#they are also there as a reminder for arthur; to remember why he is fighting; of the values he stands for | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

immajustvibehere · 2 years

Text

Anger

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem!Reader

oneshot: fluff, pining, anger, angst but happy end ;)

warnings: y/n doesnt like being yelled at (I'm projecting yes), probably not a very healthy interaction lol

summary: Arthur has a rough week. Nothing works out the way he would like and the realization that his feelings for you become stronger overwhelms him. When he takes his anger out on you, you stay and decide to treat him kindly, despite him hurting you.

2700 words, 15 minutes reading time

Arthur was pissed. Over the last couple of days, a lot of things had accumulated that at last lead him to going crazy. The week started normally, even good. He got up after a decent night's sleep and saw you by the fire, already pouring a cup of coffee. Maybe it was the dream that still lingered on his mind, but the sight of you was unusually welcoming. He couldn't remember details, but the fuzzy outline of what had happened was still hot on his mind. He had dreamt about you and remembered enough things to make his tired face blush slightly. It embarrassed him to slowly realize what sort of a dream it had been but…it was a damn nice one though. Those were rare for Arthur, maybe that's why it didn't fade as quickly as the rest of them.

As he got up to wish you a good morning and claim his share of the coffee, some memories of the dream came back vividly. It was sweet at first but turned bitter real soon, when the coffee fought off his sleepiness and reality settled in.

Here you were in front of him. Drowsily wishing Arthur a good morning and asking him after his plans for today, all the while his thoughts were somewhere else. As if he had forgotten until now, the coldness of the morning creeped under his skin. Also, he soon was reminded that the two of you weren't alone, but in fact in a camp full of people. Especially Reverend, who had risen and joined you around fire, uncontrollably babbling about something neither of you understood. Nothing of the cabin, the intimate togetherness that had never really existed between the two of you but had felt so very real in his dream.

Arthur had to chew on this dream for a while. Though it faded over the course of the next few days, a new feeling popped up whenever he saw you. Arthur hadn't been completely oblivious to the fact that you meant a lot to him. But this...was different. Slightly more intense than he was used to. It confused him. He thought he might be falling in love with you, and nothing could have upset and irritated him more.

You noticed Arthur being somewhat quieter around you and caught him staring from time to time but thought nothing of it.

Then there was Dutch who talked about a job that could turn out to be great. Sean had found a lead, had told Dutch about it and he had been all for it. Arthur, John and Bill had been brought in on the idea. There were many discussions. Dutch, Sean and Bill were all in. Arthur argued it was nonsense, high risk and not a good idea at all. Arthur could count on Hosea's back-up, but John remained impartial. In a way, this angered Arthur even more. Save to say, the job turned out to be a catastrophe.

The loot had been lost and an intense hide and seek as well as shootout with the law had put Arthur in a bad mood. After splitting up so to not draw attention to the group that now had a decent bounty on their head, Arthur walked into a saloon. He knew he had to cool down before he returned to camp. He wasn't a complete fool about his emotions, so he wanted a couple of drinks and return with a more composed mind. Two drinks in he had calmed down. Four drinks in he had to think of you again and the life he would never have with you. After the fifth drink he was throwing punches with some stupid boaster. The fight was broken up after a while, but it wasn't necessarily because Arthur was winning it. Quite the contrary. Not even a good old fist fight would go smoothly.

Never mind the cooling down. Arthur was fuming when he mounted his horse to ride back to camp. His boots pinched. He had ripped a hole into his pants. A button of his shirt had gone loose and the taste of blood in his mouth annoyed him. He spit it out every minute or so, but his lip wouldn't stop bleeding and it made him even angrier. He was completely exhausted. It was already dark and drizzling, an upcoming storm brewing in the distance, when he returned to camp. He was somewhat ready to just...end this day, fall into bed and worry about nothing until tomorrow. But when you approached him as he hitched his horse, a little hope flickered up. Just the sight of you made him softer and forget about his bruises and aches.

"Finally, you're back!", you exclaimed. You had been worried sick. The accounts of John had been anything but calming and you had waited for Arthur to return like your life depended on it. That...however, is not how it sounded to Arthur. Still somewhat intoxicated, the words were twisted in his mind. Suddenly it sounded like he had taken a leisure time, he should have returned sooner - oh, maybe he should hurry up a bit so he could go on another stupid mission for Dutch!

Arthur's face darkened. "Apparently so", he briefly answered. His voice was so low, it screamed danger. It made you freeze and frown. The bitter man looked at you, searching your face for anything else that criticised him, and when he found nothing, he just walked on towards his tent. It took you a moment, but you followed.

"Are you okay, Arthur?"

"Sure. 'm always okay."

"Well, you don't look-"

"How do I look then!?", he yelled.

Your mouth was agape. Hearing Arthur yell was rare, especially in camp…Never before had he yelled at you. The situation was somewhat overwhelming.

"Tha's what I thought...", Arthur mumbled spitefully and continued to his tent, "Woulda shot the whole saloon if that god damn pointless job didn't waste all my bullets."

You couldn't let it go. You hated being yelled at. And you really hated being yelled at by Arthur, you had just realized. The whole week he had ignored you or given you the cold shoulder. Rudely staring, never explaining when you asked...and now he had the audacity to yell at you? His expression was scary, his voice even scarier. It brought tears to your eyes when you confronted him again.

"Look at me!", you demanded. You had intended it to sound more powerful, but it came out rather feeble and small, like a bid you knew you had no claim on.

Arthur turned his face slowly towards you. A deep frown in his bloody face. His eye was swelling, the blood from his lip had painted his whole chin red. He looked fucking frightening.

"Please stop treating me like that", you breathed. You had to fight to bring those words out. You would have preferred to accuse him of your ill-treatment, but you figured provocation wasn't the right way to appeal to him. You damn well knew that he could knock you out if he pleased.

"Treatin' you like what exactly, woman?", Arthur growled, "Gimme a break."

"Let me treat your wounds. Please, Arthur". you swallowed a sob that had worked its way up from your throat.

"Go annoy someone else, I'm sick of it."

A slap so loud resonated through the camp that you were afraid it would wake people up (if they hadn't been disturbed by the shouts yet). It was your flat hand that had landed on Arthur's bruised cheek. After a moment of surprise, Arthur looked at you with this disappointed and disgusted face that made you shrivel and your tears flow. A second later it completely disappeared when he - maybe for the first time since he had returned - really looked at you. Tears streaming down your cheeks; you held your hand that burned from delivering the slap. Arthur watched attentively as you gulped down another sob, wiping across your face with your sleeve. He realised that you were frightened and hurt. Because of him.

"'m sorry", Arthur mumbled. Everything started to sink in.

"Y/n I'm sorry", he repeated. Arthur was in disbelief of the scene that had just played out in front of him. He expected you to run away. God, he was disgusted in himself. But you held eye contact. Tears blurred your vision and you felt sick, but you stayed. For a while you just looked at each other. You desperately tried to get your lip to stop quivering, but it didn’t really work. Why were you even crying? You knew Arthur wasn’t specifically mad at you – you had done nothing wrong. His shouts had been directed at you though, and it had triggered something you didn’t have control over. Maybe it could best be described with feeling disrespected and confronted with a weakness you hadn’t even been aware you had. You crumbled, completely at mercy for this man’s emotions.

"Can I-", a sob interrupted your question, but you simply pointed at Arthur's face. He was dumbfounded, no word would get out of his mouth. He nodded and sat down on his cot. With sad eyes he watched you bringing a chair, watched how you filled in a bowl with fresh water and arranged your first-aid kit, before you took a seat in front of him and started disinfecting his wounds.

Arthur looked down to the ground. You recovered with every second that passed in silence. The way Arthur slouched his shoulders, how he avoided to look at you; you could tell he was sorry.

"Why'd you do that for me?", Arthur sighed.

"You need it."

"But I damn well don't deserve it", Arthur chuckled. It was far from genuine laughter, he tried to cover up how awkward and undeserving he felt.

"Maybe....dunno." Concentrated you cleaned Arthur's lip, knowing it must hurt tremendously. You also did him the favour of wiping the blood off his chin, watching in satisfaction how his beard turned from red to the brown-golden stubble you loved so much. Arthur looked to the side, or anywhere where your eyes couldn't catch his. He could tell you were being extra careful, and it shattered him even more. His hands wrung one another, the bloody and bruised knuckles tingling.

"So...job was a mare's nest. You decided to have a couple of drinks and then beat up half the saloon?", you asked, slowly piecing together the happenings of today. You wiped a warm and wet cloth across Arthur's cheek in an attempt to see if there was a serious wound under all the blood.

"Sounds about right...", he mumbled defeatedly.

"But there's something else, isn't there?", you asked, briefly stopping your actions to look at Arthur, who directed his gaze to his hands, "You've been acting weird all week." As the man in front of you didn't answer, you resumed your work on his other cheek. You carefully turned Arthur's head with two fingers, positioning him perfectly to make it easier to treat him.

"How can I make this up to you?", he asked. Changing the topic before he had to answer your question, hoping you'd forget you had even asked.

"You don't have to make it up to me. Just...don't yell at me again", you said and sniffled. It pierced right through Arthur's heart.

"'Course...nuthin' of it was yer fault to begin with", Arthur sighed quietly. "I'm real sorry, y/n."

"I know", you said, finishing off his second cheek before you leant back to look at him. This time, his eyes met yours again. He was almost looking up to you, you wondered how that's possible for a man a head taller than you. You weren't crying anymore, though your cheeks were still flushed and your eyes glazy. But you smiled. A bit weary and sad, but also relieved. There was a cut above Arthur's eyebrow, and you thought you spotted some dried blood in Arthur's hair under his hat. It made you wonder if he was seriously wounded somewhere else, but before you continued, you wanted to try again.

"If there IS something else. You know that I would...really like to hear it. Maybe I can help?", you said. But you had already accepted that Arthur wouldn't tell you, so you started to stand up to reach Arthur's head. Seeing how he already reached for his hat made you suspect the worst; ‘he certainly is hurt under there if he takes his hat off to show me’. Instead, before you had fully stood up, Arthur had taken off his hat and put it on your head. You sat down again. It was too big, dangling somewhat loosely on your head. When Arthur hit the brim with his flat hand, it obscured your vision even more. It gave Arthur some precious moments to blush at the sight of you with his hat on.

With delight Arthur saw the big smile forming on your face.

Two weeks ago, there had been an evening where everyone was at least tipsy. Conversation was either obscene or completely random and some of the girls, you included, had made a game of ranking the boy's hats. The details were fuzzy, but you tried to steal Arthur's hat a couple of times. At one point, he ran from you, crying: "NO! I gotta marry ya if ya do!" And you thought it was some stupid joke he had come up with, only after the girls filled you in that a man's hat is something personal indeed. You still wanted to wear his hat. Even more, to be honest; but for the sake of it you let it drop, less you would embarrass Arthur or be in everyone's mouth for it.

You corrected the way his hat sat on your head. It was still too big and wobbled around when you stood up to look at Arthur's scalp, but you were overjoyed. His head wasn't seriously hurt, you were happy to see. Only some bumps that must hurt horribly and dried blood of unknown origin.

"You're good to go. Think I got all of them scratches", you smiled, sitting down on the chair again.

"Going where, girl? Yer in my tent", Arthur said.

"Oh. Right", you felt stupid and a sheepish grin spanned across your face. Slowly you took of Arthur's hat and looked at it before you placed it on the table. Maybe you should stop sending mixed signals, because you were a bit confused as to what exactly it meant that he had put his hat on you. "So...Arthur...what...", you traced the brim of the hat with you finger, now it was you who was finding it difficult to look at him.

"Ya mean a lot to me, y/n."

You smiled shyly, watching Arthur in the corner of your eye, shuffling around on the cot.

"You mean a lot to me too", you said, yet again coming a bit closer. It was too difficult to rephrase his words. Too tough to simply tell him 'I like you'.

"Clearly. Anyone else would've ran off the second I got angry and not stayed and played doctor", Arthur chuckled. He knew it wasn't self-evident that you had stayed. Nor the way how gently you treated him afterwards, though he had to admit (just to himself) that he had needed it.

"And I'm a fool for that", you smiled.

Arthur looked at you. His eyes as blue as they ever were, you could get lost in them. Finally, he cleared his throat, stuttering an offering: "Maybe...if yer okay with that...would'ya ride out with me? Sometime soon? Tomorrow...if ya like." Arthur sat on his cot in front of you, feeling foolish. It hadn't been so difficult to ask someone out when he was a pubescent boy but somehow, he just felt exactly like one. His heart was racing. He knew why he didn't want to tell you about the dream he had had any time soon, because telling you meant facing reality and rejection. He wasn't sure if he could do that, with all of his past failings so present on his mind.

