couple hours earlier, as if he was trying to imply they needed to pick up the conversation where they had left it off. She ran a hand through her hair and pushed them back, casually noticing his eyes follow the movement as if he was trying to memorise it.

“Let me guess, you only like girls who say pretty please and wash your uniform for your next game.”

She tried to push his button, not knowing enough about him to be able to really comment on what he liked. So far he only seemed to really like her body and to annoy her.

“Quite the opposite, darling. I do like girls with a mouth on them. Sure, most of the time they don’t use it to insult me...”

Ana caught a glimpse of his blue eyes and felt the need to grab ahold of the fence with both hands, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of showing even the slightest sign of attraction to him, but he took that as an invitation to move even closer, so he moved his hands on the fence, each hand laying right next to hers. She could feel the warmth of his fingers against hers even if they weren’t properly touching. She needed to say something, or run away. She decided to go with the one that did not make her look like a crazy person.

“I think you might have gathered I am not one of your little cheerleaders.”

“Oh. Believe me. You’re very different.”

His tone made it sound as if it was a very good thing, but she was sure that he had nothing against his little groupies, he sure made sure they were well taken care of when they were there. Not that she had noticed how he would flirt with every single one of them every game, anyways, she had better things to think about.

“But you still root for me, though.”

“I root for the whole team, you could be sitting on the bench the whole game and I wouldn’t even notice you’re gone.”

He laughed, bringing one hand up to his face and stroking his stubble with one hand before setting it back down right next to hers.

“Interesting. I always notice when you’re gone.”

Ana started to wonder whether it was something he said to everyone or if he really meant it. She doubted he sat in the dug out noticing if she was sitting on the bleachers or not. She ruled it as bullshit in her mind and decided to reply with one of her signature eye-rolls, leaving him with something familiar. She spotted Em with the corner of her eye, and she thanked God the conversation was about to be cut short.

“See you around, Barone.”

She said, turning away from him before she could stare into his eyes again and picked up the pace to join Vinnie and Emily.

“Are you coming tonight, Barone?”

Vinnie shouted back.

“What’s tonight?”

“Drinks at Pat’s. You never come. Ana will be there.”

Ana hit Vinnie right in the chest, and he brought his hands to the spot she had hit very dramatically.

“Sure. It’s a date.”

Barone shouted in Ana’s direction, making her flip her middle finger upwards in his direction and making him smile widely.

“There’s my classy lady again.”

He just said, grabbing his bag and walking in the other direction, excited to be able to see her again, for the first time without a metal fence acting as a shield.

“I would kill you if she didn’t love you so much.”

Ana scoffed as she walked to the backseat of Vinnie’s car, thinking of how she was now very confused about her feelings regarding that night. Was she nervous to see him outside of his D-Back uniform? In a setting that wasn’t so familiar to both of them? Maybe the sand was really starting to cloud her brain.

“I thought you guys needed a little push. Em says you might be good for him.”

Em proceeded to hit him in the same exact spot Ana had just hit him previously, and he let out another dramatic groan, while Emily turned to look at her best friend with a small smile.

“Ignore him. Tonight’s going to be fun.”

[ladyseidr]

I want one headcanon for every muse. :)

@notanoutlaw ( ask me about headcanons )

fkjsaldflds you really answered the call & i love it. okay. so this gonna be under a read more because it’ll be long. inactive muses won’t be done + Simon or Harley because they’re testing muses that i’m considering removing

Maria Lewis

There’s absolutely nothing Maria enjoys more than spending time with her daughter Susan, but, in particular, she enjoys playing outside with her. Once Susan is older and Maria is happy married they have a small garden back behind the house that they both tend to together. It’s all produce and, towards the end, it’s one of the few times during the course of a week where Maria sees Susan happy.

Elizabeth Schuyler Hamilton

When Eliza was little she loved to climb trees. She especially liked to rope Angelica and Peggy into it, although neither was willing to go quite as high as she. Her parents weren’t too keen on it, especially considering she never fully grew out of it. Ask her if she wants to climb a tree and there’s a pretty large chance she’ll say yes unless she’s very, very busy.

John Laurens

John tried to convince his father to let him stay in Geneva longer, and not just for Francis and Louis. For the first time in his life, he had met a small group of people like him. Men who were interested in other men, men in committed relationships with one another. But also he knew he would probably never see Louis again and that Francis wouldn’t return to America for at least another year. At the time he was convinced that they were The Ones.

John “Jay” Church

Jay is never particularly liked by his father-in-law, who sort of sets out to find a reason to dislike him after the elopement. Despite this, he gets along with most of the rest of the family. In fact, he’s very close to the Hamiltons, particularly after the move back to New York. He puts up with Philip Schuyler because he loves Angelica enough to put up with pretty much anything.

Cornelia Schuyler Morton

Cornelia was never very close with Angelica considering how young she was when Angelica married and later moved to London. On the other hand, she was very, very close with her brothers and younger sister growing up. As for Eliza and Peggy? They got along pretty well, although the two sometimes had a habit of babying her because of the severe age difference.