"I'd really love to." But this rejection never came and never would come. And when Arthur followed you with his eyes, how you disappeared in the dim darkness of camp at night, waddling off to your bedroll, he felt that he was one step closer to make his dream a reality.

#arthur morgan x reader #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #arthur morgan fanfiction #red dead redemption community #rdr2 #rdr2 fanfiction #arthur morgan x female reader #rdr #rdr fanfiction

485 notes · View notes

lillianlilie · 4 months

Text

Honestly i kind of think the mechanisms said ‘what passed between them then is perhaps too personal for us to speak of’ in hnoc because they actually just. don’t know what is said.

I mean. Not like they ever cared about keeping their characters privacy before so why would they now? That moment is the most emotionally charged moment of the album, the resolution of the finale and of one of the main plot strings (mordred being arthers child) so i cannot imagine them leaving it out because they wanted to.

Now there are a few options.

1. brian doesn’t know what happened. In my opinion really plausible because. well. he was still hanging. he wasn’t actually IN the room when the polycule-showoff happened so why would he know what is said? I think if this is what happened he knew about the showoff because of his prophocies, probably up until ‘I’m sorry father‘ which would also explain why he only tells arthur about his son, because that seems like the most relevant thing there (y‘know with mordred killing everyone and stuff)

I can only imagine him foreseeing that scene and kind of grasping at straws to think of what the hell to tell arthur to do in order to safe the world, eventually ending up at ‘so recognise, embrace and believe him’ because well. fatherly love can’t hurt, right?

2. he doesn’t want to tell.

a) maybe he knew that the mechs would forget him in the sun and that’s why he tried to prevent the world from ending, which would potentially make his not-telling a revenge fuck you to the rest of the crew for leaving him. This also makes sense because it would be justifiable in both mje and ejm mode and i can’t imagine none of the mechanisms tried switching his mode when he refused to talk.

This also makes me think of a distraught crew trying to get brian to talk, while he just sits there smug. Except for nastya whom brian has told before but enjoys their suffering too much to tell.

b) but also, they hadn’t actually seen him for a millennia at that point so maybe they forgot that switching his morality switch was a possibility. This gives us another option if they wrote the album while he was in mje mode: He saw what happened but genuinely thinks ‘its too personal for [them] to speak of’, which would mean that line came from him. Maybe because he was genuinely emotionally attached to mordred, arthur and their world, which also makes sense with his effort to safe the world.

Maybe after leaving earth the toy soldier flips the switch because it wanted something from him that he would only do while in ejm. Then, when jonny expresses his frustration again about brian keeping quiet he happily starts talking about what happened. The crew just stares tiredly. Raphaela asks why he decided to tell now (‚just because you wanted to annoy us? By waiting until we finished the last concert?‘) but before he can answer ts pipes in like ‘Oh No, I Just Switched His Mode! We Talked and Were Both In The Mood For A Fight But He Didn’t Want To Start It, So I Switched Him To EJM!’. When asked why it didn’t remind them of the switch when they made the album it says it didn’t think they forgot about such an important part of brian and just didnt want to switch for whatever reason. ‘I Wasn’t Sure What Your Reason Was, But I Just Thought It’s Not My Business!’ Cut to a lot of defeated deadpans (and a guilty frown from marius) and ivy announcing she’s going to bed.

3. he forgot. He did spend a millennia in the sun so like. What did they expect?? That he remembers every little detail? He’s not ivy.

#it talks???#the mechanisms #hnoc #high noon over camelot #drumbot brian

52 notes · View notes

mcdonaldsnumberone · 6 months

Text

SKIN-DEEP COMEDY!

the symbolism of the wizards' crests and their journeys with you, their beloved master sage.

gender neutral reader

OZ!

—right collarbone: fragility, visibility, shattering of deep belief

Even the strongest wizard in the world has his weaknesses, even if it may be hard to believe. Maybe that’s why it’s so fitting for a man like him to have his crest placed in such a vulnerable place. The collarbone is infamous for being the most fractured bone, the right moreso being weaker than the left. Under the demonic guise, the facade of a wizard so powerful that he can bury his emotions, is a man whose heart is still thawing under love. Emotions are new, they’re fickle, and yet it’s enough to make him hesitate and reveal parts of himself that even he had never faced. Whether it be Arthur’s guidance or the wholehearted trust he puts in you to restore his world back to what it was, the shimmering black lily branded onto his right collarbone is the only telltale symbol on his body of the man behind the magic.

“Remember your duty, Master Sage. The moon does not forgive. Only the strong can survive in this world. Mind your place, and stay by my side.”

ARTHUR!

—right hand: ownership, power, a place of honor and status in biblical text

Sworn to the throne by birthright, Arthur is a man meant to grow into power and grace. His crest speaks to this responsibility, hovering over him more imposingly than any uncle or throne could. He carries out the will of the Central country, second to only the citizens of the people he rules over. His destiny is to inherit and enact blessings, and the constant visibility of his crest is an undeniable reminder of his fealty to you and that he must always use his place as both a wizard and a prince for nothing but good. You have faith that he won’t waver, not when he has such clear eyes for the future and comrades that believe in him without a shadow of doubt. Arthur is someone that’ll seek the light even when the odds are stacked against him, and his outstretched hand, bearing the black lily, will herald his bright tomorrows.

“Please trust me. So long as you are with me, I won’t allow any harm to befall on you. Not only are you the Master Sage, but you are someone important to me above all.”

CAIN!

—right forearm: strength, action, the capacity to start anew

Cain is a man of the sword first and foremost. Even now, with his secret as a wizard out on full display, he defines himself as a knight before anything else. His crest is representative of his strength and his will, as someone who has vowed to keep his liege safe but to also bear the safety of those around him. He’s determined not to make enemies with anyone that might stand in his way, whether it be human or wizard alike. Cain knows there’s more to the world than the small sliver he’s seen, and he knows holding onto his courageous heart will be the key to paving a way for those to follow. Despite having his status, his humanity, and his eye robbed of him, he wants you to help him stand strong in what he believes in. The black lily on his right forearm brandishes his sword literally and figuratively: a living embodiment of his justice.

“Let me protect you. I want to be someone you can lean on, Master Sage. It’s okay to depend on me. As long as I’m standing, I’ll be someone who fights for your honor.”

RIQUET!

—forehead: intellect, intelligence, heavenly love with the good

The world is an anomaly to Riquet just as much as Riquet is an anomaly to the world. After being withheld so much, Riquet’s only now learning what it means to exist apart from his days locked away in a cult. The line between curiosity and hedonism is a thin one: the one between morality and cruelty even thinner. His crest is a reminder of everything he has yet to learn and the importance of utilizing what he already has. Riquet has to discern between what will help others, what will help him, and what will betray everything he’s built up until now. You’re a stranger from another world who holds nothing but kindness towards him, so isn’t it only natural that he looks to you with reverence in his eyes? The black lily on his forehead is a manifestation of his hunger for intelligence, but also a newfound devotion to do good, for the universe and for himself.

“Let us step away from sin. Guide me to the light, and I will do the same for you. There are so many things wrong with this world, so let’s work hard together to make everything right again.”

SNOW!

—right neck: anger, hazardous, desolate to truth

Blood stains Snow’s hands. There’s no wizard that doesn’t eventually end up succumbing to the chaotic roar nestled inside their chest, but it’s one thing to kill others for power or glory and another to kill your very own kindred out of desperation. He claims it was love that brought White back from the dead, tethering his own soul and sharing it with his twin, but the dead swirls in his golden eyes hint at something a bit obsessive instead. But all’s well that ends well, and your worries should be less about him and more about yourself instead. This world is a lot scarier than you think, and it’s only right that a wizard as wise and skilled as he is ought to guide you through its pitfalls. The right side of his neck is adorned with a black half lily: an eternal reminder of his mistake and his rage, and everything he has to do in order to rectify his sins.

“Have you ever loved someone to the point of death? No? It's an indescribably heartbreaking experience. Master Sage, I hope this world will be kinder to you than it was to me.”

WHITE!

—left neck: strain, the past, implementation of the soul’s will

White is a remnant of what he once was. With no being of his own, his borrowed corporeal form is just an extension of Snow’s longing. He knows his time here is borrowed and yet he can’t even find solace in having died once. He shares his convoluted and twisted truth with the rest of the wizards, even extending a hand towards you when you’re willing to listen to whatever sick advice he might whisper into your ears. It’s hard to believe that his familial love for his brother isn’t as warped as he is, not when the hand that strokes yours feels so real. His half crest is a reminder that White is truly no longer and that he’s practically a ghost wandering in the shadow of Snow’s rage. The black half lily on his left neck is a mark of taboo, not fully intact but refusing to disappear altogether.

“Has someone ever loved you to the point of death? No? It’s a truly beautiful thing, Master Sage. Perhaps I can show you, if your curiosity demands it.”

MITHRA!

—pelvis: sexuality, old memories and trauma, issues of control

The pursuit of strength might be Mithra’s own way of keeping those he loves safe. He once had no one he could call his, at least, not until Tiletta took him as his student and made him a part of her family. Despite him being rough around the edges, you know that his obsession with becoming the strongest is only so that no one can question him and his desire to be loved. There’s no other reason as to why he holds your hand so tightly as he sleeps, or why he refuses to let any other wizard wager any influence over you. He bares himself wholly to you and you only, trusting that you understand his brusque words. The black lily nestled by his hips is proof of his love, and it’s a mark that he would only show to you. It’s an honor he won’t give to anyone else, so cherish it closely.

“...Don’t go anywhere, Master Sage. What, is that something you wouldn’t expect from me? Does it matter? You’re going to be with me. Nothing more to it.”

OWEN!

—tongue: the devil, the voice of the gods, shame

Owen shrouds himself in mystery, and he takes pleasure only in his hedonistic ways. Whether it be sneaking sweets when no one is looking or thinking up of new ways to torment those around him, everything he does remains inexplicable to anybody else in the Wizards’ Manor. No matter how thorny he is to you or how much he threatens to rip you from limb to limb, you refuse to back down in your attempts to wiggle into his heart. He’ll spew curses and keep you at bay, but he can’t deny your warm heart and the time you’ve spent with him. Maybe his distance is not because of maliciousness but out of his own loneliness, with large swathes of his memory missing. Can anything else come close to your sincerity? There’s no telling. His mouth will always say one thing, but the black lily engraved onto his tongue speaks of a devoted truth.

“Say, Master Sage, I wonder what taking your heart as a trophy would be like. A gruesome, bloody heart, ripped straight from your broken ribs. All mine… Won’t you give it to me?

BRADLEY!

—right abdomen: dysfunctionality, things unresolved and unprocessed, authenticity

The spitting image of the North, Bradley always holds his head high despite how much his situations have changed. A once-proud bandit leader of a powerful group, Bradley’s power lies not in his magical strength but in the keen mind that he sharpens with each year that he puts under his belt. He’s experienced his fair share of victories, but he’s experienced even more heartbreaks. He’s cognizant that nothing lasts forever, more than anyone else, but at the same time, could you blame him for not knowing when to let something so sweet go? Fate dangles regret right in front of his face, and it’s up to you to unravel the tangled threads. Sometimes he’ll indulge parts of his past with you, weaving tales of biting cold Northern winds and his stellar glory days, but the glimpses of the black lily on his right abdomen remind you of everything else he’s left unshared and unsaid.

“I got your back, so don’t slouch. A real leader worth their salt has to hold their head up straight, you hear? You’ve got the great Bradley Bain as your right hand man, Master Sage.”

FAUST!

—left shoulder blade: connection to the heart, guilt, vulnerability

Faust’s crest spreads like a shadow on his back, bearing the guilt and altruism of his past. It’s bigger than any other wizards’ crest for a reason, and it covers him as if it were the same embrace that he yearned for for so many years. His heart is jaded yet still soft, wanting assurance that his actions are the right decisions yet unsure if his goodwill is enough to save the crumbling world around him. His faith has been tested time and time again, and he’s sure it’s going to be tested once more, as the moon descends to take everything he’s cared for. Your clear eyes and unwavering loyalty to him might seem overbearing, but this devotion is what he needs to find the courage to stand up once more. The black lily on his left shoulder blade is his fealty to you and his choice to believe in goodness once more.

“There’s no need to praise me. I’m only doing what’s right. I’m no hero, no great leader, nor am I the Faust of the legends. Please, Master Sage, I’m nothing but a wizard that believes in you.”

HEATHCLIFF!

—lower left back: acceptance, generosity, crossroads at life

Many wizards of different walks of life are called to duty, but Heathcliff stands unique as the heir to a noble family. If being a wizard wasn’t difficult on its own, he’s had to balance the responsibility of his birthright and position for his entire life. Despite the doubts that gnaw like gnats in his mind, Heathcliff strives to be gracious and clement, vowing never to use his position for evil. And yet with his position as an heir growing heavier and the world demanding even more of his sensibility, the insecurity that plagues him becomes harder to wipe away. It’s only the love and care of those around him that can prop him back up, and one day, he hopes that he can extend a helping hand to you just as much as you’ve done for him. His lower left back sparkles with the black petals of a lily, his wizard’s crest, with his gratitude towards you.

“There’s a lot of times when I feel inadequate for all the titles I hold… And yet, you never admonish me for my mistakes, Master Sage. Thank you, and I’ll do my best for you.”

SHINO!

—right shoulder: masculinity, bearing burdens, imbalance

Rash but smart, strong yet inexperienced, Shino’s eager to take on the world and prove himself as a worthy retainer of Heathcliff. He’s hyperaware of everything he owes to the Blanchett family, and for him, becoming a Sage’s Wizard is his way of paying back the debt that saved him from a life of misery. He has little to call his own, not even his own last name, but what bonds he does have, he treasures above all else. The intensity and fear in his eyes are a testament to everything he has to put on the line so he can hold true to his promise of eternal loyalty. You’re the only one that can hope to understand him, the only one to help him digest the danger and the perils around him. The black lily on his right shoulder is the power you give him, to lead him to glory, to lead him to the refuge that he’s sought after all this time.

“Worry about yourself, Master Sage. I know how to hold my own ground. Things will fall apart if anything happens to you. You’re someone I can’t afford to lose yet.”

NERO!

—left bicep: to nurture, receiving support, intuition

For every shining protagonist on the stage, there’s someone hidden in the curtains to pull the strings. Nero wonders how long he’s been the one in the back. He has an intelligent mind and an even harsher tongue at times, his Northern birth betraying the Eastern mask he puts on. If he closes his mind and lets himself dream, he can conjure up distant memories of snowy nights spent drinking, boisterous laughter, the indulgence of stolen goods and a gruff voice praising his wits. But when he opens his eyes back up, he’s reminded of his betrayal. It’s hard to swallow back the lump in his throat when you console him and tell him he’s more than his past mistakes, but how many more can he make before his act is up? The black lily that appeared on his left bicep betrayed his facade once, and only so many parts can disintegrate before the entire whole crumbles.

“You can’t trust a man like me. But you’re going to do it anyway? You’re such a hassle at times, Master Sage. No, it’s okay. Being stubborn is a good thing too.”

SHYLOCK!

—left collarbone: shock, union, enthusiasm of a full heart

The beauty of being the one pursued means that Shylock has seen the rarest and the most desperate parts of the human psyche. It doesn’t mean he himself is above falling victim to love’s incessant ways, but it’s given him a seduction and a charm that’s increasingly difficult to read. You’re lucky that you have a special place in his heart, with his penchant for treating his loved ones like a pet. He claims Western wizards are free spirits who hate being tied down, but somewhere in his soul, perhaps he’s also grown tired of the cat-and-mouse game he plays with his admirers. He wants the permanence of something fickle, and is there anyone better for that role than the Sage from another world? He doesn’t want to trap you per se, but he wants to see how far he can go with this borrowed time. The black lily branded onto his left collarbone is his permanent reminder of a temporary bond.

“What a beautiful face you’re making, Master Sage. Fufu, am I getting too close to you? Won’t you allow me, just this once? I want to be spoiled by you today.”

MURR!

—right palm: good luck, encouragement to work hard, impending loss

Is there anything in this world that Murr hasn’t taken an interest in? Undone by his own pursuit of knowledge combined with just the right amount of hubris, even in his shattered form, Murr walks to the beat of his own drum and explores to the tune of his heart. It’s an impossible task to turn him back into the fickle man he was before he ventured too close to the moon, but when he pulls you in for a dance in the courtyard or whisks you away on his broom, it’s hard to stomach the dread that settles in your stomach as you realize his current form is an apparition of smoke and mirrors. Murr doesn’t mind—there’s still plenty out there for him to squander his foolishness on. He’ll happily invite you to fall with him, and the black lily weeping in the middle of his right palm is the proof of the only ending the two of you can have.

“Why the long face? Dance with me, Master Sage! Look at how lovely the moon is and how bright it makes everything down here! Why don’t we fly up and say hello too?”

CHLOE!

—right chest: dissatisfaction in relationships, physical connection, personal power

Optimism and a desire to be loved is what Chloe cares most about. After having his entire world flipped upside down by Rustica’s mistake, he’s learned what it means to be a human and a wizard. He vows to use his talents to spread happiness and always to help others, but each corner of the world seems to be tainted with insecurity and doubt the more he aims to spread goodness and truth. Even his own bond with his teacher seems shaky at times, and Chloe wants to find the courage to break free of his mold to reach through to Rustica’s frozen heart. You’re the only one to know the conflict in his heart, torn between both what’s good and what’s truthful. You appreciate him for who he is: a reflection of all the good wishes he’s kept inside, and the black lily hidden away on his right chest is only the beginning to what you hope will be nothing but a flowery path for him.

“Do you have faith in me? Then… I’ll do what I can so that I won’t let you down! You always see the good in everyone and in me, so I’ll do my part to repay the favor, Master Sage!”

RUSTICA!

—throat: truth, purification, clarity in responsibility

Rustica desires to love. His entire time as a wizard has been in chase of a bride from memory. The smiling nobleman wants the warm embrace of a lover, their soft whispers, even a quick kiss stolen in between honeyed glances. But that dream has long fluttered away, and only remnants of feathers remain at the floor of his birdcage. He doesn’t mind; his eyes have been opened thanks to his diligent apprentice and you. You’ve never denied his romantic streak, not when everyone else ridiculed him, not when even the universe seemed to condemn him from love. It’s no wonder that he clings so desperately to the dregs of love that he can catch from the end of your words or your touches. The black lily on his throat is his duty to uncover the reality of his past and to fulfill his duty of devoting himself to love, be it something old or something new.

“Ah, you look as lovely as ever, Master Sage. Your presence never fails to stir something in my heart. Come, let me adore you even more. You deserve nothing less.”

FIGARO!

—right rib cage: crookedness, need to protect the heart, longing for reunion

A man of self-inflicted ephemerality, Figaro struggles to see the permanence of the world. His idea of love is so tilted, so permanently warped, that he develops an inhuman craving for being desired that he refuses to fulfill. He wants to reach out and to be brave, and yet some cowardly vices keep him entrapped in a web of his own making. Even behind all of his empty, slack eyes and perfectly poised smiles, you keep probing far deeper than he expected or wanted you too. Though simultaneously, he wants you to keep pushing, wants you to understand his soul-crushing loneliness and save him from it. Surely, you can see past the “ordinary” wizard doctor to see the broken man underneath; you’re the only one that can save him now. Hidden away like his heart is the black lily on his right rib cage, forever yearning, forever begging for one more chance from cruel fate.

“You’re staring at me so intently. Could it be that you’ve fallen for Dr. Figaro? Haha, I’m only teasing you. You deserve a far finer man, Master Sage.”

RUTILE!

—right wrist: misalignment of purpose, sentimentality, movement

Rutile straddles the difficult line between the past, the present, and the future. He plays the precarious game of balancing his mother’s legacy and his younger brother’s unrelenting desire to unleash his full potential, all while tending to his own needs and the responsibility of being appointed a Sage’s Wizard. It’s all too easy for him to get lost in the memories of the simpler days in the South Country, with a baby Mitile clinging to his side and his students surrounding him. But he has to find courage and to place his trust in you, praying that you have the proper vision to use his magic for good. You’re both a cherished friend and a leader to Rutile, and it would shatter him to lose you too. He doesn’t need grandeur or glory, only your guaranteed safety. The black lily carved onto his right wrist is his constant wish for your well-being.

“Would you like a ride on my broom, Master Sage? Ah, you don’t need to look so scared! Would you like me to hold your hand too? No? C’mon, it’ll be fun!”

LENNOX!

—nape: freedom of the soul, deeper truths, connection

Lennox has lived honestly and faithfully, dedicating himself wholly to what he believes to be right. He spent centuries in search of the lost leader he considered to be his master, and he spent even more time pondering what his place in this world was. While he knows he’s no magical genius like Faust might be or even a figure of legend like Oz, his genuine desire to help others and to protect those he’s placed his devotion towards runs far deeper than any magic could even fathom. His true strength lies in aligning his life with yours, the same love he tends to his herd with becoming the same love he needs in order to save the world with nothing but his bare hands. The black lily that blooms on the nape of his neck is a reminder of the delicacy in his fortitude, the gentile nature that will render him as a true savior.

“Is anything troubling you? No? That’s good. I’m not the best talker, but… I’m always willing to listen to your words, Master Sage. I will be strong for you.”

MITILE!

—left wrist: divinity, receiving energy and protection, healing

The youngest of the Sage’s Wizards and the youngest son of the great witch, Mitile’s entire soul itches to live up the shoes that his mother left for him. He knows he’s capable of doing amazing and unearthly things with his magic, gifted by his older brother in order to keep him alive. No amount of patience is enough to quell his curiosity, so as the Sage, you’re tasked with the impossible duty of giving him the experience he needs all while being cognizant of the ambitions of those around him. Will you let him run free, to become the terrifying wizard he dreams of? Or will you let him be snuffed out, a sacrificial lamb in order to save the entirety of South Country. There has to be a middle ground, and when the black lily on his left wrist glitters cruelly, you have to believe that you’ve made the right choice.

“Master Sage, look what I can do! Magic sure is amazing. One day, I’ll be a wizard as great as my mother, and I’ll be sure to wow you even more!”

53 notes · View notes

someguyinc · 5 months

Text

Guinevere "There is always a choice" Pendragon is unironically the strongest character in bbc merlin.

why?? because she knows how to say no!! not only to those around her but to herself as well. gwen's strength as a character comes not from her eventual status as queen, but to understand and utilize the information given to her and then choose accordingly regardless of fear mongering. in a story where the villain is the narrative/cycles of abuse gwen wins against the underlying adversary every. single. time. where every other character with major plot points literally fails at this so hard it either results in their own moral demise or their literal death, gwen tanks through the challenge and even gives others hope where there seems to be none

every other character is controlled by some sort of fate,, arthur is told by the disir that "he has always been known" and that the fate of camelot is doomed unless he embraces the old religion, he's also born a prince and knows his entire life is laid out for him, merlin is told that he must help to bring magic back to the lands if arthur is to live and camelot of be successful, and morgana is first plagued by visions of the future (which as we learn in merlin that knowing the future does nobody any good) and then is told that emrys will be her doom.

gwen,, is just gwen :), yes other people know of her fate and purposefully try to mold it but she herself isn't fully and because she is free of the narrative cage, instead of being pulled to and fro by the other characters whims, she fortifies her own beliefs and through trial and anguish learns that nobody is coming to save her from cycles of fear except herself

(very obviously there are time when gwen is put in the damsel in distress situation, but to me it's the type that megara from hercules is in: "i'm a damsel, i'm in distress, have a nice day :)" )

let's look at lancelot and guinevere's relationship specifically and how their character thesis parallel each other and how it plays into her being better than everyone else

when lancelot arrives he and gwen immediately hit it off,, they're infatuated with the other and think of the other often having romantic moments and lingering touches before he eventually leaves without saying goodbye in the first season. lancelot is in my opinion the antithesis to gwen's character, not because he is guided by some bigger fate (because so are merlin and arthur) but precisely because he is also someone technically "free" of that narrative cage.

lancelot came to camelot because he wanted to be a knight, when he found out he couldn't be, after shenanigans and committing identity theft, he left and eventually became a sell sword as he had "no other choice",, when they eventually break out he leaves gwen again after learning arthur has feelings for her instead of fighting for her telling merlin: "she has changed him forever but some things are just not meant to be"

taking away her choice, but also confining himself to the gilded cage of fate for what he thinks is for her but really was for him

lancelot is not the only character who does this, in fact almost all of the bbc merlin character do:

merlin has times where he repeatedly goes to gwen and tells her about his dilemmas where he talks about how dismayed he is that he doesn't have a choice where gwen then repeatedly reminds him that he actually does have a choice,, these interactions flow on through merlin to arthur where the closer merlin is to gwen he remembers that he always has a choice to do the right thing and only reverts back to "i have no choice" as the seasons go on and they distance themselves

is sort of a reverse of merlin, arthur the closer he gets to gwen, is further introduced to the idea of free will,, specifically in his love life when he knows that he will have to marry one day and goes from telling gwen that they could never actually happen, to outright marrying her in front of king and country not because gwen pushed him to, but because she gave him the confidence to be the king he could be and realize he didn't want to spend a life bound to destiny (not that he had much of a choice tbh)

morgana and gwen are so interesting to me because she was a character who tried to fight against destiny,, but also clung to it like the future was a solid thing and let her hatred consume her because of fate, like when fighting gwen in s4ep13,, gwen asks why she despises her so much and morgana replies "it's not you it's what you will become",, like even in fighting against fate morgana doesn't even question of what she is seeing is set in stone she just assumes it is and acts according like (does that make sense??)