Martha Manning Laurens

Completely not a fool and could pretty much guess that John was, at best, not attracted to her at all, but totally did consider that he might not be attracted to women. She was not particularly in love with him and was more so playing the part of the wife that she learned growing up. She did desperately want him around for his daughter, especially because she was scared to be a single mother in a time so damning to single mothers. But deep down, she knew she’d be lucky to ever see him again.

Margarita “ Peggy” Schuyler Van Rensselaer

Angelica and Eliza both knew about her planned elopement and might have been involved in helping her get out of the house (though she’d never admit it). She went to them in a state of devastation when she realized she wouldn’t be allowed to marry Stephen and they practically fed her the idea. It wasn’t shocking coming from Angelica “literally just eloped with her husband recently” Church and Eliza “will end up planning to elope before her parents even reject Alexander” Schuyler.

Angelica Schuyler Church

I’ve touched on her inability to comfort people many times, but here why: she doesn’t care for comfort usually. No, Angelica needs to solve her problems. How will a hug or crying or pretty words fix her problem? They won’t. Obviously, this is deeply unhealthy and when faced with situations that can’t simply be “fixed” she has a massive breakdown, but that’s another story.

Rachel Faucette

Rachel kept a collection of every little trinket, pretty rock, or other gifts that her sons brought her. It sat all across the top of her chest of drawers in her room. To anyone else, it was useless clutter, ugly. To her, it was covered in the greatest gifts she had ever received… besides the boys themselves.

Alexander Hamilton

Here’s a headcanon that no one on the planet but me has: Alexander had never really been with a man before John, in any sense of the word. He didn’t even really recognize his attraction to men as an attraction. But between falling for John, finding out John was attracted to men, and then realizing that maybe he didn’t exactly see John as just a friend, it put a lot of his past in perspective.

Anne Boleyn

Historically Anne didn’t necessarily love Henry at first. In fact, she didn’t particularly want his attention at all. She was not inclined to be a mistress and thus there were no advantages to being chased after. She did slowly grow to feel something she considered to be love for him as time went on—part genuine and perhaps part survival. That only made it hurt more when he turned on her so easily.

Catherine of Aragon

In the musical verse Catherine is, naturally, very uncomfortable around Anne at first. She struggles with the entire concept of having been followed by so many women, but she and Anne didn’t end on good terms. The show brings them together, though, and she is actually the first to begin reaching out to heal things. How does she start? She brings Anne an after-show snack one night and silently walks away.

Anna of Cleves

Historically she was actually very close with Katherine Howard despite their short time together. They became close when Anna was still queen and Katherine was one of her ladies, finding in her a companion to match her own German companions. After her divorce and Katherine’s marriage, the friendship remained. Upon hearing of Katherine’s death, Anna collapsed.

Katherine Howard

Historically she was much more politically-minded than thought. She understood that, as queen, she had duties. She was politically intelligent, generous, and empathetic. She was well-liked by those who came to court and harsh judgement came only after the news of her past rang out.

Jane Seymour

Musically she opens up as the realization strikes that she can speak without harm coming to her. She is far from being a “Mom Friend,” actually being sarcastic and fairly snarky. Though still not reckless and very anxious, she learns to speak her mind and damn well does. Often.

Mary Tudor

She had some very, very complicated feelings towards her father. On one hand, she loved him deeply and believed he was owed respected as the King, chosen by God. On the other, she never forgave him for many of his actions, particularly against her mother and her faith.

Arthur Morgan

This is obviously based on my own style of gameplay, but Arthur tends to dress well. It’s not a matter of pride or vanity, but more so because he grew up without nice clothes and didn’t particularly get a chance to have otherwise until he was into his adulthood and able to earn money and keep his share.

Javier Escuella

The knife’s a defense mechanism that he’s only half-conscious of. People are, to be blunt, less likely to fuck with you if you sit around playing with a blade. He used to be worse for it when he first joined the gang, before he trusted them. The knife kept the ones he trusted least or the ones who wanted to insult him (cough Bill cough) at bay, particularly once he proved that he wasn’t afraid to pull it on someone. He wouldn’t have actually hurt anyone in the gang, though, unless they had actually turned on him.

Samuel Farley

Not as trusting and innocent as he lets on, he has plenty of reason to doubt others, particularly in America. He’s Irish and Catholic in a country that, at the time, was very anti both. He grew up experiencing the worst of prejudice against people like him in his own country, his family not even able to own land due to them being openly Catholic.

Rosemary Levine

Rosemary pretends not to be bothered by killing—in fact, she can be overly quick to kill her enemies—but it bothers her. To be wanted dead or alive for murder when she had once been just another daughter of a wealthy, high-class family stings. In many ways, she feels she has less excuse for her actions. And because she feels so damned, she has a lot fewer qualms against committing more sins.