gwen has her own prejudices and anger, by the time s5 rolls around she is wary of magic and has seen it destroy so many of her loved ones and those she's supposed to protect as queen. but like,, her constant determination not just to do the right thing because so many of these characters believe they are, but to reminder others and herself that "you always have a choice" saved not just her life but all the other characters lives multiple times

in fact camelot was often in its most critial danger when gwen wasn't there, either physically or mentally,, the only thing that could be done to stop the positive effect she had was to literally brainwash her and even that took so much effort because even under extremely psychological abuse gwen refused to give in to morgana's torture and only broke when her brother literally died in front of her

(i also could make an entire post on the SCRAPS. that the bbc gave us on gwen and elyan's relationship and their reaction to choice)

anyways gwen solos hope this makes sense <3

#some guy talking #bbc merlin #bbc guinevere #guinevere pendragon #arthur pendragon #morgana pendragon #bbc lancelot #parallels and theme #im just yapping fr #merlin meta

28 notes · View notes

giselledorleans · 1 month

Text

hshqtask059.

when did you join ? what made you join ? what do you remember from the plotlines that were current at the time ? where were you in life when you joined and where are you now ?

i joined in july 2017 ! i remember browsing the tags and finding laura's wc for irena's sister. i was so obsessed. i loved a good family connection and heck if that wasn't it ! i was studying back then and now i'm working for a company 🤢🤢🤢

which characters have you written over the years ?

iris <3<3<3 isabela, giselle, arthur sr., darcy, kurakin, ignac ! honestly a lot less than you'd think !

what is your favourite plotline that you've been part of ?

in a way arthur sr. short escapade. i liked the fact that the storyline's timeline was clear and i could have him for a short time. his interactions were pretty wild. and i loved his dynamic with art and nicole. but honestly ? there's been so many but i think i've enjoyed myself the most during isabela's best era ? when she was picking up fights left and right, rebelling, etc etc. isabela's friendships with rohan and remei are probably my favourites. rohan's relationship with isabela was so random and it was so organic. i adore it. writing with julie on the otherhand was so wholesome. this is just a sidenote but two threads that have stuck with me would iris and irena's fight. when i was writing that i felt like i finally tapped into something in iris that made everything clear. i knew the character, i knew what she was supposed to say, and everything made sense. i wanna say laura felt it too. our writing matched so well and we understood where the other character was coming from. it's one of my most precious memories. then there's giselle's and roman's threads. i don't remember if this was a single thread or if these moments were scattered here and there but i loved writing giselle against roman because he brought out the best of her. the d'orléans enabled the terrible side of her. they fed her selfishness and cruelness. roman challenged her and sort of reminded her about the truly meaningful things in life. the threads were important to me and i think they made giselle so much more interesting to write.

what about other people's plotlines ?

alexei's depression. i didn't realize what elisa was writing at first and then she started to drop the signs and i was like oh no. alexei is one of the saddest characters i've seen. i was sold.

who is your favourite character from the ones you've played ? why ? what made you love them ? what made them so fun to write ?

giselle. which is a bit weird because giselle has never really had the starring role in plots ? i think all my plots on her haven't exactly been about her but it has been a lot of fun to tag along ! giselle's snarkiness was fun and i loved her antics. isabela is a close second but i think she wasn't as flexible ? her threads were a bit repetitive in the end.

if you could relive a plotline, which would it be ?

iris and irena. i think it's been a very long time and if we got to write them now, we'd be able to write them even better. it might be just nostalgia speaking.

is there a plotline that you'd edit now if you could ?

i wouldn't edit anything but i wish i had spent more time developing the friendship between isabela, bash, art and co. i think it was a fun group and a bit random !

what's a plotline you wish you would have been able to finish before closing or just write more of ?

i wish i could have made giselle into a good sister-in-law to fanni ! something wholesome after a long period of darkness would have been nice. but also it would have been cool to develop the slovakia-hungary plotline. ignac was a lot of fun and i'm glad i picked him up even if it was only for a short time ( like almost a year but time moves weirdly.... ).

what is your favourite ooc memory ?

i don't know if this is strictly ooc thing but I LOVED the craziness of the monaco nye. i loved that everyone just did wild shit. it was amazing. i don't want to say we peaked there but we totally did.

where can others find you if they want to get in touch ?

i'm not gonna lie but i'll probably disappear. everything has to end and i think this is it for me and the hshq gang. i'm not opposed to writing with you guys again but idk how likely it is since the only reason why i was still on tumblr was hshq ahah

what else would you like to say ?

i agree with everything that has already been said and i think we did something special here. everyone did their part and everyone participated in such innovative ways, i respect everyone here greatly for it. it feels like i've grown up with you and the characters and it's a weird feeling to walk off now. everyone knew this day was going to come but now that it's here, i really don't want to accept it. i'm so glad i found hshq and you <3

#hshqtask059

9 notes · View notes

marksbear · 1 year

Note

Hi Mark! If your request are still open I was wondering if you could do male reader x arthur fleck. So male reader save arthur when he got beat up by a bunch of teenagers and have a little chat with him then they exchange numbers, start texting or calling eachother results in arthur having a huge crush on reader. Then arthur confess to reader and reader also likes arthur so they just kinda make out a bit then cuddle each other.

warnings!! Detailed make out, Jumping, fighting

ARTHUR FLECK X MALE READER

You were on your lunch break from work and decided to walk around the streets to kill time. After only being outside for about seven minutes a group of kids run past you laughing and shouting ,and some of the kids bump into.

You rolled your eyes and mumbled "Kids these days" from under your breath and with a scoff. You were about to keep enjoying the walk when suddenly a clown runs past you. You stare at the clown with a confused face as he passes by chasing the kids. It takes you a little second to hear that hes screaming "Stop them!!!" At first a little part of you just wanted to finish your food and get back to work, but the universe is telling you to help the clown. "Fuck it." You say to yourself and drops the lunch on the ground and starts to chase after the clown and the kids.

It doesn't take you long to reach the alleyway and witness the clown being smashed with the board. Your heart drops a little and starts to second guess yourself for trying to play the hero. When the kids started to kick the clown your body acted on its own.

You had run to the fight and picked up one of the bigger parts of the smashed board and slammed it onto one of the kids back that made them fall to the floor. And that caught them by surprise and ran instead of helping their friend. You looked down at the kid and told him to scram and he did without arguing.

You turn around looking at the clown who's beaten up badly on the floor. You kneel down next to him and help him lay on his back. You start to pat him down checking for wounds. A hand grabs your wrist and you look at the man.

"You poor thing." You say looking at the clown who is in very bad shape. You put him on his feet slowly and you sling his arm over your shoulder and walk back to your job. You take the back door of your job to avoid questions as to why you're bringing a clown to work. Once yall make it inside you take him towards your office to sit him down and uses the first aid kit to patch him up.

The clown was awake when you were taking care of him you just figured that he was too weak to talk. "Arthur..." you turn to look at him "Im y/n" You say back with a smile. "C-can I get your number so I can return the favor. Y-you saved me Y/n" Arthur says wholeheartedly grabbing onto your hands. "Yeah It's (YOUR NUMBER) and if you can't remember all of that i'll write it for you" You find a marker and write your number on his arm.

3rd point view

After that encounter with Arthur and Y/n they kept in touch always texting and calling each other whenever they had a chance. Today Y/n had invited Arthur to his house just to hangout and watch movies together.

The pair went through one long movie and two short films all three were about Romance. Arthur had suggested the three movies but was a nervous wreck about watching anything romantic with you. which Y/n is chill about and reassuring that he has nothing to be embarrassed about.

It was another short film but the two romantic partners was a gay couple. Arthur became even more nervous like what if y/n was homophobic and screams and beats on him when he finds out that Arthur likes men. So throughout the film Arthur glances at you every so often to your reaction.

"What a cute film. Reminds me of my ex bf and I" Y/n says with a chuckle facing Arthur. Arthur slowly turns to face the reader and asks quietly "You like boys?..." Y/n just smiles at Arthur and responds with "Well yeah. Im (YOUR SEXUALITY)" Y/n pats Arthur head and searches for something else that they can watch.

"Y/n..." Arthur says quietly almost like whispering. Y/n turns his head to face his friend and smiles at him and hums. "I-I like boys too!" That causes Y/n to smile and thank him for coming out to him. "A-and I like this one boy that i can't stop thinking about. H-he makes me feel safe and that life is worth living for. I'm in love with the boy..." Arthur says with the largest smile

Y/n hearts aches and his bright smile slowly becomes a frown. How could Arthur love someone that's not him. The thought of that almost makes Y/n bust down in tears. But he pulls himself together after realizing that Arthur feels happy with the boy and when Arthur's happy hes happy.

"Wow. When do I get to meet prince charming-" Y/n gets cut off when Arthur grabs onto his head and kisses him. Without thinking Y/n kissing him back and warping his arms on Arthur's waist. The newly couple feeling in heaven when their lips locked and tongue dancing. The pair only pull away from each other for air but dive back into the make-out after catching their breaths. Y/n running his hands all over Arthur's back and bringing him closer.

Y/n pulls Arthur onto his lap and pulls away from Arthur's lips and laying his head onto Arthur shoulders whispering sweet nothings to him while Arthur giggles and plays with Y/n hair.

#dc x male reader #joker x male reader #arthur fleck #Arthur Fleck x male reader #x male reader #the bear club

71 notes · View notes

just-an-enby-lemon · 1 year

Text

Cluemaster: Hey, bro, I know I never call...

Kiteman: You did drunk call me that one time.

Cluemaster: I already said I was sorry for spreading around that you were in love with your kite and calling you to brag about it. As you said I was hella drunk and angry your weird ass podcast somehow now has the same level of fans as my old gameshow. Who the fuck cares that much about kites? Or C list vilany?

Kiteman: Did you just call to remind me why I hate you?

Cluemaster: Of course not, Chucky boy, your my favorite lil bro.

Kiteman: Arthur... I'm your only brother.

Cluemaster: Yeah? You're still my favorite.

Kiteman: Okay. Fine. What do you want?

Cluemaster: You're good with kids right?

Kiteman: Oh do you want me to babysit little Steph? I haven't see her since she was a baby! That'll be soo much fun!

Cluemaster: Oh, no, no. She is too old for a babysitter. I kindda called 'cause I need your advice.

Kiteman: Sure. Go on.

Cluemaster: How would you stop a prank war between your teen daugther and your bussiness partner that happens to be living at your house?

Kiteman: Woah. Define prank war?

Cluemaster: Like they just being annoying with each other... like non-stop Shrek music and painting one of her walls green?

Kiteman: Are you working with a child, Artie?

Cluemaster: No. Childrem are not really good at puzzle robberies.

Kiteman: So who the hell is in a prank war with your fourteen year old daugther? Is it that Polka Dot weirdo?

Cluemaster: ... Riddler.

Kiteman: Be honest, Arthur.

Cluemaster: I am!

Kiteman: Why the fuck would he work with you? Didn't he like was brought on to one of your trials and tried to sue you for being a copycat?

Cluemaster: No idea. I don't really remember all my trials.

Kiteman: Fair. Still isn't he like an actual treat? Like Batman actually tries to be always involved in his crimes instead of just sending a Robin or a cop kindda treat? Or hangs out with Cooblepot and Harley Quinn and fucking Catwoman and even Scarecrow and Joker kindda treat?

Cluemaster: Yes, so what?

Kiteman: He is waaay above your league. How the fuck do you got him to work with you?

Cluemaster: He is working for me because he recognizes my genius.

Kiteman: *sarcasm* Yeah, sure. At least it explains why I've been hearing that your plans don't totally suck anymore.

Cluemaster: Will you help me or not?

Kiteman: Anything for little Steph. But seriusly bro, the guy is a mentally instable killer, he is real Arkham loonie, A-lister and all this shit are you sure is safe to have him living with you? Specially if he and Stephanie are fighting!? She is just a kid! What if this prank war thing escalates and next thing she is in saw type death trap or something?

Cluemaster: Well than help me not to! I can't just kick him out, do you know how much I've been proffiting later?

Kiteman: And also he is an instable killer that used to hate you and wouldn't react well to being kicked out?

Cluemaster: Yeah, this too. Look I think you're overestimating the guy. He is smart and all and he can take a punch but I could take him out real easy in a one on one. He screamed like a little girl when he found a roach in the kitchem. I think I'll be fine.

Kiteman: Sure, you do you.... Maybe.... you could just.... help them find something they have in common? A TV show they like or something. It used yo work with us. They will bond over the thing and forget they hate each other for a bit.

Cluemaster: See was it that hard to help me?

*Chuck hangs up*

[Three months later]

Cluemaster: Chuck! I need help!

Kiteman: Can you call in another time? I'm bowlling with the guys, Calendar Man and Condiment King cannot win a second time, one weird rap about their love conquering all was ENOUGHT.

Cluemaster: Is about the whole prank war between Nygma and Stephanie thing.

Kiteman: Oh. So I guess my advice didn't work.

Cluemaster: No, no, it did. It worked way to well actually.

Kiteman: *worried* That sounds bad.

Cluemaster: Yeah... it happened that the thing they had in common was that they really hate me.

#this might be the start of a brown family au #because i have a lot of feelings about them #for me kiteman is actually a pretty chill down to earth guy besides the whole kite crimes thing #and instead of the tragic backstory were his kid died in the dumbest riddler plan ever #he just always wanted to have a family but he is too akward and has some nd coding and didn't had the chance yet #so he wants to bond with steph because she is his niece and all #but he and arthur don't have a good or stable relationship and he haven't been there for steph and she doesn't even know about him #so he is just afraid of talking to her #he and arthur started fighting because their parents divorced when they were 13/15 and they stayed with different parents #also while i preffer charlie a lot Cluemaster is a B Lister here while Kiteman is a C/D Lister #Kiteman is friends with all Gotham C-listers with the exception of Polka Dot Man because they just don't hang in the same places #they have some misinformation about each other and think the other is a freak but they would be pals if they meet #cluemaster hangs with b listers and non gothamite c listers #chuck actually got relieved after the last bit cause he imagine grooming or steph becaming a killer or smt real bad #he actually likes Riddler a bit after that because sibbling rivalry and because he is starting to realize Arthur is a shitty dad #Eddie did try to sue Arthur in Arthur's first trial #he was called to testimony why Arthur shouldn't go to Arkham and it was when he discovered that you can't copyright a criminal mo #it was also his first time on trial cause some rogues are considered unfit to stand trial and he is one of them #riddler #edward nygma #stephanie brown #arthur brown #cluemaster #kiteman #chuck brown #cheatday is @sillymanwithocs ship I'm just borowing it

24 notes · View notes

azumasoroshi · 1 year

Text

minidura chapter 2 react (izaya has stopped functioning)

i already forgot what i named the last post whoops

anyway

shizuo jumpscare

as a psychology student who is also taking sociology goddamn do i love the whole community aspect of durarara and the forms. wish i could start a festival in my town just by suggesting it online somewhere. it's so cool how you have no idea of the qualifications of the people you talk to (just like on tumblr except this is all ikebukuro people. and izaya)

i wonder if izaya being the only member of the cast (afaik) to not live in ikebukuro is symbolic of how he feels has to distance himself from the chaos at least a little bit in order to not get swept up in it himself. it's like a self restraint type thing

that's probably really obvious though forgive me im still dutsing off my character analysis lack-of-skills ANYWAY

tom is such a malewife honestly

i dont think ive ever had chocolate bananas before. huh. strawberries sure bananas nah

he looks so cute in that last panel ghghghjhhrhghgghjf

i dont get to see enough of normal laid back shizuo behavior with all the shizaya art i look at lmfAOO

i swear to god if celty's in a kimono 💀 shinra is about to be the most annoying man alive

stupid puns my beloved

the way tom's eyes are drawn in that last panel reminds me of like. american cartoon but i cant put my finger on it

is it arnold from the magic school bus or is it arthur from arthur. who knows

"you absolutely cant get into a fight today" ah so the peace wont last. damn

EGGPLANTZAYA

i cant wait for izaya to show up this chapter and annoy the living hell out of shizuo

maybe i should make eggplantzaya my profile picture (i wont because im too attached to rantaro. not even him as a character just the profile picture) (also because i cant remember where i found the profile picture and im too scared to let it go)

i see that blurb with the really cute izaya picture on the left and im assuming it's just a "this is orihara izaya btw. he's really annoying and shizuo hates him for ruining his life" type thing but god i wish i could read it anyway ill take any crumbs

HERE HE COMES!!!!!!!

oh nvm he's getting shafted for now, we transition to-

WHAT DID I FUCKING TELL YOU

celty in a kimono is inevitable. you cannot escape

she is cute though <3 this might be her first festival since she's irish too damn

that just reminded me god i wish celty talked in a super thick irish accent. some people have already mentioned that but im reiterating it because maybe some abridged series will consider it

wait oh my god is this gonna be another hotpot party type "izaya organized all this because he's lonely and wants an excuse to hang out with people that tolerate him" thing. amazing wonderful i love the izaya slander going on in this manga today

and i was about to say "oh i guess that wasnt izaya's silhouette in the shizuo-tom panel" but he's holding a chocolate banana 💀rip tom's pay i guess

i can imagine how that went but i dont think ill have to imagine for much longer

oh yeah it was right in the next panel lmAO at least you got free food izaya dont complain

"he looks like he's having fun" awwwwwwwwwwwww nothing more fun than ticking off shizuo and not getting hurt in the process

just realized he has the constantly closed eyes pff gin ichimaru lookin edgy ass bitch

he opens his eyes like it's a dramatic supervillain reveal but it's really just him being lonely. thanks for always exposing him shinra mwah

WHY IS HE ACTING SO EVIL. doing the fucking arm spread like this is a bad thing what is wrong with him

i love how mikado shinra and celty are looking at each other like "this fucking guy. cant have one normal conversation"

PFFFFFFFFFFFF

i know shinra is laughing his ass off beneath those glasses rn

izaya's face is amazing actually. you know that one scene in bungou stray dogs wan where atsushi gets dazai a gift and dazai glitches out and stops processing information because he doesnt know how to handle appreciation. this is literally that scene

huh. now i understand why durarara and bsd always get recommended together

KILL HIM MIKADO!! KILL HIM WITH KINDNESS HE'S ALREADY HALFWAY TO HELL

literal proof that izaya ceases to function when someone actually likes him. idc that this isn't canon it's canon because i say so

(side note MAN did they have to give airi noticable cleavage even in her chibi form. come on. you didnt do it for celty you dont have to do it to her 😭 the amount of fanservice with her drives me nuts in the main series)

my man is BROKEN just look at him

local gay baby realizes he accidentally made everyone happy. oops

walker and erika in the background too <3 they're so cute ugh

YOU DUMBASS

i knew itd be another hotpot thing oh mygod he's so. fucking idiot you couldve just tagged along with them 😭

it's only once he imagines shizuo that he snaps too pffffffffft

also namie appearance!!!!!!! hope she appears more in future chapters

10/10 chapter would bully izaya again

oops almost missed the ending drawing!! so cuteeee <3333

#shizaya #izaya orihara #shizuo heiwajima #mikado ryuugamine #celty sturulson #shinra kishitani #tom tanaka #durarara #long post #i should make a soro reacts tag actually. thatd be better for organization #i sound like a youtuber help #like and subscribe for more of my shitty commentary guys!!!

44 notes · View notes

inchidentally · 6 months

Note

JSYK I'm with you on containment breaches. Tends to go hand in hand with girlfriend harassment too. Countdown to Rebecca's account going private in 3..2..1

I can't remember which post I left tags on about that but yeah the "corporatization" of any rpf always spells trouble. it's why I don't rb any of it from the main F1/Netflix/sports accounts. LN4 media doing it is I assume with Lando's OK but even there it's a bit... uncomfortable.

rest behind a cut so nothing goes into tags

(this is probably way more than you were asking for anon but apparently these text posts is what I do now)

look. carlando was my main ship when I got into F1 fandom and is going to stay in my top 3 forever. but I keep the lines drawn nice and sharp. I l-o-v-e shipping them but I'm also aware that they're literally big brother/little brother and that all of the physicality and closeness is identical to Charles with Arthur. that and the fact that Carlos is sahuuuuuper straight and folks just confuse euro dude behavior with friends for gayness. Carlos was the one who pushed for Lando to grow up and get a gf and Carlos himself was practically engaged for 6 or 7 years. his own sister gave Isa her wedding bouquet ffs. he's so confirmed heterosexual that he can't be alone for more than 2 seconds between girlfriends lol

but between McLaren content on social media getting absolutely bombarded with irrelevant carlando comments and the hate toward Rebecca ramping up every single damn day (I'd say it's a solid 80/20 mostly of rpf hate toward her and the remaining being plain old jealousy) idk it's not feeling good rn. and it's mostly on IG and a bit on YT (I don't use twitter) but yikes at how much Lando content has something about 'he's thinking about Carlos' or 'omg just like Carlos' or carlando when it's nothing to do with carlando. Lando works so incredibly hard at the two to three careers he's running consecutively and it feels pretty damn insulting to reduce him to one F1 friend - however close they are. Carlos has nothing to do with Quadrant or Lando's YT work or his own sponsorship work. that's Lando doing all of that.

that and when the Today show interviewer pushed the "bromance" angle you could see Lando get kind of fed up (which they tried to edit out) and steer the question back around to actual racing. tbh he even seemed a little icked by DTS making such a big deal about carlando and he and Max joked it off.

even through my Singapore euphoria I could tell Carlos and Lando were walking media ppl back from going too literal with the DRS and saying no, it was advantageous for Carlos and yes, Lando absolutely would've overtaken him if he could have gotten the win for himself. I've actually really respected Lando reminding people that they're not in these rarefied positions to do anything other than try to win or as close to it as possible. they're not making millions and living the high life just to throw race results in the air and play favorites with their friends !!??

and this whole "competition" between carlando and dando/charlos/landoscar/whatever is absolutely not making it's way onto my blog lol. I do know that a lot of people in tumblr are just joking when they do that and I think the 'angst' posts are funny but wow IG and YT are not playing around. they're making videos trying to like disprove other Lando ships and it's ??? (funniest one is the Vegas opening ceremony thing and fighting over who Lando was waving to, Daniel or Carlos) these dudes are absolutely not having real life in-fighting about which of their friends they like "better" or who is their bestest friend. (especially when Lando in the same interview as above stated that F1 drivers - Carlos included - are not his actual private life friends so uh oh how does that play into the competition?? it's so absurd)

I'm not a wives and girlfriends obsessive but I absolutely I am not here for them receiving anything negative from F1 fans unless they themselves have instances truly, openly as problematic as the drivers often are. even then I'm wary bc the sexism motive and double standards run so deep in fandom against women. Rebecca has done nothing but exist as Carlos' gf and it's just a sea of "there's something fake about her" and "body experts" claiming the relationship is fake and that she's "obviously a beard" while he's actually with Lando. that last part craaaaacks me tf up because these men travel to Middle Eastern countries where homosexuality has the death penalty or prison.......... they are NOT gonna be out here referring to themselves publicly as a bromance and their ship name if they're trying to keep this huge gay secret while they tour maximum home o'fobic countries???

I have a few extra thoughts about why folks have especially latched onto being proprietary about which men Lando is closest to or "should be with" when it comes to rpf but I feel like we all kinda know why. I'm over here writing pages of text about him which is lame in it's own way - but even I acknowledge that his greatest attraction as a person is himself and not his relationships to other people. it's why he's the sun that a lot of this content orbits around.

I'm also genuinely glad that Lily's existence and Oscar's quiet but firm reminders of her arrived alongside the landoscar fandom happening. I don't personally see any hate toward her and no one's in denial. even the rare fic that has him and Lily fictionally break up is fully fair to her. I've also posted a lot about how I genuinely love real life Lando and Oscar interaction even more than the rpf (and I love the rpf lol) and honestly the feeling seems shared with a lot of us from what I've seen. so especially if Lily uses her engineering degree to start working in F1 it's good to know that she won't have to deal with crazed conspiracy theories about her being an F1 industry plant to keep Oscar's dick out of Lando's hole or whatever.

for anyone who's read this far or skipped to the end tldr I'm always going to ship carlando and landoscar (and even dando) as well as charlos. but as a carlando shipper I really hope the commodification of it dies down before it truly starts to piss off Lando or Carlos. or Carlos has to put his foot down like Lando did and say hey, stop harassing my girlfriend it's weird.

shit's just been feeling very 'forced' lately to the point of imploding and I'm uncomfy :/

#been sitting on this a couple days to try and bury it lol #I hope I made myself clear #it's also why I chuckled at the homophobic outraged anon I got a while back bc they were so far off the mark #mine #//wank adjacent ig #inchreplies

6 notes · View notes

alphashley14 · 11 months

Text

One of Us

A Scooby Doo: Mystery Incorporated/Mystery Skulls Crossover

Chapter 19

No One Ever Really Dies

After fleeing the lounge, Ricky and the kids hurried into Fred and Daphne’s room and shut and locked the door behind them.

Once inside, they stood around the door and listened.

“I don’t hear anything. What about you Scoob?” Fred asked.

“Not a thing,” Scooby confirmed.

“Even the best of friends argue,” Daphne said.

“She’s right,” Ricky said. “They love each other too much to resort to violence. No matter what they’re fighting about.”

The six of them backed away and sat around the room to talk.