[wee-chlo]

It always breaks my heart to read people talking about how Javier was a traitor or an asshole in Red Dead Redemption 2. He wasn’t an asshole or a traitor. He was a victim.

Javier’s like... my top three favorite NPCs in Red Dead Redemption 2. Javier, Mary-Beth, and Kieran, but Javier most of all. I think that Javier is probably the biggest victim of Dutch’s casual psychological cruelty, the way he (knowingly or not) uses people and creates a cult of personality and adoration. 

Javier tells his story around the campfire in fragments, but his story is heartbreaking and speaks volumes about why he’s so loyal to Dutch. More or less every member of the gang has something of a similar bent: how they were down and out, abandoned or abused or shunted to the side, and Dutch came and picked them up and gave them purpose. Javier, I think, has the most dramatic of them though.

Because while the majority of the gang are victims of society (women, former slaves, Irish), Javier is the only one I’ve heard so far of being so keenly aware of the system and passionately opposed to it. While everyone has their personal loyalties to Dutch, Javier is the only one I’ve heard to have genuine and incredibly passionate loyalty to not just Dutch but the cause.

Javier was a revolutionary, and his story is dark and full of tragedy for someone so young. He’s been witness to violence seemingly all his life; saw men including his uncle fed to pigs for daring to argue for a fair wage, killed a man for a woman implied to have betrayed him, fleeing to America and nearly starving to death. When he talks about his flight to America he’s poetic, and the descriptions are stark and grim. How he fled with nothing but his fear because he had to run so quickly. How he’d been so terrified of being killed in Mexico as he crossed the desert, then terrified of being turned away at the border, then terrified of being killed in America... But in America, he didn’t speak English and couldn’t get money or food, and no one cared about him. So he starved.

When he talks about it, his voice breaks. He sounds like he’s about to cry, or crying already. A man who cared so passionately, so deeply, so furiously that he fought for love and killed for love and fled for love nearly starving to death because no one cared.

And then Dutch showed up. According to Javier, Dutch took him in, fed him, clothed him. Javier has only been with the gang for four years but he speaks fluent, eloquent English and he clearly learned that by being around Dutch and his crew. He says that he misses Mexico but that the gang is his home now, that the people of the gang are his family now. And he credits Dutch for that.

More than anyone else, I think Dutch gave Javier his life back. And in return, Javier devoted his life to Dutch and his teachings, his feelings on society and civilization and wild. Javier was a revolutionary. He was intelligent and passionate and driven. He was aware of how society was rigged against the smaller, weaker masses and I think it was an easy thing for him to latch his own feelings to Dutch’s teachings. 

So when Dutch starts to collapse in on himself, starts to go insane from physical and psychological trauma and loss and certain voices whispering in his ear, Javier can’t argue. He can’t tell Dutch he’s wrong or crazy, not because Javier’s too stupid to realize it or too mean-spirited but because Dutch made himself into Javier’s savior, a central pillar in Javier’s life in America. Javier, as far as he’s concerned, owes everything to Dutch. Dutch gave him a life, a home, a family. And as everything falls apart and the days get darker and John and Arthur start muttering and people disappear into the night and people die, Javier engages in desperate denial. He has to. As Arthur, we don’t get it. It seems like blind loyalty, ingratitude, betrayal. But we see why he has to in Red Dead Redemption.

Because when Dutch’s fall from grace becomes impossible to ignore, Javier’s fall is just as meteoric. His whole world collapses on itself. He betrays everything he once held to be true and good, works for people he loathed as a young man, becomes broken and unwashed in body and soul. Because more than anyone else, I think, he was a victim of Dutch. Arthur dies, but he dies himself. In a High Honor ending, he dies more true to himself than ever, I think. John dies but he stayed himself too, got a few years of happiness and became aware of Dutch’s failings in a way that didn’t cause him to shatter. Bill suffered but ultimately was still Bill. The others managed to get away; some thrived and others died but they got away.

Javier just... broke. 

He was a violent man but he wasn’t a bad one. Everything that Dutch preached, helping those who need helping and freedom and the wild beauty of the west, Javier believed. He loved the gang with all his heart, loved everyone in it, and he loved Dutch. 

Every single person in that gang deserved better but god, Javier in particular breaks my heart.

[verybisexualwriter]

The Sorcerer And The King (merthur)

This fic I wrote was really just an idea that wouldn't leave me alone. I kept thinking about what would happen if Morgana never went evil? If Uther died of natural causes? If Arthur knew about Merlin's magic? So I wrote it. Hope you enjoy!

Arthur felt so stupid for letting Merlin go off on his own. Sure, he was only going less than a mile from camp, but he wasn't a servant anymore, he was the court sorcerer and the royal consort. He didn't have to wash everyone's dishes. But of course, Merlin insisted upon doing it and doing it alone. So Arthur and the knights sat around the fire, watching Morgana's magical hand puppets and laughing like small children. Until they heard a sudden commotion, quickly followed by a piercing scream. “Merlin!” Arthur cried, instantly drawing his sword as he ran in the direction of the scream. Morgana followed, her eyes already glowing a fierce gold. Gwaine, Leon, and Percival followed quickly behind her.