“So like um…” Shaggy plopped down into a chair, “can we talk about… that?”

“Shaggy’s right. We need to be on the same page about this,” Velma agreed.

“I just can’t believe that sweet little dog turned out to be…” Daphne left the end of her sentence open-ended, but everyone knew what she meant.

“I trust him,” Ricky said, to all of their surprises.

“Like really?” Shaggy exclaimed.

“But why?” Scooby asked.

“Whatever he was in the past, he isn’t the same guy who’s comforted me today more times than I care to mention,” Ricky said. “I don’t need to remind you all that I have regrets too. But I’ve realized that I was wrong and I’m doing something about it. He didn’t get to finish telling us his story, but it should be obvious to us all that he did the same thing. And unlike me he’s had centuries to do so.”

“He’s right,” Velma said, thinking back to how Mystery had told her about magic. “If he was the same fox who did all of those things back then, I don’t think any of us would even be standing here right now. If he wanted to hurt us, he’s had infinite opportunities to do so by now. Not to mention that he wanted our trust enough to tell me what his achilles heel is.”

“Yeah but like, that’s assuming he’s telling the truth,” Shaggy said.

“I think he has good intentions,” said Scooby, remembering how Mystery had exacted justice on his behalf when the scary priest in the painting had come at him earlier.

“I think so too, just from what we’ve seen and what we’ve been told so far,” Daphne said. “But, I think it’s important that we all remember that we don’t have all of the facts yet. Mystery didn't finish his story.”

“Is it wrong of me to say that I’m kind of glad he didn’t?” Fred asked, anxiously messing with his ascot. “It’s- a lot.”

“I feel exactly the same way,” Ricky agreed. “Also, adding onto this discussion, I would like to point out that even if we didn’t trust the Mystery Skulls, I believe that continuing to cooperate with them is presently the more strategically sound thing to do. If it weren’t for the Mystery Skulls, my old group would have us vastly outgunned and outnumbered right now. Not that I’m calling you kids incapable. Because it’s honestly impressive how difficult it’s been to get one up on you. But if they cornered us somehow…”

“He’s right,” Velma said thoughtfully. “The Mystery Skulls actually have a pretty good chance of overpowering them, even without our help.”

“But if they’re so strong,” Scooby said with a tilt of his head, “then why don’t they just barge in and rescue Arthur?”

“Actually, yeah. I was sort of wondering the same thing,” Daphne said thoughtfully.

“The situation’s too delicate for that,” Ricky replied. “Right now to Professor Pericles, Arthur- or rather I, am a tool. But if we barged in and tried to rescue Arthur- or me, then we’d need to get the remote from Pericles. And he’s so smart that chances are he’d realize what we were there for before we could do that. He might even realize that the swap’s taken place. And if that happens, I can’t begin to describe how monumentally bad that would be. Because then Arthur’s not just a tool anymore - he becomes a hostage. And I think we all know what the first of his demands would be.”

“The planispheric disc!” Mystery Inc. exclaimed at once.

“Like he’s right. He’s totally right!” Shaggy cried.

“And even if we gave him the disc, there’s no garuntee he’d give Arthur or Mr. E or whoever’s in that body back,” Fred added. “Because as long as he has a hostage, he’s got a way of making sure we don’t interfere with his plans.”

“Which means that as much as we don’t like it,” Ricky walked over to the window and leaned against the glass, looking out over the twisted forest. “The covert operation that Arthur has going on right now is the best chance we have of getting him back safely. I just hope he stays safe in the process.”

Ricky talked with the kids for another twenty minutes before they bid each other goodnight and at last retired to their rooms for the evening.

As soon as he was back in the seclusion of his room, the entire day finally hit him all at once. Ricky felt like he hadn’t slept in fifteen chapters. He was suddenly so tired. Had it really been only a day? It felt more like seven months.

But as much as he wanted to collapse face-first onto that huge bed and pass out for the rest of this chapter (assuming nothing weird happened in his dreams this time and his insomnia hadn’t followed him to this body), Ricky knew he’d feel monumentally better after a shower.

Ricky looked over to the bathroom with a sigh and repeated what Fred and Mystery had told him earlier. “We’re both guys… it’s only as weird as I make it. Don’t make it weird…”

The problem was that it was already weird. Ricky had grown more accustomed to what existing in Shaggy’s body felt like, but the shower really forced him to feel the difference. Then there was Shaggy’s hair. Washing Ricky’s hair was a process. Shaggy’s hair on the other hand was as easy as wash, rinse, fluff it with a towel at the end, and- oh wow. Hair’s basically dry already. All done.

So. If he was looking for plus sides to this whole situation, he supposed he could add that to the list: showers were easy.

After he was dried off, Ricky got dressed to go to sleep, brushed his teeth, turned out the lights, then finally climbed into bed.

As absolutely magical as the bed was, Ricky laid awake for a long time, letting his thoughts drift wherever they wanted to go. He thought a lot about today. But time and time again, his thoughts wandered back to Cassidy. Until finally, he gave up and stopped trying not to think of her.

She would have loved all of this, he thought to himself. Vivi’s a fighter, just like her. They would have gotten along well. She might’ve been cautious of Mystery, but he would have adored her. She wouldn’t’ve been afraid of Lewis either. And the Dead Beats would have made her laugh. A mental image came to mind. Of her. Laughing as the little pink spirits nuzzled and crowded around her for pets like they had to him and the kids earlier. The thought brought a smile to his lips.

As nice a thought as it was, it was never going to happen. And it was all his fault.

Are you here now? Could you have come back as a ghost? Like Lewis?

No. Ricky didn’t want that for her. If she came back as a ghost, then what if she came back as a weak spirit, like the painting ghosts? Stuck in one place? Trapped where she’d died? Clinging to her humanity and always struggling to not be consumed by stronger beings? Like the wild world of yokai Mystery had described. God, no. Not Cassidy. After all she’d been through, she deserved peace.

But… where exactly?

The Mystery Skulls talked about life after death as if there was more than one. If that were true, then perhaps he and Cassidy would truly never meet again. But maybe it was better that way. Wherever she was… all he wanted was what was best for her. But what did he know? Basically nothing. He would have to ask one of the Mystery Skulls about it when he got the chance.

“Wherever you are,” he prayed to her quietly, “I hope you’re at peace, somewhere worthy of you. And I’m- Oh Angel… Cassidy I’m so sorry…”

Maybe Ricky was just that exhausted. And perhaps not being in the body of an insomniac had something to do with it too. The last words that slipped past his lips before Ricky cried himself to sleep came out barely a whisper.

“I love you…”

༻˚⁺･⚉｡○✼༓☾⦾♫෴♡💛♡෴♫⦾☽༓✼○｡⚉･⁺˚༺

“It’s done,” Lewis said, popping back into the room through the table in front of them. Marcie shrieked and nearly sent Arthur’s coffee flying across the room, but Arthur reached out and caught it before it could spill.

“Dude. You did that on purpose,” Arthur said dryly.

“Maybe,” Lewis shrugged. “It was funny tho.”

“It wasn’t funny to me!” Marcie protested.

“Sorry,” Lewis said, not sounding remorseful. He flew up to Arthur’s head level and flipped upside down. “But to be fair, I don’t get people I can mess with very often. What’s the point of being a ghost if you can’t at least have a little fun with it right?”

“Yeah,” Marcie half-laughed, “I guess so.”

“Is there anything else I can do to help while I’m here? Anything at all?” Lewis asked.

“You’ve done plenty,” Arthur said. “Seriously Lewis. We may not have been able to pull this off without your help. Just out of curiosity, how many different tracking devices and bugs did you find on the Enigma Machine?” Arthur asked.

“Four,” Lewis replied.

“And what did you do with them?”

“Hid them in the ceiling above the vehicle. Just like you said. When you make your escape, the tracking systems will show that the van is still in the garage. They won’t be able to track it.”

“And you weren’t seen?”

“Come on man, you know me. I’ve had plenty of practice avoiding breathers and fucking with security cameras by now,” Lewis said, flipping over so he was upright once more.

“How foolish of me to doubt you,” Arthur said jokingly.

“Yeah Arthur. Why’d you do that?”

They laughed, but soon broke off into silence as an unpleasant truth hung in their air between them.

“I don’t want to leave you,” Lewis said sadly at last.

“And I don’t want you to go,” Arthur admitted, pulling his friend into a hug. “But we both know why you have to.”

“Your plan will work. It has to,” Lewis said.

“And when it does, I’ll see you on the road the night after next.”

“But until then, know that you’ll never be off my mind. Just- remember, Arthur. If you need me for any reason, you can send a message through the Dead Beats.”

“I know. Thanks, Lewis.” Arthur said.

They pressed their foreheads together for a long moment, a final goodbye, before Lewis turned to Marcie. “Take care of him,” he beseeched her. “Arthur’s the smartest idiot I know. He could build a whole new world with that brain of his, but he’ll get so focused on it that he’ll forget to do important being-alive things. Like eating. Or sleeping. Or occasionally taking a shower.”

“Hey! I- do not!”

“Oh yeah? How many meals have you eaten today?”

Arthur opened and closed his mouth, then pursed his lips in thought. “...Does one singular donut count as ‘brunch’?”

“No it does not. Eat something, Kingsmen!” Lewis barked.

“All right. All right. You have my word. I’ll scrounge something together.”

“And you’ll sleep?”

“... Yyyyes…” Arthur groaned.

“But you’re going to eat something first.” Lewis said.

“Fine! Look, Lew! This is me, going to eat something!” Arthur said loudly as he marched into the kitchen.

Lewis’ scowl softened into a smile as he watched Arthur disappear into the other room. Then he turned back to Marcie once more. “Hey. Uhm. I know you’re doing a lot as it is, but I meant what I said. Take care of him… please.”

“Don’t worry. I will,” Marcie nodded.

“Seriously. Thank you. The only reason I’m not an anxiety-ridden mess is because I know he’s not totally alone in here.”

“You are an anxiety-ridden mess,” Marcie corrected.

Lewis barked a laugh. “I guess that’s true. So… it seems like you’re taking this really well. You’re definitely less hesitant to believe all this than Velma was. Any reason why?”

“I mean Arthur had the Dead Beats as proof of the paranormal from the get-go, so I guess I’ve had a while to come to terms with the whole ‘ghosts are real’ thing before I met you. Other than that, I did have my doubts as to whether he’s really not Mr. E for most of today. Until…”

“What?”

“I made one reference. Just one. And the next thing I knew, Arthur had to physically restrain himself from going on a rave about Smash Bros trivia. We got refocused back to the task at hand pretty quick, but that’s definitely when I knew for sure. Mr. E would never.”

Lewis snorted. “Yeah! That sounds like Arthur!” When Arthur came back into the room, eating the final bites of a ham and cheese sandwich, he didn’t say a word about Lewis being gone. Marcie supposed that for them, just leaving was easier. Or else they’d never be able to let each other go.

Marcie was tempted to ask Arthur if he was okay, but he spoke up as she was opening her mouth to do so. “You should eat something too. I would’ve made you a sandwich too, but I didn’t know what you liked or if you were vegetarian or anything like that.”

“I’m not vegetarian but yeah. I’ll eat something. Speaking of… it’s getting pretty late you know. Are you… going to sleep soon?”

“Eventually.”

“How about a shower?”

Arthur snorted. “Not a chance in Hell.”

༻˚⁺･⚉｡○✼༓☾⦾♫෴♡💛♡෴♫⦾☽༓✼○｡⚉･⁺˚༺

Ricky dreamed that night. Of her, of course.

The last time Ricky ever saw her was in the forest when all five members of the original Mystery Incorporated met together for the first time in 20 years. After Pericles made his offer and flew away, Brad and Judy had left in a huff, at that time still pretending that they were acting in the best interest of their son. Leaving Ricky and Cassidy alone beneath the moonlit trees.

“The nerve of that bird,” she’d scoffed, angrily kicking a tree root. “Who the hell does he think he is?”

Ricky just scowled, trying to hide how tempted he was to take him up on his offer. He didn’t trust Pericles. Their relationship would never be what it was. But… he missed him. As hard as he denied it, he missed his old friend. Having lost his every friend and ally, Ricky was alone. He hated being alone.

Unless…

“He’s right you know,” Ricky had said.

And Cassidy had whirled around to scold him, “You can’t possibly be considering-!”

“Of course not!” (He’d lied both to her and himself that night, of course.) “I just mean that us, working together… we’d have a better chance at getting the pieces than we would by ourselves. My offer still stands, Cassidy. You’re smart. Resourceful. Strong. I want you back on my team.”

Looking back, she’d looked almost hopeful at first. But as soon as ‘getting the pieces’ left his mouth she had turned sad, her disappointment in him evident. “And my answer is the same,” she sighed. “I told you already, Ricky. I won’t hurt those kids.”

“Right,” Ricky had said bitterly, “Because they’re good kids. What was it you said? Better than we were?”

“We were good once too,” she muttered.

“You were a child.” Wait- what was that? A newer memory, the voice of a newer friend, echoing in his ears.

“You were a good kid.” What was he doing? He could be good again. This didn’t have to end the same way it had been the first time. He could save her. She didn’t have to die!

“And he took advantage of that.” But even as these thoughts occurred to Ricky, everything he wanted to say was trapped at the back of his throat.

“Goodbye Ricky,” and then she was leaving.

NO! IF YOU LET HER GO YOU’LL NEVER SEE HER AGAIN!

Ricky tried to move but his feet were rooted to the spot. He tried to talk, to shout her name, but no sound would come out. He reached out, trying to catch her, but she was just out of reach.

NO. NO NO NO NO!

But he watched her walk away, just as he had back then. And as she vanished into the darkness of the trees the memory of another familiar voice, a more cruel voice, echoed in his ears.

“Would you like to know how she died?”

“NO!”

Ricky shot up, wide awake in a cold sweat. He had to look around for several moments as he recalled where he was and why. He was safe. In Lewis’ mansion. The forest was but one in a long series of regrets. And Cassidy-

She’s gone.

Ricky took several deep breaths and fell back onto the pillows.

Fuuuuuck.

Figures he couldn’t go one night without something weird or otherwise unpleasant happening in his dreams. Granted - he hadn’t ended up in another dimension this time, so this was arguably an improvement. Arguably. As in Ricky could also argue that he preferred the Sitting Room. Seriously, the realities of the waking world were unpleasant as it is. Why did his brain have to torture him when he was asleep, too?

Just then, his stomach made a noise akin to the sound of a dying whale.

“Fuck you Shaggy,” Ricky grumbled in the dark. But he felt bad as soon as the words left his mouth. It wasn’t Shaggy’s fault that his body for some reason required breakfast, second breakfast, elevensies, luncheon, afternoon tea, dinner, and supper. It was genetics- some kind of disorder- something. In any case, something wasn’t right.

Come to think of it, how is he not constantly shitting with how much he eats? And how is he not as fat as me while shitting all the time? Where does the food go? Is this kid’s stomach a portal to another dimension???

Ah, the thoughts one has while tired as fuck at- Ricky glanced over at the alarm clock to see what godforsaken hour of the night it had the audacity to be - 2:51 in the morning.

Also, speaking of shitting, he kinda needed to go to the bathroom anyway.

Grumbling in I-don’t-want-to-get-up, Ricky reluctantly left the bed’s warm comfort. Fuck, he’d been all cozy from his body heat warming the covers and the inside of the mansion was cold - especially at night. But what else should he expect from a haunted house? Ricky turned the bedside lamp on, retrieved his jacket from where it was lying at the foot of his bed, and quickly put it on.

He used the facilities, then went to the door. He glanced over at the clock again. It was now 3:00 am - the witching hour. Was it a good idea to wander the halls of a haunted house during the witching hour? Probably not. But based on the off-key didgeridoo noises his stomach was making, this stupid body wasn’t going to leave him alone until he fed it. So he really didn’t have much choice if he wanted so much as a chance of getting a wink of more sleep.

Ricky stepped out into the hall. Fuck - it was dark. Fortunately there were nightlights at pretty regular intervals in the halls for the living, so he wasn’t wandering completely blind. He was fine leaving the East Wing and the few turns after that. Living and working at Destroido meant that he was used to remembering his way through large buildings. He heard footsteps once or twice with no one attached to them, weird glowing orbs darted in and out of sight, and at one point he thought he heard voices muttering. But he didn’t meet any ghosts. That is until-

Uh-oh. Which way was it again?

Left or right? Should he just walk to the end of each hall and see if anything looked familiar? Dammit, where were the Dead Beats when you needed-

Scrrrrraaape

Such a quiet sound was deafening in the silent hallway. Ricky froze.

Scraaape- Scrrrrrraaape

Ricky gulped and turned his head in the direction of the noise.

Ding-dong Daddy-o…

One of the suits of armor had moved. From its usual frozen position to leaning forward with its head turned in Ricky’s direction, glowing pink eyes beneath its mask fixed right on him.

Ricky gulped. Lewis said they protect the mansion. “U-uh… I-I’m a guest…” he stuttered, fiddling with his fingers, feeling very silly and very scared. “I uh, I got hungry. Could you uh- tell me which way the kitchen is?

Scccrrrape Scrrrraaape

The suit of armor moved again, pointing towards the left.

“Oh-” Ricky had kind of not expected it to answer him, much less help. “T-thanks.”

Scrrrraaape Scrape Scraaape

The suit of armor briefly bowed to him, then motioned for him to be on his way.

Heart pounding, Ricky’s whole body felt stiff with fear as he took the route to the left. He could hear the armor’s head turning as it watched him go. As he came to the next hallway (he remembered where he was now), he heard a bunch more scraping behind him as the possessed armor returned to its usual frozen position.

Well that was terrifying yet helpful.

Just as terrifying yet equally helpful, every suit of armor Ricky passed from then on pointed in the direction Ricky needed to go. Until finally, very creeped out and not wanting to make any more noise from the metal moving, Ricky told one of the suits of armor as politely as he could that he remembered which way to go from here, but that he appreciated all of their help. The armor bowed to him, resumed its original position, and none of them moved after that.

Soon after that, came into the foyer, where he was happy to see a familiar troop of pink friends playing tag near the ceiling, zooming around the chandelier. As he stepped out of the doorway, one of the Dead Beats spotted him and pointed him out to his friends, who all made happy trilling noises as they zoomed down to give him nuzzles and demand pets. Trying to stay quiet, Ricky laughed, scritching their heads. “Hey you guys. Boy, am I happy to see you. I’m on my way to the kitchen for a midnight snack. Would you like to keep me company?”

The Dead Beats were delighted to do just that.

Then at last, Ricky made it into the kitchen.

Ricky opened the fridge and squinted from the glare of the bright artificial light, his eyes having adjusted to the dark house. He was looking for a drink when-

“Ricky?”

Ricky jumped and banged his head on the top of the fridge with a curse.

“Oof, you okay dude?”

“Lewis?” Ricky turned around, rubbing the soon-to-be bump on his head. The ghost was standing by the doorway with a couple more Dead Beats. “You’re back. And- What’re you doing up?”

“I’m a ghost,” Lewis shrugged. “I don’t exactly need sleep. What’re you doing up?”

“Uh- couldn’t sleep. And I got hungry.”

Lewis snorted. “You just missed Scooby. He was in here for a midnight snack not half an hour ago.”

“Ah. That explains why the fridge doesn’t look as packed as it did earlier,” Ricky said. Right then, one of the Dead Beats floated over to him helpfully with a bag of pretzels. Ricky thanked him and then turned back to Lewis. “So. How was Arthur?” He asked, popping one into his mouth.

Lewis sighed with relief. “He’s okay. Thank God. Marcie’s on board, I helped with some things, and thus far everything’s going according to his plan.”

“That’s good,” Ricky sighed, eating another handful. “So what exactly is his plan?” He asked after he swallowed.

“Actually, I needed to talk to you about that…” Lewis rubbed the back of his neck and procured a flashdrive from a pocket in his waistcoat.

Ricky abruptly stopped chewing. Why did he have a feeling that he knew what the contents of that were? He swallowed. “What’s that?” He asked.

“Proof of what happened to you,” Lewis winced.

“... Oh,” Ricky looked away. “Did uh… did you watch it?”

“No,” Lewis said. “That would be a messed up thing to do. And I’m not going to let anyone else see it without your permission either. So… are you okay with me seeing this? Or anyone else for that matter?”

“Um… let me get back to you on that. It’s- late. I know somebody should see it but- could I think about it?”

“No problem man. Take as much time as you need,” Lewis said, tucking it back in his pocket.

“Oh! Ricky. What are you doing up?” Mystery, in the form of a dog, trotted into the room and hopped up into one of the chairs.

“Ah- uh, bad dreams,” Ricky said, forgetting to lie about it. “-And a midnight snack,” he caught himself, shaking the bag of pretzels. He quickly changed the subject. “So uh, how are you and Vivi? All good?”

“What happened with Vivi?” Lewis growled.

“Tensions ran high, and we had a moment. About three years ago. But we got through it, and we’re fine now,” Mystery said, hinting very strongly to Lewis that they would talk about it when not in mixed company.

Lewis fortunately caught the hint, because he reverted the subject back to Ricky. “Gotcha. So, Ricky. Bad dreams? Do you… want to talk about it?”

“I’ve just been- thinking a lot about Cassidy,” he admitted, setting down the now-empty bag of pretzels and opening a jug of yogurt. “I know you never knew her but, I really wish you had. She was… she really was perfect.”

Ricky was too deep in self-pity to notice the panicked look Mystery and Lewis shot each other.

“I said a lot of really shitty things to her,” Ricky sighed. “Things I didn’t mean. And I just wish I could take it all back, or at least tell her how sorry I am. For all of it.”

He was completely oblivious to Mystery and Lewis silently shouting at each other on either side of him.

‘Should we tell him???’ Lewis mouthed.

‘No!’ Mystery mouthed back.

“And she would have loved this.” Ricky laughed, “Knowing her she’d be like ‘hell no’ at first. But once she got over that initial hurdle I really think she would’ve liked to learn all of this, and to meet you. And you would’ve liked her.”

‘He deserves to know!’ Lewis mouthed, gesticulating wildly.

‘Don’t say SHIT!’ Mystery swiped a paw across his throat.

‘He’s heartbroken!’

‘It’s too much!’

“She would have been a big help too,” Ricky said. “She was so smart. One of the smartest people I ever knew… and the kindest.”

‘I’m gonna tell him!’

‘Don’t you dare!’

‘We should tell him!’

“In the morning!” Mystery loud-whispered.

Ricky looked up, and Mystery and Lewis quickly snapped into “totally-not-up to-something” poses before he could notice. “Did you say something?” He asked.

“Oh- yes. Cassidy-” The dog cleared his throat. “Cassidy is a truly wonderful person. And uh- in the morning, I have a lot more to tell you and teach you that I bet she would really want to see.” Were it not past 3:00 in the morning, Ricky might have caught Mystery’s use of the word ‘is’ as opposed to ‘was’.

‘Smooth,’ Lewis mouthed at Mystery over Ricky’s head.

Mystery shot him a glare. None of that was a lie.

Just then, on its own, the radio on the counter turned on smack in the middle of a Mystery Skulls song.

“If I could do this all a-gain, If I could start o-ver, and give you everything-”

The three of them turned around to the source of the noise to see the Dead Beats floating totally guilty around the radio.

“-Yeah, I wouldn’t change a thing. As long as I have you baby- As long as I have you baby!”

Ricky just looked at them confused and listened while panicked, Mystery and Lewis comically shook their heads, ‘NO!’

And the Dead Beats stubbornly nodded, ‘YES!’

“See?” Ricky sighed, completely misinterpreting what the Dead Beats were trying to tell him. “They get it.”

As the strum of the keyboard and the thrum of the beat gave way to lyrics once more, Lewis flew across the room-

“-’Cause no one ever really diiies-”

Ricky didn’t hear the rest because Lewis cut the radio off.

“Why’d you turn it off?” Ricky asked, confused.

“I- uh- it was way too loud. You- sillies,” Lewis turned to the Dead Beats with a too-wide grin. “I know how much you love music, but do you want to wake the whole house? We’re going to have to have a talk later,” The ghost growled at them.

The Dead Beats just crossed their arms and turned away sharply. Foiled!

While Lewis glared at the Dead Beats, Mystery turned back to Ricky. “Speaking of,” the kitsune-disguised-as-a-dog said, “I really think you ought to get back to sleep.”

Ricky scoffed. “I’m not so sure that’s going to happen. Sleep doesn’t exactly come to me easily. Not to mention I’m not exactly looking forward to another nightmare.”

Mystery tilted his head, thoughtful.

The dog made a flourish with one of his paws, and a small vial appeared on the table in a flash of his foxfire.

Ricky jumped, not expecting it. The vial was half-moon-shaped, with a star-shaped cork, filled with a beautiful luminous midnight blue fluid.

“Really? You’re gonna give him that?” Lewis exclaimed. The Dead Beats were still pouting behind him.

“What is it?” Ricky asked.

“Magic,” Mystery replied. “We're acquainted with a number of potion makers and regularly enlist their services. This,” Mystery said, motioning for Ricky to pick up the bottle, “is a half-dose of dreamless sleep potion. It instantly puts its drinker into deep sleep, then awakens the drinker fast enough that the mind never enters the stage of sleep in which dreams occur. This is a half dose, meant to be taken when one wakes in the middle of the night. So it should guarantee you another five hours or so of restful slumber.”