By the time they got there all they found were empty, half cleaned dishes and a small fire, still burning bright. “I'm going after him,” Arthur announced coldly, already heading back for his horse. Morgana quickly grabbed his arm, her thin fingers wrapped firmly around his upper wrist.

“Arthur, we've no clue where he's heading and there's not enough of us for a search party,” she explained.

“That doesn't matter!” Arthur booked.

Leon finally spoke up. “Sire, I believe lady Morgana has a point,” he tried softly, “if we go back to Camelot we can gather the rest of the knights, perhaps even some volunteers. We can cover more ground with more people.”

Arthur sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Unfortunately, I know you're right. We'll ride back to Camelot.”

The knights quickly mounted their horses and began the long journey back to Camelot. Arthur refused to stop and set up camp, though he seemed to be searching every inch of the woods for something.

As soon as they got back Arthur began sending out groups of three knights, sending them as far out as he could manage. He was planning on leading a group himself, but Gwen and Morgana stood between him and the door out of his chambers. “Arthur, I know you how much you care about Merlin, but you still have a kingdom to run,” Gwen tried.

“You clearly don't know how much I care about Merlin! I only told him I love him a month ago! I will not rest until he's found!”

Morgana rested a hand on her brother's shoulder, sighing softly. “I can't prevent you from worrying, but I can tell you that if whoever took him wanted to kill him, we'd know by now.”

Arthur sighed, quickly brushing a single tear off his cheek.

“And I can most certainly tell you that Merlin isn't the type to give up easily. He'll fight as hard as he can to get back to you,” Gwen added, her eyes never leaving Arthur's, “and he can't come back to you if you die searching for him. He'd want you to stay here, taking care of Camelot. We all know that.”

Arthur finally gave in. “You two are right. Merlin would want me here. But if there's any sign of him, I'm going out there.”

The two women smiled. “I'll be leading my own group, and know I'll be the first to tell you if I see anything,” Morgana promised.

“Speaking of, you'd better go or Gwaine and Percival might leave you here,” Gwen teased.

“Like they'd last a second without me,” Morgana giggled, pecking Gwen on her cheek before grabbing her sword and hurrying out. Arthur, even in his horribly depressed state, couldn't help but bite back a smile. Gwen and Morgana we're perfect together.

A week went by painfully slowly, and each day a different group sent Arthur a message via carrier pigeon, but everyone came up empty. Until Leon came riding up to the castle gates one morning, his companions nowhere to be found. Arthur ran out to meet him. “Leon! What's going on? Have you found him? Where's sir Gregory? Lady Eva?”

“Their still stationed in the forest. But I returned because… we think Merlin's still alive.”

“Truly?” Arthur asked, his blue eyes suddenly becoming two shades brighter.

“Yes, but you may need to sit down for this,” Leon warned.

“Leon, I'm the king, I can handle whatever it is you have for me.”

With a shaking hand, Leon handed Arthur a tiny bundle of red material. Arthur instantly recognized Merlin's neckerchief and tore it open. He almost threw up.

Inside the pouch was a bloodcaked, cold, human eyeball. A sky blue eye that Arthur instantly recognized as Merlin's. Suddenly, horror became a toxic mixture of rage and deep concern. “Where did you find this?” He asked, his voice cold and emotionless.

“Two miles east of the Gold River, lady Eva and sir Gregory are searching the entire area.” Leon explained quickly.

Without needing a word, a servant hurried to get Arthur's sword and horse. Arthur told everyone that Gwen was in charge until he returned, then mounted his horse and sped off, Leon trailing behind him. On the way back to Leon's camp, they gathered Morgana and her group, explaining what Leon had found as they rode. Morgana used her own magic to search for another magical essence, the knights riding with their swords drawn in case they came across anyone.

As soon as they got to the Gold River they began searching on foot. Morgana suddenly cried out to Arthur. “Arthur, there's magic here! I think it's Merlin, but there's someone else too,” she explained, following an invisible trail.

Arthur signaled for the other knights to stay where they were while he followed Morgana on her twisting, invisible path. “We're getting close,” Morgana mumbled, picking up the pace. Arthur followed only inches behind her as her dutiful trot turned into a full on run.

Morgana came to a sudden stop in front of the wide, jagged mouth of a cave. A sudden, sickening shriek emerged from it, and Arthur shoved past Morgana and sprinted after the sound. “MERLIN!”

Morgana chased after the king, calling after him in hushed whispers. She managed to catch up to him as he came to a screeching halt. She very quickly realized what caused him to stop so suddenly.

There was Merlin, horrifically bruised and battered, caked in blood, and supported only by the iron shackles keeping him suspended from the cave ceiling. Suddenly, Arthur snapped out of his daze and ran to Merlin. Merlin instantly flinched, his eyes squeezed shut. Arthur felt like someone stuck a hot knife in his heart and twisted it. “Merlin,” Arthur whispered, “it's me. It's Arthur.”