“Just don’t get reliant on that stuff,” Lewis warned. “Trust us, we know from experience: It becomes an unhealthy coping mechanism if you use it too often.”

“So I will not allow you to use this tomorrow night under any circumstances,” Mystery added with a nod.

Ricky blinked at him for a few moments, so grateful and stunned that words failed him. “I- Thank you Mystery,” He stammered.

“Oh pish posh. It’s such a simple matter it hardly requires any thanks. But I accept it all the same.” (Bullshit. Ricky could totally tell he was enjoying the gratitude.)

“Also, don’t drink that until you’re already in bed,” Lewis cautioned. “It’ll put you out so fast that the flavor will still be on your tongue when you konk out. Arthur took it too soon one time and passed the fuck out right in the middle of the apothecary.”

“Sheesh. Strong stuff,” Ricky said, admiring the way the potion glittered.

“Hardly. Just a little magic,” Mystery chuckled. “Now off to bed with you. The faster you fall asleep the sooner you’ll wake up. There’s much to discuss in the morning.”

After Ricky finished his yogurt and two packs of popcorn, he bid Mystery and Lewis goodbye and the Dead Beats led him back to his room (Lewis discreetly made it very clear on their way out that they were still in hot water). As Ricky followed the pouting ghosts back to the East Wing, he turned the potion in his hands and wondered if Mystery had ever used it, or if he ever had trouble sleeping. He was centuries old, and had been through so much. Did he get nightmares too?

The Dead Beats led him on a different route back to the East Wing than he’d taken earlier that took them past the library. Which was why Ricky stopped, confused, in front of the doors.

The lights were on.

Curious, he walked into the library and the Dead Beats followed, chirping something that he imagined meant: “Hey, aren’t you supposed to be following us?” But Ricky ignored them.

The library was seemingly abandoned and dark, save a few lamps and the dull glow of moonlight shining through the windows. It wasn’t immediately apparent who was working this late until Ricky spotted an orange sleeve sticking out of a pile of papers at one of the desks.

“Velma?”

“TWELVE!” Velma shouted as her head shot up from the desk. Ricky and the Dead Beats jumped with surprise. She snorted and adjusted her glasses, reorienting herself back to reality from whatever she’d been dreaming about, then her bleary eyes fixed on him.

“Shaggy-? Wait. No. Sorry. Mr. E- Ricky! Sorry. What are you doing here?”

“Couldn’t sleep. What’re you doing here?” He asked, crossing his arms.

“Who could sleep in a house full of books?” She shrugged. Then she yawned, rubbing her eyes beneath her glasses.

“I’d get back to bed if I were you,” Ricky advised. “Mystery’s also awake and if he finds you in here he’ll probably scold you for neglecting your health and send you back to bed anyway.”

“Are you going to scold me?” Velma asked.

“Nah. I’m up at 3am too, so I really can’t talk,” He shrugged. “Come on. Let’s go together.”

Velma straightened her work station so it wouldn’t look like a tornado had blown through it come morning, and the two of them followed the Dead Beats back to the East Wing.

Their walk was mostly silent until they passed a familiar portrait of a scowling priest, who gave them an extremely distasteful look but didn’t dare say anything out of fear of facing Mystery’s wrath again.

That was when it occurred to Ricky that they were walking along the same stretch of hallway where he’d had that talk with Fred earlier. Also he and Velma were alone. Which made it the perfect opportunity to ask her a rather delicate question.

Ricky cleared his throat nervously. “Um, Velma?”

“Yes?”

“I uh, have a question to ask you… It’s not exactly a fun one, but uh...”

Velma straightened her spine and squared her shoulders. “Okay,” she said thoughtfully.

“I need to know how Cassidy died.”

Velma’s face softened at the question, but he saw confirmation in her eyes of what he’d already suspected.

“You were there, weren’t you?”

Velma looked away, and she didn’t answer for several long moments. She took off her glasses to wipe the wetness from her eyes with her sleeve before she got a grip, put her glasses back on, and confirmed what he already knew: “Yeah. We were there.”

Ricky’s throat closed. For her, and for the other poor kids who’d had to witness something so awful. He didn’t meet her eyes when he asked her quietly, “Did she suffer?”

Velma hesitated in her answer. None of them had seen it happen, but they were all haunted by imaginings of Cassidy’s final moments. Had she been shot by the Kriegstaffebots before the self-destruct sequence completed? Was she blown up? Had the explosion killed her instantly? Or had she been covered in burns and injuries, forced to suffer before she faded away? Or had she lasted a bit longer and drowned? Supposedly drowning was a peaceful way to go, but she must have been so scared-

“No,” Velma said firmly, no matter how much she doubted it. “It happened so fast. I’m sure she didn’t suffer.”

Ricky’s entire body sagged with relief. “Thank you, Velma."

༻˚⁺･⚉｡○✼༓☾⦾♫෴♡💛♡෴♫⦾☽༓✼○｡⚉･⁺˚༺

Professor Pericles was a homicidal maniac.

Both fortunately and unfortunately for the entirety of the human race, he was smart about being a homicidal maniac.

He didn’t just kill people whenever he felt like it. He did so with purpose, waiting until the opportune moment to remove certain pawns or obstacles from his path. Which was good for Marcie and Arthur, because it meant that they likely had a bit of time to stop Professor Pericles from killing someone in the future.

They had been working for a little under an hour after Lewis left when a stubborn little red light turned green.

Marcie nearly spat out her coffee. “I’m in!”

“Seriously?” Arthur’s head shot up excitedly from where he was hunched over his own computer, sending a couple of pages of scribbled notes falling from the side of the table. One of the Dead Beats picked them up and put them back helpfully.

“Yep. Alright, Arthur. Now what?” And with that they swapped computers, and Arthur’s face lit up in the artificial light as his eyes greedily took in the seemingly alien letters and numbers filling the screen.

Seemingly alien of course, unless you were an expert of Arthur and Marcie’s calibur. For while to untrained eyes it may look like word salad, to the two of them it was like looking into the Matrix, and at a mere glance Arthur knew that Marcie really had pulled through.

He was looking at the Kriegstaffebot program codes.

It was time to deliver the first strike. The question was: when was Pericles going to feel it?

༻˚⁺･⚉｡○✼༓☾⦾♫෴♡💛♡෴♫⦾☽༓✼○｡⚉･⁺˚༺

They went into Velma’s room to talk.

It went about as well as it could have, as painful as it was for both of them.

After Velma finished recounting Cassidy’s final hours, Ricky thanked her and returned to his own room, where he laid back in his bed, the sleeping potion still corked in his hand, and stared at the ceiling processing what he’d been told.

He blew up K-Ghoul. He. Fucking. Blew up. K-Ghoul. He destroyed her home and her livelihood, and he tried to kill her until he succeeded.

Ricky was grateful for the potion Mystery had given him, because he was so angry right now that he was certain he’d never get back to sleep otherwise.

K-Ghoul had been his gift to her when Angel Dynamite had returned to Crystal Cove. He used the excuse that she’d need a good cover to come back with her alias intact. But that wasn’t completely true. He could have just as well gotten her a job as a custodian somewhere if he wanted her to keep an eye on the town and the new Mystery Incorporated unnoticed. But she would have been miserable doing that kind of work. Angel Dynamite was a DJ, and Cassidy had always loved music. It was true that she came back to Crystal Cove for a reason. But he wanted her to be… happy. He also supposed, looking back, that he’d wanted to thank her for all the joy she'd brought him once. And to make amends in his own way, even if the words to apologize hadn’t come (yet another of his many regrets).

Their breakup was his fault. As the years went by after Pericles’ betrayal, Ricky had grown bitter and angry. And the one who got the brunt of it was the very same person who stuck by his side longer than anyone else. He never struck her. As awful a human being as the curse had twisted him into, he didn’t think he’d be able to live with himself if he ever hit Cassidy. But all the same, he’d been so… mean. And of course, no matter how much she loved him, Cassidy’s self-esteem and strength of spirit was too high to deal with his bullshit, so… They broke up.

And after all that time, Ricky had still regretted the way he’d treated her. But even though they weren’t together anymore, he… he wanted her to be happy. K-Ghoul had been his way of looking after her, as he should have done all those years ago.

And Pericles fucking blew it up. Without even consulting me. How dare he?

“He had no right…” Ricky seethed quietly, feeling more like his bitter old self than he had in a while. But this time his anger was directed at just one bird. Professor Pericles. Not the kids. Not the world. Not Cassidy-

Cassidy…

Maybe it made him a horrible person, but he couldn’t help but be a little mad at her. “Why didn’t you come to me?” He whispered into the dark, a tear falling down his cheek.

I would have protected you. I never would have let him hurt you if I knew.

But Ricky couldn’t be mad at her. Because he knew exactly why she hadn’t come to him.

She had no way of knowing that I would have chosen her. I was working with Pericles. For all she knew, I was the one trying to have her killed.

Imagining that broke Ricky’s heart all over again. That Cassidy died thinking-

Ricky sniffed and closed his eyes.

Cassidy… died.

As angry as he was, Ricky was also overwhelmingly sad.

They were in the Midnight Zone. She was surrounded by Kriegstaffebots. The lab exploded.

No. No, she would never give up! There was no corpse so maybe-

But their seal friend found her helmet. Even if she survived the blast, the weight of all that water would have killed her for sure. And even if not, there’s absolutely no way she would have been able to swim to the surface before she drowned.

There was no way out. Not even for her.

She’s gone.

In the back of Ricky’s mind, ever since he’d first learned of her death, there had been doubt. A small flicker of hope. Cassidy? Dead? It couldn’t be real. But Velma was no liar, and above that she was a realist. Hearing the facts of how it had happened from her made it… real.

She’s gone.

That was that. That was it. Ricky Owens was never going to see Cassidy Williams again and he didn’t even have a body to bury. The empty shell that had once been her was buried under rubble at the bottom of the ocean, the high walls of the trench the closest thing to a tombstone she would ever have.

She’s gone.

Pericles did it. He got rid of her. He pulled the trigger-

But I put the gun in his talons.

The weight of his own grief threatening to crush him, Ricky redirected his energy into his rage. I never should have saved him all those years ago.

He uncorked the potion and was immediately hit with an extremely strong smell. There was a lot of lavender but also other herbs and- whatever the hell that was. Ricky had no idea what he was about to ingest, but he trusted Mystery and needed to be well-rested.

She will be avenged. Her death will not be in vain! I’m going to need every bit of strength I can muster if I’m going to help-

But Ricky didn’t have a single other thought. For he’d tipped the bottle back and downed it in one gulp. And the instant after a light, minty, earthy flavor hit his tongue, Ricky’s entire body was going slack, the bottle was slipping from his fingers, and he was being enveloped in the welcome peace that slumber brought - completely dead to the world.

༻˚⁺･⚉｡○✼༓☾⦾♫෴♡💛♡෴♫⦾☽༓✼○｡⚉･⁺˚༺

Dawn came with deceptive tranquility.

The sun was peeking over the horizon and a morning mist had settled over the forest, making the mansion and the twisted, jagged trees around it seem as if they were on an island at the center of an endless gray sea.

The arrival of a long-awaited guest was marked by the rumble of a familiar engine, and the mist curling around a familiar silhouette like an angel’s wings.

Well. If any of you missed Ricky, you ought to be overjoyed with how Ricky-centered this chapter was. And you should expect the same from the next few chapters as well. If I were to map out the evolution of my plans for this chapter, they'd look like a roundabout with the number of directions this could have gone. At one point it was going to be heavily referencing the exorcist (have fun speculating what the fuck that means) (also that''s the stage I was at when I wrote the last chapter's author's notes, so sorry - I lied. It's gonna be a while before things get "nuts"), but then I realized that part would fit better later in the story. So a large chunk of this chapter was cut out, pasted somewhere else to be saved for later, and rewritten. So you guys have that to look forward to. But I'm happy with where this chapter ended up. I loved the humor and fourth wall breaks, angst is always fun to write, I liked further exploring some off-screen Rickidy interactions that may have happened in the show, and I think it ties up Ricky's grief arc in a neat little bow - right before it's smashed to pieces in the next chapter when You-Know-Who returns! (How did that accidentally become a Harry Potter reference? Oops. Lol. Though the dreamless sleep potion was inspired by the potion of the same name and function in the Harry Potter series. I just got back from Universal Studios, ok?! Harry Potter is on the brain.) Also. We got to meet the suits of armor, Lewis is back with the main group, and Arthur and Marcie have hacked into the Kriegstaffebots. What will they do with that? :D Finally, I just wanted to say that the next chapter of this fic has been living in my head rent-free for almost a year. It's one of the scenes I imagined that made me want to write this fic to begin with. So from the bottom of my heart, I can't even begin to say how excited I am to share it with you. That's all for now Warlocks, Witches, and Badass Bitches.

Chapters 1-18 of One of Us are presently posted on Archive of Our Own.

12 notes · View notes