Slowly, Merlin opened his eyes, revealing one bloodshot blue eye and one empty, bloody socket. It took him a second, but he focused in on Arthur, then started sobbing with joy. “I-I thought you'd given up on me,” Merlin rasped softly.

Arthur smile sadly, gently cupping Merlin's freezing cheek in his calloused hand. “I'll never give up on you Merlin. Now let's get you out of here, you're cold as ice. Morgana, little help?”

Morgana hurried over, her eyes glowing gold as she wrapped her hand around the lock on Merlin's shackles, which fell open after only a second. Merlin knees instantly buckled from underneath him, but Arthur managed to catch him and gingerly lift him up into his arms. With one last suspicious glance around the cave, Morgana led the way out.

They walked as fast as Arthur could without jostling Merlin too much, getting back to the other knights in record time. Leon asked Morgana a handful of questions while Percival and Gwaine helped Arthur get Merlin onto his horse. “Don't you find it odd that no one was guarding Merlin? They went through all this trouble, then leave him alone. It doesn't add up,” Leon sighed.

“I was thinking the same thing,” Morgana replied, “we can discuss it further later. Right now, we need to get Merlin to Gaius.”

While the knights mounted their horses, Arthur pulled Merlin even closer to his chest while sitting atop his own horse. “Arth,” Merlin mumbled sleepily.

“What is it love?” Arthur whispered.

“Cold,” Merlin replied, his eyes drifting shut again.

Arthur quickly removed his cloak and wrapped it tightly around Merlin's shaking shoulders. “Better?” The king questioned softly.

Merlin nodded as he laid his head back against Arthur's shoulder. Arthur smiled and pressed a soft kiss to Merlin's forehead.

The ride was long, as Arthur insisted upon riding slower so Merlin wasn't jostled too much, but they managed to make it back just after sundown. Arthur quickly carried Merlin down to Gaius’ chambers, but Gaius refused to let Arthur stay while he took care of Merlin, insisting that he go rest. Arthur sighed and rolled his eyes, but stomped upstairs to his chambers.  

Morgana returned to her chambers immediately after they got back, flopping down into a chair in full armor. Gwen smiled from her perch on the bed before standing and scurrying over to Morgana. “I heard you found Merlin,” Gwen purred, gently peeling off Morgana's chainmail, “how is he?”

“Honestly? He looks awful,” Morgana sighed, “but I think he'll pull through, his energy is still very strong.”

A smile tugged at the corners of Gwen's lips as she knelt in front of Morgana to help her out of her boots. Morgana smiled, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of Gwen's head.

Meanwhile, Arthur was pacing nervously in his quarters. He wasn't sure how long he'd been pacing, but he didn't sit down until his feet began to ache. He tried to look over some documents, read, even just start a fire; but he couldn't manage any of it. He barely managed to take off his own armor, his hands fumbling and shaking worse with each movement. A sudden knock on the door startled him, but he told whoever it was to come in.

Leon shuffled in and held the door open, and Gwaine and Percival hurried in behind him, carrying a sleeping Merlin on a stretcher. Arthur immediately stood. “How is he?”

“Gaius said he should be alright with a few weeks of rest,” Leon explained, “he wanted to bring Merlin himself, but you know how busy he gets this time of year.”

Gwaine and Leon gently transferred Merlin into Arthur's huge bed. Arthur seemed to pale when he saw all the bandages wrapped around nearly every part of Merlin's body, and Gwaine slapped his hand over Arthur's shoulder. “He's stronger than he looks, Arthur. He's going to be just fine,” Gwaine promised.

The knights quickly made their way out, and Arthur took a seat on the edge of the bed next to Merlin, gently taking the sorcerer's hand into his own. He stared down at the clean white patch of cotton secured over Merlin's empty eye socket. It made his blood boil. He wanted to go out and rip the head off whoever did this to his precious Merlin. He had just begun to stand when a low, weak groan fell from Merlin's lips. “Love? Are you awake?” Arthur asked softly.

Merlin's exposed eye slowly cracked open as he nodded wearily. He opened his mouth to speak, but Arthur hushed him before he could get a word out. “Don't speak, you need to rest,” Arthur explained as he poured Merlin a goblet of water. “Drink,” Arthur mumbled as he pressed the goblet to Merlin's busted lip.

Merlin happily obliged, quickly draining the large goblet. Arthur quickly refilled the goblet, but this time made Merlin drink from it in smaller sips. “Don't want you wetting the bed tonight,” Arthur teased. Merlin didn't even try to stop himself from laughing, and Arthur couldn't help but press a soft little kiss to the tip of Merlin's nose. A soft blush filled Merlin's pale cheeks.

Merlin patted the empty side of the bed beside him, and Arthur instantly peeled off his boots and climbed in behind Merlin. Merlin snuggled close to Arthur, his head pressed into Arthur's neck. “Are you comfortable?” Arthur mumbled.

Merlin nodded sleepily.

“Do you need anything? I can get whatever you desire.”

“A kiss,” Merlin mumbled.

Arthur chuckled. “Really, Merlin? I'm the king of Camelot, I can get anything your heart desires, yet all you want is a kiss?”

“I want nothing more than your love,” Merlin replied, leaning back to stare up into Arthur's eyes, “at least for now. Maybe I'll want some fancy foreign fruit in the morning.”

Arthur laughed as he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to Merlin's lips. Merlin smiled, wrapping his arms around Arthur's neck. Arthur took that as his cue to pull Merlin in even closer, though he was careful with Merlin's injuries.

They laid like that for so long that they lost track of time. Arthur didn't even remember falling asleep, but he was suddenly jolted awake by the squirming and groaning boy beside him.

“Merlin,” Arthur murmured, gently setting a hand atop Merlin's shoulder, “Merlin, wake up.”

Merlin suddenly sat bolt upright, his eye snapping open. Arthur instinctively pulled Merlin closer, so they were lying chest to chest. Arthur gently wiped the tears from Merlin's cheek, sighing deeply. “You had a bad dream, didn't you?” Arthur asked softly.

Merlin nodded sheepishly, burying his face in Arthur's neck.

“Would you like to talk about it?” Arthur queried.

Merlin shook his head. “I'm alright,” he promised, though Arthur was looking at him as if he had three heads. “Arthur, I promise I'm alright. Just- hold me, please?”

Arthur tightened his arms around Merlin. “Anything you desire, love,” the king whispered.

A weak smile crept onto Merlin's face.

[panharmonium]

Merlin 👀

First impression:

😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍

I loved how curious and sunny and optimistic he was.  I loved how he was so genuinely interested in everyone around him and so willing to get involved in their lives to help them.  I loved how much hope and faith he had that things could get better.  I loved the little moments when you were reminded that he was a teenager (I laugh every time he throws himself dramatically onto the bed after Gaius scolds him about using magic - he has a legitimate reason to be upset, obviously; it’s just still so funny when the camera cuts to him lying face-first on the mattress).  

Impression now:

Merlin did something I didn’t expect any character to ever be able to do and just barely knocked Obi-Wan Kenobi out of my “top character” slot.  Merlin is my all-time favorite character in anything ever.  I’ve never been quite so invested in a fictional character’s happiness before.

Favorite moment:

This is an impossible question, lol.  Every single moment is my favorite moment.  I honestly tried to go through and pick one for this, but there’s no way I can do it.

Idea for a story:

Welp, I am currently working on one about the immediate post-Season 3 era, because Lancelot and Merlin’s relationship is one of my favorites to explore and I can’t believe the show skipped the entire year they were in Camelot together.

Unpopular opinion:

This isn’t an unpopular opinion; it’s an unpopular fact: Merlin isn’t in love with Arthur. XD

Favorite relationship:

Literally every single one of Merlin’s relationships is compelling to me.  Gwen, Gaius, Arthur, Gwaine, and Lancelot are particular faves.  

And then obviously I think everybody knows by now that I am deeply invested in Merlin’s friendship with Will. <3

Favorite headcanon:

Again, I don’t know if this counts as a headcanon per se; it’s just more of how I choose to interpret the character, but if I had to pick something to put here, I guess I’d say that I have very set opinions on how Merlin connects to his home.  

I know sometimes fanworks will have him think things like “Camelot was his true home” or “Ealdor had never really been his home anyway,” but I personally don’t believe Merlin sees things that way.  I think Merlin has always considered Ealdor (and Cenred’s kingdom, by default) to be his home.  He’s carved out a place for himself in Camelot, too, but when Freya asks him, “Where is home?” he doesn’t say, “Camelot.”  He says “Ealdor.”

Camelot might be important to him in a different way, but if somebody asks about home, the answer is always going to be Ealdor.  And the thing about Merlin and Ealdor is that even though he struggled there sometimes, it’s clear that he still feels deeply connected to the people and the land.  He cares tremendously when his community is under attack.  He cheers “For Ealdor!” with just as much pride as the rest of his people.  He exposes his magic to save those same people’s lives.  He is still very much a part of that community, whether his childhood there was lonely or not.  He knows all of his neighbors intimately.  Their village is tiny.  He used to work alongside these people every day - everyone pitches in together.  And even if his neighbors didn’t always love him in quite the way he wished they would, there is clearly something about all of them that he cares about, something that he finds valuable and admirable and worthy of protection.

So it isn’t exactly a headcanon, I suppose, but whenever I write Merlin in Camelot, I’m writing a Merlin who feels that he’s far from home.  Camelot is miles from Ealdor, not just geographically, but in terms of the life Merlin is used to having and the work he’s used to doing and the land he’s used to living on.  The city is wildly unfamiliar and completely foreign to anything Merlin’s ever known, and I think he finds this exciting at first, but as time goes on (and especially after Season 1 is over) a sort of permanent, low-level homesickness sets in, one that he knows he can’t ever fix, because he definitely doesn’t want to go back to Ealdor, and he knows he could never live there again, but he still misses the land and the life he had there.  He loves his home, in a complicated way.  Sometimes he glances out his little window at the White Mountains and sees how small and distant they look on the northern horizon, and he remembers how they towered over the valley where Ealdor lay and blotted out the stars on a clear night, and he feels a hollow tug in his chest, like he left a piece of himself behind there.

So I guess what I would say about my “headcanon” is just that I think Merlin’s home looms larger in his mind that he lets on.  I think there are very specific reasons why he virtually never talks about it, but I think it’s something that is often in his thoughts, and I think his upbringing there always determines his reaction to things in Camelot that he finds bizarre or silly or frustrating (see: “I think you’re mad; I think you’re all mad.  People should marry for love.  Not convenience.”  Or: “Oh, yeah, the tournament where the knights ride around hitting each other with blunt weapons for no good reason?”).  Camelot isn’t the norm for Merlin; Ealdor is.  Merlin is a rural peasant farmer from a rural peasant village.  That’s always going to be true, whatever else becomes of him later.

[littlestshelby]

Broken.

Tommy Shelby was always known for having a different girl in his bed every night, kicking her out each morning before the sun had risen. Before the war Thomas had fallen in love with a country girl with a religious family who never approved of the watery lane gypsy. The day Thomas left for war she kissed him goodbye and promised to write him. And she did for the first few months. Then Thomas got a letter that changed him forever, Lily had enlisted to be a nurse in France. But on her first day the make shift hospital was bombed and she perished.

For the next two years Thomas gave no care to if he lived or died. Getting off the train in small heath All he wanted was to see her stood on the platform waiting for him, ready to marry him. Have his children. Kiss him and tell him it was a terrible mistake. But no he met his aunt Polly and his smaller brother who was still only a toddler when they returned home. Him and lily had planned on bringing up Finn together, giving him a good life. When Thomas had left Finn was holding Lily’s hand as she rocked him in her arms. Now he was here and she wasn’t holding onto his hat as they walked home. John and Arthur all over their wives. Tommy was broken, most people said it was the war but everyone knew it was Lily’s death. She was his sweetheart and they say when you loose your sweetheart you’ll never find your own heart again.

Spending his days sat behind his desk drinking whisky Tommy longed for death if only to get a glimpse of his girl one more time. She was his beautiful girl. A red headed girl with bright green eyes and pale skin. The red tinge of her cheeks still making Tommy smile when he thought of her. The way she laughed and the way she could light up any room, the Shelby family had never let anyone get as close as they let her. Each Tuesday Thomas and Finn took a single lily to her grave.

Finn was 15 now. It had been 12 years since Thomas came home to nothing. He had no wife just a different girl every night. It was the time of year again that he visited Alfie Solomon’s Just to keep the peace, they met every year unless trouble arrived unexpectedly. Thomas had been in London for three days when he met up with Alfie who was already drunk. At 11am. “Come on now Alfie I expect more of you.” Tommy laughed helping Ollie lift him up and carry him up the stairs to his house above the ‘bakery.’

“Miss Knight!” Ollie called as him and Tommy dropped Alfie on the sofa, Thomas listening to the mans drunken ramblings. A girl appeared in the door way, “get Mr. Shelby a glass of whisky and get Mr Solomons a bucket of water.” Nodding she ran off. Thomas and Ollie laughed for a couple of hours as they listened to Alfie groaning about sobering up. “Mr Solomon’s Miss Lily is here to see you.” The girl spoke standing in the doorway. Tommy’s laughed left him so did his smile. Just that name made his heart go blue, made his mind block out everything.

“I best be off.” Thomas stood. “Oh no no no Tommy.” Alfie spoke standing up. “This, this is Just for you. From what I heard. You’ve bin lookin for somethin. An bein the man I am and knowing I can call in any favour after this. Bare in mind what I done to do this is against everythin a Jew is supposed to be.” Alfie pokes Thomas in the chest.

Tommy was getting pissed he wanted out now he just wanted to go back to his room and punch the wall until his hands bled. “I don’t have time for this Alfie” he spoke deeply. “No time for me Tommy.” A voice spoke softly from the door way. Tommy stared at Alfie for a few moments before turning seeing her. His Lily. She looked the same just matured, her figure more lady like her hair shorter her eyes still as bright as he remembered, the pink of her cheeks ruined by the blue and purple bruises that covered her cheeks. Tommy’s eyes glanced over her body. The more he looked the more damage he saw.

“Lily?” He breathed staring at her. Before he could even move lily was in his arms wrapped around him tightly crying. “Tommy I’m so sorry, my parents sent me away! They made me get married I tried to run but hey threatened to hurt Finn, Tommy they said they would kill him if I left.” She cried more into his shirt. Tommy blinked his heart beating out of his chest. He didn’t speak. He lifted her up not even looking at anyone in the room ignoring his name being called by Alfie. He carried her to her hotel. Ignoring every glance and stranger that stopped to ask if they were okay.

Thomas sat her on his bed going back to lock the door. He grabbed a chair and sat in front of her staring at her face. “You’re dead.” He spoke. She looked up at him looking devastated. “That’s what they told you?” She asked tears slipping from her eyes again. “You died in France, you went to be a nurse and you died in france” he spoke his hands shaking slightly now.

“Oh Tommy” she choked. “I couldn’t have gone to France if I wanted to. I was pregnant Tom.” Lily closed her eyes tightly. “They took her away when she was born.” She looked at Tommy who looked ready to kill. Lily has never been and never will be scared of Thomas. She knew him inside out. “She was beautiful.” She spoke softly. “Then they sent me to peter” she closed her eyes wrapping her arms around herself then. “We married but I refused to give him children. He never did take kindly to that.”

Thomas couldn’t stop staring at her. His lily was here. Talking to him. “Alfie found me by mistake” she chuckled wiping her eyes. “How?” Tommy spoke making her jump a little. “I don’t know he came to the house when peter was beating me, a daily occurrence for the past ten years” Tommy’s knuckles were white. “My parents died a few years ago and peter kept up the promise of hurting Finn, when I got up the courage to argue back he would show me pictures of Finn older. I couldn’t leave Tom.” She looked down. “Alfie killed him. The photos weren’t Finn. Thank god.” She sighed softly. “I told Alfie about you, my watery lane boy. Asked if he could take me to you. He said you were coming here and here you are” she stood now stepping toward him. Her hands touching his face gently making him look up at her.

“The man I’ve loved my whole life.” She whispered both of them in tears now. “I’m sorry Tommy, I’m so sorry.” He stood up and wrapped his arms around her both of them crying with each other. “You’re going to come home Lily, with me in the morning. We will find our daughter that I promise.” He held her face looking into her eyes. She touched his hands softly. “I love you Tommy.” She whispered. He kissed her gently scared she was going to disappear is he held on to tight.

Tommy didn’t sleep that night he just lay staring at her as she slept on bare on his chest. This was how it was supposed to be. Lily and Tommy. Thomas and Lilian. Before lily woke up Thomas was already packed up and had ordered a car to get them home. “Tommy?” Lily called sounding worried when she woke up alone. Her heart beating fast. “I’m here love” Tommy spoke coming back into the room fully dressed making her cheeks flush red. This made Thomas smile. For the first time in a long time.

Once dressed and ready Tommy and Lily had gotten in the car and were on their way back to Birmingham. “Did you ever meet anyone Tom?” She asked gnawing on her lip unable to look at him. “I never married, never found anyone to love.” He spoke lacing his fingers with hers leaning in to kiss the corner of her mouth making her smile. “How’s Finn Tom? John and Arthur made it home right? And Poll is still okay and Ada Oh Ada She didn’t go over to France did she?” She blurted out question after question needing to know everything she had thought about over the last decade.

Thomas told her everything by the time they got home Lily Finally felt relaxed knowing her true family were all safe and happy. Thomas helped her out the car making lily giggle. “Still on watery lane my love.” She kept close to him tucked under his arm safely cuddled into his side. “Couldn’t be to far from the family now could I.” He chuckled stepping inside with her. “John is that you?!” Polly shouted from the kitchen, “get the fuck in ere, found Finn with your fuckin cigarettes again. Ya need to stop leavin your shit about for the little shit to steal!” She ranted stepping into the sitting room. She looked up dropping her glass as she lay eyes on Lily.

It was a long night Lily saw everyone and explained everything. It was 7pm when they were about to leave and Finn walked threw the front door, that’s the first time lily broke down. The time baby she had been taken away from was all grown up, he felt like her own she loved him so much. She held onto him for nearly an hour talking to him about the books she would read to him and the things she would do with him when he was tiny.

When they finally got to bed that night lily was exhausted. “I can’t believe I’m home.” She spoke softly looking at Tommy who’s eyes hadn’t left her since the moment he found her. “I can’t either. Now all that is left is to bring home our daughter and we will be whole.”

It was now known to everyone that the war hadn’t broke Thomas Shelby it was loosing the love of his life. They also knew how he made something of himself. He was rich and powerful and it was all because he had found her again. Lily and Thomas married that month. And their daughter Ivey may Shelby was their to be bridesmaid. The 12 year old had grown up in small heath with a distant cousin of Lily’s. Ivey and lily were closer than daughters they were like one person and Thomas never knew he could love anyone as much as he did those girls. Then two years after they wed, Tommy came home to his girls squealing and shouting about something. “Daddy! Mummas pregnant!” Ivey had screamed spinning around. Tommy was on Lily in second kissing her. The grin on his face bigger than ever.

Thomas had his family back. He was whole again